At dinner the previous evening, Tan Wenbin had mentioned that a lottery drawing fair would be held at the Shigang Town plaza over the weekend.
In those days, the lottery industry had only been established on the mainland for a few years, but the scratch-off craze was already sweeping everywhere in an approachable, down-to-earth fashion.
A large open square would be lined along both sides with vendors in matching uniforms. The bustling crowd strolled between them, free to purchase single tickets or entire boxes, scratching them off and redeeming prizes right on the spot.
The grand prize was usually a sedan, propped up high in the most conspicuous spot.
Li Zhuiyuan felt as though every night before bed, he was clutching a lottery ticket, and waking up was the moment to cash it in.
Moreover, there was always a respectable baseline return, along with frequent, delightful surprises.
Take this morning, for instance. When he opened his eyes, he saw Ah Li wearing a horse-face skirt embroidered with dark gold patterns, paired with a white blouse that lent her an air both dashing and refined.
Perhaps sensing his preference, she had been wearing horse-face skirts far more often of late.
And this was already the result of Liu Yumei's earnest dissuasion: "Oh, my dear granddaughter, even if he likes it, you can't wear the exact same style every single day. He'll get tired of looking at it!"
Another large table had been placed in the room, laid out with brushes, paper, and all kinds of pigments.
All of these had been hauled directly from Liu Yumei's quarters by Ah Li.
From the paper to the brushes, none of them were ordinary goods. Even the mineral pigments were prepared using ancient methods. Liu Yumei was not particular about food, yet the everyday items she used were rare treasures—some could even be classified as cultural relics.
Naturally, she herself likely never considered this extravagant. From childhood onward, this was simply the life she had always lived.
Just like before, when her greeting gifts had been jade thumb rings or fine earrings, and the cash she handed out for presents was counted in thick stacks. She truly had not been flaunting wealth.
The difference between flaunting wealth and true generosity lay in whether one genuinely intended to give it away.
At the moment, Ah Li was painting.
She no longer needed to wake early just to sit inside his room waiting for him to open his eyes.
Li Zhuiyuan sat up and gave a gentle stretch.
Holding her brush, the girl looked over, tilting her head slightly.
Li Zhuiyuan smiled, slipped out of bed, and went to wash up. When he walked back with his washbasin in hand, Liu Yumei waved to him from below.
"Grandma Liu."
"Come on down, bring your paintings. Let Grandma have a look."
"Yes, Grandma."
Liu Yumei smiled and took a seat. The Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula would have to wait until Ah Li's condition was completely healed before she could take this little rascal as a nominal Liu disciple and teach it to him.
Yet things like the zither, weiqi, calligraphy, and painting posed no taboo; those she could teach freely.
No, wait—the boy didn't need her to teach him weiqi anymore. He played better than she did.
Li Zhuiyuan carried down two scrolls and spread them across the tea table.
One was a piece he had just finished, while the other was painted by Ah Li.
Both depicted the same scene: the view of the countryside at early dawn from the second-floor terrace. It was that very sight that had inspired Li Zhuiyuan to learn painting in the first place.
Liu Yumei scanned the scrolls, then furrowed her brows slightly and remarked, "If you had any ordinary teacher, they would praise you as a genius, because it truly is well painted."
"Grandma, please enlighten me."
"The issue lies right there. In terms of technique, your imitation of Ah Li is so flawless that one can hardly tell the difference. But when it comes to restraint and release, you handle it too effortlessly—so effortlessly that it feels deliberate. At first glance it looks wonderful, but upon closer appreciation, it reeks of mechanical craftsmanship."
"You're right, Grandma. That really is my flaw."
Though both paintings portrayed the exact same scenery—with Ah Li's style tending darker and bleaker while his was sunnier—Ah Li's brushstrokes seemed to breathe and move, whereas his, even when arranged to simulate motion, remained utterly lifeless.
"In the way of painting and calligraphy, many spend their entire lives drilling technique. But for a true master, creating art only becomes interesting when they invent new approaches and distinctive styles. To put it plainly, you must pour genuine emotion into it."
Li Zhuiyuan's gaze dimmed.
"You are still young. To paint like this is already remarkable; there's no need to force melancholy just to compose a sorrowful verse."
"Thank you for your guidance."
