Chapter 135: 68.2

Cheng Zhaoci never really enjoyed cheats and the like as writing devices. Take, for example, a feel-good story whose protagonist ends up with a cheat after some coincidences that gives them ample rewards for practically no effort, and then use it to faceslap someone.

Put past-life Cheng Zhaoci in it, and that’d be like him drawing comics to the brink of death every day, when someone he despised for being quite lazy and non-committed to the craft got a cheat – where he only needed to draw a set amount of lines on paper as ‘practise’ to gain some skill in comic drawing. Finally, he uses his amazing comic to faceslap Cheng Zhaoci.

Follow it up with some form of ‘don’t look down on me,’ and Cheng Zhaoci thinks he’d probably be so frustrated he’d puke up blood… and transmigrate or something. Seriously.

What a disgusting plot device.

Actually, no, please don’t send him back to his original world with his newfound cheat. He won’t be able to hold himself back from hitting himself.

Well, he might as well just achieve greatness here in the insectoid world. It’s probably not too hard with his current brain capacity, which is so vast and all-encompassing he is always remembering his most embarrassing moments in his lives both past and present when he’s trying to sleep.

In fact, he isn’t even sure if he actually fell asleep every day or just fainted trying to escape from the embarrassment.

Sadly, this wouldn’t have been a problem if he had wholesome night activities every day and no time to reflect on himself. Too bad Wei Zhuo is still fighting in the distant frontline.

Lu Su sees Cheng Zhaoci sinking into his own thoughts, and clears his throat, “we’re at the school, mister.”

Cheng Zhaoci is interrupted from his second-by-second, crisp recollection of those three wholesome days he spent. He’s slightly embarrassed talking to Lu Su, and tries to avert the gaze, “oh, um, let’s get off?”

“I would be staying on. A teacher will be guiding you from here on out,” replies Lu Su, smiling, but still, he can’t help but call out to him to wait.

Cheng Zhaoci turns around, asking, “is there anything else?”

“Yes. It’s something more personal, but my brother wanted me to tell you, that if you ever needed any help, you could come find us,” Lu Su smiles, adding, “we’re fans of your work too, you know.”

“I see. Thanks,” replies Cheng Zhaoci, in a way more leaning towards a subtle refusal.

After Cheng Zhaoci has left the vehicle, Lu Su sighs and leans back into the chair. His professionalism is gone entirely.

His driver, a shemale, now turns his head around to ask, “yo, tryin’ to hit on the grade S male, huh?”

“Hit on my arse! If I actually did that, I’d be in jail in no time!” Given he’s a half-brother who shared a father with Cheng Zhaoci… Which will probably remain buried as a secret only known to Cheng Zhaoci’s closest friends and some of his fellow high-ranking MPs.

“In jail? For… flirting with a male?” The shemale scratches his head, “it’s not like you are going to fight with his cijun to the death or something.”

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“Shut up and drive!” Lu Su kicks the driver’s seat, “I didn’t know you were this into gossipping!”

Elsewhere, Cheng Zhaoci is guided along by a senior pupil into the school – a grade A male who also seems quite cold and distant like he is. He only answers whenever Cheng Zhaoci speaks up.

Although Cheng Zhaoci’s almost superhuman perception has him conclude this senior is probably just shy. His ears are reddening at the tips, and only getting ever-so-slightly more tinged whenever he speaks. By the end of their walk, though, his ears almost look like they don’t belong on the head.

After that, his tour through the campus was uneventful. It’s not a vast, elegantly decorated landscape with multitudes of activity centres like how Zhou Luoluo describes the schools for young males, or even tight-knit and imposing like the military academy Xiao Ji and He Huaijian are enrolled in.

It’s perhaps functionalist architecture taken to its extreme. A building is a building, without even the slightest bit of personality or decoration. Well, there is something notable, that is the projected slogan hovering above the top of the building, [For the Future Development and Technological Advances of the Insectoid Race]

“Senior, did you not feel incredible about how far this school departs from the norm when you came here?” Cheng Zhaoci can’t help but ask, because his circumstances meant he didn’t go to a male school like these students here did.

The difference between the typical male school and this is so great that Cheng Zhaoci doesn’t think all grade A males were happy to come here.

“I didn’t. This place was right for me,” answers the senior, with chest puffed and standing straight. Cheng Zhaoci thinks he really only needs a pair of glasses to accentuate that ‘ace student’ look. It’s a shame the insectoids do not suffer from nearsightedness, and ‘glasses’ would only be a useless piece of fashion.

The senior’s eyes almost look like they’re glowing when looking at the projected slogan, “this is where I belong; that said, there are some who find it hard to adapt to. Last year, one of the freshmen cried a few times because this was very different, and the teachers were not as lenient.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he adds, believing Cheng Zhaoci, a grade S male, would have no trouble adapting at all. Like, he’s one-in-a-million! “I believe you won’t cry at all.”

Cheng ‘Sufferer of Teacher-PTSD’ Zhaoci “…”

“Uh… Right,” he’s feeling a little awkward. He’s always been a trouble student, so it does feel strange to be treated as a good student, or even an ace. He’s also a little shaken hearing the teachers aren’t lenient.

“Kuhum, you’re… married, aren’t you?” The senior finally asks something for once, and Cheng Zhaoci answers after the little surprise, nodding, “yes, my cijun is the grade S shemale, Group Captain Wei,” well, he’s been suspended until the investigation clears up, but anyway.

The senior is now looking at the sky at an angle, “I know. I’ve seen his appearance, and I’ve also read your comics,” which is unusual for busy students like them who haven’t much time to browse the Internet. Unfortunately, Cheng Zhaoci being a grade S male meant his creative works have become study materials.

“It’s nice to have a cijun,” the senior sighs before asking, “do you know any more eligible shemales or demis?”

Cheng Zhaoci “…”

What?! Are these really the rare males that all shemales and demis dream of being able to marry? You grade As have managed to stay single through no small part on your own incompetence, but now you’re having to ask for introductions with the overflowing supply of shemales and demis to get married?!

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