Chapter 85: Do You Believe in Geniuses? (Please Subscribe!)

Around 9:50 p.m.

Sun Manning, Mai Sui, and Chen Lijun, the three girls who had come to check scores at the academic office, returned.

Sun Manning stood at the door, glancing at her digital watch on her right wrist, then at Li Heng, who was still writing furiously—she ultimately couldn’t bring herself to disturb him.

She told Mai Sui and Chen Lijun: “The classroom lights will go out in ten minutes at most. Let’s wait a little longer.”

It was a monthly break anyway; wherever they went, it was relaxation. Mai Sui and Chen Lijun had no objections.

Chen Lijun sighed: “Li Heng has improved so fast this semester—I just calculated, his total score in this mock exam is exactly the same as Mai Sui’s.”

What’s more, he only spent eighty-five minutes on Chinese and math, yet still scored so high—it’s incredible.”

The mock exam results had been released, but rankings hadn’t been finalized yet.

The three girls had just reviewed the scores of everyone in the front rows of Exam Room One. Song Yu had the highest total: 619 points. If she maintained this score, Tsinghua or Peking University were open to her—she could pick any humanities major she wanted.

Second place was Xiao Feng, with 616 points. Though three points behind Song Yu, it still surpassed last year’s Tsinghua-Peking cutoff.

Third place was a tie between Li Heng and Mai Sui, both at 609 points.

Fifth place, unsurprisingly, was Luo Zhijie, with 607 points.

Sun Manning agreed, looking at Li Heng in the classroom: “I think he’s aiming for Song Yu—wants to get into Peking University with her.”

Chen Lijun whispered: “Isn’t Chen Zijin also in the capital? Has he really broken up with her?”

Sun Manning and Mai Sui exchanged glances but said nothing. Though both girls had their suspicions, they weren’t involved parties and couldn’t give accurate information.

Besides, Li Heng was so close to them—they couldn’t gossip casually.

Mai Sui, who had been silent until now, spoke up: “Just now, when I saw Song Yu and Li Heng’s photos side by side on the Honor Board, I suddenly had a strange feeling.”

Sun Manning asked: “What kind of feeling?”

Mai Sui hesitated a moment, then said: “My gut tells me they’ll end up together. Song Yu will eventually be moved by his devotion.”

Hearing this, Chen Lijun said: “Really? I’ll go check the Honor Board again.”

Ten minutes passed in a flash—the classroom lights went out precisely on time.

“Damn! I still haven’t memorized that last part!” came Zhang Zhiyong’s loud grumble from the back.

Li Heng showed no reaction. Using the streetlight’s glow through the window, he calmly packed his manuscript into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked toward the door.

After three hours of work, he’d written nearly 2,800 words today—he was quite satisfied.

He’d add another shift after returning to the dorm, push hard the next two days—maybe he could finish “Wan Zhu” by the first day back after break.

“I didn’t notice you three waiting. Sorry for keeping you.” Li Heng apologized.

“It’s fine—it was only a few minutes.”

Sun Manning waved her arm generously, locking the classroom door as she said: “Li Heng, you scored 609—same as Mai Sui. Third in the whole school.”

The score pleased him. Li Heng grinned: “Really? Comrade Mai Sui, I’ve finally caught up to you.”

Mai Sui smiled sweetly and nodded at him.

Chen Lijun tilted her head: “Did I hear that right? You want to chase Mai Sui?”

Li Heng didn’t bite: “We’ve known each other this long—you’re still trying to provoke me, huh?

I’ll call Zou Aiming, Liu Yejiang, and Liu Li to come over—see how you handle all three of them.”

The fact that those three boys secretly adored Chen Lijun was common knowledge in Class 204. Her face flushed crimson, and she lowered her head and walked away.

Weak and loves to play, Li Heng muttered under his breath.

Back in the dorm, he didn’t rest. After a quick wash, he piled up some books as a low stool, leaned over the edge of his bed, and kept writing.

Zhang Zhiyong leaned over to peek: “Aren’t you reviewing lessons? Writing a novel—why don’t you just write at the English teacher’s house?”

Li Heng didn’t look up: “It’s late. Going to her house isn’t appropriate.”

“What’s inappropriate? I think Liu Yejiang may be a jerk, but he’s right about one thing: among all the guys in school, you’re the only one who could ever win over the English teacher. If you wanted, she wouldn’t refuse you in her bed.”

Zhang Zhiyong said this with a mix of envy and temptation.

Li Heng took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to punch him: “I’ll warn you once—stay away from me. Otherwise, I’ll beat you so badly your own mother won’t recognize you.”

“Bullshit! Don’t think I won’t fight back—I’ve always let you win!” Zhang Zhiyong jumped up, cursing, then grabbed his book and stormed off, afraid of being hit.

