Chapter Twelve: The Treacherous Scheme

At present, there are still 240 points available in the system, with a total of 540 accumulated points. If he could reach 1000 accumulated points, he would have another chance at a random lottery draw. Zhang Wenhao had already asked the system about the specifics of the lottery: once the accumulated points met the threshold, the system would automatically initiate the drawing process, and all skills within the system could potentially be selected. The winning rate was one hundred percent. Because of this, Zhang Wenhao was quite looking forward to it; if he really drew a high-level skill, he would be in for a big windfall.

However, he was still short 460 accumulated points. He had no idea how long it would take to reach the target, but at the latest, it would happen after the college entrance examination. As long as he achieved an outstanding result in the exam, the points awarded by the system might easily reach four digits.

The next morning, Zhang Wenhao took advantage of the long break to go to the door of his old Class Three. Just as he arrived, Su Ruoran stood up from her seat and was about to leave. Zhang Wenhao waved at her.

Su Ruoran smiled gently and stepped out, asking, “Did you come to see me?”

“Yes,” Zhang Wenhao replied with a smile, handing her the USB drive. “I’ve copied out all the materials, so I’m returning your USB. I watched the video tutorials inside last night—they were really excellent. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Su Ruoran replied with a charming smile. “Didn’t I say the USB drive was a gift for you? Why bring it back to me?”

Zhang Wenhao scratched his head. “You’ve already helped me a lot; how could I accept your things as well?” Gathering his courage, he continued, “Class monitor, would you let me treat you to a meal this weekend? I have to show my gratitude somehow.”

Su Ruoran pursed her lips, smiling. “No need to thank me. If your English score improves in the next exam, that’s good enough.”

“That won’t do,” Zhang Wenhao protested quickly. “If you refuse, I’ll feel uneasy, and when I feel uneasy, I get irritable. If I get irritable, my grades might drop.”

Su Ruoran raised an eyebrow and asked, “So if I don’t agree, and your grades fall, it’s my fault?”

“Of course,” Zhang Wenhao laughed. “That’s why you need to give me this opportunity—to fulfill my wish.”

“Alright,” Su Ruoran said after a moment’s hesitation. “But I have one condition: if you score above 110 in English on the next mock exam, then you can treat me to dinner. Otherwise, I’d feel embarrassed accepting your thanks.”

Zhang Wenhao naturally understood her meaning and smiled, “Don’t worry, the materials you gave me are really useful. If my English score doesn’t improve next time, I’ll be too ashamed to see you.”

“Good,” Su Ruoran nodded, smiling softly. “It’s settled, then.”

“Deal!”

Leaving Class Three, Zhang Wenhao had just reached the stairwell when Li Nan pulled him and Zhang Haoran out to the school playground. The long break lasted thirty minutes, and Li Nan and his friends liked to sneak off to a corner of the playground to smoke. Though Zhang Wenhao never touched tobacco, Li Nan always invited him along to chat, and Zhang Wenhao never refused.

The students in Class Twenty-One all had poor grades, but most of them were lively and didn’t bury themselves in their studies as others did, making them easier to get along with. Zhang Wenhao was one of them and got along well with his classmates.

On the playground, Zhang Wenhao, Li Nan, and a few others were chatting about World of Warcraft, unaware that two people in the distance were watching him and whispering.

One of them, his face dark and grim, was Chen Chong. Beside him was his sidekick, also a Class Three student, named Zheng Xiaohe. Zheng Xiaohe’s father was subordinate to Chen Chong’s father, so Zheng Xiaohe always made a point of sticking close to Chen Chong and obeyed his every word.

“Brother Chong,” Zheng Xiaohe said, noticing Chen Chong’s sour expression as he watched Zhang Wenhao. “That Zhang Wenhao is getting too cocky. He gets good grades and wants the whole school to know, and lately he’s been getting close to Su Ruoran. Today I heard them chatting at the classroom door, and that kid even wanted to invite Su Ruoran to dinner.”

Chen Chong frowned coldly. “Is that so? Did Su Ruoran agree?”

“She did,” Zheng Xiaohe replied. “She said she’d wait until Zhang Wenhao improved his English score in the next mock exam before accepting.”

