Chapter 124: Scores (Request Subscription!)

When the topic of college entrance exam scores came up, Li Ran couldn’t help asking, since Li Heng and Zhang Zhiyong looked utterly unfazed: “Hey, this is the biggest thing in your lives so far—how can you act like you don’t care at all?”

Zhang Zhiyong gulped down a bowl of cold tea, then smirked: “As long as I get into some university, I’m good. Doesn’t matter which one—I’m completely uninterested.”

Li Ran turned to Li Heng: “What about you? Where do you want to go most?”

Li Heng looked just as indifferent: “Anywhere’s fine.”

Li Ran thought for a moment, envious: “Yeah, I guess—with your talent and reputation, you could get into any university in the country. It doesn’t really matter where you go; your diploma’s just a decoration. No one can dim your light.”

As they chatted, the English teacher returned from her phone call, her expression uneasy, repeatedly opening her mouth to speak but hesitating as she looked at Li Heng.

Seeing this, Li Heng almost guessed the answer: “Teacher, you’re telling me I didn’t get into Peking University?”

The English teacher sighed: “One point short.”

Zhang Zhiyong shouted: “Just one point?!”

The English teacher nodded: “Mai Sui was unlucky too—two points short.”

This reminded Li Heng of the dream Mai Sui had told him in Beijing—she’d dreamed of falling two points short. He hadn’t expected such bad luck to come true.

Seeing the teacher more upset than he was, Li Heng comforted her: “It’s fine, Teacher. Fudan’s fine too. Peking, Tsinghua, Fudan, Jiaotong—they’re all top schools. Fudan’s not bad at all.”

(Note: Since Li Heng couldn’t go to Peking, and Tsinghua was too predictable, he wanted to break new ground, so he switched to Fudan. Accordingly, Xiao Han moved to Shanghai Medical University, and Mai Sui and Sun Man also switched to Fudan.)

The English teacher glanced at him, then turned to Zhang Zhiyong: “You didn’t get into Beijing Forestry University as your first choice, but Shanghai University of International Business and Economics should be a sure thing.”

Zhang Zhiyong beamed: “As long as I get into Shanghai U of International Business and Economics, I’m happy! Heng Da, we’ll be in the same city again, bro!”

Saying that, the clueless idiot slammed his soda can hard against Li Heng’s.

Li Heng smiled: “Good. Let’s keep fighting side by side.”

The English teacher ate in silence. After dinner, once they checked into the hotel, she couldn’t wait—she went straight to Li Heng’s room and told Zhang Zhiyong: “Step out. I need to speak with him.”

“Got it!” Zhang Zhiyong scampered off, making sure to shut the door behind him.

The English teacher stepped in front of him, radiating authority, and asked sharply: “You really won’t go to Peking?”

Li Heng shook his head: “Teacher, really, no need. I told you—I leave it to fate.”

The English teacher was baffled: “Song Yu is ninth in the province for liberal arts—she’s already in. Chen Zijin is in Beijing too. Aren’t you fond of them? Why not go?”

She needed a reason.

Deep down, she desperately wanted Li Heng to go to Beijing.

After a pause, Li Heng replied: “The magazine ‘Harvest’ is based in Shanghai. It’s crucial for my writing career—I might even get to meet Old Ba.”

The English teacher narrowed her eyes: “That’s really it?”

Li Heng: “That’s really it.”

The English teacher stared at him for a long, long time, then took a deep breath: “Fine. Go to Fudan. Coincidentally, Yu Shuheng teaches there too—she can keep an eye on you.”

Li Heng finally understood where his friend was: “The Yu Shuheng from the photo?”

The English teacher flicked her hair: “That’s her.”

She added: “She’s not me—she’s not ordinary. Don’t take liberties.”

Li Heng was speechless: “When have I ever been forward?”

The English teacher said nothing—only crossed her arms and stared at him without blinking.

Li Heng flushed. He’d only glanced a few times—wasn’t that just male instinct?

Why else would she be so striking?

Why else would she be so captivating?

A quick look—was that a crime?

Truly a sin! A sin!

Li Heng did a quick penance, then changed the subject: “Mai Sui’s second choice is Fudan—is that okay?”

