Discussion is merely idle chatter.

As usual, the triple plea! Begging for votes, recommendations, and bookmarks!!

Yang Tang, crouched in his wheelchair, chatted idly with Doctor Yan while keeping an eye on the already solidified Dodge skill.

Dodge 1 had about a thirty percent chance to evade melee attacks by standing motionless; the probability varied depending on the opponent's strength, and in some cases, even absolute evasion was possible. When activating Dodge, the body would exhibit strange contortions. The skill was passive and could be triggered instantly, even during an attack.

Yang Tang wasn’t surprised to see that this version of Dodge was slightly different from the Amazon's in the original game. After all, none of the skills he’d acquired so far were exactly the same as those from his dreams.

Now, his only concern was figuring out how to level up Dodge in the absence of Diablo II’s skill grinding platform. How was he supposed to upgrade it?

With that thought in mind, Yang Tang became even more curious about the dodge rate of Dodge 2.

In less than a second, an answer came to him: Dodge 2 had about a fifty percent chance to evade melee attacks by standing motionless.

“That much of an increase?!”

Yang Tang was startled by the answer from his insight, and his sudden exclamation also startled Doctor Yan behind him.

“Increase in what?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just estimating my score. Maybe I can get a 130 in French!”

“Really? Then let me congratulate you in advance!” To be honest, Doctor Yan’s response betrayed her age. If she were a girl closer to Yang Tang’s age, her reply would probably have been something like, “As if I believe you,” or “Keep dreaming.”

“Thanks for your kind words. Now I feel much more confident.”

“Who are you calling little brother!” Doctor Yan chided him.

“Of course, yours. Don’t you want a little brother like me?”

“You and your glib tongue!”

When they reached the school gate, it was a sea of parents, a dense crowd. Sitting in the wheelchair, Yang Tang couldn’t easily stand up, and Doctor Yan struggled to get him to a hospital van—a large eleven-seater.

Of course, these services from the hospital were not free. The daily rate wasn’t much less than renting a Mercedes. But to reassure his parents, Yang Tang had no choice but to agree to use the hospital’s vehicle.

In the van, his parents were waiting. As soon as his wheelchair arrived, Yang Jixue hurried down to help him onto the vehicle.

Once the car started moving, his mother asked with concern, “Xiaohong, do you want to get some sleep? The doctor said that until the cause of your illness is found, you should sleep in short intervals—best to wake you up every hour or two, have you do something else, then let you sleep again.”

Yang Tang was at a loss for words, but had to admit that the doctor’s strategy did interfere with his “dreaming,” inadvertently helping to suppress his “strange illness.”

For the afternoon math exam, Yang Tang felt he did quite well. Except for two and a half major problems where he used college-level calculus, the rest of the big questions were a breeze. He didn’t bother to think about the multiple-choice questions and simply used his Eagle Eye Choice. Only about a third of the fill-in-the-blank questions gave him pause, but he simply filled them out according to his own understanding, not leaving any blank.

In less than seventy minutes, Yang Tang once again became the first to hand in his paper in the special exam room.

That night, Yang Tang finally managed to coax his worried mother to sleep before settling down to ponder the matter of suppressing his sense of smell. It wasn’t until the dead of night, when his mother didn’t wake up, that he finally drifted off himself.

The next morning was the Chinese language exam. Yang Tang answered quickly as usual, and in less than forty minutes, only the final essay remained.

The topic was not difficult:

“In the past decade, Westerners have occasionally achieved success in Chinese poetry or traditional music competitions, sometimes winning considerable accolades. Many young Western authors' books frequently appear on Chinese bestseller lists. This demonstrates that Westerners are striving to learn Chinese culture. Yet, it is an undeniable fact that few Chinese youths win awards in Western cultural competitions, such as piano or opera, and new Eastern books barely attract readers in the West. Please analyze these two contrasting phenomena and write an argumentative essay of at least 800 words.”

An argumentative essay!?

Yang Tang was somewhat surprised by this year’s essay topic. Usually, the college entrance exam allows for any prose form except poetry, making it easier for students to express themselves freely and avoid stifling their thoughts. Otherwise, a nervous student might find their mind blank, struggling for a long time to write a few words. In fact, this is a kind of mental torment, no less grueling than the infamous tiger bench or chili water.

By contrast, Uncle Yang Tang not only had an excellent memory, but also more life experience than his peers, giving him a clearer worldview and logical thinking. Naturally, his argumentative essays could draw from a broader range and touch upon more points.

As the saying goes, the more one knows, the more comprehensive one’s perspective. This ensures that his essay wouldn’t shoot wide of the mark—he would always manage to hit the point somewhere.

Thus, after carefully considering the essay prompt once again, Yang Tang organized his thoughts and began writing as if inspired, quickly weaving together his arguments around the central theme.

Meanwhile, in the car of the city’s Director of Education—

“Grandpa, why do you insist on coming to the Experimental Middle School? This is a key examination site—everyone’s watching!”