"Hardly guidance. It's only because it's you that I spoke so severely. In truth, I'm just nitpicking."
Li Zhuiyuan smiled, nodded, and rolled up the scrolls.
Auntie Liu came out at just the right moment, calling, "Breakfast is ready!"
Sitting down, he reached for a salted duck egg to peel for Ah Li, but the girl beat him to it.
When he reached for a second one, she took that away too.
Before long, she had peeled an egg clean and set it before him.
His sight had recovered, yet there were certain habits the girl refused to change back.
Li Zhuiyuan ate while pondering Liu Yumei's words. After a month of study, his skill was actually good enough to win competitions, given that he fell into the junior category.
Yet before a true connoisseur, his work showed far more mechanical stiffness than that of old artisans who made a living solely by copying famous scrolls.
If he kept practicing like this, his ultimate destination would probably be a renowned art forger.
Still, how could he pour emotion into it?
Perhaps the landscape itself was the problem. What if he simply changed his subject?
Li Zhuiyuan looked at Ah Li, who was carefully picking out pieces of duck egg with her chopsticks, and an idea sprouted in his mind.
"*Aaaah-haaaah...*"
Tan Wenbin let out a loud, drawn-out yawn.
His father had agreed to let him keep staying here, and had permitted him to commute to and from school with Little Yuan while skipping morning and evening self-study sessions. In reality, however, his days were hardly easy.
No matter how fast he solved exercises, he could never outpace the speed at which Little Yuan wrote new ones for him. What was more, he could sense that Little Yuan's skill at designing test questions was steadily improving.
At first, the boy had given him entire notebooks filled with brutally tough problems. Now, he took care to balance difficult questions with easier ones. Tan Wenbin could even tell that certain problems were deliberately designed so he could rack his brains, work through the calculations step by step, and experience a sense of accomplishment.
Even though he saw through the trick, the joy was genuine. He felt like a little loach being gently kneaded and rolled about in Little Yuan's palms, and he took genuine pleasure in it.
His sole regret was that the past month had been remarkably quiet—not a single dead-flipper had surfaced.
He had asked Runsheng whether things had always been like this.
Runsheng had replied that before Tan Wenbin arrived, he had wondered why the village had suddenly seen so many floating corpses; once Tan Wenbin came, things had returned to normal.
This had left Tan Wenbin feeling guilty for a time, suspecting his own arrival had ruined the local feng shui.
Li Zhuiyuan, on the other hand, did not find the days dull. His main energies were split between learning to paint and studying the *Zhengdao Fumo Lu*, while also examining the ritual talismans and paraphernalia left behind by the dwarf father and son.
The boy felt his days were quite fulfilling. A moderate frequency of dead-flippers was far preferable; having Lady Bai one day and skinning at the fish pond the next was more than anyone could stomach.
Li Sanjiang was very quiet today, silently sipping his congee.
Once breakfast was finished, Runsheng wheeled out the tricycle.
Two small stools sat on the bed of the cart, each wrapped in cloth.
Tan Wenbin pushed out his bicycle.
That one ride back from school had been sheer torment for him; he had felt he belonged under the cart rather than inside it.
"Great-Grandpa." Li Zhuiyuan did not hurry onto the cart. Instead, he walked over to Li Sanjiang, putting on a faint look of bashful anticipation.
Most children of his age had worn that exact expression, especially before grandparents and great-grandparents.
"Haha, I know, I know."
Li Sanjiang reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. It wasn't a large sum—certainly far less than the crisp banknotes he used to toss to his great-grandson without a second thought—yet as a daily allowance, it was more than enough to make most rural children, and even city kids, green with envy.
When it came to spending, Li Sanjiang had always been generous, and he was even more openhanded toward Little Yuanhou.
"Hehe."
Li Zhuiyuan pocketed the daily allowance.
He had rejected Li Sanjiang's offer to give him an entire month's allowance at once. By asking for a small bit each day, he gave Great-Grandpa a daily dose of joy.
And it gave himself one more opportunity to try experiencing happiness.
Climbing onto the tricycle with Ah Li, they rode down from the courtyard.
The girl insisted on accompanying the boy on his school commute every morning and evening.
Li Zhuiyuan had taken special note of the fact that Liu Yumei had not sent Auntie Liu along, nor was Uncle Qin lurking in the shadows, having departed long ago.
