Chapter 238

Chapter 137: Ash’s Past

The homeroom math teacher frowned deeply.

This Ash student had always been the thorn in the class; not in the typical way, like he was some unruly child who did not study and loved to fight. If that were the case, an experienced teacher like him could have handled him with one hundred methods.

Ash was different. He broke the rules of “growing up” in his own unique way, stubborn like an unshaped stone, making him a “misfit.”

A troublemaker whom no normal teaching method could find a flaw or correction in.

Yet, looking through a pair of glasses, Ash stared back at the teacher without fear, with no trace of “reverence” for adults or elders.

“Ash, have you understood what I just explained?”

“Of course, teacher.”

Ash was lying through his teeth, as everyone in half the class saw him sleeping since the class started till now.

“Then please solve the problems on the blackboard.”

The teacher moved aside, handing Ash the chalk.

Ash looked at the blackboard: trinomial equations and bounded function problems, along with light quantum energy operation formulas. These topics were within the middle school curriculum, obviously not something a primary school student would be able to handle.

Only then did Ash realize their current lesson was supposed to be advanced knowledge about middle school content, not full-fledged teaching yet.

The teacher clearly wanted Ash—a conspicuous sleeper in class—to face the mistake himself. To humble him.

After reading the problems, Ash had no doubts or hesitation, only pushing up his glasses.

Commoners’ wisdom.

*Tap tap tap.*

Apart from the sound of chalk on the blackboard, silence filled Classroom Six-Four.

No difficulty there. Just routine questions, Ash didn’t even need to ponder them deeply. He just needed to apply formulas directly. No books required.

Half a minute later, Ash placed the finished problems chalk into a box, nodded at the teacher, and went back to his seat.

No need to wait for the teacher’s judgment.

One, because he trusted himself. Two, he could roughly tell by the teacher crumbling the chalk, that he got it right.

How boring learning could be, truly.

Due to confronting the teacher, Ash was punished by the school to clean the classroom.

He calmly put away the broom, picked up the rubbish bag, and walked toward the garbage pile. Midway, someone grabbed him by the collar.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, cousin! Right here!”

Facing the three people closing in around him, including the one gripping his collar—one of whom he recognized from other classes—he guessed they were likely middle school students, possibly from high grades. The fourth was a classmate, however.

“What happened? I changed myself, became even more restrained. Why can this still affect me?”

“It’s you—didn’t you steal my younger brother’s stuff?”

“No.”

But it was no use—he knew beforehand the others wouldn’t listen to his explanation but would outright accuse him.

A slap sent Ash’s glasses flying, smashing onto the stairs outside.

His left cheek swollen slightly.

Ash narrowed his eyes, not fixating on the one who hit him but the classmate hiding behind the scene, whose smirk suggested clear guilt.

He remembered the mid-term exam incident clearly, where he mistakenly took first place from the other student and explained the answer wrong to him, causing the conflict.

Now, he realized it was jealousy, perhaps.

“Who do you think you are? Repeat that!”

Before the attacker finished speaking, Ash spat some phlegm into his eyes. While he stumbled backwards in shock, Ash grabbed the bag and threw it at someone else.

“W-wait—cough, cough!”

They collided, the content of the bag mostly dust, causing another middle schooler to start coughing uncontrollably. The third one, fatter in stature, reacted and lunged towards Ash to grab him.

“I couldn’t defeat him in a direct confrontation—guess I’ll need other ways.”

Being small, Ash ducked the attempted grabs, ramming into one opponent’s unstable legs until all collided painfully into each other. One more critical blow and they collapsed on the ground, crying in pain.

Unskilled at fighting, he still managed.

The elementary student who called for reinforcements gawked, unable to believe three middle schoolers fell by a little boy!

“I won’t let you—ah!”

“You—yo-you, don’t come closer, sorry —!”

“Don’t do this again.”

Without turning his head, Ash retrieved the broken glasses he dropped, cleaned off the dust, put them back on, and left.

“They seem cracked.”

Back home,迎接的是父亲的责备。

“你知道老师怎么说你吗——！”

父亲劈头盖脸地吼道。

亚修明白自己一定是因为这事惹上了家长。

他的父母都极为普通，也许没什么文化，但深知教育的重要。因此，对教师的看法尤为信服。

再说确实上课睡觉在先，亚修无话可说。

“你知道老师都说什么吗？他说你目无法度，毫无敬意！”

“是，对不起。”

亚修默默低头接受责备。

亚修自幼就是个天才。

字面意义上的天才。他几乎无所不能，学习新事物或掌握技能飞快。似乎任何事情都不在话下，对他而言没有难题。

但如果只是这样，他的父母或许会为此欢欣鼓舞。但亚修不仅仅是“天才”，他在一些方面也和普通人一样脆弱。

他很快注意到，随着他对所有事情都迅速变得毫无兴趣，即使是简单的喝水或者等待都需要克服的懒惰。对于需要解决的问题，他总是等到最后一刻，临门一脚地应付过去。

真要他对学术、技艺或能力投入真正严肃的态度，可能需要某种能让他尊敬的力量。然而，他尚未见过这种力量，即使父母也只能勉强使他听从。

这种性格让他迅速成为他人嫉妒和排斥的对象，导致他遭受冷漠或直接欺凌。亚修认为，这就是他对这个不合群的世界的回应。

“你的镜片怎么回事？”

“不小心摔坏了。”

又是一个耳光打在脸上，亚修并未生气。他知道这是父亲特地挑选了店中最好的镜框，花了他半个月的薪水。他理应感到愤怒，但亚修并不在意。

“你这个败家子！你知道——”

“真的很对不起。”

亚修并不反对父亲“棍棒教育”。因为父亲和母亲只理解这种方式。

他没有生气、没有委屈，一如既往。

亚修独自关在房间里继续反思，直到母亲回来劝他父亲停止。

“我会反思的，但现在我先回房间休息。”

“等等。”

母亲的声音阻止了他。