Chapter 91: The Gaokao Ends

At 6:10 a.m., Li Ye woke up twenty minutes early.

He’d barely fallen asleep after counting seventy or eighty sheep last night, and woke early today—his sleep was average at best.

One reason was that the Gaokao, prepared for half a year, was finally ending; this was his first major plan since arriving in this world, and its imminent completion stirred deep emotion.

The second reason was that last night, over dinner, Wen Leyu quietly told Li Ye that someone from Jingcheng would come to take her and Teacher Ke away in the next couple of days.

That was the real reason.

Li Ye and Wen Leyu had only formally known each other for a little over half a year—on the long journey of life, it seemed but a brief stretch.

Yet it was the first genuine emotion he’d felt since his reincarnation.

He did have feelings for his family—Li Zhongfa, Wu Juying, Li Juan, and others—

but those were mostly the blood ties of “Li Ye”’s original body; Li Ye accepted and nurtured them naturally to blend into this world.

But with Wen Leyu, it was entirely different.

Perhaps in those first few days after meeting Wen Leyu, Li Ye had carried over some residual impulses from his past life, harboring unusual thoughts about this stunningly beautiful girl.

But as he gradually got to know her, Li Ye’s mindset changed completely.

He admitted he was “hungry” for Wen Leyu—but that “hunger” was a kind of spiritual comfort he’d never known in his past life.

In the past half year together, Li Ye and Wen Leyu had probably spoken fewer words than he had during a month of flirting or being flirted with in his past life.

Yet during that time, Li Ye had recalled countless times the white moonlight of his past life—even those internet-famous white moonlights.

After comparing them, Li Ye realized Wen Leyu had quietly wrapped herself tightly around his heart.

So when the little girl suddenly mentioned they’d be separated for months, the bitter ache of parting caught Li Ye completely off guard.

[Am I, the chosen one of this realm, really destined to end up with just one female lead?]

Recalling the bestseller lists of certain web novels, which one didn’t have multiple women at once, enjoying the blessings of a full harem? Li Ye sometimes felt like a failure.

But when he was with Wen Leyu, it felt... truly satisfying.

A quiet harmony, effortless flow—each frown and smile carried an unspoken sigh of “what more could one ask for?”

Perhaps this was the steadfastness of youth.

Every boy must hold a sacred belief in beautiful love... unless he meets a tea artist.

Having woken up twenty minutes early, Li Ye felt stiff and uncomfortable, so he took the opportunity to walk two rounds of forms in the courtyard.

In many parts of Dongshan Province, “forms” meant martial movements; Li Ye’s grandfather was a well-known fist master in Qingshui County.

Here, people trained fists not in “sets” like push-ups or slimming exercises in later eras, but in “rounds.”

One round meant walking back and forth along a straight line—the distance varied with the space: long rounds were fifty to sixty meters, short ones twenty or so.

In Li Ye’s small courtyard, a diagonal strip of hard, smooth earth stood out, as if compacted by ramming—water wouldn’t soak in.

It had been worn into the ground over years by his grandfather and young Li Ye practicing forms.

After reincarnating, Li Ye hadn’t trained much; now, relying on muscle memory, his movements were stiff but still vigorous enough to stir the air impressively.

After several rounds, the discomfort from poor sleep vanished entirely.

“Your forms are rusty, but your strength has grown.”

Li Zhongfa, watching from the window, grew interested, slipped on his shoes, and stepped out—

then grabbed two wooden spears from behind the door and tossed one to Li Ye.

“Come on, let’s see if your skills have regressed.”

Actually, Li Zhongfa’s proudest form was spear thrusting.

For centuries, the north had suffered raids by northern cavalry.

Locals couldn’t afford cavalry, so they were forced to master long weapons to survive against mounted foes.

Thus, many northern martial styles included “great spear” forms.

With the rise of firearms, these great spear forms evolved into bayonet techniques, becoming the last glory of cold weapons.

Li Zhongfa killed three Japanese soldiers with one spear against three—he was legendary for it, and his lifelong pride; even knowing it was useless now, he still passed it on to Li Kaijian and Li Ye.

Perhaps he already saw that as his generation and the next aged, this skill would inevitably vanish—so as long as he could pass it on for one more day, he would.

Li Ye took the wooden spear, swung it twice to test the feel, and assumed his stance.

He was about to leave the beginner village; boosting his combat power was still necessary—these days, there were no summoned spirits to call on demand; real emergencies depended on personal survival skills.

