The curriculum at the provincial key school has always been quite flexible.
Following the timetable strictly is the norm, but students are used to classes not always adhering to it. Sometimes, an entire afternoon might have no “core subjects,” leaving the time entirely for students to manage freely.
Such schools are rare these days. Although the country advocates for holistic education, everyone knows that without a good university degree, having only “qualities” is often useless. A degree is the entry ticket—only with it can other talents add value.
Most schools now squeeze students’ time and energy to the limit, piling on exercises and exams to churn out “test-taking machines,” especially in less-developed counties and towns where quantity is relied upon to spark quality. Wen Ying understood this approach—in limited conditions, being a “small-town test-taker” is often the best choice for students!
The provincial key school is different.
Even a decade or two later, parents are still scrambling to move to big cities, and those already settled are eyeing better school districts.
Setting aside the anxiety peddled by social media, is this educational investment worth it?
Wen Ying thought it was.
The teenage years are a critical period for exploration and shaping one’s worldview. The information absorbed now has a lasting impact, possibly for a lifetime!
It’s not that other schools aren’t good, but few in Rongcheng react as swiftly as the provincial key school.
Hush, Little Secret became a hit, stirred controversy, and prompted parents to complain to the education bureau. Schools were in a bind—should they confiscate the book or turn a blind eye? The provincial key school acted quickly, decisively launching a health education campaign without hiding or hesitating.
The school faced pressure for this—some parents likely couldn’t accept it.
But the provincial key school did it anyway, and fast.
Lin Lin brought the book to class, encouraging students to discuss it and write their reflections, with other classes doing the same.
Lin Lin assumed everyone had read it, but at first, no one admitted it, and no one spoke up.
Students exchanged glances, eyes darting, until someone giggled, and the whole classroom burst into laughter.
“Teacher Lin, we haven’t read it!”
“Yeah, don’t accuse us…”
A few class troublemakers started jeering, but Lin Lin smiled, unfazed: “Haven’t read it? No problem, there’s still time.”
The class monitor, the most honest and responsible, blushed but took charge: “Stop pretending. This book’s been passed around like crazy—who hasn’t read it? I have!”
Smack.
The monitor pulled a copy from his desk.
Because of Hush, Little Secret’s exaggerated cover slogan, he had wrapped it in a book cover.
The troublemakers didn’t dare tease anymore.
In Class 16, the monitor’s presence was usually low-key. With the school’s heartthrob and top student Xie Qian, pop star Li Mengjiao, and Wen Ying, who quietly won first prize in the New Concept Writing Contest, the class was a “galaxy of stars.” Its open-minded atmosphere embraced diverse personalities—not cookie-cutter students churning out exam answers like assembly-line products. In fact, the extracurricular lives of the experimental class students were far more vibrant than most could imagine, never just parroting teachers.
Free-spirited, holistic education—another way to say hard to manage.
From homeroom teacher Lin Lin to subject teachers, all were used to sparring intellectually with students, maintaining passion for career growth. If their teaching was questioned, their authority would crumble. Teachers knew that besides school evaluations, students secretly rated them too.
Even with Class 16’s rowdy bunch, the monitor was indispensable!
He might be a bit strait-laced, but he didn’t snitch to teachers and stepped up to settle disputes. Even the rowdiest students gave him face—who’d take on his tough job if he quit?
So when the monitor stood up first, the laughter stopped, and everyone admitted they’d read the book.
“Alright, why so nervous? I’m not going to scold you.” Lin Lin, with years of teaching experience, had honed her skills in connecting with students. Being young, she had a small generation gap, and her usual rapport with students was good. Now, deliberately setting the mood, Class 16 soon opened up.
Wen Ying was the second to respond after the monitor.
“Teacher Lin, I think this book is great—not just for us, but we should take it home for our parents to read. It’s 2005—humans landed on the moon 44 years ago. We’ve left Earth, so why shouldn’t we know about our body’s changes? If possible, I hope the publisher releases a second book in the series soon. I’d buy it immediately!”
As a seasoned soul in a young body, Wen Ying saw Hush, Little Secret as proper science education.
Such books should not only be published—she thought there were too few of them.
She wasn’t cheering for Zou Weijun. Even if someone else planned it, she’d support it.
She understood the concerns of parents reporting the book but didn’t agree with their actions. Society’s progress is unstoppable—if “sex” can’t be discussed, why not return to feudal times?
As soon as Wen Ying spoke, her fan Li Mengjiao led the applause.
Though Li Mengjiao blushed at the book’s illustrations, Wen Ying’s boldness inspired her not to lag behind.
Wen Ying’s words were spot-on: humans landed on the moon 44 years ago—why, in 2005, shouldn’t we know about our body’s changes?
Laughing? What’s so funny?
Boys go through voice changes, morning erections, wet dreams.
Girls get periods, their chests grow, some feel pain when bumped during development.
Everyone’s changing—no one should mock anyone.
Li Mengjiao recalled girls in primary school who got their periods early, sneaking to the bathroom to change pads, and clapped harder: This is growing up—everyone grows up!
“I’ve read it too—what’s the big deal? It’s not like it hurts. It’s awkward at first, but you get used to it!”
“I read it too…”
“I want my mum to read it. She’s always paranoid, suspecting I’m dating, interrogating me over borrowing a boy’s notes.”
“It’s well-written, more detailed than our junior high textbooks. I didn’t understand before and was too shy to ask.”
Once the conversation started, it didn’t stop.
Wen Ying glanced at Xie Qian.
No one asked if Xie Qian had read it, but Wen Ying knew he had—it was his mother’s labour of love.
Xie Qian happened to look up, and Wen Ying quickly looked away. Thinking of the book’s content, Xie Qian wasn’t shy about the health sections but cared more about its take on early romance psychology.
