Chapter Four: Class Placement

On the sixteenth day of the first month, the school reopened. As he prepared for his final semester of high school and the looming college entrance examination, Zhang Wenhao suddenly felt a surge of confidence.

Early that morning, Zhang Wenhao rode his bicycle to school with an empty backpack. Following the usual routine, the first day of the new term was reserved for collecting textbooks and the new class schedule; formal lessons would begin the following day.

Zhang Wenhao attended Jiangcheng No. 1 High School, a top-ranked institution not only in Jiangcheng but throughout the entire Southern Jiang Province. It boasted the highest university admission rate in the province, and frequently produced both city and provincial examination champions, representing the pinnacle of educational achievement in Southern Jiang. His cousin, Zhang Ranran, was also a student there.

Initially, Zhang Wenhao had no hope of entering Jiangcheng No. 1 High School. His score on the entrance exam was more than sixty points below the required threshold—so far off that even paying a sponsorship fee would not have granted him a place. Without formidable connections or considerable wealth, his academic performance would have consigned him to a second- or third-rate school in Jiangcheng, leaving him no chance of joining this elite institution.

Yet, by some stroke of fate, Zhang Wenhao had managed to enroll. To this day, he had no idea what strings his honest, unassuming parents had pulled, but he'd heard it was thanks to an old comrade of his father from his days in the military. Who exactly it was, Zhang Wenhao still did not know.

During his two and a half years at No. 1 High School, Zhang Wenhao suffered considerable discrimination. His grades were consistently at the bottom of both his class and his grade level. The class teacher, Ma Qianyong, was deeply dissatisfied with him, believing his presence lowered the class's average and often sought to transfer him elsewhere. Yet, despite his poor academic performance, Zhang Wenhao was well-behaved and never caused trouble, making him a model of obedience. Thus, Ma Qianyong’s wishes never materialized.

Stepping into his classroom, Class Three of the Humanities division, Zhang Wenhao found many students already at their desks, chatting about their winter holiday adventures. In this academically focused school, most students kept their distance from Zhang Wenhao, fearful that associating with him might earn them the reputation of being slackers in the eyes of the teachers. As a result, Zhang Wenhao had few friends, and those he did have were also among the lowest performers.

Upon entering, Zhang Wenhao instinctively glanced at the middle seat in the third row, searching for the graceful silhouette that had lingered in his thoughts all winter. She was there, just as he expected, sitting quietly, engrossed in a book titled "The Grave Robber's Journal."

Her name was Su Ruoran.

Within the halls of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School, no girl's reputation could rival Su Ruoran’s. To the entire male population, she was the one and only goddess, radiant with every imaginable halo: exquisite features, a tall and striking figure, an ethereal and refined demeanor, unwaveringly ranked at the top academically, and, it was said, blessed with a prosperous family background. To the common observer, Su Ruoran seemed to possess more heavenly gifts than anyone else.

Zhang Wenhao habitually stole a glance at Su Ruoran, but unexpectedly, she shifted her gaze from the book and met his eyes. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment before Zhang Wenhao quickly looked away, his heart racing.

"Wenhao," his desk mate Li Nan called, standing up and waving him over as Zhang Wenhao entered.

Still flustered from that awkward exchange, Zhang Wenhao greeted Li Nan and hurried to the back of the classroom.

Li Nan and Zhang Wenhao had long been close, mainly because they were notorious partners in adversity—the class’s perennial bottom two. The teacher, concerned they might negatively influence others, had deliberately placed them together in the far corner of the last row.

As Zhang Wenhao took his seat, Li Nan spoke anxiously, "Have you heard? We’re going to be split into new classes this semester!"

"Split into classes?" Zhang Wenhao asked, surprised. "Didn’t we already divide into humanities and sciences in sophomore year? There’s only one semester left—why split again?"

"You don’t understand," Li Nan explained. "Our grade has twenty classes: five humanities and fifteen sciences. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Zhang Wenhao frowned.

