They Dumped Me—Now They’re Reincarnated and Obsessed? - Chapter 23
Xie Tingxue’s stomach began to cramp uncomfortably.
She didn’t hate school, but every time a new term started, she’d feel anxious—so anxious her stomach would hurt and food would lose all taste.
She managed to force down two fried eggs and drank a small bowl of porridge. Holding her stomach, she dragged her heavy feet into the classroom.
Monday morning self-study clearly wasn’t as focused as usual. Everyone looked a little off—except for Yan Ze.
He was energetic, wearing a simple black long-sleeve shirt. It wasn’t anything special, but on him, it looked different. Just one glance, and Xie Tingxue couldn’t forget the image.
Strangely, the faces of all the other classmates blurred in her vision, but his remained vivid, striking, and sharp.
Her stomach cramped even worse. The nausea made her panic.
Still uneasy. Her heart pounded wildly. For some reason, Yan Ze’s face both brightened her mood and deeply irritated her.
Annoying.
Xie Tingxue raised her book, silently scolding herself for being mean.
What did he even do wrong?
Sure, she disliked how he loved to play, didn’t take studying seriously, and wasn’t reliable. But deep down, she admired his kind of freedom—unrestrained, unbothered by the mold of being the “perfect student,” like blue skies and drifting clouds, living as he pleased.
She felt a wave of envy.
“Envy…” she murmured automatically. “I guess that’s like jealousy, too… envy, or be jealous of…”
She jotted both expressions into her notebook.
Just then, Mei Jian arrived with two glaring dark circles under his eyes. He sat down, and five seconds later—thunk—he dropped his head onto the desk and fell asleep.
Xie Tingxue: “!!!”
No way?! Mei Jian?
Why was he sleeping during morning study?
Good students didn’t sleep during study hours. That was a rule in Xie Tingxue’s model-student world.
She nudged him with her elbow. Mei Jian raised one finger and shook it weakly. After a long pause, he muttered, “I’m tired. Let me sleep.”
Xie Tingxue nervously kept watch for him.
The Chinese teacher walked in to do a random recitation check. When she spotted Mei Jian sleeping, her eyes lit up as if she’d discovered a new continent. Smiling like a predator, she marched over and yanked him up. “Recite Li Sao.”
Mei Jian: “…”
Sure, the humanities relied on accumulation and breadth of knowledge—but they also tested memory. His knowledge in politics, history, and geography had long reached a qualitative level, but reciting classical texts? That was another story. It had been years since he memorized them; he could only remember fragments now.
He tried sneaking a glance at the textbook to bluff his way through.
The Chinese teacher chuckled. “Mei Jian, you’ll be standing for today’s class.”
Mei Jian felt deeply humiliated.
He had never been punished like this before. And now, here he was—a man in his twenties—getting a classroom penalty for the first time.
The teacher clearly liked to stir things up. Smiling, she moved on to Yan Ze.
Yan Ze recited halfway, then said, “If you give me twenty more minutes, I could recite the whole thing.”
She smiled. “You’re standing too.”
Yan Ze asked, “How long do I have to stand?”
She said, “Mei Jian didn’t recite a single word—he stands for the full class. You recited half—so, half the class.”
Yan Ze, upbeat: “Fair enough.”
Xie Tingxue was stunned. She couldn’t believe Mei Jian hadn’t memorized even one line over the entire weekend! Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
Mei Jian whispered, “Actually, I can recite up to ‘zi yu yue ling jun’…”
Xie Tingxue was even more shocked. “That’s only five lines!”
After the morning session, Yan Ze swaggered over. “Professor Mei—not even one line?”
Mei Jian replied, “Everyone forgets things sometimes.”
Yan Ze grinned, “Want me to recite it for you?”
Mei Jian: “Shut it. Get lost.”
Yan Ze shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled away, reciting the poem as he went.
Mei Jian watched him for a while, then asked, “Want to hear the truth?”
Yan Ze stopped, flashed Xie Tingxue a smile, then looked back at Mei Jian. “Say it.”
Students nearby perked up their ears.
Mei Jian said, “Your brain… it’d be a waste not to study.”
Yan Ze was surprised. He expected sarcasm but got advice instead.
He paused, then replied seriously, “You can’t bear to see me waste it?”
Mei Jian answered, “You have to look at things in context. Any teacher would feel it’s a shame to watch a talented kid waste his youth and potential.”
The students all looked at Yan Ze.
His grin grew wider. “Mei Jian, my next target is your spot.”
He raised a finger and declared, “I’m going to replace you—your ranking, your position—both your past and present ones! I’m taking them all!”
Xie Tingxue choked on her water and coughed violently.
