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Chapter 11: First Major Exam

~7 min read 1,338 words

The two sat inside the shop.

Song Yao watched Xu Qingzhou slurping his noodles loudly, her mood sinking—she was now utterly certain this guy was scheming to get her to treat him.

Though it was just a matter of a few yuan, “Little brother, little sister, your guokui.”

The owner brought over a plate of freshly fried guokui.

“Thank you, boss,” Xu Qingzhou said. The owner was thoughtful—he’d sliced the guokui into pieces.

Seeing the owner already starting to pack up the outdoor seating, Xu Qingzhou was surprised. “Are you closing so early?”

“Business is bad. We’re shutting down,” the owner sighed.

Read! {

Night had grown deep; the streetlamps along the path glowed orange-yellow, cool wind brushed past, tree shadows swayed, and on the road, a young couple strolled leisurely, their shadows occasionally merging under the light.

Xu Qingzhou, seeing Song Yao’s stiff face and murderous expression, slipped away quietly.

“Then why are you staring at me?”

The exam was ranked by score; most of Room 2 were from Xu Qingzhou’s class. As soon as the test ended, people began checking answers. “Zuo Xu, what did you pick for multiple-choice question twelve?”

“Who stared at you?” Song Yao retorted, feeling a bit guilty, turning her gaze away. “I was thinking about the math problem just now.”

“?” Song Yao blinked up, dumbfounded.

On the weekend, after eating dinner at home, Xu Qingzhou went to the library again. Song Yao sat in her usual spot.

Xu Qingzhou nodded and greeted Song Yao.

“Alright, call me if you need help.” Rejected, Zhang Yuquan retreated sullenly to find his own table.

The girl was beautiful, her fair face flushed pink, occasionally brushing aside the strands of hair covering her eyes—a stark contrast to her usual aloof demeanor.

In the afternoon, the English exam ended.

“Maybe things will turn around soon.” He picked a piece of guokui for Song Yao and another for himself, dipping it in the broth.

“I’m screwed. I definitely didn’t do well this time.”

Song Yao’s lips moved, wanting to say she could handle it herself—they’d only recently become somewhat familiar, not close enough for such familiarity—but she felt it would sound too deliberate.

When Xu Qingzhou and Guo Ziyang entered, the classroom was lively.

“I used the step-by-step adjustment method. Didn’t expect I actually guessed right,” someone sighed.

The two slurped their noodles.

“No thanks,” Song Yao shook her head.

Xu Qingzhou shook his head, leaning against the wall, savoring the last moments of high school life.

Song Yao ignored him, finished her meal in a few bites, and went to pay. She thought to herself how she’d never noticed before how shameless this guy was.

Song Yao gave Xu Qingzhou a slight nod in return.

Song Yao had no ego to protect, and Xu Qingzhou certainly didn’t—he’d even drunk half the broth.

“Elbow, how do you rate the difficulty?” Guo Ziyang leaned over, looking utterly drained—he’d been completely stuck on two multiple-choice questions alone.

He’d at least eaten her bowl of noodles.

“Why.”

“Song Yao, let me help you carry it.” Zhang Yuquan, the top student in the grade, had sat directly in front of Song Yao during the exam. As soon as it ended, he volunteered.

Xu Qingzhou ignored Zhang Yuquan’s provocation, told Guo Ziyang he’d wait for him in the hallway.

“Thanks for the good words,” the owner replied with a smile.

The ginkgo trees swayed in the wind; below them, students who’d just finished the exam gathered in small groups. Other grades were in class, their clear, rhythmic reading echoing through the air.

“Curiosity about a boy is the start of liking him.”

After all, the essay only tested critical thinking—clear logic, organized structure, precise wording—nothing too difficult. “Never get curious about a boy.”

“If you’re in a hurry, you can go first.” Under Xu Qingzhou’s unblinking stare, Song Yao felt uneasy.

Hmm, very pretty.