She truly let her granddaughter go out like this, knowing what would be best for her in the long run.
Besides, with Runsheng guarding her, no harm could come to Ah Li.
Then again, even without Runsheng's protection, Ah Li was hardly in any danger. Runsheng was probably there more to ensure that anyone foolish enough to approach her wouldn't end up in genuine peril.
The gates of Dazhong High School were always at their liveliest morning, noon, and evening. The street shops along the front had opened early.
Sometimes Li Zhuiyuan would buy a steamed shaomai or a fried crescent pastry to share with Ah Li.
It was mostly for the novelty of the taste, since they had already eaten breakfast at home.
Other times he would buy small trinkets for Ah Li to help fill her collection box.
Liu Yumei had told Li Zhuiyuan that every night before bed, Ah Li would crouch before her collection box and carefully tidy each item, one by one.
It was a pity that Ah Li could not attend school.
By now, she showed no repulsion toward family members like Great-Grandpa, Tan Wenbin, or Runsheng, and did not react defensively when they drew near. She could even maintain her composure around frequent visitors like Li Weihan, Cui Guiying, Cuicui, Pan Zi, and Lei Zi.
Yet to have her sit in a classroom full of students was something she could never accept.
More importantly, Ah Li had no interest in school life, nor any longing for friends or companions. The conventional savior narrative was completely superfluous where she was concerned.
In fact, she might not even harbor any attachment to the world at large; the only thing she cherished was this "new world" that the boy allowed her to touch.
After waving goodbye to Runsheng and Ah Li, Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin followed the stream of middle school students through the front gates.
High school students started their morning self-study earlier, so aside from those living exceptionally close, most high schoolers—especially the seniors in twelfth grade—boarded on campus.
Tan Wenbin had boarded before, but after getting into a fight in the dorms, he had become a day student.
Stepping into the senior high school building, the second period of morning self-study was already underway. Apart from the teachers' voices lecturing, the halls were quiet.
Tan Wenbin wore his book bag slung across one shoulder, flicking his bangs as he walked. He thoroughly enjoyed this maverick posture, convinced he possessed immense style.
Even when bumping into other teachers, the dean, or the principal along the way, he felt not the slightest intimidation. After all, they were always exceptionally gentle and polite toward his boss.
By extension, they would nod politely at him as well.
In truth, only Tan Yunlong and his wife still clung to the fantasy that their son might absorb a bit of the Star of Literary Brilliance's scholarly aura.
To the school leadership and teachers, sacrificing one Tan Wenbin to guarantee a provincial top scorer was a bargain of the highest order.
Li Zhuiyuan reached the classroom door. Teacher Su, the English instructor, was explaining a cloze test.
She smiled and waved to Li Zhuiyuan.
Li Zhuiyuan returned a standard, bashful smile.
Without calling out "Reporting!" to disturb his classmates, he walked straight in. Tan Wenbin slid into the inner seat first, and Li Zhuiyuan sat down beside him.
Pulling the *Zhengdao Fumo Lu* from his desk drawer, Li Zhuiyuan began reading.
Surrounded by an English classroom environment, this "classic text" seemed to carry an even richer fragrance.
Still, after sitting here for a month, he truly disliked this first-row seat beside the front door.
Every time his classmates passed by, they would deliberately slow their pace to look at him, even though he took great care not to make friends among them.
Students from other classes seemed to treat walking past this doorway as a mandatory stop during break time, despite Twelfth Grade Class 13 being located midway down the hall, nowhere near the path to the restrooms.
The teachers were even more exaggerated. Before and after class, they would rather take a detour just to stroll past, pausing by the window or doorway to cast warm, affectionate smiles, as if watering a prized orchid several times a day.
Because of him, the frequency of visits from the dean and principals had skyrocketed. They paid no heed to class schedules, which meant the students in this room no longer dared to read wuxia novels or whisper during lectures.
What used to be an occasional jump-scare outside the window had now turned into facing grim reality head-on.
Li Zhuiyuan genuinely favored the very last row of this column. Next to the rear door, spacious, and free of trash bins, which sat behind the row across the aisle.
From a feng shui perspective, sitting there gave command over the entire hall—a classic "hidden dragon in the deeps" position.
