Chapter 25: Stop Deducting Points, There Won’t Be Any Left…

The morning reading session was already halfway through when Mr. Liang finally arrived, unhurried as always. He had come to deliver Chinese recitation materials to Chen Shian.

Just like the rest of the class, Mr. Liang was genuinely surprised when he saw Chen Shian with his hair trimmed and dressed in the school uniform.

“Shian? I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“Mr. Liang, I should be following the rules now, right?”

“Yes, yes, the uniform suits you well.” Mr. Liang said as he handed over the materials. “This is the essential recitation material for Chinese over the three years of high school. I was busy yesterday and forgot to print a copy for you. Keep this well. Just focus on memorizing what’s in here during your daily studies.”

Though they were only in their second year, the curriculum had already far surpassed the standard pace. No new material would be taught in the third year— the whole year would be devoted to review.

“Thank you, Mr. Liang.” Chen Shian accepted the documents this time, unlike earlier when he had declined. After all, the previous copy had belonged to Lin Mengqiu; this one was his, and whether to use it or not was up to him.

In his view, whether one “seeks the distant when the truth is near,” or “chooses the difficult when the task is easy,” any achievement thus gained is just a castle in the air—only by “acting from the heart and practicing with one’s own hands” can the foundation truly be laid.

Mr. Liang Huiyang, their Chinese teacher, hadn’t just brought recitation materials. He lifted a heavy eco-bag and continued, “These are junior high textbooks I borrowed from some colleagues. Time was tight, so I could only get the first-year books for now, but all subjects are covered. For English, I even got some elementary school textbooks for you. For now, just study these basics. If you don’t understand something, ask me or your classmates.”

Chen Shian had been wondering where to borrow junior high textbooks and hadn’t expected Mr. Liang to be so efficient. Not only had he borrowed them back already, but they were annotated and highlighted by the teachers themselves. Even with just the first-year books, there was enough to get started.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Liang. I’ll take good care of them and won’t damage anything.”

“That’s not important. What matters is that you study hard!”

“Of course.”

Having tested Chen Shian the previous day, Mr. Liang knew better than anyone just how weak his foundation was. But as a teacher, there was little more he could do—he had his own workload, as did the other teachers and classmates. All he could do was help borrow books; the rest was up to Chen Shian’s self-study.

“I’ve already informed the other subject teachers. If you can’t keep up in class, that’s fine—just concentrate on your own work, as long as you’re learning.”

“Understood, Mr. Liang.”

But how could he truly be at ease? Mr. Liang sighed. After so many years teaching the honors class, he had never been so troubled by a student’s poor foundation.

After finishing with Chen Shian, Mr. Liang finally noticed that the previously robust reading voices had faded. The students were peeking over their books, eyes wide and ears pricked, eavesdropping on their conversation with obvious curiosity.

“What are you all doing? Where are your reading voices?”

With a sharp rebuke, the classroom was once again filled with hurried recitations.

Throughout the exchange, Lin Mengqiu had remained silent, but she couldn’t help glancing at Chen Shian’s desk.

There sat “Seventh Grade Chinese, Semester One,” “Seventh Grade Mathematics, Semester One,” “Third Grade English”—textbook covers that were both familiar and distant, utterly out of place in this high school classroom. Lin Mengqiu’s eyelids twitched at the sight, and her usually unchanging expression betrayed a mix of emotions—two parts pity, three parts amusement, five parts exasperation.

Dad, what kind of deskmate have you arranged for me?

“Were you just laughing at me?”

The unexpected question from beside her startled Lin Mengqiu out of her swirling thoughts, and she instantly returned to her impassive expression.

“No.”

Lin Mengqiu was inwardly shocked. She hadn’t expected him to be so perceptive—he had even noticed the faintest trace of amusement hidden deep in her eyes.

“Oh—”

Chen Shian didn’t challenge her reply, but his deliberately drawn-out tone made her feel uneasy all over. —Minus one point for him.

“Are you the top student in science?” Chen Shian shifted the subject.

“Yes.”

“What score does it take to be first?”

Lin Mengqiu turned to look at him. From his gaze, she could tell he wasn’t just asking out of idle curiosity; it was as if he were measuring the width of a stream, wondering if he could leap across—brimming with eagerness.

What did he mean by that? Was someone still patching up their primary and middle school basics really thinking of becoming the top science student at the city’s elite high school?

Overestimating oneself. —Minus another point.

“Over seven hundred points.”

The most recent exam had been the monthly test after summer make-up classes—the same one Chen Shian had taken as his placement test the day before. Lin Mengqiu had scored a perfect mark in mathematics— the only one in her grade. Her total across all subjects was 706, a full fifteen points ahead of second place.

Lin Mengqiu’s “over seven hundred” was actually a conservative estimate. Scoring seven hundred might not be enough to surpass her, but it would almost always be good for second place.

