137: Happy New Year (Volume 1 - End)

The final exams at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School

have always been known as the "Mini Gaokao."

The examination halls were set up according to the standards of the city-wide joint examinations.

One person per desk, with names and examination numbers pasted on the corners.

The distance between desks in all directions was large enough to nip any thoughts of flirting in the bud.

The air was thick with the scent of paper and ink,

so quiet that only the "tick-tock, tick-tock" of the wall clock's second hand could be heard.

Lin Que sat in a seat by the window.

He twirled his pen, looking at the mathematics paper in front of him with a somewhat vacant gaze.

Back in the day, he had been a top student at a 985 University,

but after becoming a writer,

things like analytic geometry and derivatives had long since been returned to his former math teachers.

In the few months since his rebirth, although he had crammed for a while,

it was at most like reapplying oil to rusty parts; he was far from being able to operate at full speed.

He scanned the paper.

The multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions at the beginning were relatively friendly.

Relying on residual memory and logical deduction, he managed to stumble through them.

But when he flipped to the back and saw the final analytic geometry problem, Lin Que's eyelid couldn't help but twitch.

The question was very short; the fewer the words, the bigger the problem.

Those ellipses, hyperbolas, and parabolas were tangled together like a mess of yarn with no loose end.

In his eyes, these were no longer shapes,

but a set of tightly sealed yet heartless logical loops that rejected any emotional intervention.

Lin Que sighed and began setting points and listing equations.

He could feel that

the students sitting around him were already writing with a "rustling" sound.

The friction of pen against paper sounded like an impassioned battle march.

As for himself, after calculating for a long time,

he solved for a bizarre coordinate with three levels of square roots that looked nothing like a standard answer.

Forget it, I'll leave it to fate.

Lin Que decisively gave up and began checking the previous questions from the beginning.

His goal this time was very clear:

Long live the passing grade; any extra point is a waste.

The examination hall was like a battlefield, and time flew by.

Finally, he reached the last subject: Chinese.

The moment the test paper was handed out, Lin Que felt like he had come back to life.

The atmosphere in the entire examination hall also relaxed.

For the students of grade 11, class 3,

the Chinese exam, especially the essay, had become a sort of "Lin Que Observation Convention."

Many people subconsciously glanced in Lin Que's direction,

wanting to see what kind of shocking article this rising star of the literary world would write this time.

Even Shen Qingqiu, who was one of the proctors in the next room,

secretly imagined what that student would write when she saw the essay prompt.

Lin Que flipped to the last page and saw the essay prompt.

Two words: Summary.

This was an extremely open-ended prompt, yet one that was very easy to write in a hollow manner.

One could summarize the gains and losses of the past year,

summarize lessons learned in studies, or elevate it to reflections on a stage of life.

When Lin Que saw this prompt, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

After thinking for a moment,

Lin Que picked up his pen and wrote the title on the draft paper—"Summarizing the Past is Also Opening the Future."

He didn't use any flowery language to open, but simply presented a plain argument.

"...A summary is not a mechanical inventory of past merits and faults, but a deep review of the self.

Our generation is fortunate to stand on the paths opened by our predecessors, using their sparks to light our own torches.

Looking back at the path we've traveled, we should ask ourselves: are we content with mimicking the light, or have we found our own direction within the glow?

Are we content with memorizing maps, or have we identified our own constellations during the journey?"

"...Therefore, a summary is a period, but it should also be a dash.

It marks a stage in past explorations and points toward the infinitely extending possibilities of the future.

We stand on the shoulders of giants not to enjoy the scenery in comfort, but to see further, and then, to construct our own heights.

This height may be clumsy or naive, but it stems from our most sincere response to the land beneath our feet."

This was a standard "high-scoring eight-legged essay."

Lin Que wrote it with great difficulty,

not because he couldn't write it, but because he had to restrain himself from writing too well.

He had to push back the sharp, golden phrases that jumped to his pen tip and replace them with steady, repetitive rhetoric.

After finishing the last word,

Lin Que even had time to lie on the desk, pretending to reflect on life while actually taking a ten-minute nap.

"Ring—"

As the bell signaling the end of the exam rang,

the entire teaching building seemed like a powder keg instantly ignited.

The students, who had been suppressed for two days, let out earth-shattering cheers.

Books and papers were tossed into the air, fluttering down like snowflakes.

"Liberation!"

"Finally finished! I'm going home to sleep for three days and nights!"

Wu Di rushed to Lin Que's side immediately and excitedly put an arm around his shoulders:

"Brother Que! Let's pull an all-nighter at the internet cafe tonight!"

Lin Que yawned, looking utterly drained of life:

"I can't move. My soul has been sucked dry by the comprehensive science paper."

Just then, the campus broadcast suddenly rang out.

The powerful voice of Fei Yuncheng, the Dean of Students, spread through the speakers to every corner of the campus.

"Students, please be quiet! I have an announcement to make!"

The noisy campus instantly fell silent.

"The school has decided that the results of this final exam

will be... announced after the Spring Festival holiday!"

After a brief silence, there was an even more violent, mountain-shaking cheer.

"Long live the school!!"

"The principal is wise!!"

"I can have a good New Year now!"

The students hugged and jumped around, venting the joy of having survived a disaster.

