Jiang Qihuai’s predictions were extremely precise. Every question that required memorization, as well as the obscure characters on the test paper, were basically all within the range he had marked out for her.

In the past, when Tao Zhi wrote Chinese exams, she was always too lazy to bother. Unlike other subjects, Chinese had so many words to write, and it was especially tiring. In the end, there was still that essay that had to exceed the eight-hundred-word line.

It was both a mental and physical torment.

She hadn’t been this focused while taking an exam for a long time.

She read every question, tried to answer every one, and for the essay, she carefully analyzed the writing form. Recalling the paragraph structure templates she had used back in junior high—introduce the theme in the opening, expand the argument in the middle, summarize and express emotion in the ending—she smoothly finished writing.

When she set down her pen, there were still a few minutes left before the exam ended. Almost no one in the class was still writing; the rows ahead of her were full of heads lying on desks, fast asleep.

Tao Zhi flexed her slightly sore fingers, then rolled her neck. She caught Song Jiang, who sat in the row beside hers, staring at her with a shocked expression.

Tao Zhi raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze: What are you doing.

Song Jiang mouthed: Why are you still writing?

Because I love studying.

All princesses love studying.

Tao Zhi turned her head away and ignored him. She flipped back a few pages to check the earlier questions she’d written.

The bell signaling the end of the exam rang, and the proctor sitting in the back row stood up to collect the papers.

As soon as the papers were gathered, Song Jiang bounced over and plopped himself onto her desk. “I watched you the whole exam.”

Tao Zhi tidied up the pens and paper on her desk. “Why were you watching me take the exam?”

“Seeing you suddenly so quiet and diligent lately, even putting effort into exams,” Song Jiang looked her up and down, “our President Tao planning to return to her peak?”

“Just wrote casually,” Tao Zhi waved her hand. “Since Ji Fan’s back, I have to at least score two points higher than him.”

She said cheerfully, “Timely rain—Ji Fan can only get nine points in math.”

Song Jiang sneered, “Then what are you worried about? Last time you scored eleven points higher than him.”

Tao Zhi looked at him with satisfaction. “What I mean is, this school finally has someone who can replace you as the eternal last place.”

Song Jiang: “…”

Chinese and English were the only two subjects Tao Zhi had seriously reviewed. As long as there was a foundation, it was still possible to get points.

After the day’s exams, she felt quite good about herself. Morning: full effort. Afternoon: gave it her all. She tried to get every point she could. For the science comprehensive and math sections that she really couldn’t figure out, there was no need to force it—choose the longest among three short and one long option, and that would do.

What mattered was participating. Scores and such were all illusions anyway.

Because of the adjusted schedule for the eleven-day holiday, tomorrow would be their last class before break. After the final subject test, Wang Zhezi called them all back to the classroom early to put the desks and chairs back in order.

When Tao Zhi and Ji Fan strolled back, quite a few people had already returned. A few gathered together, holding scratch paper, comparing answers.

As soon as Jiang Qihuai entered, he was immediately surrounded by Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi.

And only those two.

Jiang Qihuai used to attend the affiliated high school. Though his reputation was well known, after transferring to Experimental No. 1 High School, he hadn’t taken a proper exam even once. From his homework and quizzes, one couldn’t really see much either.

In Class 1 of Experimental No. 1, any student you picked out at random had decent grades. Good students always carried a certain pride of their own. Though they called each other “top student” jokingly, without personal experience, they didn’t feel particularly close to or convinced by Jiang Qihuai.

Only people like Li Shuangjiang, who were a bit dull-witted, and who’d gotten familiar with him after that birthday dinner last time, would go around saying, “Our Brother Huai is the best.”

Most of what they talked about was the integrated science and math exams. Tao Zhi didn’t understand a single problem of what they said. She went to the back of the classroom to fetch Fu Xiling’s desk and her own, one in each hand, and pulled them back. On Jiang Qihuai’s side, while talking with Li Shuangjiang, he also pulled back his desk.

He had to make up the exam afterward, so Li Shuangjiang didn’t bother him for long—he asked a few questions, then left.

Wang Zhezi hadn’t returned yet, and the classroom was full of noisy chatter. Tao Zhi dragged her chair back, sat on it backward, and turned around. “Your Highness.”

Jiang Qihuai lowered his head.

“This exam should be a little easier than last semester’s mock exam, right?” Tao Zhi asked.

Jiang Qihuai gave a short “mm.”

“Then,” Tao Zhi tested cautiously, “Consort Li usually gets pretty good grades too, right?”

