024 The Entangling Principal’s Daughter

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After Yang Tang had gleaned enough information from Lü Qin, he paid no further heed to the matter of Zhan Song’s broken leg. Aside from the two remaining mock exams, he had no intention of returning to school at all.

Every city had its own customs: some conducted two unified mock exams before the college entrance examination, others three. The first mock in his school had already been held at the end of the first semester of the final year; the second was due in mid-March, the third in mid-April—both would be city-wide assessments.

In other words, so long as Yang Tang reviewed (or studied) enough to manage those two mock exams and the final college entrance exam, he would be fine. His expectations for his score were not high: out of a total of 750 points for the five subjects, he only needed 550. That might not meet last year’s average admission score for Mist University in their city, but it was above the minimum threshold—enough, at least, to give his parents some peace of mind.

But after several days of studying at home, Yang Tang was astonished to discover that his second foreign language, French, could now yield him over eighty points on any random practice paper. Previously, he would have considered himself lucky to guess his way to forty points; now his score had more than doubled, an almost criminal leap, as if those students who had truly toiled over their textbooks counted for nothing.

“What a sin, what a sin… This isn’t my own skill, really. It’s that Ryota Murakami’s freakish memory!”

After a brief prayer by the window, Yang Tang sat down to analyze things calmly. He realized that, on a 150-point test, scoring just over eighty was nothing to brag about.

In fact, foreign language exams for the college entrance test could be roughly divided into three parts.

First were the rote memorization questions, testing vocabulary. In his previous life, these made up just under ninety points of the test, a little over eighty; so with hard work, passing was not an issue. In this world, those questions made up about half the test, and Yang Tang’s eighty-odd points came from mastering those seventy-five, plus a few correct guesses on the reading comprehension.

The comprehension questions required a bit more thinking, and made up the second largest portion—around fifty points, ranging from easy to difficult, but never exceeding the material in the textbook.

For each year’s exam, the first two parts together totaled about 135 points. The last fifteen points were for the truly tough questions, those that distinguished the best students, often requiring knowledge that extended beyond the textbook.

Given these features, Yang Tang concluded that, as long as he continued to reinforce his foundation, the comprehension section shouldn’t be a problem either. It was not unreasonable to expect around 120 in both English and French, maybe even 130.

Then there was history—a subject Yang Tang would have to study in earnest, though it too required plenty of memorization, which played to his current strengths.

So, for the next week, apart from his daily, unshakable hour of mathematics, Yang Tang poured all his energy into an intensive push on his two foreign languages.

By the end of February, his self-assessment in English and French hovered just over 100, nearly 110.

“The only place I can still make big gains is history. I need to set aside a week to really study the 'Comprehensive History of China'!”

His reason for reading the comprehensive history was that he wanted to take this opportunity to fully understand the peculiarities of China in this world. If he stuck to just the textbook, he’d finish it in three days at most.

Thus, on another Sunday evening, Yang Tang sought out his father.

“Dad!”

“Yes?”

“Can I borrow your library card tomorrow?”

“What for? Planning to go to the university library?” Yang Jixue frowned. “Have you finished your own textbooks? Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

“I want to read the comprehensive history—it’ll help me with my history exam...”

“Well, all right, take it, but don’t lose it!” With that, Yang Jixue went to his study, rummaged for a while, and finally handed Yang Tang a little blue card.

“Thank you, Dad!”

The next day, Yang Tang went alone to the Mist University Library. After presenting the library card, the registration clerk—a young woman—also asked him for his social security number; once she’d confirmed he was a family member, she let him enter the catalog room.

He found an available computer, powered it on, and entered the card number. The screen soon switched to a special faculty search page.

Yang Tang searched for comprehensive histories, and soon a series of old-edition reference books appeared—ones invisible on the student search page. He didn’t look for anything obscure, just selected an available, six-volume set titled “Detailed Comprehensive History of China,” and locked it for borrowing.

He then left the search room and headed for the reading room in the east wing.

******

“Huh?”

On the road beneath the corridor leading to the east wing, He Jiani—now restored to her former radiant self—had just gotten into her Mini Cooper to leave, when she caught a glimpse of a back that looked familiar.

“That boy’s back—I’ve seen it somewhere before. Strange, why can’t I recall who it is?”

He Jiani was a graduate of Mist University’s journalism department and currently a postgraduate student. She had great faith in her memory, especially for faces.