Next best were the desks flanking the teacher's podium, the Left and Right Protectors.
Previously, Tan Wenbin had been the Right Protector.
Yet the Right Protector sat with his back to the door—an unfavorable spot, prone to sudden shock and prone to syncope.
The premier spot was the Left Protector, shielded in front by the teacher's lectern. Inheriting the will of heaven above while standing shoulder to shoulder with the masses below, it was the epitome of the great recluse hiding in plain sight.
Then again, it was largely due to the sheer crowd: over seventy students crammed into a single class. When he had attended school in the past, there had never been so many people, and classes were reshuffled every semester—some students simply couldn't keep up, while others fell ill.
The bell for the end of morning self-study rang, bringing the English period to a close.
High school here scheduled four periods in the morning and four in the afternoon.
Yet morning self-study was split into two thirty-minute blocks, lunch self-study was an hour, and evening self-study consisted of four one-hour sessions.
On the class schedule, every study period was labeled with a subject, and the school mandated that teachers be present to conduct them as regular classes.
Such an intensive timetable had startled even Li Zhuiyuan. If they had operated on a schedule like this in his previous life, never mind whether he and his peers could have endured it—the professors would have collapsed from exhaustion in droves.
During the break, students began briskly packing up their stationery.
Li Zhuiyuan asked curiously, "Brother Binbin, what's going on?"
"The monthly exam is today. Didn't you know?" Tan Wenbin was packing his pencils too, but after glancing at the cloth-bound book in Li Zhuiyuan's hands, he paused. "Makes sense you wouldn't know."
A month into the semester, the diagnostic monthly exam began.
To prevent cheating, eleventh and twelfth graders were mixed together, assigned to different rooms according to their test numbers.
In reality, cheating in twelfth grade was pointless, sheer self-deception, yet reality often defied common sense, as plenty of seniors were willing to cheat all the way through the third mock exam.
Just then, homeroom teacher Sun Qing walked in and asked, "Little Yuan, do you want to take the monthly exam, or would you rather come sit in my office?"
"I'll take it. But could I get the exam papers for all subjects during the first session?"
"Sure, no problem. I'll go fetch them for you."
Li Zhuiyuan understood what the school wanted from him. Giving convenience to others was giving convenience to himself, so he had to participate in large examinations like this.
First, it ensured that the teachers would remain as gentle as a spring breeze while he continued skipping lectures and homework; second, it allowed him to gauge the curriculum's pulse so he could craft better exercises for Brother Binbin.
He truly wasn't skilled at teaching, so he was learning as he went.
Li Zhuiyuan stood up and walked to the front wall to check his seat assignment.
"Brother, come back! Your test seat is your regular desk!"
"Oh."
Li Zhuiyuan sat back down.
Tan Wenbin, meanwhile, headed to the first desk in the left-hand column.
In the past, Tan Wenbin had only read a quote in a magazine: *Unless you're handsome enough, you'll never know how forward girls can be.*
Now, he desperately wanted to add an addendum: *It turns out that as long as your grades are good enough, even a school can abandon all its dignity.*
The first subject was mathematics, proctored by their own math teacher, Teacher Yan.
After handing out the tests, Teacher Yan placed the exam papers for the remaining subjects on Li Zhuiyuan's desk. Patting the boy gently on the shoulder, he smiled.
"You can do the math paper. As for the other subjects, just pick and choose whatever you feel like answering."
"Yes, sir."
Then, Teacher Yan set his own teacup on the boy's desk. "A brand-new cup, freshly brewed tea."
"Thank you, Teacher."
The eleventh-grade boy assigned to the adjacent desk watched this scene with wide, terrified eyes.
Once the test began, seeing the little boy next to him scribbling answers across the page with a rapid *swish-swish-swish*, his mental state shattered completely.
*Wait, even if the answer key were laid right in front of you, you couldn't copy it that fast, could you?!*
Li Zhuiyuan finished the math paper in no time, then picked up the physics exam.
Teacher Yan walked down the aisle, picked up the math paper, took out a red pen, and began grading on the spot.
He was thoroughly pleased. He felt the boy had not grown arrogant from his brilliance, remaining humble and eager to improve.
