Your Homework Is a Perfect Score

Hum! The Exam King's school uniform flew out from Bai Zhou's chest of its own accord, hovering in midair. The notebook left behind by Class Monitor Fang also began to glow, slowly rising from the ground. The uniform radiated a dim, grayish-black glow, while the notebook blossomed with a pure white, translucent brilliance. The grayish-black radiance swirled with negative emotions—sorrow, heartache, guilt, and suffocating gloom. Meanwhile, from the translucent white light of the notebook, cheerful laughter faintly echoed, carrying warm hope. "The notebook and the uniform... These things can actually form a combo set?" One black, one white, shining in mutual resonance in midair. Bai Zhou's expression shifted slightly. He swiftly turned, positioning himself to block the two items from view. Fortunately, the grove was secluded enough. Looking left and right, he saw no students coming their way. "This domain is as an egg, untainted by the dust without!" Bai Zhou silently raised his right middle finger, bit the skin open, and let his blood saturate the patterns carved into it. After a sharp sting, a miniature ritual was ignited. Bai Zhou chanted the incantation in a low voice: "Bloqueo—!" A dense infinity symbol, "∞," woven from minuscule characters, lit up at Bai Zhou's fingertips. Hum! Three translucent curtains unfurled in all directions, shielding him from the sight of passersby. A ritual of "curtain" and "blockade" reappeared. It was a bare-bones, dirt-cheap miniature version of the concealment ritual Crow had once set up at the base. The path of rituals was vast and profound. Even Crow was merely a seeker in this field, worlds away from the true ritual masters she spoke of—those who could alter the course of a world war simply by changing a few written words. As for Bai Zhou... he was an apprentice among apprentices. Consequently, many rituals—even basic entry-level versions—remained beyond his grasp for now. For a beginner like him, setting up these intricate and varied rituals required time and materials, with no guarantee of success. Yet he was currently on the run, and time was short. To solve this problem, Crow had simply taken several handy, commonly used rituals, simplified them into heavily weakened miniature versions, and carved them directly onto Bai Zhou's fingers. For instance, the hypnosis ritual on his right index finger, or the one he was using right now. His other eight fingers corresponded to the miniature self-enhancement rituals Bai Zhou regularly used. Adrenaline surges, acceleration, physical reinforcement, and the like... Though their potency was far inferior to the original rituals, they had one overwhelming advantage: instant casting! Instant casting! Whenever needed, just a touch of the corresponding medium would trigger the ritual in a heartbeat—swift and convenient. Bai Zhou could never have drawn such delicate instant-ritual sigils himself. Crow had used her great Tang dao—a weapon longer than she was tall—and held Bai Zhou's hands, micrometer by micrometer, micro-carving them onto his ten fingers. At the start, watching Crow draw such a massive blade and measure it against his fingers, Bai Zhou's face had turned as green as a goblin's. Shivering, he had brainstormed in terror for half a day, reviewing every single thing he had done and every ill word he had spoken lately, yet he still could not fathom where he had offended the big boss to the point of needing to sever his fingers to atone. Even within the Black Robes, that was considered an extraordinarily harsh organizational punishment! ...Later on, however, Bai Zhou only wished he had grown a few extra fingers. Hum... The wind ceased to stir here. Everything in the small grove returned to stillness, leaving only the resonance humming between the uniform and the notebook. To his surprise, Bai Zhou discovered a clear synergy between them. As the two emotions blended, they vaguely projected the phantom of a school. This school bore a passing resemblance to Yuanmeng Middle School, with students coming and going in vivid detail. "What is this...?" The instant he laid eyes on the school, Bai Zhou felt a suffocating sense of pressure. He had never cared much about schools in general, yet looking at this one made him feel like a condemned prisoner gazing at open prison gates—a deep-seated urge to stay far away, mingled with an inexplicable dread. "What on earth is that!" Forcing his gaze away, Bai Zhou realized with a start that merely looking at the "school" had stiffened his whole body, as though he had willingly put on heavy shackles without a stray thought. The only regret was that Bai Zhou had no idea what this reflection could be used for, because it was "incomplete." Was it a projection? A map? A prison? Or could it literally summon a school to crush someone's skull? No one knew. The school jointly projected by the two items was so faint it was barely visible, practically melting into the transparent daytime air. It could not be driven, could not be used, and had not truly manifested. It was as