“Damn it!” Chen Chong felt a hollow emptiness in his chest, quickly replaced by fury. He said coldly, “I didn’t expect Su Ruoran to care so much about Zhang Wenhao. Damn, I’ve been trying to find an opportunity to invite her to dinner, and she’s never agreed! But for Zhang Wenhao, she’s practically eager!”

A sinister smile crossed Zheng Xiaohe’s face. “Brother Chong, you should realize it’s a threat. You weren’t there just now, but I saw the way Su Ruoran looked at Zhang Wenhao—it was unusual, full of ambiguity. If this keeps up, Zhang Wenhao might beat you to the punch.”

Chen Chong gritted his teeth. “I realized it yesterday. This Zhang Wenhao needs to be taught a lesson! Otherwise, he might mess up my plans!”

He turned to Zheng Xiaohe and asked, “Xiaohe, don’t you know a lot of people at Sixth High? Can you get a few guys to ambush Zhang Wenhao after school and teach him a lesson, so he won’t dare approach Su Ruoran again?”

“No problem,” Zheng Xiaohe replied eagerly, waiting for this moment. “I’m good friends with Feilong from Sixth High—his reputation speaks for itself, you know. One phone call and it’ll be handled.”

Chen Chong nodded. “Feilong is a big shot at Sixth High. I’ve heard of him, but we’re not acquainted. Contact him for me. Tell him I’ll give him three thousand yuan once it’s done.”

“No need,” Zheng Xiaohe said quickly. “This is nothing. Leave it to me; you don’t need to pay.”

Chen Chong looked satisfied. “Alright, Xiaohe. If you manage this, I owe you a favor.”

…

After evening self-study, Zhang Wenhao and several classmates rode their bikes out of the school. At the intersection, he parted ways and rode home alone. He hadn’t gone far when suddenly five or six people darted out from the roadside greenery. A tall, burly fat man stepped in front of him, blocking his bicycle.

Seeing trouble, Zhang Wenhao asked, “What do you want?”

The fat man looked at him contemptuously. “You’re Zhang Wenhao, right?”

Wenhao narrowed his eyes. “What of it?”

“What of it?” The fat man snorted, then suddenly punched Zhang Wenhao square in the chest, cursing, “I’m here to teach you a lesson, what do you think?”

Zhang Wenhao hadn’t expected the fat man to strike so suddenly. The man was strong, and Zhang Wenhao, sitting on his bike, had nowhere to dodge, taking the blow full on. His chest throbbed painfully, and before he could react, the fat man yanked him up. The others swarmed around, dragging him into the greenery.

He felt someone kick him hard from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. Before he could turn, fists and feet rained down on his back. Zhang Wenhao clenched his teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

Just then, he spotted half a broken brick on the ground, grabbed it, and swung it fiercely at the attackers.

Caught off guard, three of them were struck by the brick, though Zhang Wenhao’s strength wasn’t great and the injuries weren’t serious. Still, the pain was enough to enrage them, and their blows grew heavier.

Zhang Wenhao wanted to grapple with one of them, but he was overwhelmed by their numbers and had no chance. After two or three minutes, the fat man finally called out, “Enough!”

The others stopped, and Zhang Wenhao, aching all over, had no strength left. The fat man squatted in front of him and warned coldly, “If you want to make it to graduation in one piece, stay away from Su Ruoran. Otherwise, next time will be worse. Every time I see you, I’ll beat you.”

Fury burned in Zhang Wenhao’s heart. Unyielding, he said, “Tell me your name. Next time, I’ll come find you myself.”

“Don’t play tough with me,” the fat man sneered. “If I hadn’t been told not to go too hard, I’d have crippled you today. You’re not tough enough for me!”

Zhang Wenhao stared into the fat man’s arrogant face, speaking each word distinctly: “Tell me your name!”

“Damn!” The fat man stood up and stomped hard on Zhang Wenhao’s back, cursing, “I’m Feilong from Sixth High. If you’ve got guts, come find me. If I don’t break your legs, I’ll take your name as mine!”

With that, Feilong called out to his companions, “Brothers, let’s go! Karaoke tonight—my treat!”