Look at that: this time he hadn't used advanced, university-level methods on the comprehensive problems, and every single solution had a neat, prominent "Solution:" written before it.
When he reached the final section of the Chinese exam, Li Zhuiyuan paused.
The essay prompt was themed around: *Maternal Love*.
Yet it was only a brief pause. Li Zhuiyuan wrote a standard, textbook essay on maternal love, in which Li Lan was portrayed as impossibly loving, noble, and a shining role model for him to emulate.
The only part he couldn't complete was the English listening comprehension, so he simply left it blank.
Li Zhuiyuan checked his name on each paper, stood up, and handed the entire stack to Teacher Yan.
"Is your hand sore?"
"A little."
"I told you that you didn't have to write so much," Teacher Yan chided gently. "Why don't you go to my office to rest? Take a nap?"
"I'll go to the principal's office."
"Good idea. It's quiet there. Remember to come to the small lecture room during lunch study to go over some problems."
"Understood, Teacher Yan."
Standing by the lectern, Li Zhuiyuan looked down at Tan Wenbin. The boy had already reached the comprehensive problems and was writing continuously, with few pauses and no nail-biting.
Returning to his desk to collect his book, Li Zhuiyuan exited the examination room and headed straight for the principal's office.
As he neared the door, he heard loud voices from inside. His first instinct was to turn and find another office.
Yet among the voices, he recognized Li Sanjiang, Li Weihan, and Cui Guiying.
He knew why Great-Grandpa and his grandparents had come. Even though he had told them he was attending twelfth grade, and Tan Wenbin had testified to it—even Lei Zi, Pan Zi, and Ying Zi had vouched for it—it remained utterly beyond comprehension for the elderly folks. So they had formed a delegation today, specially coming to the school to see it with their own eyes.
Presumably, as soon as they walked onto campus, Principal Wu had ushered them into his office.
No wonder Great-Grandpa had been so quiet during breakfast.
An instinct urged Li Zhuiyuan to turn and walk away. He knew what would happen the moment he pushed that door open: the old folks' overwhelming delight and relief, Principal Wu's praise and encouragement.
He longed to evade this predetermined routine.
Yet in that moment, the sound of Li Lan's footsteps on the other end of the telephone line surfaced in his mind. He and she were not the same, after all.
This instinctive symptom of his illness was not impossible to overcome.
Li Zhuiyuan pushed open the office door. Inside, Great-Grandpa and his grandparents all stood up at once, gazing at the child. Li Zhuiyuan walked over and let them embrace him, wearing a gentle smile.
Principal Wu showered him with encouraging words, while Li Zhuiyuan kept his head half-lowered, displaying an impeccably measured bashfulness.
Having confirmed the truth, Great-Grandpa and the others soon took their leave. Li Zhuiyuan walked to the corridor railing, watching the three elderly figures head toward the school gate below.
Great-Grandpa had his hands on his hips, strutting with the grandiose strides of an imperial commissioner on an opera stage.
Li Weihan carried his water pipe behind his back. Normally steady and reticent, his shoulders were now swaying with every step.
Cui Guiying clutched a handkerchief, wiping away tears through an unbroken grin.
Li Zhuiyuan was glad he hadn't chosen to turn and leave.
Reflecting on the essay he had just written, he realized that imitating Li Lan had been a mistake from the start. He should have treated her as a cautionary tale much earlier to steer clear of her path.
Had he realized this sooner, his condition wouldn't have deteriorated so severely at such a young age.
"Little Yuan, your grandparents actually didn't believe you were in twelfth grade! Haha!"
Wu Xinhan pulled the boy back inside. He offered his own executive desk for the boy to read at, pulling soda and chocolate from his drawers.
He knew the boy had taken the monthly exam, which was wonderful—a regular dose of reassurance for everyone.
At the same time, he knew the boy was acting as a teaching assistant for the Math Olympiad group.
Li Zhuiyuan picked up his copy of Wei Zhengdao and began reading.
The principal sat across from him, reviewing documents. Whenever the urge to smoke struck, he stepped outside to light up, returning only when finished.
When the bell rang to signal the end of the morning's second exam session, Li Zhuiyuan declined the principal's invitation to eat a specially prepared meal at the cafeteria.
Walking to the school gate, he met up with Tan Wenbin, who was still accompanied by Zheng Haiyang.
