The Slacker Academic Always Gets Caught (SLACKER)
As evening fell, the cicadas that had been chirping all day finally quieted down, and the dismissal bell of No. 1 High School buzzed loudly.
Chi Ning jolted awake, blinking in confusion at the blackboard covered in high school math formulas, his mind blank.
What was going on?
Hadn’t he already died from overwork?
Even if the resuscitation had been successful, he shouldn’t have woken up in a high school classroom, right?
...........
Ten minutes earlier…
Chi Ning was still at the National Science and Technology Progress Awards ceremony—the highest honor a private pharmaceutical researcher could receive. He had just accepted the crystal trophy and hadn’t even begun his acceptance speech when his body, exhausted from three sleepless nights, finally gave out, he collapsed without warning.
Before his consciousness completely faded, Chi Ning couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.
In this lifetime, he had spent all his time on research and the pharmaceutical company he inherited. No social life, no understanding of love, so busy he hadn’t even answered his elder brother’s last phone call.
If he had picked up, if he had persuaded him more, maybe his brother wouldn’t have died in that street race with friends, and the weight of the family business wouldn’t have fallen entirely on his shoulders.
If only he could start over…
If given another chance, he’d cherish family, friendships, and love, toss the inheritance to someone else, and spend his days eating, drinking, and having fun—staying fit and avoiding sudden death.
Let someone else slave away for success. To hell with all that!
And then, he actually did get a second chance.
Stay calm…
Never mind. This was too absurd. Staying calm was impossible.
The dizziness was one thing, but there was also a man’s voice droning in his ear, “Chi Ning, why aren’t you going to dinner after school? Are you feeling unwell? Evening self-study runs until 10:30—how are you going to last without eating?”
Chi Ning turned toward the voice and saw a gleaming bald head under the fluorescent lights.
It was Wang Quan, his high school physics teacher and homeroom advisor.
A middle-aged man with a jovial appearance, a humorous teaching style, and a reputation as one of the best educators and networkers in the province.
Perfect in every way—except for being a bit long-winded.
When Chi Ning didn’t respond, Wang Quan continued, “If you’re not feeling well, go to the infirmary. Don’t push yourself. The list for the National High School Biology Competition will be announced tonight—you’re definitely going to be a provincial first-prize winner. After that, you’ll need to join the training camp to prepare for the national competition. Don’t let your health get in the way.”
At those words, Chi Ning jolted in alarm and a bold warning flash in his mind.
Absolutely not!
In his past life, he had been selected for the national training team after winning first prize in the CPhO (Chinese Physics Olympiad).
Later, he went on to compete internationally, earning a gold medal at the IPhO (International Physics Olympiad).
The media in Yangcheng could write an article about the contents of a rich family’s trash bin, so when news of his CPhO and IPhO victories broke, the stock of the Chi family’s Chongning Biotech Co. skyrocketed.
The board of directors—a pack of cunning hyenas—acted like they’d struck gold. They stopped selling their shares and instead banded together to pressure his father into naming him the heir.
What kind of competition was this?
It was the beginning of tragedy, the starting point of his eventual sudden death!
Without hesitation, Chi Ning shook his head. “Teacher, I’m not going.”
Wang Quan sighed. “Fine, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, just rest at your desk for a bit. Ah… you’re just too hardworking. You don’t know how to balance work and rest.”
Chi Ning cleared his throat and rubbed the tip of his nose. “Don’t worry, starting today, I’ll be all about balancing work and rest.”
The question was whether Wang Quan could handle it.
After a pause, his gaze shifted awkwardly. “Teacher, you misunderstood. What I don’t want to join is the physics competition.”
Wang Quan: ?
…What?
Securing a spot in the national high school competition was no easy feat. Only the elite from each province could qualify, and most who made it to the national level had already secured their golden ticket to prestigious universities.
Chi Ning was among the best of the best, the kind of talent many envied.
But what did this kid just say?
He wasn’t going?
"Balancing work and rest" meant taking a short break, not outright quitting!
Wang Quan was utterly baffled. He softened his voice, adopting the tone one might use to soothe a kindergarten child, and said, "Why don’t you rest for a bit? We can talk about the details after evening self-study, alright?"
Chi Ning: "...Fine."
It was clearly just a stalling tactic, but the middle-aged man’s sudden shift to a high-pitched voice was jarring enough to make his already foggy head spin even more.
Once Teacher Wang left, Chi Ning forced himself to perk up.
In his past life, skipping meals had wrecked his stomach. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.
There were less than ten minutes left before evening self-study started, and his stomach was growling painfully. If he didn’t make a run for it now, when would he?
Chi Ning gathered the towering stack of competition papers and reference books on his desk, tied them together with a plastic string, and casually tossed them into the pile of scrap paper in the corner of the classroom.
Thud!
The five or six pounds of paper landed with a dull thud.