Jiang Qihuai dragged his chair closer, raising his eyes slightly at her.

Tao Zhi cleared her throat and continued, “Then Consort Li might be able to score seven hundred this time too, right?”

Jiang Qihuai’s lips curved. “Then why don’t you go ask her?”

“Why would I ask her? I’m asking you,” Tao Zhi said seriously. “Didn’t you say before that you’d only consider accepting someone’s confession if they scored seven hundred?”

Jiang Qihuai searched his memory for five seconds and confirmed that he had never said such a thing.

His silence, however, in Tao Zhi’s eyes, looked exactly like tacit admission.

Jiang Qihuai liked people who were good at studying. Li Sijia was cute, and her personality was quite sweet. If she could get seven hundred points, that would be flawless—perfectly fitting Jiang Qihuai’s standards for choosing a partner.

Tao Zhi really couldn’t think of any reason for him to refuse. If she were a guy, she’d probably like a girl like Li Sijia too—obedient, gentle, a little white rabbit, brave enough to confess to the person she liked.

Frowning, Tao Zhi racked her brains for how to persuade him to drop the idea, when Wang Zhezi came in and called him out for the makeup exam.

Jiang Qihuai pulled two pens from the drawer under his desk and followed Wang Zhezi out.

Standing by the door, Wang Zhezi clapped the front-row desk. “Alright, stop comparing those stupid answers of yours. You’ll see your results tomorrow anyway, it won’t kill you to wait one day. Zhao Mingqi, what are you yelling for? If you’ve got the energy to howl, you might as well do a few more problems before next time’s test. Once you’ve tidied up, you can all go home.”

Tao Zhi glanced once more at the door, then slowly packed up her bag.

The teachers at Experimental No. 1 graded papers fast. Early the next morning, as soon as Tao Zhi entered the classroom, she heard Li Shuangjiang dancing around inside.

“I just went to ask Old Wang! The papers are already graded, and the report cards will come out this morning!” Li Shuangjiang said excitedly, both thrilled and nervous. “Old Wang’s attitude toward me today was practically gentle, does that mean I got full marks in physics?”

His deskmate rolled his eyes. “Can you stop daydreaming every day?”

Fu Xiling nodded. “You definitely can get full marks. You’re so good at physics, no problem at all.”

Li Shuangjiang looked at her with gratitude.

His deskmate pointed behind him. “See that? That’s our professional flattery expert, Fu Xiling. The higher she praises you now, the harder you’re gonna crash later. She’ll toss your self-esteem off the twentieth floor and smash it to pieces, won’t even be able to glue it back together.”

Li Shuangjiang immediately deflated, his expression looking a little wounded.

Fu Xiling also looked quite wronged; she had said that from the bottom of her heart.

The teacher had taken the test papers home to grade overnight. By the next morning, they had organized, unsealed, and compiled the score sheets, then ranked them. During the last period of the morning, Wang Zhezi entered holding the list of results.

Today, Wang Zhezi seemed to be in quite a good mood. His expression wasn’t as wrinkled as usual; even the folds on his face looked fewer.

Tao Zhi tilted her head and whispered to Fu Xiling, “Looks like we did pretty well. Old Wang can change his name now—no need to call him Wang Crease, call him Wang Facelift.”

Fu Xiling covered her mouth, unable to stifle her laugh.

Standing at the front, Wang Zhezi cleared his throat with the report sheet in hand. Once the class quieted down, he began, “This exam was much easier than the last semester’s mock finals. Overall, our class did pretty well—four students scored above seven hundred. Among them, one student got full marks in both math and physics, with a total of 711, the highest in the grade—Jiang Qihuai.”

Wang Zhezi looked toward their side.

The entire class followed his gaze. Li Shuangjiang clapped enthusiastically at the front. Jiang Qihuai’s eyes were calm, his face completely expressionless—as if what he’d just heard was something as ordinary as being asked whether he wanted fried rice today.

Wang Zhezi continued, “And three more students—Wu Nan, 702; Li Shuangjiang and Li Sijia, both 701. Li Shuangjiang, your English this time was pretty good—improving fast! The English teacher even came to praise you just now. Keep it up.”

Li Shuangjiang responded loudly and proudly.

Tao Zhi didn’t hear any of it. Her mind was still stuck on what Wang Zhezi had just said.

Li Sijia, 701.

Li Sijia, 701.

Seven hundred and one.

Wang Zhezi cleared his throat again and went on, “And one more student I want to give special praise to. Though the score isn’t high, the progress is remarkable—Tao Zhi.”

