Chapter Eight: Points Reward

The exam results had already been announced. Although the mock exams at this school couldn't compare to the influence of the college entrance examination, Zhang Wenhao thought that earning eighth place in his grade would surely merit some points from the system. Yet, even after waiting the whole morning, the system offered no response.

However, throughout that morning, the news of Zhang Wenhao’s achievement—second in Class Three of the liberal arts track and eighth in the entire grade—began to spread across the whole grade. By the time noon approached, nearly everyone knew, and Zhang Wenhao had suddenly become the hottest topic of conversation. Students were abuzz, speculating about how he managed such a result. The majority, however, preferred to believe he must have used some covert method to cheat.

These rumors, though, had no effect on Zhang Wenhao. What mattered to him was understanding his real capability, and his score proved that his efforts through the past half month had not been in vain.

Close to midday, just before dismissal, a crisp notification unexpectedly sounded in his mind.

"Mock examination successful. Based on the influence generated, the system awards 200 points to the user."

"Yes!" Zhang Wenhao punched the air in excitement, startling Li Nan, who was beside him.

Two hundred points was an absolute delight for Zhang Wenhao! Over the past two weeks, he had repeatedly used the photographic memory skill to study, yet had received only forty points from the system's gifts. Now, a single exam had brought him two hundred points. It seemed that, in the system’s judgment, the impact of using skills during an exam far outweighed quietly studying alone. Two hundred points equaled two months' worth of system rewards. From then on, if he made even better use of his photographic memory, he would surely earn more points. In the super learning system, points were everything!

...

After school, Zhang Wenhao pushed his bicycle through the crowd toward the school gate. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw his cousin Zhang Ranran.

"Wenhao," Ranran said with a smile, "you little trickster, you’ve fooled your big sister for so long."

Zhang Wenhao was puzzled. "What’s the matter, Ranran?"

"Still pretending?" Ranran pouted. "You ranked eighth in the whole grade, just eleven points behind me. If your English had been a bit better, you could have surpassed me. And I was the one worrying about your scores, not knowing you’d been secretly working so hard. That’s not fair."

Zhang Wenhao scratched his head and chuckled. "Ranran, this exam was just an exceptional performance, that’s all."

Ranran feigned disdain. "An exceptional performance, and you got a perfect score in math? By the way, how did you solve that final proof question? Our math teacher said he picked that one from an Olympiad problem collection and even modified it, so it’s not the same as the original. You wouldn’t even find an answer online."

Zhang Wenhao recalled the proof problem—the question was still vivid in his mind. When he worked through it, his thinking had been clear, and he precisely found the most suitable formula to use. He explained the thought process step by step to Ranran.

Ranran listened, mouth agape in astonishment. "Why didn’t I think of using that formula? Wenhao, your brain is something else—I’m really impressed." Then she added, "But your English is dragging your score down. If it weren’t for that, you could’ve been the top scorer this time. You really need to work harder on English."

Zhang Wenhao nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Ranran. I’ll definitely focus more on my English in the future."

Ranran smiled. "Keep it up. I believe you’ll have no problem getting into a top university. Who knows, maybe the two of us will both end up in Yanjing."

Zhang Wenhao knew that Ranran, who studied science, had always admired Huaqing University in Yanjing and set it as her highest goal. He himself had never thought about which university he wanted to attend. Yanjing? Perhaps that would be a good choice too.

Auntie came to pick Ranran up as usual. At the school gate, Zhang Wenhao exchanged a few words with her. With concern, Auntie asked, "Wenhao, were you moved to Class 21 this time? Even if you were, it’s okay. If you work hard in private, you still have a chance in the college entrance exam. Besides, your father is arranging a sponsored place for you, isn’t he? If all else fails, that’s an option too."

Ranran blurted out, "Mom, Wenhao ranked eighth in the whole grade in this mock exam! He gave everyone in the grade a huge shock!"

"What?" Auntie’s eyes went wide in disbelief, as if she’d just heard some outrageous tale. She quickly asked Ranran, "Ranran, what was your rank this time?"

Ranran shrugged. "My math didn’t go well this time—I was sixth in the grade."

Auntie’s face darkened immediately. "Last time you were fifth, now you’ve dropped to sixth. If you don’t take it seriously, you might not even stay in the top ten. Starting today, no TV, no internet until after the college entrance exam!"

"Ah, Mom..." Ranran looked aggrieved and was about to protest when Auntie snapped, "No whining. If you keep it up, your father will have another word with you. Get in the car!"

Zhang Wenhao felt sympathy for Ranran. He was grateful his own parents were never as strict about his studies as his uncle and aunt.

That day, Song Huafang left work an hour early to prepare a lavish meal. It was the day her son’s report card would be issued. She didn’t know how he ranked, but having witnessed his half-month of hard work, she was certain there would be improvement. She made sure to prepare all his favorite dishes as a reward.

His parents got off work earlier than school dismissed, so when Zhang Wenhao returned home, both were waiting. As soon as he entered, he saw the dining table in the living room covered with food he loved—sweet and sour ribs, braised crucian carp, tomato beef stew...

"Mom, is today a holiday? Why so much good food?" Zhang Wenhao asked.

Song Huafang smiled. "I know you got your results today. So, how did you do?"

Zhang Xingping couldn’t help but ask, "Well, son, were you moved to Class 21?"

Zhang Wenhao replied with a smile, "I scored 678, but I requested to transfer to Class 21 myself."

"Oh, 678, not bad," Zhang Xingping nodded absently, then suddenly his eyes widened. "Wait, what did you say? 678? Are you joking? That high? And what a nice round number!"

Zhang Wenhao grinned, "It’s true," and handed over his report card.

"My goodness!" Song Huafang exclaimed, dropping her chopsticks as she read the score. "Son, you really scored 678? If you get that in the college entrance exam, you’ll have your pick of the top universities!"

"It’s true," Zhang Wenhao confirmed.

"Wonderful!" Zhang Xingping slapped his thigh and stood up. "678! Incredible, it’s like a dream. Fantastic!"

Song Huafang then asked, "Wenhao, you said you asked to be transferred to Class 21? Why?"

Zhang Wenhao explained the situation. When his parents heard that Ma Qianyong was so prejudiced against their son, they were both indignant. Song Huafang worried, "Son, Class 21 is known as the remedial class. Will you be able to keep up your studies there?"

Zhang Wenhao replied, "Don’t worry, Mom. I studied on my own during the winter break and my scores improved a lot. Even though Class 21 is for weaker students, the teachers are the same. There’s not much new material in the last semester anyway—most of the focus is on review. I’ll do just fine in Class 21."

Zhang Xingping nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We don’t need to prove ourselves to Ma Qianyong. If he wants to look down on people, so be it. Just do well in the college entrance exam and give him a good slap in the face!"

Just then, Zhang Xingping’s phone rang. He answered, and after a few moments his expression darkened. He spoke sternly, "Fine, I’ll come by this afternoon. But let me be clear: if you don’t have evidence, I expect a proper explanation for my family!"

He hung up and tossed his phone aside, fuming. "That grade director is too much. The first thing he said was that he suspected Wenhao of cheating and insisted I go to the school this afternoon. He hasn’t seen how hard Wenhao’s been studying every night. Just because Wenhao’s scores improved so much, he suspects something’s wrong. He’s no better than Ma Qianyong!"

"I’m coming too," Song Huafang said indignantly. "How dare they suspect my son! We’ll go together and set things straight with them!"