Though the three of them often ate out, they didn't order stir-fried dishes every meal; they mostly stuck to noodles and fried rice. Even so, in those days, that was an indulgence only children of dual-income families could afford.
Most students came from rural households. Many didn't even visit the cafeteria, choosing instead to eat the dry rations they had brought from home in their dorms.
Pickled vegetables and salted bean paste were brought from home as well, often shared around so everyone could taste each other's mother's cooking.
Tan Wenbin had plenty of money. Ever since he started following Li Zhuiyuan, his parents had drastically increased his allowance. Zheng Haiyang was even wealthier; otherwise, those street thugs wouldn't have targeted him for extortion.
In those years, seamen earned high wages alongside ample foreign income. Measured purely by pocket money, Tan Wenbin looked like a pauper next to Zheng Haiyang.
Tan Wenbin ordered five bowls of noodles—one for himself, two for his brain.
Zheng Haiyang ran off to buy three bottles of soda, along with three fried eggs, three large pork meatballs, and three chicken legs.
He loved hanging out with them. Runsheng had thrashed that gang of thugs so viciously last time that none of them dared cause him trouble anymore. Moreover, given Li Zhuiyuan's current status in the school, no one on campus had the nerve to cross him.
"Brother Yuan, Brother Bin, I had a dream last night."
Zheng Haiyang had taken to calling Little Yuan "Brother," copying Tan Wenbin.
"What dream?" Tan Wenbin asked, taking a massive bite of chicken leg.
"I dreamed my dad took me treasure hunting. It felt so real."
"Isn't your dad out at sea?"
"Yeah. Diving for treasure. There were several sunken ships on the seabed, packed with gold, silver, and jewels."
"Hah, so how much did you haul up?"
"Not much. Just as I was about to grab them, I woke up."
"What kind of dream is that? You should've at least grabbed the gold and silver, come ashore, and found dream-me to live it up!"
"Hehehe." Zheng Haiyang scratched his head.
Tan Wenbin turned to Li Zhuiyuan. "Brother Little Yuan, can you interpret this dream?"
Li Zhuiyuan shook his head and sipped his noodle broth. "I don't know how to interpret dreams."
"Right, makes sense. The dream's way too flashy anyway. You kid, you're crazy about getting rich! Your family's already so well off, why are you still so obsessed with money?"
"Maybe because I was terrified of being extorted before. If I couldn't produce the money, they'd beat me."
Li Zhuiyuan kept his head down, eating his noodles. In truth, he knew how to interpret dreams. Compared to face-reading and fortune-telling, dream interpretation was merely basic, lower-tier work.
Most dreams were simply "what occupies the mind by day manifests in dreams by night," and could be explained along those lines.
Except for a rare few, which were genuine premonitions.
The most classic example was a conception dream, which might not be dreamt by the mother herself, but by a relative.
Another occurred when a loved one passed away: someone unaware of the tragedy might genuinely dream of them that very night.
Sunken ships, the ocean floor, gold and silver, a father leading a treasure hunt that ended in vain...
Occupation, peril, parting... all the elements were there.
In ancient times, when communication and roads were poor, if a child separated by vast distances suddenly had such a dream, a dream reader would tell them either to return home immediately or prepare to don mourning sackcloth and wail toward the horizon.
Many accounts by scholar-officials featured similar episodes. They took such signs with the utmost gravity, as they directly affected official careers through mandatory mourning leave.
Still, such things were never a certainty. Li Zhuiyuan always restrained himself from casually reading faces or telling fortunes, so he naturally wouldn't expand on the topic.
Zheng Haiyang suddenly said in a low, tentative voice, "Brother Little Yuan, is everything really okay?"
He was introverted, but introverts were often perceptive; his earlier remarks had merely been laying the groundwork.
Li Zhuiyuan feigned confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I asked the elderly folks in my neighborhood. They told me that this kind of dream is bad luck, and told me to dream about happier things."
Li Zhuiyuan shook his head and said with absolute conviction, "Feudal superstitions are all nonsense meant to deceive people."
"*Pffft—*"
The noodles in Tan Wenbin's mouth sprayed out instantly, with two strands shooting straight out of his nostrils.