if... something was missing! "This deficiency probably stems from the notebook Fang Xiaoyan left behind," Bai Zhou mused. The answer was quite simple: Bai Zhou saw that the grayish-black light pouring from the uniform was a massive, unending torrent, whereas the radiance emanating from the notebook fell considerably short. The black and white were not balanced, which was likely why the "set effect" could not truly manifest. With that in mind, Bai Zhou carefully reached out and plucked the notebook from midair. As expected, the projection of the school vanished, and the uniform gently floated downward, caught by Bai Zhou. With the yellowed notebook in one hand and the old-fashioned uniform in the other, Bai Zhou had a feeling that if he simultaneously infused both with spirituality, he could project that school once more. His expression turning solemn, Bai Zhou stowed the uniform away and looked down at the yellowed notebook. In his memory, every time he saw Class Monitor Fang, she was holding this notebook. He had assumed it was simply her signature trait, like the stereotype of an elementary schooler bounding along with an oversized backpack. He had never imagined its existence was so "important"! If the uniform was the true form of the Exam King, then this notebook might be the true form of "Class Monitor Fang"—the manifestation of "Fang Xiaoxia's departed ideal." Driven by curiosity, Bai Zhou opened the notebook. On the first page, he indeed saw Fang Xiaoxia's full name. Only, the handwriting was very childish and crooked, resembling the drawing Bai Zhou had picked up earlier... The drawing? Bai Zhou froze, then pulled the crumpled drawing from his chest. Sure enough, the paper's dimensions matched the notebook in his hands perfectly, and the edges showed tear marks. This drawing... Had it come from this notebook as well? Rustle... Bai Zhou turned to the next page. The title that greeted his eyes read: After-School Homework: What Kind of Person I Want to Be in the Future So it really was homework assigned by a teacher... Bai Zhou focused his gaze. On the paper were crooked pencil strokes, cluttered with eraser smudges, a heap of misspelled characters, and pinyin: Become class monitor! (Be amazing like in cartoons!) Help the kids who fall down (><) Make sure no one fights and everybody becomes good friends!ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ Solve all hard problems and worries! (Become an all-powerful person!) Make everyone around me happy because of me! Follow the five great pledges to grow up: never go to school on an empty stomach, air the futon on nice days, watch out for cars when crossing the street, don't rely on others' strength, play on the ground with bare feet, and then, become everyone's Light! ... "Riddled with typos, aren't we... Student Fang?" Bai Zhou murmured. In front of each wish, a neat little check mark had seemingly been drawn later in red pen. Those check marks were bright and clear, standing in stark contrast to the child's tender handwriting—a silent testament to years of quiet devotion. Without a doubt, this was the handiwork of "Fang Xiaoyan." Every check mark recorded an action "Class Monitor Fang" had taken at this school. Every bit of "Class Monitor Fang's" vigil over the campus was here. Just as she had said, every innocent, grand dream Fang Xiaoxia had once listed on this homework sheet had been diligently fulfilled by Fang Xiaoyan in her own way. Inexplicably, Bai Zhou recalled Fang Xiaoyan's relieved, lighthearted, and cheerful expression. In a daze, he seemed to hear her satisfied laughter every time she added a red check mark: "All done... (～￣▽￣)～" ...Then, Bai Zhou's gaze fell upon the final line of the list. There was another line of text there, written in the same hand, yet standing completely alone. It was the only line without a red check mark signifying "completed"— Fang Xiaoxia, become a strong adult! The word "strong" was misspelled, and behind the sentence, the girl had drawn a tiny fist cheering herself on: (_) This line was different. It was not about "becoming" a certain kind of person; it was Fang Xiaoyan's wish left for the "original," Fang Xiaoxia. Fang Xiaoyan could become the class monitor for her, help others for her, and fight the "Exam King" for her, but she could not become a strong adult in Fang Xiaoxia's place. Perhaps it was the lack of completion for this single wish that rendered the notebook imperfect. This reminded Bai Zhou of the parting words Fang Xiaoyan had asked him to pass along. It all tied together. This was a development Bai Zhou had never anticipated, for he hadn't expected the matter to ultimately circle back to the ordinary girl, Fang Xiaoxia... Still, that was no longer "Fang Xiaoyan's" story. Letting out a slow breath, Bai Zhou looked at the list of dreams written in childish prose, mixed with pinyin and typos. His expression grew complex. Flipping further, he found the stub where a page had been torn out, the rough frayed edge plainly visible. Bai Zhou set the drawing of the "proud, spirited Class Monitor Fang" against