That night, Li Heng wrote another 1,200 words before sleeping.

The lights were out. He thought of turning on his flashlight to keep writing, but decided against it—staying up late harmed the body.

The night passed.

The next day, after gulping down a bowl of rice noodles for breakfast, Li Heng, ever clueless, headed straight to the bookstore and bought over ten reference books at once, spending dozens of yuan—it hurt his wallet.

But he couldn’t leave these books in the classroom or dorm, so he knocked again on the English teacher’s door.

To his surprise, someone was already inside.

Well, not exactly a guest—the stylish woman was Wang Run’s mother.

“Why buy so many of these books?” the English teacher flipped through them, saw they weren’t classics, and grew curious.

With someone present, Li Heng didn’t explain: “They’re useful, Teacher. I’m leaving now.”

“Get out. I didn’t cook your lunch today either,” Wang Run said bluntly, seeing him to the door.

As soon as the door shut, the stylish woman asked: “So familiar—he’s Li Heng, right? I’ve heard of him. He comes to see you often?”

Wang Run raised an eyebrow: “He’s my student.”

The stylish woman thought a moment: “Even if he’s your student, it’s complicated—you’re ten years older than him.”

She wasn’t meddling out of spite. Her daughter resisted marriage, yet seemed unusually close to this boy—it gave her a glimmer of hope.

Wang Run’s chest heaved with anger. She pointed at the door: “Leave! You’re not welcome here.”

The stylish woman had wanted to linger, but seeing her daughter truly furious, she left reluctantly.

Before departing, she gripped the doorframe, unwilling to give up: “If it’s true love, ten years doesn’t matter. If people gossip, quit teaching—teachers don’t earn much anyway. I still have some savings…”

“Bang!”

The door slammed shut.

The stylish woman’s words were cut off as she was angrily shoved out.

Sighing with deep melancholy, she murmured: “If things go on like this… I’ll probably die alone.”

Inside, the furious English teacher sat on the sofa for a long time before calming down. Then, as usual, she took out paper and pen and wrote to her best friend thousands of miles away:

“Shu Heng, it’s been a month since we last contacted. How are you? Something extraordinary has happened to me lately—but it’s also a headache. I have no one else to tell, so I’m writing to you.”

Do you believe in geniuses?

A boy under eighteen has become a great writer, producing a work like “To Live.” If I hadn’t witnessed his growth firsthand, I wouldn’t believe it—even if you gouged out my eyes, I still wouldn’t believe it…”

Angry, Wang Run filled two full pages before stopping.

Finished, her emotions returned to normal. After checking the letter once more, she picked up her pen and added one final line: I know you’ll keep this secret for me, but I still must insist—keep it quiet. This brilliant writer wants to stay low-key.

…

Leaving the faculty housing complex, Li Heng went out and bought a blue umbrella, then hurried back to the classroom.

As expected, Song Yu, Mai Sui, and the others were already there, laughing and eating candy.

No sooner had Li Heng sat down than Mai Sui grabbed a handful of White Rabbit milk candies and placed them on his desk.

Then she grabbed another handful of chocolate.

Li Heng was surprised: “Chocolate too? You’re loaded! In my whole life, the only premium treats I’ve ever had were given to me by you.”

Mai Sui’s charming eyes sparkled with a hint of flirtation as she smiled: “They were birthday gifts for my grandmother. I just took them.”

Dark chocolate meant little to Li Heng, who had lived two lives—but for ordinary families in this era, it was a luxury beyond reach, nearly impossible to taste.

Even Zhang Zhiyong, who spent money like water, held the half Li Heng gave him for a long time, turning it over in his fingers.

Unfortunately, the clueless one seemed to sense the girls didn’t like his crude language—he usually went straight to the back of the classroom and avoided joining them.

When Mai Sui and the girls went to the restroom, Li Heng handed Song Yu the new blue umbrella, along with a note.

It boldly read: I liked your umbrella, so I kept it. I bought a new one to replace it.

Simple words, few characters—but layered with meaning.

Song Yu stared silently into his eyes, those dark pupils like black holes, as if trying to suck his soul in and grind it to dust—then calmly took the new umbrella.

Li Heng felt a chill run down his spine, as if his hidden thoughts had been exposed.

In truth, he did this deliberately—to exchange tokens, so that when she used the umbrella in the rain, she’d remember him.

Since a direct, forceful pursuit wouldn’t win her over quickly, he’d go for subtlety—making himself an invisible presence in her daily life.

The three-day break vanished in a blink. Li Heng barely rested, working nonstop on “Wan Zhu” from dawn till dusk.

Hard work paid off—he’d written nearly 39,000 words. If nothing went wrong, he’d finish it by tomorrow morning.