“Can’t an old man like me come to this school just to borrow a restroom?” Yan Yunsong glared at Song Chushi.

“Borrow a restroom?” Song Chushi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Can’t you pick another time?”

“Pick another time? When nature calls, am I supposed to miss the two and a half days of the exam? Are you trying to make me hold it in and suffer?”

Faced with his grandfather’s nonsense, Song Chushi could only smile helplessly, directing the driver through the crowd and into the school grounds.

Getting out of the car, he ignored the vice principal who rushed over, sweating, and instead asked a security guard, “Where’s your music building?”

Song Chushi suddenly realized, feeling both amused and exasperated. “Grandpa, didn’t you say you wanted to borrow—” Before he could finish, he received a fierce glare from his grandfather and had to ask the vice principal, “Oh, by the way, is the special exam room in your music building?”

“Yes, yes, this way!” The vice principal hurriedly led the way.

Meanwhile, Yang Tang’s essay was nearing its conclusion. On the test paper, he wrote:

“Thus, the responsibility of today does not fall to others, but lies entirely with us, the youth. If the youth are wise, the nation is wise; if the youth are strong, the nation is strong. If the youth surpass Europe, the nation surpasses Europe; if the youth are mighty in the world, the nation is mighty in the world.”

Just as he wrote this, Old Yan entered quietly, tiptoeing to stand behind Yang Tang’s desk, completely blocking Doctor Yan’s view. Fortunately, Song Chushi and the vice principal, who followed, managed to keep everyone else silent, including Doctor Yan.

In fact, Song Chushi and Old Yan should be even more grateful that after a night of experimentation, Yang Tang had finally found a way to block his sense of smell; otherwise, with Old Yan standing so close, he might instinctively have used his Scarred Strike.

“The sun rises bright, its path illuminated. The river bursts forth in torrents, surging vast and mighty. The hidden dragon soars in the abyss, scales and claws unfurled. The young tiger roars in the valley, shaking all beasts in fear. The eagle tests its wings, the wind and dust converge. Strange flowers bud, splendid and majestic. The sword is honed, its edge revealed. Heaven covers with blue, earth bears yellow. Through the ages, across the eight directions. The future is boundless, the days lie ahead. Glorious are the youth of China, as eternal as the sky! Majestic are the youth of China, as limitless as the nation itself!”

These were words of pure praise—optional in an argumentative essay, but Uncle Yang Tang, ever the pragmatist who believed that flattering others cost him nothing, decided to include the most florid passage from “On Young China” in his essay.

Old Yan, witnessing Yang Tang finish the passage, was so moved he nearly shouted out his approval on the spot.

Song Chushi, noticing his grandfather trembling all over, hurried to his side and silently mouthed, “What’s wrong, Grandpa?”

Old Yan pointed to Yang Tang’s essay and shakily gave a thumbs up.

“Is it really that good?”

Song Chushi raised his eyebrows in disbelief and craned his neck to read Yang Tang’s essay. The first half was solid and steady, flawless but not particularly outstanding. Yet, from the line “Thus, the responsibility of today does not fall to others” onward, the whole essay suddenly shone, becoming brilliant and grand in style.

“Excellent!”

Without thinking, Song Chushi blurted out his praise, drawing the attention of everyone in the exam room. Old Yan immediately scolded, “Excellent, my foot! You’re disturbing the candidates!” He pulled Song Chushi out of the room, face dark as thunder.

The proctors stared at each other, until a junior police officer reminded the students, “Don’t look around, focus on your exams!” He even glared at Yang Tang.

Yang Tang smiled helplessly and beckoned a proctor over, whispering, “Sir, I’d like to hand in my paper.”

The proctor was unfazed, even a little curious, and took Yang Tang’s Chinese exam paper, quickly flipping to the essay at the end.

As usual, Yang Tang was wheeled out of the exam room by Doctor Yan, leaving the music building and heading toward the school gate.

On the way, Doctor Yan, who had glanced at the essay topic, asked curiously, “What did you write for your essay?”

Yang Tang smiled, “Oh, nothing much, just some empty words of praise.”

“Like what?”

“Like what?” Yang Tang pretended not to understand.

“You mean you don’t know? You just wrote it—don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”

“Of course not,” Yang Tang replied with a wry smile. “But there’s no need to recite it now, is there?”

“What if your older sister wants to hear it?” Doctor Yan, poker-faced, turned his own teasing from yesterday back on him.

Yang Tang was at a loss, and said with a bitter smile, “Fine, fine, I’ll recite a bit: Thus, the responsibility of today does not fall to others, but lies entirely with us, the youth. If the youth are wise, the nation is wise; if the youth are strong, the nation is strong…”

“Very nice!” Doctor Yan’s eyes sparkled, but after waiting a while and hearing nothing more, she asked, “That’s it?”