Seven hundred points! Anyone would be intimidated by such a number, wouldn’t they?

But Chen Shian showed no reaction to the “seven hundred”—not because he was unfazed, but simply because he had no concept of it.

Yet in Lin Mengqiu’s eyes, his calm expression was pure provocation. There he was again, dragging out that meaningful “Oh—”!

No sense of his own limits. —Minus one point!

Aiming too high. —Minus one point!

Sardonic. —Minus one more point!

While Chen Shian was still pondering what it would take to score seven hundred, his quiet deskmate was busily docking points from him in her mind.

The bell rang, ending the morning reading session. The “March of the Athletes” began to play—it was time for morning exercises.

The schedule for morning exercises shifted with the seasons. In hot weather, they followed the reading class; in cold weather, they came after the second period as a break.

“Time to gather up!” called out Xu Zihan, the sports rep, though he himself stayed at his desk, laughing with his friends. The rest of the class took their time as well, joking and lingering before slowly making their way out.

Chen Shian closed his textbook, stood up, and pushed his chair neatly under the desk.

“Where does our class assemble?” he asked Lin Mengqiu, who was still at her desk.

“In the middle of the field. Just follow everyone else.” Lin Mengqiu didn’t even look up. She disliked morning exercises and, though usually efficient in her actions, when it came to things she didn’t enjoy, she would procrastinate a bit. Unlike her classmates, who wasted time playing around, she used reading and problem-solving as psychological comfort for her own procrastination.

Chen Shian, however, never procrastinated. In essence, there’s a difference between “dragging one’s feet” and “moving calmly.” He walked slowly, spoke slowly, but when something needed to be done, he did it right away.

He left his seat and stepped out into the corridor.

Most of the boys in the class had already gathered there.

When Chen Shian sat next to Lin Mengqiu, no one dared speak to him because of her presence. Now that he was outside, the boys swarmed over like a pack of monkeys spotting a banana, curiosity and gossip in their voices.

“Daoist! Daoist, were you really living on a mountain as a Daoist priest?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know any spells?”

“A few small tricks.”

“Show us something!”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate right now.”

Everyone was a child of the new era; no one really took his words at face value, and most of their questions were half in jest. But when they saw how Chen Shian was never embarrassed or annoyed, always friendly and approachable, they quickly realized he was easy to get along with.

Boys make friends this way—it’s not about how impressive you are, but whether you’re a good mate. Otherwise, why would you hang out with someone you complain about all day, yet still play games together every night?

Chen Shian’s background intrigued them. At first, many didn’t believe he was a real Daoist priest, and some even looked up professional questions online to test him. But whether it was doctrine, scriptures, or the details of cultivation, he answered everything fluently, and he even had an authentic Daoist identification card. Eventually, they had to admit he was genuine.

“Amazing! Incredible!”

“So what if you’re classmates with an internet celebrity? I’m classmates with a Daoist priest!”

“Brother An, I saw Mr. Liang give you a bunch of books just now. What are they?”

Chen Shian saw no shame in lacking a formal academic background and answered honestly, “Just some junior high textbooks. I need to catch up on the basics.”

“Huh? Junior high textbooks?”

“Brother An, did you… never go to school before? Always cultivating in the mountains?”

“That’s correct.”

After he spoke, there was a brief silence, then the group grew even more excited, the atmosphere more charged than before—

“Amazing! Amazing!!”

“The nine-year compulsory education net is so tight, and Brother An managed to slip through—legendary!”

“Damn! How did you do it, Brother An? I skipped class once in junior high and my mom nearly killed me!”

“Zihan, how come your mom was still spanking you in junior high? Last time, she messaged our group saying we were corrupting you, but it turns out you’re corrupting us!”

“As if! Didn’t your mom ever hit you, Kunkun?”

“My mom only hit me once—didn’t knock me out, though.”

“Damn! Are you a tadpole that slipped through the net?”

“Brother An, will you take disciples? I want to cultivate too and skip out on studying!”

Chen Shian was at a loss for words listening to their banter. Was school life really this suffocating nowadays?

After all these years, he still felt out of place among these “monkeys.”

Just then, Lin Mengqiu, who had dawdled in the classroom, finally emerged.

She was taller than Wen Zhixia—about one meter sixty-seven, though not as curvaceous, and thus her uniform lacked the same full, rounded lines. What stood out most were her legs—so long and perfectly proportioned that even the fabric gathered in small folds at her ankles, revealing a sliver of delicate, pale skin when she walked. Her steps were quiet, and the curve of her waist as she turned resembled the gentle brushwork of willow branches swaying in an ink painting.

Chen Shian, caught up in the boys’ chatter, didn’t notice her, but Lin Mengqiu spotted him immediately among the crowd.

Hmph, mixing with that bunch of idiots… Minus another point!

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