He immediately ducked his head to wipe himself down with napkins. *If I hadn't seen you use feng shui to finish off that dwarf father and son with my own eyes, I might actually have believed you!*
"Hehe." A smile returned to Zheng Haiyang's face. "Brother Little Yuan, how did you do on the exams this morning?"
Tan Wenbin chimed in, "Except for English, he probably aced all of them."
"Huh? We took English this morning?"
"While we were taking math, he finished all the subjects! By the way, why didn't you ask how I did?"
"So how did you do, Brother Bin?"
"I don't know. In the past, during exams, the questions recognized me, but I didn't recognize them. Today, they felt familiar, like old friends dropping by for a visit."
"So is that good or bad?"
"I'm not sure. I'm worried they might take advantage of the familiarity to screw me over."
"What?"
"Let's wait for the scores. I don't know if my answers are right, but I wrote something for every single one. I even answered the final comprehensive problems in math and physics!"
"Brother Bin, this isn't Chinese class. You don't get points just for filling the blank spaces."
"Get out of here! You think I need you to tell me that?"
After lunch, the three returned to school. Three more exams awaited in the afternoon, while lunch self-study proceeded with regular instruction.
Li Zhuiyuan did not return to the classroom, heading instead to a small lecture room normally kept empty.
Over a dozen students were already seated inside, drawn from both eleventh and twelfth grades, selected by the mathematics faculty to prepare for the municipal Math Olympiad.
At that time, the Math Olympiad craze was at its peak on the mainland. Advancing through the ranks to secure a top placement offered a colossal advantage for college admissions.
Li Zhuiyuan had originally been invited by Teacher Yan to study and compete, but after just a few days, several math teachers had invited him to compose problems instead.
Because Olympiad problems were far more difficult and flexible, Li Zhuiyuan had often witnessed teachers and students alike furrowing their brows in deep concentration when he first joined the group.
He soon realized he had been judging others by his own privileged standards. His own learning conditions in the past had been extraordinarily lavish, but that was limited to elite institutions in major cities. Looking across the nation, the commercial market for supplementary competition materials was only just budding; many schools still had to plead with larger high schools elsewhere to photocopy their mock exams for their own students.
On the blackboard were the problems Li Zhuiyuan had written the day before. Half of them had already been checked off. Picking up a piece of chalk, Li Zhuiyuan began writing out the solutions beneath the remaining questions.
Below, the students and teachers wore enlightened expressions, murmuring one after another:
"Ohh~ so that's how it's done!"
Li Zhuiyuan found it quite effortless. Teaching them was far simpler than teaching Binbin; he didn't need to spell out every step in minute detail, nor did he need to balance difficulty levels to preserve their enthusiasm.
Even if someone failed to understand after seeing the steps, they would consult those beside them; if they still couldn't grasp it, it didn't matter—they would simply be dropped from the team and sent back to regular classes.
After wiping the board clean, Li Zhuiyuan continued writing new problems.
The teachers and students below began copying them down. Unless a competition was imminent, everyone had their own teaching duties or classwork; they couldn't spend all day holed up here.
Outside, Principal Wu had brought along several vice principals and deans, quietly observing from the doorway.
Watching the tiny figure having to stand on a bench just to write problems on the blackboard, their faces radiated the pure joy of discovering oil on their own farmland.
"I think several of our kids will advance through the municipal competition this time."
"I'd say at least one is a guaranteed pass..."
"Don't you also think that guaranteed pass has a high chance of taking first place in the entire city?"
Nantong was already an educational powerhouse, and each of its six subordinate counties and county-level cities possessed prestigious secondary schools.
Their own high school, even within this county, was not considered top-tier. Starting out felt like playing on hellish difficulty.
Wu Xinhan stroked his chin, feeling immensely gratified. It had truly been worth driving out personally to invite the boy to enroll.
At past meetings, he had been forced to listen to administrators from other schools flaunting their achievements behind a veneer of false modesty. Wu Xinhan had drafted countless sarcastic retorts in his head; it seemed his turn to put on a show had finally arrived.
Just then, one of the deans beside him, intoxicated with excitement, blurted out, "Does this count as college entrance exam migration for us?"
The colleagues around him immediately stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
Wu Xinhan couldn't help but chuckle, rehearsing his dry wit on the spot: "Who on earth migrates from Beijing to Jiangsu just to take the gaokao?"