Yan Ze’s eyes sparkled. He smiled brightly. “Total domination!”
Mei Jian raised his chin slightly, scoffing with confidence. “As if I’m scared.”
He knew what Yan Ze meant. The “position” he wanted to take wasn’t just Mei Jian’s desk, or even his academic standing. It was also the place Mei Jian had once held—as Xie Tingxue’s first love.
Mei Jian said coldly, “Try, then. Let’s see if you can shake any of it—grades, position, or anything else.”
________________________________________
During the long class break, Feng Fei switched classes and eagerly pushed his desk next to Yan Ze’s. Just as he was about to chat, he was horrified to find—Yan Ze was solving math problems.
“Damn… Brother Ze, you actually understand this stuff?” Feng Fei saw his speed and was stunned.
Yan Ze clicked his tongue and ignored him. Ten minutes later, he finished the exercises and flipped to the answer key.
“…So that’s it,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I was going in the wrong direction… Huh, kind of philosophical. Should I just use the formula?”
Feng Fei awkwardly asked to borrow a pen.
Yan Ze said, “I only brought one. What kind of student doesn’t bring a pen?”
Feng Fei: “…”
Yan Ze: “Go borrow one yourself.”
Feng Fei looked around. Ahead—a girl pretending not to hear. To his left—Jin Zhenyu glaring like a hawk. To his right—the back door.
Yan Ze suggested, “Maybe just read your book. Next period is geography.”
Feng Fei opened a liberal arts textbook for the first time. Five minutes later, he was asleep on his desk.
Yan Ze poked him awake. “No sleeping!”
Feng Fei groaned, “I don’t understand any of it!”
“What’s not to understand?” Yan Ze said, frustrated. “It’s about the Earth’s atmosphere and oceans. You know ocean currents, right?”
Feng Fei shook his head.
Yan Ze turned his chair around, holding his pen. “Let me explain it to you.”
Feng Fei panicked. “Bro—bro! You should just keep doing your own stuff…”
Yan Ze: “I already finished.”
Feng Fei was shocked. “No way—you didn’t just guess?”
Yan Ze: “It’s easy. This is the beginning of the semester. I think math is actually the easiest subject—because you don’t have to think.”
Feng Fei’s eyebrows knit together. “Huh?”
“There’s a pattern. It’s not chaotic. You get me?” Yan Ze was excited. “Politics, history, geography—memorizing isn’t always enough. There are gaps, inconsistencies. But math? It’s logical. Once you find the pattern, the whole thing unravels smoothly.”
Feng Fei muttered under his breath like a cult member, “…Bro… Are you a prodigy or something?”
Yan Ze lowered his voice and said, “I’ll be honest with you. I usually pick things up quickly at the beginning, but after that… not so much.”
Just then, Xie Tingxue came over to collect the homework.
Spotting Feng Fei, she smiled at him. “You really did transfer to our class?”
Feng Fei crossed his legs casually and said, “Of course! We’re classmates now, so I hope you’ll take good care of me.”
Yan Ze knocked his leg down and said, “Sitting like that will give you a hunchback and throw off your posture. From behind, it’ll just look creepy. Sit properly.”
Feng Fei immediately uncrossed his legs.
Yan Ze handed his math notebook to Xie Tingxue, smiling gently. “Just finished.”
Xie Tingxue glanced at his work and gasped. “You did the final big problem too?”
“I just gave it a shot,” Yan Ze replied.
“Wow…” she murmured.
No matter what, his free-flowing, bold handwriting looked impressively confident and stylish.
During the third and fourth periods, Yan Ze had clearly become addicted to doing homework. Every time Xie Tingxue came around to collect it, he always handed in a fully completed set—on time.
That afternoon, the graded assignments were returned.
Math came first.
Mr. Cai, likely touched by the fact that Yan Ze even did the homework, wrote a big “Good” at the top of the page. But a closer look showed that half the answers were wrong. He earned two points on the big problem—probably just for the effort of showing his work.
Mr. Cai’s comment: “The spirit is commendable, but don’t guess randomly. Ask if you don’t understand.”
Yan Ze: “……”
Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day. He hadn’t expected to master everything overnight either.
Next came geography.
After passing out the test papers, Xie Tingxue looked a bit apologetic and whispered, “Yan Ze, you should review the Grade 10 geography curriculum… It’s all connected. If you don’t understand the basics, you won’t be able to solve the current problems.”
Yan Ze took the paper in silence, resting his chin on his hand.
Still a 50% error rate. But the geography teacher had also written a large “Excellent” at the top for encouragement.
Then came history: about a third of it was wrong. Mr. Hao’s comment read: “Come to my office during break. Pay attention to your study methods!”