Li Nan lowered his voice, indignation in his tone. "Damn this stupid school. To strengthen the learning atmosphere for the final semester, they’re going to take the lowest-ranked students from each class and put them together. Each humanities class sends ten students to form Class Twenty-One; each science class sends five to form Class Twenty-Two."

Zhang Wenhao’s brows knitted in anger. "Isn’t that discrimination? Pulling out the weaker students and isolating them in their own class—it’s outrageous!"

"No choice," Li Nan said, shrugging. "Students like us are seen as the black sheep in every teacher’s eyes. Kick us out, and the class average won’t be dragged down. After the college entrance exam, teachers’ performance evaluations depend on the university admission rate—especially the top-tier admissions. With us around, their chances for promotions and bonuses are affected."

Sighing, Li Nan patted Zhang Wenhao’s shoulder. "Brother, our class is kicking out ten people. Last semester’s mock exam—you were second-to-last, I was dead last. Looks like we’re locked in for Class Twenty-One."

Zhang Wenhao felt a surge of resentment. He despised the practice of some teachers judging students solely by academic performance. In the past, it was just teachers viewing students through tinted lenses, but now the school itself was openly institutionalizing such discrimination. It was hard to accept.

At that moment, their class teacher, Ma Qianyong, strode in. After a month’s absence, his already sparse hair seemed even thinner. He climbed onto the podium, pushed up his glasses, and seeing most students had arrived, began, "Students, the new semester starts today. The college entrance exam is counting down. In this final semester, I hope you’ll devote two hundred percent of your energy, preparing for the exam with all your might, and strive for outstanding results!"

He continued, "This semester, the school will introduce new policies. Let’s take attendance first, then I’ll convey the leadership’s instructions."

Ma Qianyong took roll from his list—eighty-three students. Zhang Wenhao was eighty-second; Li Nan was the last.

Li Nan grumbled, "Damn, even attendance is called in order of academic rank. They don’t even treat low-achieving students as people!"

After roll call, Ma Qianyong addressed the class, "Tomorrow and the day after, we’ll have our first mock exam for the semester. It’s a grade-wide event. To accommodate this, Grades One and Two will delay their opening by two days to provide exam rooms. All faculty from those grades will join Grade Three’s teachers in invigilating, and exam strictness will match the college entrance exam—no books, materials, or communication devices allowed. Any violation will be treated as cheating, and the subject’s grade will be voided."

The class gasped in surprise. No one expected a mock exam right at the start, nor such a grand scale. Clearly, the school was determined to create a high-pressure, intense learning environment from the outset, forcing students out of their lingering holiday mood.

Ma Qianyong signaled for silence, his face animated. "This exam is crucial for everyone, because the results will determine who stays and who goes!"

As confusion spread through the class, Ma Qianyong announced the school’s new class division policy—exactly as Li Nan had described.

Instantly, reactions polarized. Those not in the bottom twenty were thrilled, seeing the removal of underperforming students as a blessing. Meanwhile, those within the bottom twenty were anxious—though only the bottom ten from each humanities class would be sent to Class Twenty-One, no one could guarantee they wouldn’t end up on that list after the next mock exam.

Ma Qianyong then called the ten lowest-ranked students out to help move textbooks from the school storeroom. This further infuriated Li Nan, who whispered to Zhang Wenhao, "Even manual labor is reserved for us underachievers. Ma Qianyong is really something. If I get sent to Class Twenty-One, after graduation I swear I’ll give him a good beating to vent my anger!"

Zhang Wenhao looked at Li Nan’s indignant expression and said helplessly, "Just study hard and get a good score—that’s the best slap in Ma Qianyong’s face!"

Li Nan sighed. "What good score? I can’t learn a damn thing. You’re just like me—our fate in Class Twenty-One is sealed."

—A new author and a new book. It just passed review today, the contract has already been mailed, and I have plenty in reserve. Newcomers need your support. Please, if you could spare a moment for a bookmark or recommendation, even the smallest encouragement is a huge boost for a new writer!