The English teacher gave him a strange look: “What? Song Yu’s out, so now you’re eyeing Mai Sui?”

Li Heng slapped his forehead and flopped onto the bed: “Teacher, you’re unbelievable—I don’t even know how to respond. You’re always misjudging me.”

Seeing him so exasperated, the English teacher laughed, then sat down in a chair: “Honestly, I still don’t believe you’re going to Shanghai just for ‘Harvest.’”

Li Heng turned his head to look at her: “Where I go doesn’t matter, does it? Besides—”

The English teacher pressed: “Besides what?”

Li Heng sighed: “Besides, Beijing is the Chen family’s territory. Even if I went, I wouldn’t get far. Zijin won’t let me get close to Song Yu. Leaving that circle is better.”

Chen Zijin was perfect in every way—she’d given him her all. But raised in a bureaucratic family, she knew how to maneuver—her tactics were invisible, impossible to trace.

In his past life, Song Yu had twice nearly agreed to marry him—twice she’d been ready to sign the marriage certificate—only for Chen Zijin to sabotage both.

Fine, sabotage them—Song Yu’s pride and reserve made her easy to exploit.

But the problem was, Song Yu didn’t hate Chen Zijin afterward. She kept close ties with her, which confused him.

Xiao Han was completely different. She didn’t fear the Chen family’s power—she fought back fiercely, never yielding. The two women clashed until they were utterly at war.

He’d seemed close to all three women, yet his household registry remained empty—until Li Jianguo, on his deathbed, forced him to pick one and marry.

Seeing his resolve, the English teacher stopped pressing. Instead, she chatted with him about the school.

This year, Shaoshan No.1 High School performed astonishingly well: Yang Yingwen scored over 700, securing the top science rank in the province.

Song Yu ranked ninth in liberal arts; Xiao Feng ranked twenty-third. Though separated by ten places, their total scores differed by only seven points.

Chen Lijun got into Renmin University as she wished; Liu Li barely scraped in.

Zou Ai failed—eleven points short of Renmin.

As for Xiao Han, Li Heng wanted to ask—but feared revealing his true motive for choosing Shanghai.

That afternoon, the English teacher splurged—she abandoned writing letters and called her friend directly.

“Dong dong dong!”

“Dong dong dong!”

The phone rang six times before someone answered—on the other end, a pleasant voice said: “Hello.”

“Shuheng, it’s me.”

Wang Runwen introduced herself.

Yu Shuheng glanced at the receiver, sat gracefully on the sofa, and asked: “Aren’t you with him in Dujiangyan? Why are you calling now?”

Wang Runwen replied: “I’m in Yongzhou now. Tomorrow I plan to visit Liu Hou Temple.”

Yu Shuheng asked curiously: “How many essays has he written?”

Wang Runwen: “So far: ‘The Taoist Tower,’ ‘Mogao Caves,’ ‘Sunlight and Snow,’ ‘Hidden Springs in the Sands,’ and ‘Dujiangyan’—five total.”

Yu Shuheng paused: “You watched him write them?”

Wang Runwen countered: “What? Do you suspect him of faking?”

Yu Shuheng smiled elegantly: “Don’t be so protective. I was just curious.”

Wang Runwen replied coldly: “Don’t even think it.”

Yu Shuheng poured herself tea, sipped slowly, then asked: “You called because of today’s exam results?”

Wang Runwen: “He missed Peking by one point.”

Yu Shuheng: “I see.”

Wang Runwen: “But he doesn’t want to go to Peking—he wants Fudan.”

Yu Shuheng: “Why?”

Wang Runwen told her about ‘Harvest.’

Yu Shuheng listened in silence, sipping her tea.

After a while, with no reply, Wang Runwen asked: “You don’t believe him either?”

Yu Shuheng advised: “From your letters over the past six months, I’ve formed a clear picture of him. If he’s willing to let go of Song Yu, there’s another reason.

Go through the list of girls from your school who got into Shanghai. See if any match Song Yu in looks. If one does—and if she’s had contact with him—it’s almost certainly her.”

Instantly, Wang Runwen thought of Xiao Han.

