162: Re-entering Jinling

May 1st, early summer.

Heaven was cooperative.

The sun chose a good day, and the wind carried a warm, earthy fragrance of vegetation.

“Hiss—”

The sound of the pneumatic door releasing pressure was somewhat harsh as the red bus slowly came to a stop.

As soon as it stopped, Fei Yuncheng immediately stood up from the tour guide seat in the front row.

He always seemed exceptionally agitated in such large gatherings,

and the megaphone he had been using for several years creaked under his grip.

“Wake up, everyone! Grab your personal belongings, especially your admission tickets and ID cards!”

A flurry of rustling sounds came from inside the bus.

Fei Yuncheng was the first to jump off the bus.

His dark Polo shirt was stretched taut across his body as he stood by the door, his gaze sharp as a torch.

Immediately following him, Shen Qingqiu and Yan Fang led out the nineteen “survivors” from Jiangcheng No. 1 High School in single file.

Even the students who were usually mature and steady at school,

could not hide the bright glint in their eyes at this moment.

This was Jinling.

The misty water scenery of six dynasties, truly the capital city.

Unlike the steel and concrete of an old industrial city like Jiangcheng,

the streets here were not excessively wide, but they were densely shaded by rows of towering plane trees.

The massive canopies interlocked overhead, allowing sunlight to filter down only through the gaps in the leaves,

scattering onto the asphalt road like mottled gold coins.

“Is that Jinling University...”

Zhang Ya clutched the strap of her school bag, gazing at the main gate of Jinling University not far away, and sighed softly.

“It feels like even the trees here are more cultured than ours.”

Lin Que pressed down the brim of his cap and followed the group off the bus.

The moment his feet touched the ground, a heavy sensation mixed with dust and history washed over him.

The accompanying team for this trip was quite impressive.

Dean of Students Fei Yuncheng was in charge, with Yan Fang, the head of the Chinese language group, as backup,

and homeroom teacher Shen Qingqiu responsible for logistics and psychological counseling.

“Line up! Two by two!”

Yan Fang maintained a stern face, but her gaze softened slightly upon seeing the street full of plane trees.

The group proceeded inward in a grand procession.

The venue for the semi-finals was set at Jinling University.

This century-old prestigious school was a scenic spot in itself.

Green bricks and black tiles, flying eaves and pointed corners,

and Virginia creeper grew wildly over the red window lattices.

On the lawn in front of the North Building, one could almost smell the ink from a hundred years ago.

But at this moment, that faint scent of ink was completely drowned out by the clamor of voices.

“Oh my god...”

Li Bowen stopped in his tracks as soon as he entered the school gate.

He pushed up the glasses on his nose, attempting to use the thinking of a science student to estimate the density of the crowd before him,

but ultimately could only arrive at one conclusion:

A blessing for those with trypophobia!

It was too vast.

The square was packed with a dense mass of people.

Nearly eight thousand top students who passed the preliminary round, hailing from thirteen prefecture-level cities in Su Province, were all gathered here.

The colorful school uniforms filled the square completely.

The soft tones of Wu Dialect, the firm Mandarin of the Jianghuai region, and the straightforward accents of Northern Su—

thousands of mouths opening and closing simultaneously created a buzzing sound that startled the sparrows in the trees into flight.

Every face clearly displayed the words: 'I am a top student.'

The magnetic field, only perceptible among peers, made the air feel thick and viscous.

“Stop looking.”

Shen Qingqiu walked to the back of the group and patted Li Bowen’s shoulder.

“If nothing unexpected happens, eighty percent of the people here will be eliminated after tomorrow.

A large number does not equate to strength; most are just the denominator.”

The words were cold, but effective.

Fei Yuncheng glanced at his watch, then turned to address the crowd:

“It’s nine-thirty now, and there’s an hour until check-in begins.

Dismissed! Stay around this central plaza to familiarize yourselves with the environment, but don’t wander too far!

