Chapter 17: The Quiz

Upon hearing that Anchen scored nine points on the language exam, Li Jixiang’s first reaction was to assume it was out of ten. Anning solemnly clarified that the language test was out of a hundred. Li Jixiang was stunned.

It made no sense. Just yesterday morning, he had given Anchen a golden grain, a miraculous treasure said to rapidly boost intelligence and physical strength, granting extraordinary wisdom and vigor. After consuming it, Anchen felt so energetic she could conquer heaven and earth—so why did it seem ineffective on the chubby boy?

Could it be that the chubby boy had a mind as dense as wood, rendering the golden grain useless for him?

Exposed by her brother, Anchen was mortified. Her double-lidded eyes darted everywhere, avoiding both Li Jixiang and Anning.

Bicycles and pedestrians kept passing by, all glancing curiously at Li Jixiang and the An brothers. Xingqiu Town was small; most people, though unable to name each other, were at least familiar faces.

Anchen suddenly spotted his father and quickly signaled to Anning. Anning hopped onto his bicycle and tilted his head, asking Li Jixiang if he wanted a ride. Li Jixiang was tempted—he was on the verge of being late, and getting punished for it would be entirely pointless.

But there was only one rear seat, which Anchen occupied securely. She wanted to ride, but there was simply no space.

She hurriedly declined, thanking Anning for his offer.

Anning frowned and turned back, instructing Anchen to sit on the front crossbar, leaving the rear seat for Li Jixiang.

Anchen hesitated; when his father had taken him and his mother cycling, he’d once sat on the front crossbar, which had left his bottom sore.

“Hurry up.”

As Li Jixiang declined again, Anning urged him. Anchen awkwardly moved one leg aside, and Anning lifted him off the ground, once more inviting Li Jixiang to hop on.

Li Jixiang was not one to miss an opportunity—never one to harm others to his own detriment, and always ready to seize an advantage.

He deftly sat sideways on the bicycle’s rear seat, one foot lightly touching the ground. Anchen was also pulled up onto the front crossbar by Anning, sitting sideways and steady.

Anning pedaled like he had wheels of fire beneath him, racing forward and, amid the whistles of a few boys, dashed to the entrance of Xingqiu Town Elementary and Middle School.

Watching Li Jixiang and Anchen walk side by side into the school, he stood unmoving, as steady as a mountain, eyes fixed on the figure in the floral shirt disappearing into a classroom.

Li Jixiang entered the classroom just as the bell rang for class. Head down, eyes straight, she walked to the last seat and sat.

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Brushing off Ma Hongmei’s attempt to grab her hand, she behaved as demurely as a maiden of old.

Keeping a low profile was the best way to avoid attention—the truly wealthy were always invisible. If not for her vendetta against Chen Hao’an, she would never have revealed her identity as the young richest woman in Port City.

After the bell rang for class, footsteps echoed in the hallway. The sound of iron-studded heels scraping against the cement was unmistakable. Class Four of Grade Six was in the last room of a row of teaching bungalows, and the metallic footsteps were clearly heading toward their classroom.

She glanced at the timetable in her pencil box—the first lesson was language.

The rhythmic “ding ding” of footsteps stopped at the classroom door, and a man coughed twice.

It was the school’s Director of Instruction. His gaze swept across the classroom like a searchlight before he cleared his throat.

“Your homeroom teacher, Mr. Zhang, has taken leave. This lesson will be a self-study period. Where’s the class monitor? The class monitor is in charge of discipline. If anyone breaks the rules, report immediately to my office.”

Summoned to uphold classroom discipline, class monitor Huang Li promptly stood straight and responded. The director nodded at her, then strode away on his “ding ding” old leather shoes.

Huang Li was short, with an exceptionally tiny mouth—“cherry lips” described her perfectly. Her lips protruded a bit, resembling a bird’s beak, and her voice was like a chirping bird, earning her the nickname “Kingfisher.” She loved tattling and was skilled at currying favor with teachers, a talent passed down from her mother.

“Everyone, turn to page seventeen of your exercise book and complete the fill-in-the-blank and reading comprehension questions.”

“I don’t have an exercise book.”

Ma Hongmei raised her hand. Only she and Li Jixiang hadn’t bought an exercise book; the two desk-mates couldn’t even share one.

“If you don’t have it, use the textbook. Do you need to ask? Idiot!”

Huang Li rolled her eyes at Ma Hongmei and, with her frail little frame, walked back to her seat.

Ma Hongmei didn’t mind being called an idiot. She admitted she was slow-witted, and besides that, poor. She had no real ambitions—only hoped to grow up quickly and earn money to support her family.

Her desk-mate’s humiliation felt personal to Li Jixiang; that eye roll from Huang Li was clearly directed at her as well. But she didn’t want to spar with Huang Li now—arguing was a waste of time and accomplished nothing.

The family motto in the Li household was always: build prosperity through hard work.

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Huang Li’s arrogance stemmed entirely from her status as the top student in the entire grade. To bring her down was simple—just dethrone her from first place and keep her from ever rising again.

During the second period, politics, the teacher’s words went in one ear and out the other for Li Jixiang. She was busy transferring rice from her wealth base’s granary.

She seemed to share a psychic link with Grandma Li; whenever Grandma sold a sack of rice, her thoughts would automatically replenish the granary with another sack.

The last class of the morning was mathematics. Teacher Ren entered carrying a stack of exam papers.

“Today we’ll have a math quiz—all calculation and application questions. I’ll grade them on the spot. Any mistakes must be corrected immediately, until you get them right.”

“If someone never gets it right, does that mean they can’t go home for lunch?”

Teacher Ren had each row’s first student pass the papers back, indifferent to the students’ rebellious murmurs.

The test was two sheets of large paper, the ink somewhat blurry. He rubbed his balding head and explained the unclear parts to the students, finally asking, “Anyone still unclear about the questions?”

Ma Hongmei looked at the last page, where two crookedly printed bonus questions sat, opened her mouth, and closed it again.

She knew perfectly well that even if she asked, she still wouldn’t be able to solve them. Tilting her head, she noticed Li Jixiang writing furiously, her disbelief growing as she stared at Li Jixiang’s answers.

“You shouldn’t just write anything if you don’t know…”

Ma Hongmei muttered softly.

Li Jixiang had no time for her. Since the teacher said whoever finished first could submit their paper and, if it was error-free, go home immediately, she was determined to seize every second. The sooner she could buy a bicycle and ride home to count her money, the thought alone made her giddy.

After finishing one sheet, Li Jixiang noticed Ma Hongmei chewing her pen, lost in thought. She deliberately pushed her completed paper toward Ma Hongmei’s hand.

Ma Hongmei didn’t believe Li Jixiang could solve the problems, but at least her paper was filled in—which was better than Ma Hongmei, who couldn’t write a single answer no matter how hard she tried.

Ma Hongmei wasn’t adept at solving problems, but she was quite skilled at copying answers. She pressed Li Jixiang’s paper with her elbow, fiddled with her messy hair with her left hand, stole glances at the answers question by question, and copied them rapidly onto her own paper.