He touched the soft leather tip of the spear, and a quiet thrill stirred within him.

He shifted his feet, then lunged forward, thrusting the spear—tall and swift, powerful and precise.

Li Zhongfa didn’t move; his wooden spear flicked sideways, deflecting Li Ye’s thrust, then he flicked his wrist, feinting a thrust at Li Ye’s chest.

Li Ye slid back just in time, barely avoiding it, and reset his stance.

There was no “three hundred rounds of battle” here—one move decided victory or defeat; one misstep meant being struck.

“Hmm, Xiao Ye, your body’s more agile than before!”

Li Zhongfa praised him, stepped forward, and thrust at Li Ye.

Grandfather and grandson exchanged blows, neither using full strength, yet the clacks and thuds were lively.

The techniques were simple—deflect, thrust, occasionally sweep—but intensely fierce.

Li Ye felt good—he’d slept lazily for half a year and was still full of energy; clearly, he was the protagonist template.

But he’d barely celebrated for two seconds when Li Zhongfa seized an opening and struck his calf—*pūtōng*—he fell to the ground.

“Ah, Xiao Ye, you’ve been lazy these past six months. Youth hides it now, but later...”

Li Zhongfa launched into his lecture mode—but before he’d said two sentences, his mother Wu Juying poked her head out from the kitchen.

“Still practicing this junk? Haven’t you caused enough trouble these past few years? Try practicing one more round and see what happens!”

Li Zhongfa froze mid-sentence.

Li Ye glanced at his grandmother’s fierce expression and instantly knew what to do.

“Grandpa, I’ve got an exam today! Let’s talk another day!”

“Alright, exams come first.”

Li Zhongfa picked up Li Ye’s wooden spear, turned, and went inside, slamming the door shut.

The old man was angry.

But Grandma Wu Juying was angrier.

These days, people didn’t yet fully grasp “lose a fight, go to the hospital; win a fight, go to court.”

Several of Li Zhongfa’s students and disciples had caused him trouble over the years, even making his son-in-law Zhao Yuanchao complain.

Wu Juying, who just wanted a peaceful life, naturally grew furious.

“Fine! Don’t eat today!”

Wu Juying snapped harshly.

But the next moment, Li Zhongfa shouted from inside: “Chunmei, bring me two big bowls of noodles!”

“.........”

“Eat! Eat until you burst, you old fool.”

“Pūchī~”

On the final day of the 1982 Gaokao, the morning exam was physics.

Li Ye finished smoothly, completing everything with half an hour left.

Then he checked his answers while estimating how many points his “students” would score.

He knew exactly which questions he’d taught and practiced over the past few months, and could roughly guess whether Hu Man and the others could solve the ones he hadn’t covered.

After all this time, he had a general sense of each person’s knowledge level.

He estimated that if everything went well, Li Dayong and the others would score above 60, while Hu Man and Jiang Xiaoyan might reach over 70.

That was an excellent result.

Given how hard the math exam had been, if they picked up even ten or twenty points on the afternoon English test, the battle was essentially over.

When the bell rang to end the exam, nearly all candidates trudged out like deflated balloons, weak and drained.

It had been torture.

As Li Ye exited the exam hall, he passed Xia Yue and noticed her face was ghastly, her dark circles severe.

After meeting up with Hu Man and the others, Han Xia said: “She probably hasn’t slept well these past two days. With her usual grades, getting into a university outside Jingcheng is too much.”

“Who isn’t struggling? Did you forget how nervous you were, unable to sleep three days ago? Who could’ve imagined this would happen?”

Hu Man looked at Li Ye and said sincerely: “Even though we haven’t finished yet, I want to tell you now—thank you. Truly, thank you, Li Ye. Without you... there’d be no us today.”

Li Ye noticed Hu Man’s gaze growing strange, and beside him, Wen Leyu’s expression was turning strange too.

He shuddered and quickly said: “We’re classmates of the same year; there’s plenty of time ahead. We’ll help each other to go further and smoother—don’t dwell on small favors.”

Han Xia immediately added: “Right, let’s not say more words. We all carry your kindness in our hearts.”

Yan Jinbu: “Exactly, Han Xia’s right.”

Fu Yingjie slapped his chest: “Li Ye, anytime you need me, I’ll stick my ribs through for you—”

“.........”