The moment the papers hit the pile, the weight pressing down on him shattered instantly. He felt light as a feather, so free he could’ve laughed out loud three times.
This was amazing!
The feeling of not having to study or slave away like a corporate drone was absolutely exhilarating!
After all, with the knowledge he’d crammed in his past life and the patents stored in his head, he could live just fine.
Woo-hoo! No more chugging coffee until he puked just to pull all-nighters!
Grinning, Chi Ning stuffed his belongings haphazardly into his backpack and slipped out of the school gates, blending in with the regular students who were already done for the day.
No. 1 High School was located in the city center of Yangcheng, right next to a bustling night market street and just a ten-minute walk away.
The place was lively, filled with mobile vendors setting up stalls and calling out to customers. Most sold specialty snacks, while a few had grouped together to form night stalls, with plastic tables scattered along the roadside. From a distance, the rich aroma of fried noodles and grilled meat wafted through the air.
Chi Ning picked a crowded stall and ordered a plate of dry-fried beef hor fun and fried shrimp tails.
Before the food could arrive, his phone rang from his pocket.
Chi Ning pulled it out and answered, "Hello?"
Wang Quan let out a long sigh of relief. "Where have you been? It’s one thing that you’re not in the classroom, but why did you throw away your notes and test papers? If the vice monitor in charge of collecting trash hadn’t taken a look, all that stuff would’ve been sold as scrap!"
"I’m out eating."
In his past life, Chi Ning hadn’t bothered much with social niceties—he was straightforward by nature. His family’s business had been forced upon him, and he never learned the art of financial maneuvering, spending his entire life being exploited by the capitalists on the board of directors. To put it nicely, he was an heir, but in reality, he was no different from an ordinary worker.
He wasn’t one to lie, so he simply stated the truth. "Since I’m not joining the competition, those notes are useless to me now. Might as well sell them to add to the class fund and get some new books for the reading corner."
Wang Quan’s scalp prickled. He hadn’t expected a top student to be so stubborn and hard to manage. Chi Ning’s notes were incredibly valuable—selling them to those in need could easily fetch ten or twenty thousand. Yet this kid was treating them like scrap to be sold by weight?
"Don’t make any hasty decisions. The list just came out—you’re the provincial first-place winner, over a dozen points ahead of second place. Tonight, I—"
"Dry-fried beef hor fun and fried shrimp tails, here you go!" The stall owner’s loud call interrupted Wang Quan. "All dishes served. Enjoy your meal."
Chi Ning stared at the delicious-looking dinner in front of him, his appetite overriding all other thoughts.
He spoke faster, his logic clear. "Teacher, I know you’re concerned about me, but I’m not skipping the competition because of stress. I just think I’ve been pushing myself too hard lately and want to focus on my health. By the way, the beef hor fun here looks really good—want me to bring you a plate?"
Wang Quan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. "...No need."
If you called Chi Ning rebellious, he still thought to bring his teacher food. But if you called him considerate… this kid had just decided to drop out of the competition without a second thought.
Chi Ning gave a noncommittal hum, hung up, and pulled a pair of disposable chopsticks from a bamboo holder on the side. He tore off the plastic wrapper in one swift motion and dug into the noodles.
The dry-fried beef hor fun didn’t look spicy, but the moment it hit his tongue, the fragrance of chili oil overwhelmed his senses. A few chews in, and he was already sweating profusely.
It was so delicious he couldn’t bear to waste a bite. With tears streaming down his face, he finished the last mouthful.
The stall owner found it amusing. "If you can’t handle spice, you should’ve told me. I could’ve gone easier on the heat."
Chi Ning pulled out two crisp 20-yuan bills and handed them over. "Next time, I’ll remember to say something."
The owner grinned as he accepted the money and pointed the tearful student in the right direction. "Near the west gate of the night market, there’s a stall selling iced bayberry juice. The guy running it is a high schooler—he’s got a temper, but his stuff is good. If the spice is too much for you, go buy a couple of cups."
"Got it." Chi Ning slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried toward the west gate. But when he arrived, there was no sign of any high schooler selling bayberry juice.
The area was eerily quiet, with plastic takeout containers splattered with food grease scattered on the ground. Several pitch-black alleyways branched off from the main road like thin legs growing from a spider's body—just the sight of them was enough to make one's hair stand on end.
A few migrant workers squatted by the curb, holding boxed meals. Covered in mud, only their eyes shone bright as they shoveled rice while staring fixedly at Chi Ning.
He grew wary and took a slight step back.
One of the workers stood up, speaking in accented Mandarin to warn him, "Kid, just stick to the front area if you're looking around. The west gate connects to the small market across the way—it's pretty rough. Better not go there."
"I heard someone here sells bayberry juice," Chi Ning said.
The workers exchanged glances. The one who had spoken seemed about to say more but was tugged back by his companion. In the end, he just pointed toward the brightly lit eastern area, urging Chi Ning to leave quickly, before disappearing with his coworkers into a nearby unfinished building.
