Xiao Chong paid, walked through various secretly glancing eyes, and led Lin Wanwan to where he put his backpack and notebook.
"Ah, turns out he's just another shallow looker for beauty," someone snidely remarked.
"This is a true beauty indeed," someone else sighed.
Lin Wanwan sat across from Xiao Chong, casually picked up a notebook with problems written on it from his table, glanced at it, and quickly put it down with a headache.
During her freshman year, the four integrals in mathematics drained quite a few of her brain cells. Now that she finally doesn't have to face them, just an extra glance feels exhausting.
Lin Wanwan once saw a saying in her high school group that every university has a tree called calculus, with many people hanging on it.
She was glad she hadn't failed; if she had to retake the course due to failing, she'd be so ashamed she'd practically hang herself on a branch.
She had never failed a class in her life.
