Chapter 074 Exam Results

The slanting, gentle sunlight of early morning cast a warm glow over the campus. In the flowerbeds, many blossoms had already faded, their fragrance gone, and even the grass along the edges of the paths had begun to turn a pale yellow. All of it signaled that autumn was deepening, and with it, the college entrance examination—a wild beast, a raging flood—drew ever closer.

After taking three days off, Lin Yu returned home to discuss his idea of opening a milk tea shop with his mother. He also spoke obliquely with his father about Zhang Yang, and, after working out a few strategies, he finally returned to Bincheng No. 1 High School, accompanied by Qi Yue.

Knowing that today was the day the results of the midterm exams would be posted, Lin Yu felt an inexplicable nervousness settle in his heart as he sat down in the classroom. So much so that when Tao Bo, the “little brother-in-law,” greeted him, Lin Yu only glanced back indifferently and didn’t ask after Zhang Zhilong.

“Lin Yu, I’m nervous,” his seatmate, the chubby Wang Libo, suddenly murmured just before the last self-study class of the afternoon.

Lin Yu chuckled. “What’s there to be nervous about?” He knew that although Wang Libo usually ranked around twentieth in the class, his effort was easily in the top three—it hadn’t been easy for him.

Wang Libo leaned in with a conspiratorial air. “Because I might be the dark horse this time! As dark as my hair, at least!”

“Oh? Did it go that well?” Lin Yu asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. The wounds on his body had mostly scabbed over, and the pain had lessened a great deal; he spoke easily now.

“Yeah, you weren’t here these past few days, so you don’t know. The teachers went over the exams in class—everyone’s got a good sense of their scores. After comparing, I think I might make it into the top ten.” Under the desk, Wang Libo clenched his fist in excitement.

He had often been mocked for being all hard work and no results, so he’d been harboring a fierce desire to break through, to prove himself with a spectacular performance.

“If you make the top ten, that’s really impressive. Go for it.” Lin Yu knew that if his desk mate really did break into the top ten, he’d move up several exam rooms next time—a remarkable achievement.

In the third year, every exam room was its own little world. For example, the first and second rooms of the science and liberal arts classes each had only a handful of people, and the rankings rarely fluctuated by more than ten percent.

These top seeds gradually established their dominance and aura with each exam, their positions nearly unshakeable. Those who ranked around tenth would be assigned to the third or fourth rooms. While these students weren’t as formidable as those in the top rooms, they were the most capable of challenging for the summit. Their strength was undeniable, but their problem was often carelessness or a lack of meticulousness during exams.

If chubby Wang Libo could leap from twentieth to the top ten, it would be a feat indeed—a step into the realm of true contenders, and a huge boost to his confidence.

Soon, Lin Yu noticed that during the break before the last self-study period, behind piles of books half a meter high, the top seeds, the secondary contenders, and even those who “hunted wolves” in the class had all set aside their work, whispering with those around them, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their homeroom teacher, He Jing.

Even Yang Zhilin, who seemed invincible and peerless, couldn’t help herself—she put down the English materials she was reading and started chatting with Qi Yue about their grades.

“Zhilin, how did it go this time? Did you break the 700 mark? I remember you got 699 last time—what a pity!” Qi Yue asked with sudden curiosity.

Yang Zhilin propped her chin on her left hand, considered for a moment, and then replied with a touch of pride, “This time, everything went perfectly. I think I’ll get around 710.”

“Wow! That would break the record for the highest score ever in the liberal arts class at No. 1 High in the third year!” Qi Yue beamed, as if she herself had achieved the feat.

“It’s possible,” Yang Zhilin answered with a gentle smile.

Yang Zhilin wasn’t the only focus of Class Seven. Wang Keming, who had recently been rejected after confessing to her, was also the center of attention. Even the class committee member, Nie Xiaona—who consistently ranked third to fifth in the class—turned to ask him, “Deputy class monitor, how about you? After the camphor leaf incident, you must be in a great mood—did you perform above your usual level and finally surpass Zhilin for first place?”

Wang Keming felt a rush of satisfaction at her words; lately, everyone in the third year had been gossiping about Yang Zhilin crying over him, saying he picked the wrong time to confess, and that if he’d waited until college, he might have succeeded.

He smiled modestly. “Ah, a defeated general need not speak of valor. But I did pretty well this time—probably over 660. Still, it’s tough to beat Zhilin! She’s like Ximen Chuixue, never giving anyone a chance.”

“You always light up when you talk about Zhilin!” Nie Xiaona teased, smiling. She was a quiet sort of girl, usually blushing when she spoke to boys, but after two years of sitting in front of Wang Keming, she felt comfortable with him.

About ten seconds later, after she’d turned back around, Nie Xiaona glanced back over her shoulder and smiled. “Deputy class monitor, I estimated my score, and it’s over 660 as well! Looks like it’ll be a close race for second place between us!”

He laughed confidently. “I don’t have much hope for first place, but I do have a fair shot at second, class committee member.”

Watching her words land, he noticed Nie Xiaona’s backward glance had a subtle charm. If not for Yang Zhilin’s existence, he might have been drawn to her. But in matters of the heart, unlike exams, there’s never a second place. So Wang Keming didn’t continue the conversation, but lowered his head to tally his estimated scores for each subject.

Seeing his reaction, Nie Xiaona felt a faint pang. She’d thought that after Yang Zhilin rejected him, his attention would shift to her. But she had no qualms about the past, didn’t care that he had once cared deeply for someone else, or whether she would ever bask in a moment of clarity and happiness with him.

She simply believed: In life, everyone should have at least one moment when they forget themselves for someone else. Not for an outcome, not for companionship, not for having owned, not even for being loved in return, but simply to have met that person in the most beautiful years of one’s life.

As the clear, melodious bell rang, He Jing, the homeroom teacher of Class Seven, appeared at the classroom door with a photocopied sheet of grades in hand.

As the long-awaited He Jing stepped onto the podium, every student’s heart leapt into their throat. Even Lin Yu was no exception—this was the first time he truly cared about his own grades, and his heart beat with excitement.