it. As expected, it aligned perfectly. Wearing her armband and saluting proudly, the spirited, all-powerful little class monitor—Fang Xiaoyan's image sprang vividly from the paper. Though he had seen his share of partings in the Deep Ruin Realm and had witnessed what happened to Section Chief Liu... Bai Zhou still could not bear scenes like this. Perhaps goodbyes were simply that way. When he had just seen Fang Xiaoyan off and watched the rain of light fall, he had felt little in his heart. Yet now, looking at the relic she had left behind, an ache settled in his chest. Grief was never a sudden flash flood; it was a persistent, damp rainy season, weighing heavy on the heart only when remembered in quiet moments afterward. With a wave of his hand, Bai Zhou dispelled the three barrier curtains shielding the area and looked up at the sky. Night had fallen. A time that should have been quiet was instead buzzing with noise—school had let out for the evening break. Some students were leaving campus, while others hurried to the cafeteria for dinner. At this hour, Bai Zhou should have left the school to regroup with Crow and prepare early for the Major's compass to pinpoint their location again. Yet before that... there was one important thing Bai Zhou still wanted to do. So, moving against the stream of students heading out of class, he walked toward the faculty office. Even with the day's classes done, the tired faces of the students retained a touch of numbness. Evening self-study still awaited them. Everything on campus proceeded as usual; none of the students felt that today was any different from before. Only Bai Zhou knew that something had quietly shifted. Not only was the Exam King dead, but even the ritual sigils hidden in the corners of the campus had completely shattered and vanished following Fang Xiaoyan's departure. It seemed Fang Xiaoyan had been right: those ritual symbols had given birth to both her and the Exam King, but later, once she and the Exam King became deeply bound to the school, the two of them had become part of the ritual itself. With their disappearance, the ritual naturally broke. —The shadow looming over the school was gone. The negative influence that had silently spread among the students, driving them increasingly manic, had vanished without a trace. From now on, year after year, Yuanmeng Middle School might no longer guarantee a one-hundred-percent key-high-school acceptance rate, but every student would regain the freedom to dream. Though their future paths would differ, they would eventually walk into their own futures, brilliant in their own ways. ...And all of this was the fruit of Fang Xiaoyan's battle. —Every student in this school was a witness to Fang Xiaoyan's achievement. Walking among the students, Bai Zhou thought to himself. Right then... The chatter of passing students drifted into his ears. "Did you hear? One of the bathrooms exploded! It was wild! A biogas leak, and it even knocked out the power!" "Oh. Does that mean evening self-study is canceled?" "Don't think so. The school is already switching to backup power." "Oh." "..." Brief exchanges, hurried footsteps, students passing by Bai Zhou. Lowering his eyes in thought, Bai Zhou returned to his office. Closing the office door, Bai Zhou sat back in his seat and pulled a red pen from the pen holder. Rustle. With great care, he opened the notebook Fang Xiaoyan had left behind on his desk. In the quiet office, Bai Zhou held the red pen. With immense solemnity, behind the cheering fist symbol "(_)" at the very end of the list, he drew something in red. First, a large swirling circle, followed by petals along the edges. In the center, Bai Zhou gently dotted a few marks, making the red flower look more like a child's bright, innocent smiling face, as if answering that encouraging little fist. —If it was homework, how could it lack a teacher's grade? Bai Zhou felt this was what he ought to do. This flower with a smiling face was Bai Zhou's response across time and space. It did not signify that Fang Xiaoyan's unfulfilled final wish had been achieved, but it was an accolade for the clumsy yet sincere "effort" itself. Perhaps the story belonging to Fang Xiaoxia had not yet begun. Yet Bai Zhou felt that Fang Xiaoyan's story deserved such a little red flower. Fang Xiaoyan had tried so hard; she had truly done so well. A Class Monitor Fang who worked this hard deserved a teacher's praise. As for the rest of the homework, let me finish it for you... Thinking this, he lifted the pen and closed the notebook. "Student Fang Xiaoyan, congratulations on graduating." Bai Zhou looked down at the big red flower on the notebook, his eyes gentle, and whispered softly: "A little red flower, just for you." "Your homework gets a perfect score." Yet... The moment his words fell— As if sensing the little red flower, the notebook suddenly shone again, humming incessantly. Hum! At that exact instant, the Dead Sea Secret Scrolls nestled in Bai Zhou's chest began to tremble alongside it. A change Bai Zhou had never anticipated... had arrived.