“Hmph, if I can’t remember, I’ll just go say hello. That should jog my memory!” With a stubborn resolve, He Jiani got out of her car and walked back toward the east wing she’d just left.

Unfortunately, she was too slow. The boy with the familiar back had already entered the reading room a few steps ahead of her.

“Let’s see where you run to now.”

Confidently, He Jiani strode up to the reading room entrance—only to be stumped. The room was filled with men and women quietly reading, not a single familiar back to be seen.

“Oh, this temper of mine! I don’t believe it!”

Flashing her library card, He Jiani went straight to the female administrator she knew. “Junior, did a boy just come in to borrow books? You know who I mean, right?”

The administrator paused, then teased, “Sister Ni, a lot of boys borrow books here. Which one are you asking about?”

“Oh, come on! Just now—less than half a minute before me…”

“Oh, you mean him? He went to the faculty section.”

“Faculty section? You’re not kidding me?”

“Why would I lie? If you don’t believe me, check the surveillance.”

He Jiani glared at her, skeptical, and headed for the faculty area.

The faculty section, at the far end of the reading room, was about half full, mostly with young lecturers and a few gray-haired professors. But before she could scan for familiar backs, her eyes were drawn to someone sitting in the farthest corner.

“He’s turning pages so fast—must be looking for something specific. Wow, already on the second volume!” Watching him skim through the book, He Jiani couldn’t help but smile. “Really, if you want to show off, you don’t need to come to the faculty section. Wait a second… those broad shoulders…”

Growing suspicious, she crept around to get a better look at the reader from behind.

******

With “Detailed Comprehensive History of China” in hand, Yang Tang found a seat at random. After a few pages, he keenly sensed someone watching him. He didn’t let it show, and soon finished the first volume, which covered history before the Western Zhou.

As in his previous life, history before the Jin dynasty lacked official written records—most of it was scholars’ conjecture, based on later sources, so Yang Tang simply absorbed the main points.

The second volume was similar, covering the Western Zhou, Eastern Zhou, the Spring and Autumn, the Warring States, and the Qin and Han dynasties. But as he reached the section on the Seven Warring States, he felt someone circle behind him, staring intently.

Abruptly, Yang Tang spun around and asked, with unexpected directness, “Hey, what are you staring at?” Only then did he recognize He Jiani’s face—beautiful, yes, but more importantly, somewhat familiar. He paused instinctively.

He Jiani had already thought his back familiar, but seeing his profile, she still couldn’t place him—until Yang Tang’s startled expression triggered a flash of recognition.

“Hey, Lei Feng, it really is you!”

Her exclamation drew the instant, hostile attention of everyone quietly reading nearby.

Embarrassed, Yang Tang hastily gathered his books, grabbed He Jiani by the wrist, and dragged her out the faculty section’s side door.

Outside, Yang Tang shook her off and walked away, but He Jiani eagerly followed, exclaiming, “I finally found you…”

“Who are you? I don’t know you.”

“Oh, cut it out. Are you saying you’re not Lei Feng?” With that, she blocked his way in the corridor.

“I’m not Lei Feng—‘Lei Feng’ is an insult…”

“There you go again! I checked online—there’s no one called Lei Feng in this district. If you’re not Lei Feng, how do you even know it’s an insult?”

Now Yang Tang realized he’d brought trouble on himself. Flustered, he snapped, “So what if I am? What can you do, eat me?”

“I don’t want to eat you—I want to buy you dinner, how about that?”

“No time.”

“Then I’ll…”

“I said, no time.”

“Then when will you have time?” He Jiani started to act cute.

But Yang Tang was unmoved. “Why should I tell you?”

“Hmph! Since you can get into the faculty section, you must at least be family of someone at Mist University. And as for me—heh—my father is He Yuanhong. Want to bet I’ll show up at your house for lunch?”

Yang Tang had heard the name of Mist University’s president, He Yuanhong. Coming from her, the threat was real—she could indeed show up at his home for a meal.

Realizing this, Yang Tang switched tactics. “Senior, the college entrance exam is only a few months away. Please, don’t waste my time, all right?”

“Oh… fine, you get back to your studies. But give me your name and phone number. I’ll invite you another time!” He Jiani was magnanimous.

Left with no choice, Yang Tang obediently complied.

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