41: Chapter 41 High School Arrives! A Slap in the Face

The smell of gunpowder in the air quietly permeated the entryway; a smoke-free war within the Family was about to begin.

Bearing the brunt of it was Zhang Wen's great-aunt. She set down the celadon teacup in her hand, the bottom of the cup colliding with the tabletop to create a crisp yet oppressive sound.

Her cloudy eyes slanted toward Zhang Wen at the doorway, squeezing a bit of malice out from between her wrinkles: "Little Wen, it's not that Great-Aunt wants to lecture you, but you're a grown man now. How can you have no consideration for your elders? Your parents work from dawn till dusk doing all sorts of odd jobs, their chilblains cracked like old tree bark, yet you—you just stay home all day doing nothing, still thinking about going to some ability university? Can that stuff put food on the table?"

As soon as she finished speaking, his mother, Wang Guihua, walked out from the kitchen carrying a plate of washed strawberries, oil stains from cooking still on her apron.

She set the plate on the coffee table and hurriedly defended her son: "Great-Aunt, please don't say that. Our Little Wen is quite successful now! The ability college entrance exam results just came out a few days ago, and he said he's confident he can get first place in the entire province!"

"Pfft—" The aunt sitting on the other end suddenly laughed out loud, covering her mouth with a handkerchief. Her shoulders shook like dead leaves in an autumn wind, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes bunched up.

She slanted a look at Zhang Wen, the mockery in her tone almost overflowing: "Guihua, it's not that I want to lecture you, but what kind of potion has your son fed you? We know Zhang Wen's background as well as you do. Throughout his three years of high school, when did he ever get a hot meal without relying on that girl from the Ding Family? His classmates call him the 'King of Soft Rice' behind his back. And with that, he wants to be the provincial top scholar? I suspect he didn't even pass his ability Awakening!"

These words were like an ice-tempered needle, stabbing fiercely into Wang Guihua's heart. Her clenched knuckles turned white, her Adam's apple bobbed in her throat, and she forcefully held back the heat surging into her eyes.

The smile on her face was as thin as frost, but she still stiffened her neck and insisted: "It was the Ding Family who offered to help back then. Our Little Wen has ambition; he was just holding his breath to prove himself! During his last ability Awakening, his talent was a once-in-a-century SSS-Grade—"

"Enough!" The great-aunt slammed the coffee table, causing half a cup of water to spill from the celadon teacup, leaving a dark stain on the table. She glared at Wang Guihua, her voice suddenly rising: "SSS-Grade? I think it's 'Heaven-Grade' bragging! If he really had that kind of heaven-defying ability, he would have been on the news long ago, not staying home all day, doing nothing, and sponging off his parents. In my opinion, he'd be better off finding someone to get him an apprenticeship at an auto repair shop. Turning screws is more reliable than any ability university!"

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the silent Zhang Father in the corner, her tone dripping with even more disdain: "Look at Mingming from your aunt's side of the Family. He started working in logistics right after middle school, and now he makes over ten thousand a month, enough to build a two-story house for his Family. That's what you call real success!"

Zhang Wen looked at the sneer on the great-aunt's lips, then glanced at his mother's reddened eyes—she was secretly wiping the back of her hand with the corner of her apron, while his father hung his head, his fingers unconsciously picking at the wood grain on the sofa armrest.

The anger in his chest was like gasoline poured on a fire, burning until his eardrums buzzed, even his breath carrying a scorching temperature.

He stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping a harsh sound against the floor. He was about to let this group of snobbish relatives see what true strength was—

"Ding-dong—" The doorbell suddenly rang, the crisp sound like a pair of scissors, abruptly snapping the tense string in the living room.

At this moment, Zhang Wen, who had just stood up, immediately regretted it. For no other reason than that the words he had just been about to say had somehow become stuck in his throat, and just as he was thinking about how to resolve the awkwardness, the doorbell rang.

Zhang Wen turned and walked toward the door, his steps light as if he had heard a greeting from an acquaintance, without a hint of hesitation. As he passed the chair he had knocked askew, he casually straightened it, his movements as natural as if he were tidying up his own things.

This sudden change left the relatives in the living room looking at each other in confusion. The great-aunt frowned and pursed her lips, whispering to the aunt next to her: "What's wrong with this kid? Just a moment ago he looked ready to fight, and now he's acting like nothing happened. Has he lost his mind from anger?"

"Who is it?" Zhang Wen asked loudly, his hand already on the doorknob. He was still wondering if another relative had arrived right at mealtime, which would be perfect for diverting this group's fire.

With a "click," the door opened. Standing outside were two strangers in crisp suits, wearing silver school badges on their chests. One of them, a middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses, was the first to reveal a gentle smile: "Hello, is this the home of student Zhang Wen? We are from the admissions office of Jinlin University in Jiangnan Province, and we are here specifically to visit student Zhang Wen."

Zhang Wen was stunned for a moment, a flash of knowing amusement sweeping through his eyes—wasn't this the opportunity he needed? He stepped aside calmly and made a "please enter" gesture toward the door.

Seeing the visitors at the door, the whispering in the living room stopped abruptly, like a tape being cut.

The great-aunt's hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air, tea stains creeping down the side of the cup and leaving a dark mark on the back of her hand.

The strawberry the aunt was about to put into her mouth hit the coffee table with a "thud," rolled twice, and fell into the gap of the fruit tray. The disdain on her face hadn't even had time to fade, but her eyes were glued to the school badge on the visitors' chests—the gold-stamped characters "Jinlin University" shone dazzlingly under the fluorescent light, as if slapping someone hard in the face.

"Jinlin University?" The aunt on the side said with a fluttering, trembling voice of disbelief, "Is that... the top-rated ability university in our Jiangnan Province?"

The teacher with glasses nodded gently, turning his gaze to Zhang Wen at the door, and confirmed politely: "Is this student Zhang Wen?"

Zhang Wen nodded neither humbly nor arrogantly.

The smile on the teacher's face deepened, his tone full of genuine praise: "Student Zhang Wen's performance in this ability college entrance exam was truly stunning—a total cultural score of 657, and a Secret Realm combat score of 10,215, ranking first in the entire province. We came here specifically to visit, first to offer our congratulations, and second to formally invite you to join Jinlin University. Would you be willing?"

These words exploded in the living room like a muffled thunderclap. The teacup in the great-aunt's hand fell to the floor with a "clang," celadon shards mixed with amber tea splashing everywhere. She opened her mouth, her jaw almost dislocating. The arrogance she had displayed earlier, the "I've eaten more salt than you've eaten rice" attitude, had long since been washed away by this sudden news.

The aunt stared at the smashed strawberry in the fruit tray, her lips trembling, unable to squeeze out a single word for a long time—the "King of Soft Rice" she had been mocking just a moment ago had turned into the provincial top scholar. This slap in the face really stung!