Chapter 13 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well. I have decided to pick up a second Quick Transmigration novel. This time, the gong is the MC and I hope you appreciate this novel as much as I do.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters, or puchase advanced chapters on Gumroad. (40% discount code: DILWY)

Clues

 

 

When you give something your all, it will always yield something in return.

 

When the midterm results were released, their homeroom teacher looked noticeably more satisfied—because the top ten students in the class had once again broken into the school's overall top 100.

 

Holding the eleventh spot in class was none other than Zong Que—ranked 116th in the entire grade.

 

Compared to Lin Heng, who had reclaimed his position as the school's top scorer, Zong Que's rapid improvement had genuinely taken everyone by surprise.

 

As always, seating was rearranged after exams. The seats near Lin Heng were quickly claimed, but the one beside him was deliberately left open—for Zong Que.

 

Every post-exam cycle came with one-on-one talks with the teacher. Those who had progressed significantly—or fallen behind drastically—were always called in for a chat.

 

"This time's results are quite good, especially your biology score," the homeroom teacher said during a quiet self-study period, calling Zong Que out for a private chat. "I've seen the effort you've been putting in lately. Keep it up."

 

"Okay," Zong Que replied.

 

"Staying the course is only the baseline," the teacher said, looking up at the boy in front of him. "You didn't make it into the top hundred this time. How about setting that as your goal for the finals?"

 

In high school, the curriculum moved fast, and rankings could shift dramatically. Once students selected their courses, some faltered and plummeted hundreds of spots, while others climbed to the top through relentless effort.

 

Most who made it into this school had talent. What they lacked was often just that small extra push of hard work.

 

Grades didn't define a person's worth, but getting into a good university would open many more paths in life.

 

Zong Que began thinking about his next goal. If he added competition prep into the mix, he'd need to double the pace of his original plan. "Alright."

 

"But don't pressure yourself too much," the teacher added. "The curriculum's constantly advancing. Falling behind a little now and then is perfectly normal. Since you're sitting next to Lin Heng, learn well from him."

 

"Mm," Zong Que responded.

 

"Alright, off you go," the teacher said.

 

When Zong Que returned to the classroom, Lin Heng's pen stilled. As the other boy sat down, he leaned in and asked quietly, "What'd the teacher say?"

 

"Said I should get into the top hundred next time," Zong Que said, pulling out his workbook.

 

"Mm? I think you can aim higher." Lin Heng tapped his pen lightly over a section of Zong Que's workbook. "You've basically solidified your fundamentals. Starting fresh with new material means you're on equal footing with everyone else. What do you think about setting your sights on the top fifty?"

 

Had it been anyone else, Lin Heng wouldn't have set the bar so high. But Zong Que was different. Once he mastered a type of problem, no matter how it was twisted or disguised later, he never tripped over it again.

 

What set him apart from others wasn't that he couldn't solve the problems—it was simply that he hadn't encountered them yet.

 

"Sure," Zong Que said.

 

"Then during first evening self-study, finish these problems," Lin Heng said, marking a section.

 

"Alright," Zong Que agreed.

 

He rarely ever refused Lin Heng's requests.

 

As Lin Heng returned to his own work, his gaze quietly shifted to the person beside him. The sound of pen against paper echoed softly—a steady, calming rhythm. The once sharp, cold eyes were now filled only with focus and calm. Lin Heng couldn't help but wonder why he used to feel so wary, even afraid, of this person. He was clearly someone who made others feel at ease.

 

…

 

The attention stirred by the monthly exams didn't stop with Zong Que. Lin Heng had reclaimed first place, and even Liao Yan—who had spent most of his time recently in the hospital—managed to place third in the grade. Though his overall score lagged slightly, the result was enough to spark speculation.

 

"Can you believe he got third place just from self-study? If he were attending school properly, wouldn't first place be a given?"

 

"I honestly thought he'd slip. Didn't expect this."

 

"Genius is genius, huh? Doesn't even have to try and still ranks at the top."

 

"Don't make it sound like Lin Heng's just lucky. He's been helping Zong Que, you know. Probably spends a ton of time tutoring him."

 

"Yeah, if it weren't for Lin Heng, Zong Que would still be dead last…" The tone of the speaker was tinged with something complicated.

 

Hearing the voices approaching, Liao Yan ducked behind a wall and only emerged when they had passed.

 

…

 

Lin Heng's routines didn't change in the slightest despite the whispers and side glances.

 

Same weekend, same bus stop, same hospital room number. Just as he was about to knock, he heard the sound of something shattering inside—a teapot's inner vessel, maybe—and water splashing.

 

"What's this, huh? These days the debtor gets to play the lord? You've been hospitalized over a month, and you still can't cough up the money?" A deep male voice thundered amid the crash. "You splashed water all over me!"

 

"My hospital stay was funded by someone kind-hearted. If I had the money, I wouldn't delay paying you back." Liao Yan's mother, usually soft-spoken, now spoke with a cold edge. "I have a son. I wouldn't deliberately drag out a debt and ruin our peace. We truly have no choice."

 

"Can't work? Look, we're not the kind to hound people to death," another voice, sharper and slicker, chimed in. "You used donations for the hospital stay. Fine. But the compensation money from the factory? That can be used to pay the debt, right? I'm telling you this for your own good—if interest keeps piling up, it's only going to hurt you in the end."

 

"The compensation hasn't come through yet," Liao Yan's mother said, fatigue creeping into her voice.

 

"What kind of person collects debts right from someone's hospital bed?" A stranger's female voice chimed in from within the room.

 

"Shut your damn mouth! This ain't your business. She owes us high-interest money!" the deep-voiced man snapped, full of menace.

