Chapter Six: Another Slap!

Examinations are a psychological ordeal for every high school student. Anxiety brews before the test, confidence falters during, and unease lingers after, as they await unknown results. If one were to choose the most detested word among high schoolers, surely "examination" would top the list.

Even the best-performing students are uneasy about their scores: did they perform at their usual level? Are their rivals, those ranked similarly, secretly making strides and surpassing them? Might their own ranking slip? Because of this common anxiety, when Zhang Wenhao arrived at school the following day, he found few cheerful faces in the classroom. Everyone wore a grave expression, whispering nervously to one another—everyone except a single person.

That person was Su Ruoran. She sat at her desk, engrossed in her copy of "Grave Robbers’ Chronicles." She must have reached a particularly thrilling passage, for her delicate brows were furrowed, her eyes alight with anticipation and tension. Unconsciously, she nibbled her lower lip with her upper teeth.

As Zhang Wenhao passed by her, he stole a couple of glances, feeling an indescribable emotion stir within him.

Zhang Wenhao could not deny his fondness for Su Ruoran, but honestly, what boy at Jiangcheng No. 1 High could? Admiration for beauty is universal, especially when it concerns a girl so seemingly perfect. Her popularity was inevitable. Yet, Zhang Wenhao’s feelings were pure, free of possessiveness; he had never once fantasized about being with her. This quiet affection never troubled him; rather, he enjoyed it, willingly letting his unspent emotions rest upon Su Ruoran.

As the bell for morning reading sounded, the class sat restlessly, awaiting the arrival of Ma Qianyong and, with him, the dreaded grade reports.

Su Ruoran, in contrast, merely closed her novel with a gentle snap and slipped it into her desk.

No sooner had the bell faded than Ma Qianyong stormed into the room, his face like thunder.

His expression, as sour as though plagued by some private misery, made it clear his mood was foul.

A dreadful day.

Yes, a dreadful day!

The moment Ma Qianyong received the summary grade sheets, he knew his day was ruined. On the contrary, he felt as though his liver might burst from rage.

With a sharp slap, Ma Qianyong threw the thick stack of grade sheets onto the lectern, startling the entire class.

He composed himself, smoothed the few remaining strands of hair on his head, and said coldly, "The classroom for Class 21 is ready. The old storeroom on the third floor has been converted for them. I’ll now read out the names of those reassigned to Class 21. If your name is called, pack your things and report to your new class immediately."

He picked up the grade sheets, expressionless. "Li Nan!"

"Damn!" Li Nan, seated beside Zhang Wenhao, cursed under his breath. "I knew I’d be on that list."

"Sun Jian, Chang Xiaoqiang, Wu Fei, Chen Zhongze..." One by one, the others called didn’t hesitate; they gathered their belongings and left. Only Li Nan, the first named, remained unmoving. When Ma Qianyong reached the eighth name, he shot Li Nan an irritated glance. "Li Nan, why are you still here? You’re no longer in Class Three. Go report to Teacher Song in Class 21!"

Li Nan, knowing he’d already been reassigned, saw no reason to fear Ma Qianyong. He raised his voice in retort, "What’s the matter, Baldy Ma? I want to wait for my friend so we can go together—got a problem with that?"

Everyone knew that "friend" referred to Zhang Wenhao, seated beside him.

Ma Qianyong, already angered by Li Nan’s defiance, grew even more furious at his words. But what truly incensed him was one burning question: "How on earth did that scoundrel Zhang Wenhao manage to rank second in the class?!"

Yet, rules were rules: the bottom ten students in the class would be reassigned to Class 21. Though he doubted the legitimacy of Zhang Wenhao’s results—and dearly wished to expel him from his class—he couldn’t act without proof. All he could do was investigate thoroughly; once he found evidence of cheating, Zhang Wenhao would be the eleventh to go.

With this in mind, Ma Qianyong refrained from lashing out at Li Nan. Instead, he quickly read out the remaining names and, slamming the desk, pointed at Li Nan. "Satisfied now? Out you go!"

Li Nan looked bewilderedly from Ma Qianyong to Zhang Wenhao, his surprise plain: "Why wasn’t Zhang Wenhao named?"

At that moment, a girl named Wang Huan lay sobbing at her desk. When the ninth name had been read, she’d breathed a sigh of relief, certain the tenth would be Zhang Wenhao and that she’d been spared. Yet, to her dismay, the last name was not Zhang Wenhao, but her own.

Being sent to Class 21 was a mark of failure, a humiliation that made it impossible to hold one’s head high before the whole school. She wept bitterly, but the rest of the class paid her no mind. Nearly every student was silently asking themselves: Why not Zhang Wenhao?

Just then, Zhang Wenhao stood up and said coolly, "I’ll transfer to Class 21; let Wang Huan stay."

The classroom erupted in confusion. What was going on?

Ma Qianyong, face like ice, said, "What heroics are you trying to pull? Do you think this will help you avoid investigation? The school’s rules are clear: Your grades are not in the bottom ten, so you may remain for now. But your results are highly suspicious. If you’re found to have cheated, you’ll be expelled—not just to Class 21, but from the school entirely!"

Zhang Wenhao snorted with disdain. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, strode up to the podium, and, to Ma Qianyong’s astonishment, snatched the grade sheets from his hand. The first was Su Ruoran’s; the second bore his own name. He had indeed placed second in the entire class!

Chinese: 132, Mathematics: 150, English: 96, Liberal Arts Comprehensive: 300. Total score: 678. Second in class, eighth in the grade.

First place, as expected, was Su Ruoran.

Chinese: 143, Mathematics: 146, English: 145, Liberal Arts Comprehensive: 279. Total score: 713. First in class, first in the grade.

After confirming his results, Zhang Wenhao took his own sheet, slapped the rest onto the podium, and, with open contempt, said to Ma Qianyong, "Sorry to disappoint you again. As I said, even if you begged me on your knees, I wouldn’t stay in Class Three. Today, I’m proving my word!"

With that, and under the stunned gaze of the entire class, Zhang Wenhao walked out. At the door, he turned back, slapped the open door, and called out to Li Nan in the corner, "What are you waiting for? Let’s go, brother."