Xu Qingzhou was honest: “I want to leave too, but since you paid, leaving you alone to eat feels awkward.”

Xu Qingzhou and Guo Ziyang were assigned to Room 2; the exam order matched the college entrance exam: Chinese, Math, Science Comprehensive, English.

He was about to carry the books when he saw Song Yao standing at the door—Ding Jiahui hadn’t arrived yet. He asked: “Need help?”

Seeing Xu Qingzhou enter, his voice rose several notches: “Question sixteen was complicated—I spent twenty minutes solving it. The first sub-question, when a=8, find the monotonic intervals of f(x)—that wasn’t hard, just needed differentiation. But the second question...”

“Damn it, I originally picked C, but saw two C’s in a row before it, so I didn’t dare pick it,” a classmate groaned.

Chinese was hard to comment on—reading comprehension got partial credit as long as the general direction was right. Math was different; after the exam, everyone moaned.

I heard she does sanda or something. Don’t know if it’s true.

Room 1 was right next door—Xu Qingzhou’s own classroom. Only one or two students were from other classes. After the exam, most would return to the hallway outside to retrieve their books and prepare for the next subject.

After walking a while, he kept muttering to himself—why did he feel like he was about to get punched?

Zhang Yuquan was the center of attention, surrounded by five or six people discussing the math exam.

Her eyes were bright, clear, and pure; their gazes met in midair, making Xu Qingzhou glance at her a moment longer.

Xu Qingzhou realized—he was in 2014, when influencer economy hadn’t taken off yet. In the past, a shop like this, open for decades, would’ve had a line stretching over ten meters.

“C”

Seeing his expression, Xu Qingzhou swallowed the word “easy” and said: “This set is definitely harder than usual. The college entrance exam probably won’t go this far.”

Song Yao carried her books out of the classroom and waited in the hallway for Ding Jiahui. A breeze brushed her face, lifting a few strands of hair from her forehead.

“So comfortable,” Xu Qingzhou slumped back in his chair, waiting for Song Yao to finish eating.

Zhang Yuxin and a girl came up with notebooks and pencil cases. Seeing Xu Qingzhou at the stairwell, their expressions shifted from surprise to haughty dismissal, then they walked past him toward the classroom.

“Do I have flowers on my face?” Xu Qingzhou suddenly asked. This girl had been sneaking glances at him.

The area around the senior classrooms echoed with the clatter of desks being moved.

Two days passed in a flash. On Tuesday, Xu Qingzhou’s first major exam since his rebirth arrived.

“You said the same thing last time—and you scored 140.”

The next morning was the Science Comprehensive exam.

Song Yao just stared at him, her meaning clear: Ha.

After the exam, Xu Qingzhou’s surroundings grew lively—everyone came to check physics answers, and he smiled and answered them all.

Hearing Xu Qingzhou say that, Guo Ziyang’s mood lifted. The two headed back to the classroom.

“Actually, I’m not even sure about this question. My answer might be wrong,” said the boy with glasses, humbly.

They exchanged little conversation—Xu Qingzhou read, Song Yao reviewed on her own.

In the past, Xu Qingzhou hated Chinese most—he could scrape off enough dandruff from his scalp while writing essays. But now, for him, it was effortless.

Xu Qingzhou moved quickly—he’d already carried all the desks and chairs back. Following the weekly rotation rule, he and Guo Ziyang switched to the left window seat, gaining a view outside for daydreaming.

!.

Song Yao hesitated, then nodded, pointing to two tables by the stairwell. “These are mine and Jiahui’s.”

“Alright,” Xu Qingzhou nodded, carried his book box back to his seat, and patted Guo Ziyang, who was organizing his desk. “Fatty, get to work—help Song Yao and her friend move the tables.”

“Oh, okay,” Guo Ziyang nodded, muttering to himself—when had Elbow become so proactive?

The two quickly moved Song Yao and Ding Jiahui’s belongings back to the classroom.

(End of Chapter)

End of Chapter

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