No naughty thoughts

Although Eastern Guangdong's Gaokao format had undergone some adjustments in 2007, it was still a 3+2 system overall. Each subject was worth 150 points, for a total of 750.

Even the admission score brackets were brutally straightforward:

Above 550, you could get into a first-tier university.

Above 600, you could get into a Project 985 university, with practically your pick of Project 211 schools.

Above 650, you were knocking on heaven's door and could take a shot at the top two: Tsinghua and Peking Universities.

At around 700, you could choose any university and any major in the country.

Chen Zhu's score of 654 on the First Mock Exam had catapulted him from "South China University of Technology as a safe bet, SYSU as a stretch" to having a shot at Peking University.

No wonder Huang Bohan looked as if he had accidentally swallowed a mouthful of shit and couldn't accept it. What had been a small gap of a dozen points between the two buddies had now become an entire tier.

Huang Bohan, who had been all smiles while handing out the English papers, now felt as if a rock were pressing down on his chest. "Let me see your Chinese paper," he said sullenly to Chen Zhu.

Smiles never really disappeared; they just moved to someone else's face. Still, Chen Zhu couldn't bear to rub it in any further and obediently handed over his paper. "Here you go."

He was just about to offer his buddy a little more comfort when their homeroom teacher, Yin Yanqiu, finished distributing the papers and came clicking over in her low heels. She rapped her knuckles on his desk. "Come to the office with me."

Chen Zhu wasn't surprised. An improvement that far beyond the norm certainly warranted a few questions.

The office was bustling. A student stood in front of almost every teacher's desk, probably because they had underperformed on the First Mock Exam.

Being called in for a talk actually meant a student could still be saved. After all, these talks cost the teachers their own time and energy.

If a student scored zero and the teacher didn't say a word, that generally meant they had given up on them.

Yin Yanqiu sat down, leisurely took a couple of sips of dried tangerine peel tea from her insulated mug, then unhurriedly tidied her hair.

Chen Zhu stood at the corner of her desk. These experienced, middle-aged teachers not only knew how to look after their health, but were also thoroughly accustomed to treating students as invisible.

Only after finishing her entire routine did Yin Yanqiu clear her throat. "Chen Zhu, your Chinese score improved tremendously this time. Several of the Chinese teachers in your grade found it unbelievable, but none of us know what brought it about."

At that, she suddenly chuckled. "Luckily, it was Chinese. If it had been math, physics, or chemistry, we really might have thought you'd cheated."

Chen Zhu pressed his lips together. "I didn't cheat, ma'am."

Sure, I've been reborn, but all the knowledge in my head is stuff I accumulated myself. How could that count as cheating?

"Of course I know that!"

Unexpectedly, Yin Yanqiu seemed to have even more faith in him than he did himself. "I've been your homeroom teacher for three years. Don't you think I know what sort of person you are?" she said firmly. "I just wanted to ask whether you have any good methods for improving in Chinese that you could share with your classmates at the Mobilization Rally."

"What?"

Chen Zhu felt as if her words had conveyed several different things at once, and he hadn't quite caught up.

"Oh, what I mean is..."

Yin Yanqiu raised her insulated mug for another sip, then said comfortably, "The Mobilization Rally is next Sunday. The school plans to combine it with the First Mock Exam review meeting. I'd like you to give a speech, mainly about how you improved in Chinese."

Chen Zhu paused. "Don't you have to be in the top ten of the grade to go onstage and share study tips?"

His grades used to place him around twentieth in the grade. That wasn't bad, but he had never been in line to stand in front of everyone and tell them how it was done.

Without saying anything, Yin Yanqiu handed him the First Mock Exam rankings.

Chen Zhu: total score, 654; class rank, 4th; grade rank, 8th.

First in their class was the class monitor, Deng Qian, a small, skinny girl.

Deng Qian could actually have received guaranteed admission to Tsinghua and Peking Universities. She had even passed both schools' assessments, but wasn't particularly happy with the majors offered, so she had turned them down and decided to take the exam herself.

As he remembered it, she had ended up at Tsinghua University.

Second in the class was their academic representative, Kang Liangsong. Third was Song Shiwei, and fourth was him.

Chen Zhu also wanted to check Huang Bohan's rank, but the guy was probably outside the top fifteen in their class. In any case, he didn't spot his name at a glance.

Who would've thought I'd get to be a campus celebrity just before graduation?

That was what went through Chen Zhu's mind.

At an ordinary high school, there were a few criteria for being a "campus celebrity":

One was to have exceptionally, exceptionally good grades-so good that every teacher and student in the school knew you. Only those few academic gods who regularly went onstage to share study tips could manage that.

Another was to come from a very rich family, play an instrument or two, or sing really well... If you broadened the definition a little, Li Jianming probably counted too.

After all, the whole school knew how relentlessly he pestered Song Shiwei.

So being a campus celebrity didn't mean you were necessarily destined for success. It just meant you had some widely known distinguishing trait during high school.