 

The woman's voice fell silent after that.

 

Lin Heng slowly lowered the hand that was about to knock and turned away. He walked quietly to the far end of the corridor, stopped at the reception desk, and said, "Hi, there's a commotion in Room 916. A few men are there collecting debts. Can you send security to handle it?"

 

Calling the police might be tricky with matters like debt collection, but hospital security could act faster and more decisively.

 

The nurse at the front desk was visibly startled before quickly dialing the phone.

 

A few security guards soon knocked on the room's door. Raised voices followed, and after a few tense minutes, several men exited the room.

 

They looked unremarkable, but they were tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in plain short sleeves and slacks. They came out with a threatening air and a certain hardened edge in their eyes, prompting passersby to give them a wide berth.

 

Once the guards left, Lin Heng exhaled a quiet breath and walked toward the room, only to see chaos within—broken items, water pooled on the floor—and Liao Yan silently, stiffly cleaning up the mess.

 

His mother was still apologizing to the other patients: "I'm so sorry… I've caused you all trouble…"

 

Lin Heng's fingers tightened slightly around the strap of his backpack. He turned and walked away on light steps. It would be better to come again tomorrow.

 

"Damn it! The kid was still inside, and someone just had to call security? I swear, if I find out who it was, I'll make them pay!" the tall man at the head of the group growled.

 

"Come on, Hai-ge, it's not a big deal. The main thing is getting the money. Orders from above already came down." The man trailing behind handed him a cigarette. "Here, have a smoke. Cool off."

 

Zong Que was waiting for the elevator when he caught the tail end of their conversation.

 

The group came storming out, and Zong Que calmly stepped aside, quietly observing them as they left.

 

"Cool off, my ass. Have someone keep an eye on them. No tricks. I swear, if they pull anything, they're done." The man lit his cigarette, blatantly ignoring the security guard's warning that smoking wasn't allowed inside the hospital.

 

Zong Que stepped into the elevator. But once he arrived, before he could get out, he spotted a familiar figure waiting outside—a boy standing still by the elevator entrance.

 

The boy looked as pristine as ever, untainted by the world, though surprise flickered across his features. "Why did you come up?"

 

"You were taking too long," Zong Que said simply. "Get in."

 

In the original timeline, Lin Heng's kidnapping happened during summer break. But that was just a record. Real life always had room for the unexpected.

 

"This elevator's going up," Lin Heng commented, yet still stepped inside.

 

"It's crowded now. If you get off now, you might not get a spot on the next one," Zong Que said as he shifted to make room. "Something happen?"

 

"Not really," Lin Heng replied with a smile. "I just talked with Liao Yan's mom a little longer. She asked how he's doing at school, so I stayed."

 

His smile looked just like always, but his eyes held a heaviness, a weight that couldn't be hidden.

 

Zong Que knew he was lying—either about himself or about Liao Yan—and that it was something he couldn't say out loud.

 

The shame in Liao Yan's household came down to two things: money, and the high-interest loan sharks breathing down their necks.

 

His father had disappeared, leaving his debt behind. And for some, that was enough to see both mother and son as tainted by it.

 

"What do you want for lunch?" Zong Que changed the subject.

 

Lin Heng felt a little breath of relief. He rarely lied—but this truly wasn't something he could talk about. It was Liao Yan's private matter, and there was no way he'd want anyone else to know.

 

"Let me think. We eat rice and noodles all the time… how about fried chicken today?"

 

"Alright." Zong Que nodded, noting the flicker of forced cheer in his eyes.

 

A bucket of fried chicken, bags of fries, oversized sodas, and sundaes* nearly buried the table.

 

[T/N: A sundae is an ice cream frozen dessert of American origin that typically consists of one or more scoops of ice cream topped with a sweet sauce or syrup and other toppings such as sprinkles, whipped cream, marshmallows, chocolate chips, M&M's, peanuts, cookies, chocolate brownies, maraschino cherries, or other fruits. ]

 

"Think we can finish all this?" Zong Que glanced at the mountain of food, skeptical of their combined appetite.

 

"If we can't, you just take it home," Lin Heng said, sipping icy cola through a straw and letting out a relaxed sigh.

 

"You're not taking any?"

 

"I'm going home today. My mom labels all this stuff 'junk food'," Lin Heng said, popping a chicken nugget into his mouth. "If I bring any back, I'll get lectured."

 

"What about skewers?" Zong Que asked again.

 

"Those too. So I sneak out and eat them." Lin Heng grinned. "Never once got caught."

 

There was a touch of smugness in his expression.

 

Even the most obedient of teenagers harbors a streak of rebellion. And when they manage to indulge it, they always feel a little thrill of victory.

 

"I can eat this anytime," Zong Que said matter-of-factly.

 

Lin Heng paused mid-bite into a burger, then after a moment of silence, said, "Don't show off in front of me."

 

That kind of talk could really make someone jealous enough to want to throw hands—and if he did, he'd definitely lose. So it'd be him who got the short end of the stick.

 

"Show off what?" Zong Que looked genuinely confused.

 

Lin Heng blinked. "What were you trying to say then?"

 

"I can bring you some next time you want it," Zong Que said simply.

 

"Ah… oh…" Lin Heng's mind unexpectedly wandered to the moment Zong Que had come up the elevator to find him. "Did you come looking for me back then because you were worried?"

 

Zong Que: "Mm?"

 

"Nothing." Lin Heng grinned as he bit into his straw again. "This cola's actually pretty good."

 

"Cola from restaurants has ice in it," Zong Que replied, brushing past the question. "They charge three times as much."

 

Lin Heng: "……"

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