Chapter 48: I Can Responsibly Tell You

Li Ye saw off Hao Jian, Jin Peng, and Wang Qiangqiang, shut the door of the small storage room, and dragged out a simple wooden blackboard.

This was something Li Ye had asked Jin Peng to make: a wooden frame with two square meters of board nailed on—crude, but functional.

“Everyone finished eating? Good. Listen up for a moment.”

“Full! Full! I’m about to burst, hehehe.”

“Li Ye, what are you gonna say? If you’re gonna regret it and make us pay more for meals, we’re not paying a single cent, hehe.”

“Hahahaha~”

The girls giggled, watching the serious Li Ye, finding it amusing.

Li Ye almost got distracted by the girls, but now he had to be serious.

“Bang bang bang~”

Li Ye held a small stick and struck the blackboard hard.

“Let me explain first: today, we didn’t do anything wrong—it was Xia Yue and her group who were at fault. So why did I bring you all out of school?”

“.........”

The girls stopped laughing, staring at Li Ye in surprise, all puzzled.

【Wasn’t it just to get better food?】

【Wasn’t it to avoid hanging out with Xia Yue and her crowd?】

Li Ye swung the stick, speaking darkly: “Actually, you all should know I’m not someone to mess with. Even though Xia Yue’s been class monitor for years, with some skill and experience........”

“But I can responsibly tell you: if I used my family’s connections to give Xia Yue a lesson or a disciplinary mark, it wouldn’t be hard at all.”

“Or I could play the same dirty games as Xia Yue—force her to drop out and leave. I could do it.”

“But I didn’t........ Do you know why?”

Li Ye tapped the blackboard and growled: “All of you, be serious.”

“Shhh~”

All seven teenagers, including Wen Leyu, sat up straight in unison.

“Because I don’t want to stay in that cesspool.”

Li Ye turned to Li Dayong, Fu Yingjie, and Jiang Xiao Yan: “You three used to be in the remedial class one. Back then, what did you think remedial class one was?”

“Wasn’t it the stronghold of top students? The hope of the whole second high school? The cradle of future college students?”

“And didn’t the top students in class one see us in remedial class two and three as the school’s burden, wishing all teachers would only teach class one?”

Li Dayong chuckled silently; Fu Yingjie smiled awkwardly, lips pressed tight.

Jiang Xiao Yan lowered her head and muttered like a mosquito: “I didn’t... they were just talking nonsense.”

But all three knew: students in remedial class one, especially the top thirty, looked down on class two and three.

They were the fast track—fifty students drawn from every township and county middle school across the county.

Class one students consistently held the top forty spots in school rankings; when a student from class two or three got transferred over, they’d complain: “Don’t drag down the class average.”

Yet despite that, students from remedial class two and three still fought tooth and nail to get into class one.

Because the teachers cared most about class one—seventy to eighty percent of their energy went into them.

The fast track at Qingshui County Second High might not match the one at County First High, but it was far superior to many township schools outside town.

Every high school student in Qingshui County knew: only by entering the fast track at County First or Second High could you have a real shot at crossing the dragon gate and getting into college.

Students from township schools, or even remedial class two and three, were mostly just runners-up.

“Don’t deny it,” Li Ye said coolly. “Class one’s level really is a bit higher than class two and three—but compared to us here........”

Li Ye waved the stick, sweeping it around the small storage room—barely twenty square meters.

“Class one is a stinking cesspool. Step in once, and you’ll get dirty.”

“.........”

Jiang Xiao Yan and Fu Yingjie were stunned. They felt the Li Ye standing there now resembled........ a charlatan.

【Even charlatans can be this handsome......】

But the weirder part was still coming.

Li Ye tapped the blackboard again, chin raised: “I can responsibly tell you,”

“This little room is the 1982 Qingshui County...... college preparatory class.”

“As long as you join our little group, next year—you will all get into college.”

“Whoa~”

All six students gasped aloud.

Even Li Dayong thought his brother’s mouth was stretched too wide—he might dislocate his tongue.

Brother, do you even know how many college students Qingshui County sent off last year?

Even counting junior colleges, fewer than seven.

Seven people all getting into college? No—add you, Li Ye, that’s eight.

Even the Director of the County Education Bureau wouldn’t brag that wildly in his dreams.

But you eat their food, you shut your mouth—the smell of pork ribs stewed with radish hadn’t even left their throats; they couldn’t stick out their tongues and go “bleh.”

And right now, Li Ye stood there radiating such intense confidence, such overwhelming pressure—it felt as if what he said couldn’t be doubted.

Li Ye was indeed confident.

In his past life, he often browsed Bilibili forums, where the topic “Modern Gaokao vs. 1970s–80s Gaokao” was always hot.