Looking at this sea of joy, Lin Que couldn't help but smile too.

Not having to immediately face the judgment of a report card

was indeed the most heartwarming news of this winter.

The day after the exams was the last day of the semester.

There was no morning reading or classes.

In the classroom of grade 11, class 3,

the usual dullness had been replaced by the bustle of a lively market.

Everyone was busy cleaning—wiping windows, mopping floors, and arranging desks and chairs neatly.

On the blackboard, someone had used colored chalk to draw a miniature map of the campus,

with several crooked characters written next to it:

Happy Winter Break, see you next year!

Shen Qingqiu stood on the podium,

looking at the group of chattering students whose minds had already flown out the window.

A rare trace of a smile appeared on her usually cold face.

"Alright, I've finished saying everything that needs to be said."

She paused, her voice softening significantly.

"During the winter break, stay safe, especially when setting off fireworks.

As for homework... do what you can, but it will be checked when school starts."

A burst of good-natured laughter erupted from below.

"Finally, I wish all of you, and your families..."

Shen Qingqiu bowed slightly.

"Happy New Year, and may everything go your way."

"Happy New Year to you too, teacher!"

Warm and sincere applause rang out in the classroom.

On the way home, fine snowflakes began to drift from the sky.

Lin Que walked unhurriedly with his hands in his pockets.

He took out his phone and habitually opened the back-end of Red Fruit Reading.

Just as he expected, after a week of false prosperity, the reputation of "ferry convenience store" had completely collapsed.

The comment section was filled with cries of despair.

[Comment Section]

[Melon-Eating Badger]: I'm throwing up, I really am. I came for the 'Ferry Universe,' and this is what you give me?

The protagonist is a total Mary Sue, the ghosts are more reasonable than the living, and in the end, everyone just gets together for a happy ending? Screenwriter, you really know how to do 'family-friendly.'

[Midnight Nightwatchman]: A poor imitation that fails miserably.

The reason Dream Weaver's 'soul ferry' is so amazing is that he writes about the bones of reality wrapped in the soul of obsession.

What about this 'Convenience Store'? It's just a bunch of cheap saccharin and MSG—sickeningly sweet and unsettlingly greasy.

[Angry Horse Refund]: Can you stop piggybacking on the word 'Ferry'?

'soul ferry' is the judge in hell, 'the ferryman' is the god on the wasteland,

and what is your 'Convenience Store'? A neighborhood committee auntie delivering warmth to the community?

[Rational Discussion]: The scale is too small; he only saw the skin of 'Ferry' but didn't grasp its core.

True ferrying is about facing pain, not sugarcoating peace.

I suggest the author read more books, especially 'soul ferry' and 'the ferryman,' to see how a real master tells a story.

The screen went dark, reflecting the youth's slightly mocking face.

He didn't need to lift a finger, nor did he need to dirty Dream Weaver's feathers.

That so-called "Ferry Universe"

had ultimately become the green leaves highlighting the red flower—the kind of green leaves that rot in the ground to become fertilizer... New Year's Eve.

At the house in Xisheng Mansion, the festive atmosphere was already thick.

Wang Xiu_lian was busy in the kitchen,

the aroma of stewed meat dominantly occupying every corner of the house.

Lin Jianguo held the remote,

switching back and forth between the New Year's Eve galas on several satellite channels, muttering to himself:

"I don't know the celebrities on this channel, and the lights on that channel are too blinding..."

"Little Que, get ready, it's time to eat!"

Wang Xiu_lian peeked out from the kitchen, her face dusted with a bit of flour.

The New Year's Eve dinner was as lavish as a feast.

The family of three sat around the table as the lively sound of the countdown came from the TV.

"...Five, four, three, two, one!"

Outside the window, brilliant fireworks exploded in the night sky one after another, lighting up the entire city as bright as day.

"Happy New Year!" Wang Xiu_lian raised her juice glass, her eyes slightly red.

"Happy New Year." Lin Jianguo also raised his glass, a rare smile on his face.

"Happy New Year, Dad, Mom." Lin Que smiled and clinked glasses with them.

Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated slightly.

Lin Que took it out and saw a WeChat message pop up on the screen.

It was that familiar profile picture of a rabbit smashing a piano.

[Fugitive Beethoven]: [Image]

The image showed a plump, white, somewhat misshapen dumpling lying lonely on a plate, with a small dish of vinegar next to it.

[Fugitive Beethoven]: Happy New Year.

[Fugitive Beethoven]: This is a 'special edition' I secretly made while my aunt wasn't looking.

Leek and egg filling; I didn't dare add garlic. [Grimace.jpg]

Lin Que looked at that ugly yet cute dumpling,

feeling as if he could smell that familiar, rebellious scent of leeks.

It was the only small jailbreak on New Year's Eve for a girl bound by rules.

He smiled and replied.

[Mu Xia]: The shape has a lot of soul; it's clearly a form that only comes from breaking free of certain constraints.

[Mu Xia]: Happy New Year.

Lin Que put down his phone,

looking at the brilliant light and fire outside the window, and at the happy faces of his family reflected on the glass.

A cozy warmth enveloped him; this was a sense of stability he had never experienced in his previous life... Happy New Year 2026.