Chi Ning exhaled in relief.
Only then did he realize that Yangcheng in the 1990s was nothing like the civilized city it would become after later reforms and crackdowns on vice.
Back then, over twenty years ago, Yangcheng hadn't yet transformed into the foreign trade hub it would be. It was in the throes of rapid development.
More opportunities meant more people dabbling in shady dealings and gray-market trades. Nights out weren't as safe as they would be in the future.
He immediately abandoned his plan to buy a cold drink and was about to leave when an icy hand suddenly clamped around his ankle.
Chi Ning nearly jumped out of his skin. Forcing himself to stay calm, he turned and met a pair of startlingly bright eyes in the darkness.
The figure leaned against the alley wall, dressed in a pitch-black windbreaker with the collar pulled up to hide his chin. A sharp gash on his forehead had left his face streaked with blood.
The grip on his ankle felt sticky and cold—probably soaked with the stranger's blood.
Looking around, Chi Ning noticed an overturned foam box beside the young man. Several plastic bottles inside had broken, spilling dark purple bayberry juice across the ground.
Following the trail of juice, his gaze landed on the torn pants and the gruesome gash on the stranger's thigh, flesh split open.
The wound was horrifying. Without immediate stitches to stop the bleeding, this person might bleed out right here.
Chi Ning pulled out his phone. He'd barely pressed 120 when the grip on his ankle tightened.
Keeping his composure, he made the call, explained the situation, then crouched down. Swiftly, he untied the nylon strap from his backpack and used it to bind the stranger's upper thigh. Patting the young man's cheek, he said, "Hang in there. The ambulance is coming—don't fall asleep."
Qin Heng gasped for breath. In all his life, he'd never been slapped before. The person before him looked like he was on the verge of tears from the blood—how could he still appear so composed?
Chi Ning felt an inexplicable itch at the corner of his eye. Using the clean inner sleeve of his jacket, he wiped away the stinging tears and casually asked, "What's your name?"
"Qin..." The young man's voice was barely a whisper.
Chi Ning didn't catch it clearly. He brushed aside the other's hair to check for any skull depressions or bleeding.
Nothing—just a perfectly shaped head that would make an excellent specimen for a cadaver teacher someday.
After the inspection, he found himself staring blankly at the wound on the stranger's temple.
In his previous life, CEO Qin, who pursued him for so long also had a scar on his temple. That man claimed it was from accidentally injuring himself while working part-time at a construction site during his youth. Though Chi Ning didn’t believe the story, Qin Heng refused to say another word about it.
Chi Ning’s expression darkened at the thought.
Back then, he’d been too busy with work to date, not wanting to waste anyone’s time. He’d rejected Qin Heng many times, never giving him a clear answer even until death.
If only they could meet earlier in this life—at least they could become friends sooner.
What had Qin Heng been like in his youth? People always said he’d changed dramatically. Could he have been ugly as a child?
Chi Ning chuckled at his own thoughts.
The wail of an ambulance grew louder, but the night market crowd prevented the vehicle from entering. Several paramedics rushed over with a stretcher.
Shifting his numb legs, Chi Ning suddenly realized his foot was still in someone’s grip.
"Let go."
Only after his ankle was released did he notice the red string around it had gotten dirty. The Golden needle hoop threaded onto it for warding off evil now dangled against his protruding ankle bone. The tight grip had left faint red marks from the hoop on his skin.
Unwilling to argue with an injured man or get involved, Chi Ning told the paramedics, "I don’t know him—just helped make a call. I’m leaving now."
Eager to wash his feet, he hurried back to the street and hailed a taxi. No sooner had he gotten in than his phone rang again—this time displaying the word "Dad."
"Hello?" Chi Ning answered.
If he wanted to slack off, getting past his parents was unavoidable.
The Chi family owned a pharmaceutical company that had achieved considerable success, making them one of Yangcheng’s prominent families whose every move attracted media attention.
With an elder brother who idled his days away, tabloids had been fueling rumors about the Chi family having no worthy successor, causing Chongning Biotechnology Company’s stocks to plummet.
In this era of limited entertainment options, gossip papers sold extremely well. The media was practically salivating for more Chi family scandals to boost profits.
"Where are you?" Chi Baichuan’s steady voice came through the receiver.
Chi Ning’s eyes inexplicably stung. In his past life, after his brother’s accidental death, his parents had succumbed to depression. Both had poor health and passed away early—he hadn’t heard his father’s voice in so long.
"At the night market," Chi Ning replied softly.
"Night market? Why there? Did you go for dinner? What took so long?"
"Uh... beef chow fun and fried shrimp tails." Chi Ning awkwardly changed the subject. "Dad, what did you need?"
Chi Baichuan laughed gruffly. "Still asking? Your homeroom teacher called the house. Get home now."
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