After all, Song Yu and Xiao Han were known as the twin beauties of the school—Xiao Han’s appearance and aura were nearly equal to Song Yu’s. The two were evenly matched, each with her own charm.

If memory served, Xiao Han was from Qianzhen—the same hometown as him.

The moment this thought arose, Wang Runwen’s suspicions surged.

The second suspect was Mai Sui—but Li Heng had just strongly denied it.

Thinking this over, Wang Runwen said: “I’ll hang up for a moment—I need to call the school.”

After ending the call, the English teacher thought for a moment, then dialed the homeroom teacher of Class 206.

“Old Yang, you busy? I’ve got a question.”

Yang replied: “Go ahead.”

Wang Runwen asked: “Where did Xiao Han from your class get in?”

“My class? Xiao Han? You don’t even teach her—why ask?” Yang said, but still clamped the receiver between his shoulder and neck, then began searching.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll treat you and your wife to dinner.”

Xiao Han’s score was easy to find—she’d done exceptionally well. Yang said: “Her first choice was Shanghai Medical University. She scored well above the cutoff.”

Wang Runwen confirmed: “Definitely Shanghai Medical University?”

Yang: “Absolutely.”

Wang Runwen asked: “How often does Li Heng from Class 204 come to your class?”

Yang replied: “What are you implying? Is there something between Li Heng and Xiao Han?”

Teacher Yang recalled, “Not much in the past, but this semester he’s come relatively frequently—often chatting with Yang Ying and Xiao Han.”

Yang thought back: “Not often before, but this semester he came more frequently—often chatting with Yang Yingwen and Xiao Han.”

[101] “Alright, I get it. I’ll hang up.”

“Hey, hey, don’t hang up yet, I haven’t finished saying why—buzzbuzzbuzz.” Before Teacher Yang could finish, the line was filled with a busy tone, and he immediately began to grumble.

Without warning, Wang Runwen dialed again to his girlfriend’s home in Shanghai and said at once: “Your analysis was right—there really is such a person.”

Yu Shuheng only smiled slightly, showing little reaction, and said: “Why don’t you come teach in Shanghai? I’ll help you find a school.”

Wang Runwen refused: “No, maybe later.”

Then the English teacher added: “Since I already owe you a favor, let me add another—I have a student I’m close with, named Mai Sui. He missed Peking University by two points this year, unlucky guy. Keep an eye out for him.”

Hearing this, Yu Shuheng fetched paper and pen and asked: “How exactly do you write his name?”

The English teacher said: “The ‘mai’ from ‘little wheat,’ the ‘sui’ from ‘ear of grain’—Mai Sui.”

Yu Shuheng wrote it down, put down the pen, and said: “Li Heng doesn’t owe anyone a favor. Someone like him is a treasure wherever he goes—if he introduces himself, schools will fight to get him. As for Mai Sui, next time we meet for dinner, you pay.”

The English teacher said: “I haven’t finished—he gets to Shanghai, you watch out for him quietly.”

Yu Shuheng picked up his teacup, took a sip, and asked: “What’s the price?”

The English teacher sneered: “He’s obsessed with beautiful women—especially ones with your level of grace. That’s the highest value.”

Yu Shuheng slowly turned his teacup in his hand and said casually: “Keep him yourself—I’m not interested.”

“Then that’s settled. Phone calls are expensive—goodbye.”

“Mm.”

PS: Zhongda is truly boring now.

But Fudan University isn’t bad. I’ve read a lot of old materials about Shanghai recently, and today I bought five more books. I’m confident I can break through—and even more confident I can capture the flavor of Shanghai’s alleyways. In March, I’m serious. Big bosses, believe me.

Also: my outline stretches all the way to 2008. As my final era-based urban novel, I’ve truly refined every outline and subplot. I’ve gathered over seventy thousand words of research alone. Big bosses, you can look forward to it—don’t fixate on small gains or losses. The timeline is long, and every female lead will have ample screen time.

Also, please understand: not writing Beijing is fine—Shanghai shines just as brightly.

Sigh, I hope this text doesn’t get swallowed—I’m afraid big bosses won’t see this and misunderstand me.

Since the chapter-editing permission is locked, I can’t revise the earlier parts. I’m making this clear here—apologies.

(End of chapter)