Yan Ze stood up.
But Xie Tingxue made him sit back down and handed him another paper. “This is today’s English test.”
Yan Ze blinked. “Didn’t I already submit the English assignment?”
“This one’s just for the five of us,” Xie Tingxue explained. “The English teacher wants it turned in after the second evening self-study session.”
“The whole test paper?” Yan Ze was about to pass out.
“And the essay,” she added solemnly.
Yan Ze: “…So this is the daily workload?”
He finally remembered why he had stopped studying before—too much homework, piled high like a mountain, and he didn’t understand a word of it. It was exhausting.
“Oh, and here’s your politics homework,” Xie Tingxue said with a smile, handing over the marked-up handout. “Today’s best-looking one!”
The politics assignment had all multiple-choice questions. Yan Ze had guessed on the ones he was unsure of and marked them with colored pens. He only got one wrong.
Taking the colorful handout, he finally smiled—and his eyes were dazzlingly beautiful.
“Didn’t expect it… but I guess I do have a sense of political awareness,” he joked.
Maybe it was because he’d grown up a bit—he actually understood and resonated with the concepts now.
Xie Tingxue stacked the Chinese homework neatly on Feng Fei’s desk, hugged the pile, and walked out of the classroom.
Yan Ze seized the chance to follow her to the admin building. “Let me carry those.”
She refused.
“It’s cold,” Yan Ze said. “Your hands will freeze.”
Xie Tingxue smiled. “Yan Ze, what kind of wind blows in Haishi?”
“The gentle southeast breeze,” he replied instantly.
She chuckled. “No, it smells like seafood…”
Yan Ze burst into laughter and took the homework from her. “Do you still have your first-year textbooks?”
“Of course,” she said. “What about you?”
“I threw them all out,” Yan Ze admitted. “…Can I borrow yours?”
“Sure. I’ll even lend you my notes. Just remember to return them before senior year—we need them for the first round of reviews.”
“I will,” Yan Ze promised. “I really need to catch up. Xie Tingxue, can you come to my place every weekend to tutor me?”
She fell silent.
He softly added, “Sorry.”
Xie Tingxue looked conflicted. “I wanted to study together, but you never took the weekends seriously. I don’t want to go to your house to play cards. And Yan Yaru is there too—if we start chatting, no one’s going to study.”
“She won’t be there,” Yan Ze said firmly. “Just the two of us.”
She still shook her head. “Mei Jian and I already made a weekend study schedule.”
“Xie Tingxue,” Yan Ze said in a softer tone, “please help me… I really want to learn.”
Her heart softened, as he’d expected. After a pause, she said, “Alright… But we’re not going to your house.”
Yan Ze was quiet for a moment—then came up with a new location.
“My grandpa’s place. He doesn’t live there, but the house is still available,” he said. “I guarantee—no one will disturb us!”
Xie Tingxue clearly didn’t buy it. She gave him a skeptical side glance and shook her head.
But Yan Ze’s face was full of hope. “Trust me. It’s nearby—only three bus stops away. The environment is perfect for studying!”
“Even the perfect study environment is useless if you don’t actually study…”
“I will study,” Yan Ze suddenly grinned. “After all, I’ve already issued my challenge.”
Xie Tingxue suddenly put on a gruff voice and asked, “Young man, do you want to create a miracle?”
“I do,” Yan Ze replied smoothly, mimicking her tone. “And I want to invite you to witness it.”
She laughed quietly. “Yan Ze, to be honest… I originally thought you were that kind of student.”
“I am that kind of student,” he said, “but I won’t stay that kind of student.”
“You’re doing great,” she said, eyes forward, not daring to look at him. “Every time I go to the office, I hear teachers praising you…”
“You know the saying ‘instant enlightenment’?” Yan Ze smiled. “To them, I’m the butcher who’s put down his knife and become a Buddha. Hahaha. Xie Tingxue, will you help me? I genuinely want to improve.”
She blinked, then said, “Let’s decide on Friday, okay? I need to talk to Mei Jian first—see if he agrees.”
Yan Ze grumbled, “He won’t. He’s so petty…”
A voice spoke ominously from behind, “I agree. Want to take that back?”
Yan Ze froze and turned around.
Mei Jian stood there like a ghost, face dark and expressionless.
“Well, that’s a surprise.”
“I said I agree,” Mei Jian replied flatly. “As long as you find a quiet, undisturbed place suitable for studying.”
He also needed a place to tutor Xie Tingxue.
“I’ve got one,” Yan Ze said. “As long as you don’t kick me out, I’ll handle the venue.”
“Oh? Where?”
Yan Ze pronounced each word clearly: “Haishi Military District, Family Housing Area No. 602.”