013 The First Champion

Lin Xia had been confident about the results from the start, so her expression now was calm and unruffled. After all, she was a college graduate—even if it was just a third-rate university, it was still a university. With a little review, the knowledge of the first year of middle school was easy to master, and scoring full marks wasn't difficult.

While Old Yang was praising Lin Xia, on the other side, Ren Jie, Lin Jing, and Ren Xia were utterly stunned.

Even though Lin Xia had reviewed, to actually score first in the class was simply unbelievable.

Ren Jie had grown up playing with Lin Xia since childhood and knew her math skills inside out. Lin Xia’s overall grades had always been above average, with her Chinese being slightly stronger and nothing particularly outstanding in the other subjects. Moreover, mathematics had always been her weakest. Yet somehow, she had quietly achieved first place in the class.

This was simply unimaginable!

Lin Xia had no idea what her friends were thinking. She sat quietly at her desk, head lowered over her textbook, and only when Old Yang finished speaking did she stand up to collect her test paper.

“Though you did well this time, the test was quite simple. You must guard against arrogance and impatience. Strive to do well again next time,” Old Yang advised. Having taught for over a decade, he knew the balance of encouragement and caution.

He praised her first and then gave her a word of warning.

Lin Xia nodded, “I will, sir.”

Seeing her neither proud nor impatient, Old Yang was even more pleased, his wrinkled face breaking into a broad, chrysanthemum-like smile. “Academics are important, but so is health. You must remember that a healthy body is the foundation! Next time, don’t sacrifice rest for the sake of study.”

Watching Old Yang’s radiant grin, Lin Xia first felt a chill, then a gentle warmth of gratitude. This was what a real teacher should be: rejoicing in a student’s excellence and troubled by their missteps.

As she accepted her paper and turned back, Lin Xia glanced over the class. The faces she saw were still so innocent and unknowing of the world. One day, when they entered society, they would realize just how good their junior high teachers had been.

She herself, Lin Xia, only began to miss those days after going to high school and university.

Fortunately, heaven had shown her mercy—she had been reborn.

She could once again experience this pure kindness, to deeply treasure these quarrels and laughter, to write them into her heart and onto the pages of her life.

A gentle feeling slowly seeped into Lin Xia’s heart; she had never felt the world so clean.

All the vanity faded away, leaving only a faint fragrance, gently dispersing in the air.

As time flowed softly by, Lin Xia slowly closed her eyes, and the dust that had settled in her heart was washed away, layer by layer, by the pure sound of the classroom.

“This test wasn’t difficult—it was all basic questions, yet many of you didn’t do well. Look over your papers and see where you went wrong. Now, let’s look at the first multiple-choice question. I explained this one in class; I really don’t understand why anyone got it wrong.” Old Yang turned to write on the blackboard. Ren Jie poked Lin Xia with her pen.

“Hey, let me see your paper.”

Lin Xia handed her paper over her shoulder, tilting her head slightly. “Didn’t you do well this time too?”

Ren Jie wrinkled her nose, glanced at the blackboard, and whispered, “That’s mostly thanks to you. If I’d done it alone, I’d have scored at most eighty.”

Lin Xia thought for a moment. “If you spend less time on those magazines—like Spark, Young Boys and Girls—and read more books, do more problems, you’ll naturally get higher marks. These questions are all basic, not hard at all.”

Ren Jie considered this, about to reply, when Old Yang turned around. She quickly fell silent.

When the bell rang, Li Jing and Ren Xia got up, gathered around Ren Jie, and passed Lin Xia’s paper between them.

“Nicely done, Lin Xia. Without a word, you took first place in the class. You have to treat us now,” Li Jing teased.

Ren Jie chimed in, “Exactly, treat us! I want chocolate.”

Ren Xia added, “Hey, you two have no ambition. At the very least, we should get a five-cent ice cream.”

“Right, I want a Yellow Rose,” said Li Jing, who liked pineapple flavor.

“I want Black Rose,” said Ren Jie, who preferred chocolate.

“I want Little Pudding,” said Ren Xia, who favored cream.

Sunlight streamed through the cracked window, casting a warm golden glow on Ren Jie’s animated face.

Lin Xia pressed her lips into a smile. “Alright, I’ll apply to my mom for funds. If there’s a reward, one ice cream each.”

In truth, Lin Xia didn’t actually take her paper home.

Once home, Lin Xia crawled under her bed and pulled out a small metal tin labeled Biscuits.

Yes, this was Lin Xia’s private little treasure chest.

After a struggle to pry it open, she counted and recounted the money inside, then flopped onto her bed in defeat.

Twelve yuan, fifty cents, and one cent.

Lying on her pillow, she gazed at the one-cent coin in her hand—incredibly, her treasure chest still held a one-cent piece, a true antique.

She took out two yuan, counted the rest once more, stacked it neatly into the tin, and slid it back under the bed.

This was all she had; she couldn’t let her mother find it and confiscate it.

With the two yuan in her pocket, after lunch break, Lin Xia bought four ice creams at school, giving the last one to her deskmate, Yang Yanju.

Eating too many of these ice creams wasn’t good for your health; Lin Xia only started to change this habit in college.

Back in middle and high school, she’d loved them—eating three in a row without drawing breath.

After evening study, she went home, took a quick shower, checked on the two pots of plants she’d been experimenting with on the balcony, then returned to her room.

She switched on the desk lamp, briefly reviewed what the teachers had covered that day, and then opened Dream of the Red Chamber to read in detail.

In her previous life, though she liked reading, it was mostly online novels. She’d always avoided the dense, classical literature of the old masters—not because she disliked it, but because it was mentally taxing compared to light web fiction. The language was concise, the cast of characters endless; by the time you reached the back, you’d forgotten who appeared at the start.

Besides, Lin Xia had a particular reading habit—she was meticulous, reading every word and striving to understand every character, so she naturally kept her distance from the classic novels with so many characters.

Now, with no other novels around, Lin Xia took out the few remaining books at home.

Moreover, she had time now to study the relationships of the characters in these masterpieces.

Being able to calmly read ancient texts would be very helpful in cultivating her own writing style.

She opened the book and read: “This is the opening of the first chapter. The author himself says… Though today’s house is thatched, with rickety beds and simple kitchens, the breeze, the moon, the willows along the steps, the flowers in the courtyard…”

She’d only read the first paragraph and was already stumped.

What did “thatched house with rickety beams” mean? And how was the character for “window” pronounced?

Lin Xia found a blank notebook and wrote the term down.

She sighed inwardly; to become a writer and make a living from it—now she could see it wasn’t so easy!

Well, a thousand-mile building rises from the ground. She’d better lay a solid foundation.

After all, she had the time now, and she had the will.