Two main theories emerged—and both had been empirically verified.

The first: a group of elite university graduates from the late 70s and early 80s challenged their high school kids to retake modern Gaokao papers.

The results were dismal—they couldn’t even handle many question types.

But those veteran graduates, now holding powerful positions, were certain: with just one year to adapt, they couldn’t guarantee 985, but they could definitely aim for 211.

Why?

Because of IQ.

These were people who had fought their way into the top 1% of the 4% acceptance rate era. Even if the exam questions were simple, they were absolute geniuses.

Yet even these geniuses, blindly facing off against modern high schoolers, were overwhelmed—pummeled like they’d been hit with bricks and clubs.

The second theory: modern high schoolers took the Gaokao papers from the late 70s and early 80s.

For example, the final math problem in 1977 was proving the Pythagorean theorem.

In the following years, through the early 80s, the difficulty rose slightly, but overall, it felt like a middle school exam.

Even at that level, it crushed countless students—just passing meant college admission.

So Li Ye believed his real Gaokao rivals weren’t Xia Yue or the fast track at County First High—they were those genius monsters.

After all, there are always some creatures that make life unbearable.

Fortunately, it was already 1981.

A professor from Tsinghua once said: after teaching so many students, the 1977 batch was the best.

Even with the educational gap, those geniuses were like gold in sand—impossible to hide.

In 1977, though the questions were simple, years of pent-up genius had accumulated—true chaos of monsters.

After the first two years of Gaokao, all those high-IQ talents had finally been swept away.

Otherwise, with his own mediocre abilities from his past life, even with his mental biological hard drive to cheat, he’d never have dared to boldly aim for Tsinghua and Peking University.

But Li Ye had confidence—others didn’t.

“Cough~ Li Ye....... I think what you just said is....... not right.”

Hu Man, having served as class monitor for a long time, could barely muster a rebuttal against Li Ye’s commanding aura.

She kindly advised him: “We should be confident about the future, but not...... arrogant.”

“It doesn’t matter what we say here, but if Xia Yue and her group hear this, it’ll become a huge joke........”

“Why would they hear it? Are you going to tell them?”

Li Ye pointed at the storage room door, sternly: “I warn you—all events inside this room, everything you see here—no word, no sentence, must leave this room.”

Li Ye first tossed a stack of hand-cut white paper to Hu Man and the others, then turned, picked up chalk, and began writing problems on the blackboard.

As he wrote, he said: “Starting today, you’ll complete two to three exam papers every day—until the Gaokao.”

“What? Two or three papers a day?”

“How’s that possible? Li Ye, are you saying you’ll make the papers for us?”

“Impossible! Even teachers can’t make one paper a week........”

Though everyone admitted Li Ye was an excellent student with superb problem-solving skills, no one believed he could produce three full papers every single day.

Creating questions isn’t copying them. Teachers strain their brains trying to design new papers distinct from past ones—wearing out countless brain cells.

The remedial class one currently takes a full-subject test every half-month; the task of producing one paper per half-month has already pushed Teacher Luo and others to their limits.

Only recently did Teacher Ke lend a hand, giving Teacher Luo and the rest a brief reprieve.

Now, an eighteen-year-old Li Ye is supposed to produce three papers daily—continuously until the Gaokao?

Would that mean he spends all his time outside class solving problems?

Where would you even get that many papers? Even Beijing doesn’t have that many.

But if it were true........ just imagining it was thrilling!

The students chattered excitedly, half-skeptical, half-thrilled.

Wen Leyu slowly turned her head, her cold gaze sweeping over the group of “little sparrows,” and she rebuked without emotion: “Can you be quiet? Those who believe Li Ye, stay. Those who don’t, leave.”

“.........”

Don't provoke her, don't provoke her; Little Mute rarely speaks, but when she does, it's always extraordinary.

If you really go and whisper in Li Ye’s ear and get yourself kicked out, forget three problem sets a day—even a meal costing a dime will be gone!

While everyone’s thoughts were racing, Li Ye had already filled the entire small blackboard; his handwriting was messy but barely legible.

Li Ye turned around and looked at his stunned classmates, displeased: “What are you all staring at? Don’t you have any sense? Hurry up and copy the problems—do you expect me to mimeograph them for you?”

“Oh, oh.”

Several classmates scrambled in a panic, frantically copying the problems.

By the time they finally finished copying, Li Ye wiped the board clean in one motion and began writing the second set of problems.

The classmates hurried to copy again.

By the time they reached the third board, seeing that Li Ye showed no sign of stopping, Hu Man and the others began to doubt their earlier skepticism.

“Maybe Li Ye... actually can do it.”