Pausing, he added, "You genius, why don't you haul coal from the Northeast to sell in Shanxi while you're at it?"
The dean hastily raised his hands in surrender. "I just meant that kind of joy!"
Once the Olympiad session concluded, Li Zhuiyuan returned to the principal's office.
He saw the principal hanging a curtain alongside two physical education teachers, behind which sat a spring cot.
"Little Yuan, you can rest here from now on. The desks in the classroom are far too hard."
When the afternoon exams ended, there was still some time before school let out. Li Zhuiyuan returned to the classroom.
After an entire day of testing, everyone looked drained of life.
Even Tan Wenbin had his head drooping.
Yet more exams awaited that evening. To compress the schedule, every subject was being tested today.
This meant Tan Wenbin couldn't leave school with him this evening.
"Brother Binbin, are you going home tonight?"
"Nah, I'll go to Zhuangzhuang's place after the evening exams."
"Oh."
"I'll wait until the monthly exam scores come out before heading home." Tan Wenbin propped his head up, opened a textbook, and began memorizing key concepts.
After reading for a short while, he slumped back down, rubbing his stomach. Hunger had brought his brain to a grinding halt.
Li Zhuiyuan reached into his pocket and handed him a chocolate bar.
"Huh?" Tan Wenbin immediately took it, unwrapped the foil, and popped it into his mouth. "Where'd you get this?"
"From the principal's office, hehe."
"I must say, this really is delicious. As expected of chocolate blessed by the principal!"
With that, Tan Wenbin raised his arm and mimed a basketball shot, tossing a chocolate bar toward Zheng Haiyang. It bounced off Zheng Haiyang's head, startling him; only when he realized it was chocolate did he let out a laugh.
Hearing the commotion, the female class monitor looked up and glared at him.
Tan Wenbin wasn't intimidated in the slightest, glaring right back.
What a joke—if he feared even the class monitor, how could he hold his head high as the Right Protector?
Still, after glaring back, Tan Wenbin tossed another piece in a high arc.
With a light *plink*, the chocolate landed squarely on the monitor's desk.
The monitor's face instantly flushed red.
The surrounding classmates erupted in unison: "*Oooooh!*"
Yet Tan Wenbin remained entirely oblivious. Having thrown it, he lowered his head and asked Li Zhuiyuan, "Brother Little Yuan, aren't you getting antsy about not retrieving any dead-flippers lately?"
"Not really."
"Don't you love retrieving dead-flippers the most?"
"Well, if we don't encounter any, what can I do?"
"Can't we go out and look? You go to school and back every day—a dead-flipper isn't going to conduct an inspection tour at school just to meet you. It's a corpse, not an official."
"My eyes had trouble last time."
"Uh, aren't they better now?"
"It made Great-Grandpa worry."
"Oh, I get it." Tan Wenbin nodded. "Fair point. Let's leave it to fate, then."
*Rrrriiiing—!*
The dismissal bell rang.
The students forced themselves upright and shuffled sluggishly out of the classroom in search of food. Knowing several more exams awaited them tonight, they appeared utterly lifeless, resembling a pack of floating corpses.
"Brother Binbin, let me borrow a few of your books and test papers. I'll take them back with me."
"Are you setting up an offering table to pray for my monthly exam scores?"
"Ah Li needs them."
"Sure, take them. Let me carry them for you. Haiyang and I have to eat by the gate anyway, so I can hand them right to Runsheng. Haiyang, Haiyang! What are you still sitting there for? Let's get food!"
The classroom had emptied out, leaving only Zheng Haiyang slumped over his desk.
Tan Wenbin walked over and patted him on the back. "What's wrong? Not feeling well? Weren't you fine just a minute ago?"
To his shock, that pat produced a wet, squelching *splat-splat*.
As if triggered by a reflex, Zheng Haiyang snapped upright from the desk. Water began oozing ceaselessly from his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes.
A damp puddle had already formed beneath his feet, spreading rapidly across the floor.
His face was ghastly pale, his expression vacant. In the next moment, like a drowning man straining his neck toward the surface,
he began to chant:
"There's a turtle, buried beneath the sea;
Whoever dares to meddle, his whole family will die!"
Chapter 51