Tao Zhi was still daydreaming. She raised her head blankly.

“Chinese 110, English 118!” Wang Zhezi announced loudly, as if Tao Zhi had just been admitted to Tsinghua University.

Tao Zhi snapped out of her daze, and once she registered the numbers, she fell into another. Her heart was pounding—so loud that every other sound around her seemed faint by comparison.

She heard Ji Fan mutter a low “holy shit” from the back, and Li Shuangjiang turned his head, staring at her in disbelief.

When she had first joined Class 1, she’d overheard people whispering behind her back.

That her grades were terrible. That rich people could do whatever they wanted, even get into the top class. That her bad grades would drag down Class 1’s overall score.

It was always like this in schools—good students looked down on bad ones, and bad ones resented the good.

Tao Zhi had grown used to such talk. At the time, she thought she didn’t really care.

But now, she realized—maybe she had cared a little bit after all.

Otherwise, why would she feel, at this moment, just a tiny bit… happy?

Turns out, kids who put in effort really could get a small, tiny reward like this.

Wang Zhezi lowered his head again to glance at the report sheet. Seeing her math score of forty and a combined science total barely over a hundred, he sighed. “Your imbalance across subjects is a bit serious.” Then he joked, “You still need to work a little harder on math and science. What’s the matter—think I’m too ugly, so you don’t like listening to my class?”

Tao Zhi was still lost in her own little world and didn’t even realize what he was saying. She only caught fragments—something about “still needs to work harder”—and nodded vaguely, replying in a daze, “Ah.”

The whole class: “…”

Wang Zhezi: “…”

He didn’t spend much time on the monthly exam results. After posting the score sheet on the small blackboard in front, he immediately went back to teaching.

It took Tao Zhi almost half the period to recover. Wang Zhezi seemed quite dissatisfied with her thirty points in physics; he called on her several times throughout the lesson.

As soon as the bell rang, Tao Zhi fought back the urge to spring from her seat. Composed on the surface, she turned and lightly patted Jiang Qihuai’s desk.

Jiang Qihuai looked up.

Tao Zhi leaned forward on his desk, smiling so brightly that her eyes curved into crescents, her head swaying slightly—as if her tail were about to wag straight into the sky.

Jiang Qihuai closed his book and, seeing her so eager for praise, couldn’t help but laugh softly.

He was just about to speak when Li Sijia jogged over from the other side, lightly patting the back of his chair. “Classmate Jiang.”

Jiang Qihuai turned his head.

The girl’s face was a little flushed; she looked both happy and shy. She pointed toward the back door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

After speaking, she lowered her head, still blushing, and walked out first.

Jiang Qihuai paused, set down his pen, and slid his chair back.

Tao Zhi froze completely, like someone had hit the pause button on her.

She had been too happy just now—completely wrapped up in her own joy—and had totally forgotten about this matter.

A sudden panic rose in her chest. She sat up straight, staring at Jiang Qihuai. The boy pushed his chair back unhurriedly and stood, about to walk out.

In a rush, without thinking, Tao Zhi grabbed his sleeve.

Jiang Qihuai stopped and turned around.

The girl clutched the sleeve of his uniform tightly, staring right at him, her brows furrowed. “Are you going to start a puppy love?”

Jiang Qihuai raised an eyebrow.

Tao Zhi said stiffly, “Jiang Qihuai, you can’t have an early romance.”

Her mind was a mess. She couldn’t think of any convincing reason to stop him, so she just blurted nonsense under pressure. “You can’t start dating someone just because they scored seven hundred points! That’s irresponsible. What, are you gonna date everyone who scores seven hundred from now on? Then what if I score seven hundred?”

When she finished, Jiang Qihuai’s lashes lifted slightly; his expression froze for a moment.

Tao Zhi’s expression froze too. Her mind went buzz, then the inner screaming chicken inside her ran wild through every organ in her body.

What the hell am I saying—ahhhhh!

It was lunchtime, and the classroom was in chaos—a crowd of students gathered in front to look at the posted grades. Li Shuangjiang charged out the back door shouting “Time to eat!”

Thinking fast, Tao Zhi pointed hastily at Li Shuangjiang’s retreating figure before Jiang Qihuai could speak. “Then what—if that’s the case, Li Shuangjiang also scored seven hundred, so you go date him right now!”

Jiang Qihuai: “…”

Tao Zhi didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. She simply went all in, resigned to her fate, blurting out, “Anyway, boys are better than girls!”

Jiang Qihuai: “…?”