When Ye Chu returned to the classroom, Wu You immediately came over. "Ye Chu, those monsters didn't do anything to you, did they?"
Lu Rui came over too, looking worried. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"No." Ye Chu shook his head. "Next time, you could try singing 'Free Flying' to the music teacher."
Wu You and Lu Rui: "???"
"Oh, right." Wu You picked up a sheet of paper from the desk. "The results are out."
Ye Chu froze. "What?" He took the score sheet and saw his name, a string of traditional Chinese characters, on the second line. The first line belonged to Dad... Pei Yanchuan.
Pei Yanchuan had scored 721, and Ye Chu had scored 655.
Ye Chu: ... Sure enough, taking the college entrance exam was better left to students actually in their final year of high school.
Wu You, in third place, had scored considerably lower. With Ye Chu's help, she had managed a 550.
Further down, the gaps between scores grew smaller. There were sixty people across the two classes, and five had failed to meet the cutoff. Fortunately, none of those five belonged to 12789. Ye Chu checked Su Fengzi's score: 501. He had barely scraped through.
"After the invigilator took you away, we cleaned up the exam room and put the classroom seats back. By the time we finished, the results were already out. The teaching at this school might be garbage, but they sure mark papers quickly and accurately." Lu Rui braced her hands on Ye Chu's desk and said with a headache, "How did Feng Zi score even worse than me? He looks pretty smart..."
Ye Chu smiled. "That's normal. Everyone has different strengths, after all."
Meanwhile...
Su Fengzi let out a long breath after seeing his score and slumped in his chair. He feared neither heaven nor earth. There were only three things he feared in this life: bugs, the dark, and stark white score sheets.
Su Fengzi grabbed Pei Yanchuan's hand. "Little Tiger, you really saved me this time."
Pei Yanchuan waved a hand. "Ah, it was nothing." He had spent as many years tossing little paper balls as he had being a student. He had long since mastered the art.
After a whole day of exams, they still had Chinese class during evening study. There was no helping it. High school was just that cruel.
The old man Mediterranean came in carrying a stack of paper. "Class, this period will be a writing lesson. Your exam results show that your essay-writing skills aren't very strong. We need to improve them."
Mediterranean bobbed his head and twisted his fat body as he stepped down from the podium. His pallid fingers picked up sheets of essay paper and placed them on the students' desks.
As he handed out the paper, he said, "The topic this time is 'My Great Chinese Teacher.' I'll watch as you write. If I'm not satisfied, I'll tear it up and make you rewrite it."
He bared two pairs of fangs as he spoke. "You can only return to the dorms to sleep once you've handed in your essay."
Pei Yanchuan frowned. A fat, greasy man with a bald crown really shouldn't use that cutesy tone. It was downright nauseating.
While he cursed inwardly, the Chinese teacher reached him and gently placed a sheet on his desk. When he reached Su Fengzi's desk, he slammed the paper down in front of him with a smack.
Su Fengzi: "..."
Why were they playing favorites?! Just because he was in first place and I was currently dead last?!
Pei Yanchuan picked up his pen. Just as he was about to start writing on the greasy sheet, he heard Zhang Lian cough softly from diagonally ahead.
Pei Yanchuan looked up and saw Comrade Zhang Jinlian signaling frantically at the two of them with her eyes. "Don't write, don't write." She held a pen and was scribbling all over her paper.
While the Chinese teacher's head was turned, Pei Yanchuan mouthed, "Why?"
"You'll get brainwashed. Brainwashed." Seeing that the Chinese teacher was about to turn back, Zhang Jinlian immediately faced forward and continued scribbling on her paper with the pen.
Writing the essay would brainwash him? Then why not simply refuse to write?
Pei Yanchuan was just about to toss his pen aside when Mediterranean suddenly appeared behind him without a single footstep, like a drifting, wandering spirit. He said eerily, "Classmate Dad, why aren't you writing?"
"..." After several seconds of silence, Pei Yanchuan said, "Sir, I can't read or write."
Su Fengzi almost burst out laughing with a snort. Someone who could score 721 on an exam claiming he couldn't read or write? Only an idiot would believe that. Mediterranean clearly thought so too. He gave Pei Yanchuan a cold glance. Having been fooled once, he certainly wouldn't fall for it again. "I don't believe you. Hurry up and write, or you won't be allowed back to the dorms."
Pei Yanchuan had no choice but to pick up his pen again. He studied the other students' reactions. Many had already filled more than half their essay paper with messy handwriting. Their eyes were slowly turning red, their gazes growing almost fanatical, as though something had possessed them.
"Get writing," the Chinese teacher said expressionlessly. "You too, Classmate Auntie Su."
Su Fengzi: ... Yes, but actually, I'm Dalang.
"Sir." Like a good student, Pei Yanchuan raised his hand. "What kind of essay would satisfy you?"
"One that praises me, of course," Mediterranean answered immediately, his face suddenly becoming much more animated. "You must praise me, glorify me, and make everyone who reads this essay exclaim in amazement at me!"
Pei Yanchuan twirled his pen and poked the essay paper with it. "But what if I don't know what you've done? You know I've only been here for two days, sir."
"I can do anything." Mediterranean bent down, completely unconcerned by how ridiculous his boast sounded. "Whatever you write, I can do it."
"All right, got it." Pei Yanchuan pressed his lips together. "Just to confirm, the important thing is to make people [exclaim in amazement], right?"
Mediterranean nodded.
Pei Yanchuan asked another question. "Is there a length requirement?"
Mediterranean thought for a moment. "At least eight hundred characters."
Pei Yanchuan nodded and rolled up his sleeves, looking ready to get down to business. "Then I'll write eight hundred characters first to warm up."
Seeing that he was about to start writing, Zhang Lian grew anxious. "Don't-mmph."
Mediterranean slammed his hand hard against the desk, his expression vicious. "Classmate Zhang Jinlian, don't disturb other people while they're writing."
Zhang Lian was still trying to stop Pei Yanchuan. "Don't." She turned to Su Fengzi, who sat behind Pei Yanchuan. "Stop him."
Su Fengzi glanced at Pei Yanchuan's essay paper and said hesitantly, "Um... maybe just leave him alone."
Zhang Lian: ...???
Su Fengzi glanced at the essay paper again and repeated, "Leave him alone. Let him do his thing." This time, his tone was much more certain.
Zhang Lian: ...??!!
Pei Yanchuan was wholly absorbed in writing his essay and didn't notice the conversation between the other two. His pen never stopped moving. In the time it took them to exchange a few sentences, he had already finished the first paragraph.
[My Chinese teacher is a very great Chinese teacher. Why do I say my Chinese teacher is great? To explain that, we must start with the great things he has done...
He has done many great things. He can do anything. Being able to do anything means doing things other people wouldn't dare to do. For example, he dares to eat shit...
That's right. Eating shit is such a great thing to do. My great Chinese teacher will definitely do it. After all, he can do absolutely anything...]
Su Fengzi: ... How should I put this? Someone writing an essay in this state of mind probably couldn't be successfully brainwashed.
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