Li Ye found it amusing, as if he’d returned to fifth grade in his past life, with those naive little friends—

yet he was deeply moved, remembering the comrades from his past life who’d pulled him up from despair, late-night barbecue buddies.

He wondered if they were still well.

During the final English exam in the afternoon, the exam hall already carried a clear air of apathy.

Li Ye watched as at least a dozen candidates handed in their papers after completing the true/false and multiple-choice sections, walking out with heads held high, leaving only a confident silhouette.

This had never happened in previous exams.

Even if students couldn’t solve a single question, they’d endure until the very last moment of the exam, showing reverence for the Gaokao.

But now, many no longer cared.

Caring was useless—everything was just tadpoles and toads; who could tell male from female?

Li Ye answered the paper carefully, especially putting great effort into the final English essay.

Although he had already scored enough to meet the threshold, he dared not relax for a second.

Dongshan Province was a Gaokao powerhouse, teeming with geniuses and prodigies; if this year some bizarre twist caused him to clash with his chosen major and get reassigned, it would be a bottomless pit!

Back then, when the news broke about Tsinghua’s pork vendor, countless jaws dropped—wasn’t it just a bad major?

“Boom—boom—boom~”

Suddenly, several teachers rushed past the window; their hurried footsteps immediately drew the candidates’ attention.

“Don’t move! Don’t look around!”

The invigilator shouted sharply, suppressing the commotion inside the exam hall, then moved to the door to peer outside.

Several teachers had already run into another exam room not far away—clearly something had happened there.

The exam room where Yan Jinbu was seated had already descended into chaos.

Just moments ago, Yan Jinbu had been answering questions smoothly, thinking, “If I’d known it’d be this easy, I’d have applied to Beijing Aerospace,” when he heard a clatter of desks and chairs behind him—and the invigilator at the podium instantly changed expression.

He turned and saw Xia Yue collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

The exam room erupted into chaos.

One teacher rushed down to help Xia Yue; another ran out the door, frantically gesturing to the patrol teacher outside.

Many candidates inside the room also began entertaining improper thoughts.

Yan Jinbu was nervously watching Xia Yue when he felt someone approach from his left.

He turned—his neighbor had practically leaned over onto his paper.

He quickly folded his paper and covered it with his hand.

But the boy, emboldened by malice, mouthed at Yan Jinbu: “F*** you...”

Yan Jinbu immediately pointed at the invigilator, warning the boy: if he dared cause trouble again, he’d be ruined.

At this moment, if Yan Jinbu had just shouted, the boy caught cheating would be finished.

The boy retreated angrily, mouthing: “You’re gonna pay.”

“I’m waiting?”

Yan Jinbu couldn’t help laughing—he was awkward with words and honest to a fault, but he wasn’t afraid of a fight.

Besides, he had brothers outside.

After the patrol teacher entered Xia Yue’s room, he first helped her sit up, letting her rest her head on the desk.

But Xia Yue had no awareness at all—she couldn’t even hold herself up; as soon as he let go, she slid down.

“Wait five minutes!”

Beads of sweat covered the patrol teacher’s face.

Once a candidate left the exam room, they couldn’t come back.

He glanced at the girl’s paper—half filled with dense answers; he couldn’t let her be delayed.

Five minutes passed in a flash, but Xia Yue still hadn’t woken up, as if asleep.

“Wait another five minutes!”

The patrol teacher wiped the sweat from his face, holding firm to his final stand.

The restlessness inside the room kept bubbling up, refusing to settle, pressing heavily on him.

He’d be held responsible.

But when the final time came, his stubbornness yielded no result.

He could only say, with profound helplessness: “Take her out.”

“Ding-ding-ding~”

The final bell for submission rang.

Li Ye handed in his paper, calmly gathered his things, and walked out of the exam hall with ease.

Outside, the sunlight was blinding; he instinctively squinted.

Then he saw Xia Yue sitting against the far wall.

Many students around her pointed and whispered, yet she remained utterly still.

But from afar, Li Ye felt he could see the emptiness in Xia Yue’s eyes.

Li Ye knew well: Xia Yue had gone down a narrow, rigid path; had she calmed down earlier and analyzed rationally, she should have lowered her expectations after the math exam and aimed calmly for her second or third-choice schools.

She was too proud—so proud that no one dared to persuade her.

Li Ye sighed and turned away.

It was over. Flowers bloomed, flowers fell—another year passed.