Seeing Chen Zhu remain silent, Yin Yanqiu, who believed she understood "this quiet, well-behaved boy" very well, assumed he was nervous about going onstage. She reassured him gently, "Don't put any pressure on yourself. You'll just be sharing your study experiences with your classmates."

Chen Zhu gave his homeroom teacher a puzzled look. You're underestimating me a little here. I've given plenty of presentations at province-wide industry standards conferences. What pressure could I possibly feel about shooting my mouth off in front of a bunch of high school students?

That was the main reason Yin Yanqiu had called him over. Once she had finished, she was ready to send him back to the classroom.

But just as Chen Zhu reached the office door, he heard Yin Yanqiu call from behind him, "Wait..."

Chen Zhu turned around.

"Since you managed to improve so much in Chinese, is there any chance your English..."

Her usually serious, dignified face suddenly showed excitement, even the sort of eager anticipation that made her look ready to rub her hands together like a fly. Chen Zhu understood her immediately.

"Ms. Yin, the time I have left is only enough to improve my Chinese and maintain my scores in math, physics, and chemistry."

Chen Zhu answered honestly.

If he had passed the recruitment exam for a foreign affairs department back then, the working environment might have helped him improve both his Chinese and his English.

As things stood, apart from the little English knowledge still left in his head, the only thing he was fairly familiar with was the four-letter phrase "cpdd"-looking for a partner, message me.

Back in the classroom, Chen Zhu once again felt everyone's burning gazes on him.

Unlike the last time, when he had stood up for Song Shiwei, their eyes now held something more complicated. After all, everything in the advanced class revolved around grades.

It was a little like a sect tournament in a fantasy novel: a disciple who had only been in the Golden Core Realm suddenly erupted in power and defeated several Nascent Soul Ancestors, overturning the established rankings.

"Where's my Chinese paper?"

After sitting down, Chen Zhu planned to review the questions he had got wrong in each subject, only to discover that his Chinese paper had vanished from his desk. Huang Bohan didn't have it either.

Huang Bohan pursed his lips toward the row in front, indicating that a classmate there had it.

"Liu Han, give me my paper back."

Chen Zhu tapped the girl in front of him with his index finger, deliberately avoiding the two narrow straps plainly visible across her back.

Liu Han turned around. She was the kind of girl who paid no attention to her appearance or figure and devoted herself entirely to studying. She had almost always placed in the class's top five before, but Chen Zhu's sudden rise had knocked her straight out this time.

"I just looked over your paper. I don't think some of your poetry interpretations were accurate. You shouldn't have got such a high score."

Liu Han's face was full of indignation.

These top students with excellent grades spoke very directly, without the slightest notion of tact.

Chen Zhu didn't take it personally. He knew he had knocked her down the rankings, and she was having trouble accepting it. He merely shrugged. "You're not the author. How do you know my interpretation is wrong?"

Liu Han faltered, then immediately said, "If it doesn't match the reference answer, it's wrong."

Chen Zhu smiled. "Chinese isn't like math, where one is one and two is two. There shouldn't be exact answers in Chinese. Otherwise, why would people say there are a thousand Hamlets in a thousand readers' eyes?"

"But..."

Liu Han still wanted to argue.

Chen Zhu wasn't in the mood for an argument. He just wanted to get rid of her, so he took out a sheet of scrap paper. "I know you're upset that I beat you in Chinese, but we can't change the exam results. Why don't we have a little private showdown instead?"

"What kind of showdown?"

Liu Han was a little curious.

"I'll write down just three idioms. If you can fill them in without any trouble, I'll admit you're better than me."

Chen Zhu spoke calmly.

"Really?"

Given all the general knowledge she had accumulated, Liu Han didn't think there could possibly be an idiom she didn't know, so she agreed. "Then hurry up and write them."

Chen Zhu scribbled a few characters on the scrap paper. Liu Han took one look, blushed, and immediately turned back around, leaving him alone.

Chen Zhu couldn't help chuckling. "I really am a success guru. Three sentences are all I need to get a woman to hand me 1.8 million..."

"What the hell did you write?"

Huang Bohan, who had been brooding, was now curious too. He snatched up the scrap paper and saw:

Wield a □□ and a rod;

□□ pressing tight;

An empty hole □□.

"Fuck!"

Huang Bohan instantly blushed too. "You're a pervert, aren't you?" he spat.

"How am I a pervert?"

Chen Zhu felt terribly wronged. "'Wield a spear and a rod,' meaning veiled insults; 'press forward step by step,' meaning relentless pressure; and 'wind comes from an empty hole,' meaning a rumor has some basis-all three are dictionary idioms. You're the ones with dirty minds, and you're blaming me for being indecent?"

Huang Bohan paused. That did seem true. So why had his first thought been... been...

"No naughty thoughts, buddy."

Chen Zhu delivered the warning with a beaming smile.

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(End of chapter)