Be back under the North Building at ten-thirty sharp!”

“Okay—”

The reply was scattered; their minds had already flown elsewhere.

Once the group dispersed, the previously tense students instantly started celebrating.

Some ran off to take photos with the famous North Building, others clustered near other schools’ groups to gather intelligence,

while some simply found a patch of grass to lie down on, soaking up the atmosphere of this top-tier academy.

Lin Que did not join the excitement.

He pulled his baseball cap lower,

even managing to pull out a face mask from somewhere to wear, leaving only his eyes visible.

In this crowd, being low-key was paramount.

He took out his phone and aimed it at the huge red banner above the gymnasium in the distance:

【“Fu Zhi Yao Competition” National Middle School Essay Contest (Su Province) Semi-Finals】

He snapped a quick picture.

The photo composition was casual, yet it exuded a relaxed sense of “I have arrived.”

He opened WeChat.

【Mu Xia】: [Picture]

【Mu Xia】: I’m here. Don't say I didn't tell you.

After sending the message, it was like a stone sinking into the sea.

Lin Que stared at the screen for two seconds, but there was no response.

Normally, even if she were practicing piano,

that internet-addicted girl would reply with an emoji or send a voice message complaining about the professor’s inhuman torture within three minutes.

or send a voice message complaining about the professor’s inhuman torture.

“Looks like she’s really busy.”

Lin Que put away his phone, unsurprised.

The European tour in August was indeed a killer schedule for a pianist of Ye Xi’s caliber,

it was a grueling battle.

At this moment, she was probably wrestling with that Steinway in the practice room.

Not disturbing her was also a form of tacit understanding.

Hands in his pockets, he walked alone through the crowd,

wandering aimlessly around the campus.

Lin Que had heard a lot about Jinling University in his previous life, but he had never set foot inside.

Back then, he was applying to Southeast University next door.

The two schools were less than two kilometers apart in a straight line, separated by only a few alleys.

For four years in his past life, he had worked himself ragged studying for credits and theses next door,

but he had never stepped through the gate of this neighbor, often called the 'most beautiful campus in the East.'

Now that he had been reborn, he was finally making up for this regret.

“It just has more trees and older buildings.”

Lin Que kicked a small stone at his feet, looking at the clock tower covered in vines not far away,

and the faint melancholy about his past life that had just surfaced was quickly suppressed.

Passing a vending machine, Lin Que stopped.

The Jinling in May already carried a hint of summer heat, and his throat felt a bit dry.

After facial recognition, the vending machine’s mechanical arm presented a can of iced cola.

“Did you hear? That ‘premium selection’ from the preliminary round.”

A voice suddenly reached his ears.

The fingers Lin Que was extending toward the retrieval slot paused slightly.

To the side of the vending machine, in the shade, stood a few boys.

Judging by their school uniform style—white shirts paired with dark blue trousers, with a golden school crest embroidered on the chest—

they were from Jinling High School.

This was the powerhouse among Su Province high schools,

any random student pulled from there could be treated like a top scholar in an ordinary school.

The speaker was a boy wearing rimless glasses,

quite tall, holding a bottle of Perrier, with a tone of confusion.

“I heard that the premium selection piece was titled 'success in the imperial examination'?

That topic is completely worn out, yet it still got special consideration? Did the organizing committee lose their minds?”

The tall boy shook his head, his expression becoming more serious.

“Don’t underestimate it. I heard from my uncle that the essay caused an earthquake among the Fudan grading committee.

Dean Chen Jingzhi personally approved it as a premium selection, saying that he had written the concept of 'joyful occasions' to perfection.”

“Dean Chen?”

His companion paused.

“The one from Fudan’s School of Literature?”

“Yes. And...”

The tall boy lowered his voice, as if sharing classified intelligence.

“To prevent plagiarism, the full text hasn't been made public yet.

They only revealed the title.”

...