But there was a cost: writing by hand was brutal on the fingers. The ones gripping the pen now ached faintly.

Song Yu noticed. She passed him a note: New novel?

Li Heng replied: Yes.

Song Yu hesitated two seconds, then wrote: Can I read it?

Li Heng replied: I can let you, but it’s a satirical comedy. I’m afraid you won’t adjust to it right away.

Hearing this, Song Yu didn’t mention it again.

On the first day back after break, the first mock exam results were posted on the Honor Wall.

Li Heng, concerned about Xiao Han’s score, went to check. She ranked sixth overall—not bad.

But Tsinghua or Peking University were probably out of reach.

He both hoped and feared she’d get in—it was a contradiction.

If she got in, he wouldn’t have to agonize over whether to pick Song Yu or Xiao Han when filling out college applications—after all, they’d both be in the same city.

But if she didn’t get in, there were advantages too: Chen Laoyezi held high power, Chen Gaoyuan’s position wasn’t low either. With the Chen family watching him closely, his actions would be restricted.

Of course, besides the Chen family, there were other unspoken reasons he also feared.

Yang Ying still held first place in science, damn it! It was so annoying he had no hope of surpassing her in this life.

After finishing science, he shifted his gaze to humanities.

Sun Manning ranked seventh, Liu Li eighth.

Chen Lijun ranked eleventh, dropping several places.

Zou Ai and Li Tuanming didn’t take two subjects, their scores landed at the bottom.

Duxinyan made slight progress, ranking 213th overall, climbing from second-to-last in Class 204 to third-to-last.

Surprisingly, Liu Yejiang had fallen out of the top 20 overall.

His fellow townsman Yang Cheng still hadn’t made it into the top 100, ranking 114th.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear—Yang Cheng, who cared most about grades, arrived first.

After looking, he felt a moment of utter disappointment, then immediately turned to Li Heng with renewed confidence:

“Li Heng, I’ll definitely break into the top 100 on the second mock exam. I’ve found a shortcut these past two days—I now understand problems I used to never get.”

Zhang Zhiyong couldn’t take it anymore and sneered, “Can you stop bragging? You brag every time, get humiliated every time—I’m embarrassed for you.”

Seeing many people watching, Yang Cheng’s face flushed. “You wouldn’t understand. Someone outside the top 20 can’t grasp the mystery of being in the top 100. Once I achieve sudden enlightenment…”

“Pfft! Enlightenment, you—” Zhang Zhiyong nearly leapt into the air at being directly named as someone outside the top 20.

Seeing he was about to curse publicly, Li Heng had to step in and stop these two fools.

But he couldn’t lose face—he puffed out his round, squat frame. “Zhang Zhiyong, next time I’ll beat you by 150 places.”

Zhang Zhiyong grinned, wiggling his butt and slapping it twice, then twice again—sending Yang Cheng’s face purple with rage.

“You! You! You disgrace civilization! I refuse to associate with you!” These were Yang Cheng’s last words before storming off—he even flicked his head dramatically, his haughty air like an ancient scholar-official.

Everyone around who’d come to check the results burst into laughter.

At the end of second-period evening class, Yang Ying came to the classroom to find Li Heng.

With her came Xiao Han, her ever-present shadow.

In fact, this was the first time Xiao Han had ever entered Class 204 in three years of high school.

Previously, because of Chen Zijin, she hadn’t even stepped into this building, let alone Class 204—such was her determination.

Seeing Xiao Han at Li Heng’s desk, the previously noisy Class 204 fell instantly silent, as if muted. Whether male or female, everyone’s eyes flickered between Xiao Han and Song Yu.

Over the past few years, everyone had heard the jest about the “Two Peerless Beauties,” but the two girls had barely ever met.

Who was more beautiful—Song Yu or Xiao Han? It had been a perennial topic of gossip, never fading.

Now the two girls stood side by side—well, with Li Heng between them.

But at a moment like this, who cared about Li Heng? He was instantly ignored!

“Li Heng, these are the dishes your mom asked me to bring you,” Yang Ying pulled out several jars from her bag.

Mostly pickled vegetables, one jar of tiny fish, and the last one, garlic sprouts with cured pork.

Then, Old Rags secretly slipped Li Heng seven yuan—his monthly allowance.

Although Xiao Han occasionally chatted with Li Heng, her peripheral vision never left Song Yu.

At this moment, her face was calm as still water, but inside she was seething—she wished she could borrow Wang Run’s hairpin to split the two sitting beside each other with a river of silver.

After hearing Xiao Han’s story from Chen Zijin, Song Yu couldn’t help glancing at her.

Unexpectedly, their eyes met in that single glance.

“Hello,” Xiao Han smiled sweetly at her.

Song Yu gave a slight nod, politely acknowledging her.

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(End of Chapter)