Heaven and Hell

For the residents of 86 Eastleigh Road, Southampton City, Hampshire, July 29 was clearly no ordinary day.

The morning clock had just struck seven when young Jon Hart climbed out of bed.

He tossed a copy of Nature off himself, ran from his room, and headed for the Kitchen.

"Mom, has the letter arrived?"

Mrs. Judy Hart was the mistress of 86 Eastleigh Road, a petite blonde woman who was only slightly taller than her eleven-year-old son.

"I'm sorry, dear, it doesn't seem to have arrived yet." She was frying chips in the Kitchen. Turning around, she smiled at Jon. "Your father is waiting by the door."

Jon walked into the yard. Sure enough, Mr. Eric Hart was pacing by the gate.

"Eric, there's really no need to be this nervous," Jon said quietly.

"Nervous? I'm not nervous at all!" Mr. Hart glanced at his son and said with feigned composure, "Those old professors at Windsor Castle should feel honored that Eton has such an outstanding new student as you!"

Yet even as he spoke, his feet kept tapping restlessly against the ground.

Eric Hart was a somewhat well-known local lawyer, while his wife Judy was an excellent fashion designer. Both were outstanding in their respective fields, and their combined annual income was close to 200,000 Pound Sterling. Even in the relatively expensive port city of Southampton, the family of three could live a very respectable life.

But what made them even prouder was their child, Jon. In Eric and Judy's eyes, there was no finer child in the world than Jon.

Jon had always been an exceptionally sensible child... While other people's children were still crying and fussing, he had already begun earnestly learning to speak with his parents. While other children clamored for all kinds of toys, he had already started reading large quantities of obscure scientific journals.

When he was five, he gave an impromptu street interview speech titled "The Falkland Islands (Malvinas Islands) Have Been an Inseparable Part of Great Britain Since Ancient Times." It spread widely and won immense praise.

In the SATs, the National Primary School Leaving Examination, held across Britain a month ago, Jon had scored full marks on all six papers. It was arguably the best result in Hampshire's nearly century-long history.

Jon Hart was a transmigrator.

In his previous life, he had been a doctoral student in the biology department of a second-tier Project 211 university in China, specializing in Microbiology and Immunology. After losing consciousness in a car accident, he had found himself transported into a middle-class British family in the 1980s, becoming a baby.

Having spent more than twenty years studying in his previous life, Jon did not know lottery numbers, nor did he understand finance at all... In fact, by the end of the twentieth century and the beginning of the twenty-first, class divisions in developed capitalist countries had largely solidified, and their systems were quite complete. Trying to make a fortune through trickery with nothing but a few memories from a previous life was not very realistic.

He had no Golden Finger, though he seemed to have received a small transmigration benefit: after transmigrating, his memory had become incredibly good, almost reaching the level of Eidetic Memory.

Therefore, Jon decided to follow the path of his previous life: study hard, devote himself to research, and strive for Socialist Modernization for the rest of his life!

As early as the age of five, he had already made a detailed plan for the next thirty-odd years.

He would display a few traits of a "child prodigy" from a young age, achieve excellent SATs results, and apply to top secondary schools such as St. Paul's, Magdalen, and Eton.

Then, using the excellent platform of a top secondary school and performing well in the A-Level examinations, the British college entrance examination, he would enter the Microbiology department at Cambridge or Oxford.

With the help of his exceptional memory in this life, Jon could clearly recall research data and findings from decades later in his previous life. That could help him avoid many detours on the road of scientific research.

During university, Jon would begin displaying his "talent" for research. He would conduct experiments revealing the mechanisms behind the activation and inhibition of innate immunity, then publish relevant papers. Around the millennium, such a groundbreaking paper would definitely cause a massive sensation in the field of microbiology, and Jon could use the opportunity to become acquainted with giants such as John Robert Vane, John E. Sulston, and Niels Kaj Jerne, all Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine laureates from Oxford and Cambridge.

After gaining a certain degree of fame, he would ask those giants for help and, one or two years before graduating from university, make an exceptional admission to Harvard or MIT for postgraduate study.

For his master's research project, Jon would choose to isolate and culture a SARS virus strain during the early outbreak of SARS in China, reveal the pathogenic mechanism of SARS virus, and find a way to develop a relevant subunit vaccine as quickly as possible.

During his doctoral studies, he would shift his focus to cancer, researching methods of treating cancer through negative immune regulation...

Before graduating with his doctorate, barring any surprises, he could publish three to five classic papers in the world's most authoritative journals, such as Nature, The Lancet, and the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

With such outstanding achievements, he could quite easily become a professor at Harvard or MIT after earning his doctorate.

Afterward, he would continue researching in these areas. If everything in his research went smoothly, then with his contributions across multiple fields of microbiology and immunology, he could probably receive the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine sometime between 2015 and 2020.

After achieving fame and success, he could find an opportunity to go to China, become a visiting professor at Tsinghua or Peking University, obtain Chinese citizenship, and begin striving for Socialist Modernization for the rest of his life!

The plan was beautiful, but first he had to face reality.

He first had to get into one of Britain's top secondary schools... To be honest, Eton College was not the best choice. It was, after all, a traditional aristocratic school. Though it had begun admitting students from ordinary backgrounds in recent years, its requirements were extremely demanding.

However, it had been his father Eric's idea. In Eric's eyes, entering an aristocratic school like Eton College could help Jon get to know many future important figures and build an impressive network in advance.

To be honest, Eric's idea was correct.

If his memory was right, Prince William and Prince Harry, both sons of Prince Charles and Princess Diana, would enter Eton College in the coming years. William, the royal family's direct heir, should even be in the same year as Jon.

Being classmates with the future King of England? That seemed rather interesting.

But it was probably one of those things he would only see in his lifetime. After all, Prince William's grandmother had still possessed vigorous vitality when Jon transmigrated in his previous life. She was a figure comparable to a certain great man!

As Jon idly mulled over these thoughts, he suddenly heard the mailbox outside click.

"Oh... God... They're here!" Eric's face turned pale as he stammered.

"I'll get the mail!"

Jon opened the yard gate. The mailbox bore an image of three golden lions, their feet planted on a dead Brown Bear... Eric had pasted it there over half a year ago to celebrate some major event.

A Tabby cat was also standing beside the mailbox, staring fixedly at the gate of 86 Eastleigh Road.

"Get lost!" Jon kicked the stray cat away, then took a stack of letters from the mailbox.

He read the letters as he headed back inside, where Eric and Judy hurriedly gathered around him.

The first letter was a gas bill.

The second was a postcard from Aunt Alia to Judy.

The third was for him. Jon slowly tore open the envelope:

"Dear Mr. Hart:

We are pleased to inform you that, after discussion, we unanimously believe that you possess sufficient talent and qualifications to study at Eton College, becoming one of Eton College's 247 new students in 1992.

Yours faithfully,

Tony Riddle, Headmaster of Eton College"

"Oh, God!" Even Jon could not help letting out a sigh of relief.

"Well?" Eric and Judy asked impatiently.

"I was accepted!" He smiled and handed them the letter.

Eric and Judy took the letter and read it carefully. The expressions on their faces changed from anxiety to surprise, then finally to wild joy.

"Jon... darling, I knew you could do it!" Judy hugged her son, then kissed his face hard several times.

"I'll tell all my colleagues. I'll tell them how outstanding my son is..." Eric roared with joy in the yard.

Then the couple kissed passionately in the yard without a care in the world.

It had to be said that for a student not born into the aristocracy to receive an invitation from a prestigious school like Eton was an immense honor.

Especially amid Britain's atmosphere of "Happy Education."

During the six years Jon had spent in primary school in this life, not a single teacher had ever asked him about his studies... The teachers only cared about one thing: "Are you happy at school?"

Almost every student grew up in this "happy" atmosphere.

Only a handful were exceptions.

For example, there was a girl in his year named Susan, whose father was an extremely wealthy banker in Southampton City. Every afternoon after school ended at three, while the other students happily took part in extracurricular activities, Susan would reluctantly be picked up at once in her father's Rolls-Royce.

According to Susan, her father forced her to study piano and dance every day. He had also hired three private tutors to force her to study numerous subjects and assigned her endless homework.

All the students deeply sympathized with Susan's plight...

News arrived a week ago that eleven-year-old Susan had scored above ninety-five on every SATs paper and was immediately admitted to St Paul's Girls' School, London.

The classmates who had sympathized with Susan could only go to local public secondary schools in Southampton and continue enjoying their "Happy Education."

British education emphasized "Happy Education" in teaching, yet it showed absolutely no mercy when it came to eliminating students.

The SATs, the National Primary School Leaving Examination, were for eleven-year-old primary school graduates. In most years, the pass rate was only 30 to 50 percent. The results of this examination and the recommendation letters determined what level of secondary school eleven-year-old graduates could attend, and even determined their future fate.

For secondary schools, the gap between prestigious schools and ordinary schools was enormous...

Famous universities such as Cambridge and Oxford simply did not recognize transcripts from ordinary public secondary schools, much less spare a glance at recommendation letters written by their Headmasters. No matter how good your grades were, it was difficult to gain their recognition. Meanwhile, at prestigious schools like Eton College and St Paul's Girls' School, as long as graduates did not perform too poorly in the A-Level examinations, nearly half could easily get into Cambridge and Oxford, while the rest would be headed overseas to study...

Seeing his parents celebrating in wild delight, a smile could not help appearing on Jon's face as well.

The initial goal of his planned route had been achieved. He had basically already set one foot into Cambridge and Oxford...

He even began imagining his future self celebrating successful experiments in the laboratory, publishing papers in core journals, and even stepping onto the Nobel Prize stage...

The only regret was that Eton College was a boys' school. Over the next seven years, he would probably find it difficult to meet girls his own age.

Lost in wild thoughts, Jon swept his gaze toward the final letter.

To Mr. Jon Hart, pacing in the yard at 86 Eastleigh Road, Southampton City, Hampshire.

The envelope was made of thick Parchment, and the address had been written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

With trembling hands, Jon turned the envelope over. There was a wax seal on it, bearing a shield-shaped crest. Around a large capital "H" were a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.

"Holy shit!" Jon could not help cursing aloud in Chinese.

At that moment, it felt as though a thousand alpacas were stampeding through his heart.