198: 28-hour express service

The air in the command hall grew thick.

No one spoke.

Even the sound of breathing was deliberately suppressed to its lowest.

Dozens of eyes were firmly fixed on screen number 0816, on that final line of text.

"Time to go to work."

There was no heart-wrenching scream, nor earth-shattering resistance.

Old Knife risked his life, crawling like a dog through the crevices of the folded city,

even nearly crushed into pulp by a hydraulic press, only to earn a ticket for his daughter to attend kindergarten,

and his own fate of returning to the garbage heap to scavenge for scrap.

This kind of extremely calm despair was more like a blunt knife than any tragedy.

One stroke, then another, cutting into everyone's nerves.

Tao Zhiyan's hand, holding a thermos cup, hung in mid-air.

The lid hadn't been unscrewed yet.

He remained frozen like that, his eyes bloodshot, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

"Is that... it?"

A young teaching assistant beside him instinctively rubbed his sore nose, his voice trembling slightly:

"It's so suffocating. Really, worse than killing him."

On the screen, Lin Que didn't repeatedly check for typos or ponder sentence structures like the other examinees.

He simply moved the mouse.

Stopping on that button which, for the other thousand examinees, was like a death warrant from the King of Hell.

"Submit/Remaining Time 43:50:31"

Without any hesitation.

His index finger pressed down.

"Click."

At this moment, only twenty-eight hours had passed since the exam began.

"Beep—"

The prompt from the main console followed immediately.

The technician monitoring the data was momentarily stunned,

double-checking the backend data twice before raising his head in disbelief, his voice dry:

"Report... examinee 0816, has submitted."

"Submitted?!"

The glossy purple clay teapot in Gu Changfeng's hand tightened abruptly.

"He's submitting already?"

He murmured softly, his expression extremely complex.

There were still over forty hours left.

Even if he just polished the details a bit more, or refined the wording...

Tao Zhiyan anxiously slapped his thigh,

wishing he could crawl through the internet and grab Lin Que's hand.

"Submitting with so much time left, how foolish!"

However, the youth on the screen couldn't hear the inner turmoil of these big shots.

After successful submission, the software named "Fuzhiyao Finals Terminal" automatically closed, and the screen returned to a clean desktop.

Lin Que stood up, stretched with a big yawn, his joints cracking.

He casually grabbed the suit jacket hanging on the chair back and draped it over his arm,

unscrewed the can of cola he hadn't finished and took a gulp, then turned and walked straight toward the door.

"Click."

The door lock opened.

Under the stunned gazes of the judges, that deep blue figure disappeared from the surveillance feed,

leaving behind an empty room that seemed to still hold traces of sparks of thought... Screen 0816 went completely black, like a closed eye, refusing everyone's prying.

Gu Changfeng stared at that black screen for a full half-minute before reluctantly sighing and forcibly pulling his gaze away.

"Alright, stop staring at an empty room."

He tapped the table, his voice carrying a complex weariness.

"The competition isn't over yet, we still have to keep going."

The judges then snapped out of their daze, with a sense of anticlimax,

turning their attention back to the wall of surveillance screens still filled with struggling examinees.

The scene shifted.

In the center of the screen, Xu Changge still sat as straight as a pine tree.

He had also entered the mid-to-late stages, currently pondering whether "desolate" or "mottled" better conveyed the weight of history.

As a prodigy in the capital's circles, Xu Changge had absolute confidence.

But he couldn't forget that glance back in the auditorium, at that youth from Su Province who had earned a double premium selection.

"Double premium selection..."

Xu Changge's fingers hovered over the keyboard for half a second.

After the Semifinals results came out, his family's old man had used this to admonish him more than once.

For this finals, he had undergone a month of closed-door intensive training,

maintaining high-intensity writing practice every single day, all for this moment,

to surpass that so-called "Su Province genius."

"In terms of structure and depth, I won't lose."

Xu Changge took a deep breath, his gaze turning firm again.

What he didn't know was that the person he saw as his rival had already left the examination hall and was now thinking about where to get a good meal.

And in the other surveillance feeds, the situation was even bleaker.

The progress bars of the vast majority of examinees had just reached the fifteen-thousand-word mark.

Some had hair tousled into a bird's nest, some silently wept at their screens, and a bespectacled boy, stuck in writer's block, paced back and forth in his room like a headless fly, muttering neurotically, "The wall... where's the wall..."

Against the backdrop of these examinees still struggling in purgatory, that empty room 0816 seemed particularly ironic, and particularly domineering... Wenjin Pavilion Hotel.

The afternoon sun was still as scorching as a whip, cicadas screaming their lungs out in the trees.

In the temporary rest area on the first floor of Wenjin Pavilion,

dozens of accompanying teachers and parents filled the sofas, the air thick with anxiety.

Some paced back and forth, some stared blankly at the time on their phones.

Only twenty-eight hours had passed since the exam began, not even halftime in this marathon.

"Ding—"

The crisp chime of the elevator arriving on the first floor was particularly jarring in this lifeless hall.

Everyone's eyes instinctively swept over.

Then.

A commotion.

"Look! A student came out!"

"It's only the first day, right? Did he quit?"

In the corner.

Shen Qingqiu, who was handling administrative work on her laptop, suddenly froze.

She looked up.

Her gaze pierced through the crowd, precisely locking onto the figure emerging from the elevator.

Deep blue suit, jacket draped over his arm, an empty cola can in hand.

Lin Que?!

Shen Qingqiu's pupils contracted.

She didn't rush forward in panic like the other parents, but instead took a deep breath and closed her laptop.

Stood up.

Straightened her clothes.

Though her movements remained efficient, her slightly trembling fingertips betrayed the turmoil in her heart.

She quickly walked forward, stopping two meters away from Lin Que.

Her gaze sharp, scanning him up and down.

Ruddy complexion, steady gait, clear eyes.

Didn't seem sick.

Nor mentally broken.

"Why are you out?"

Shen Qingqiu's voice tried to remain steady, but her pace was half a beat faster than usual.

The surrounding eyes instantly focused on them.

There were looks of mockery, sympathy, and confusion.

Lin Que looked at his homeroom teacher's tense yet forcibly calm demeanor and smiled helplessly.

He patted his stomach.

"Hungry."

Shen Qingqiu was stunned, clearly not following this train of thought:

"What?"

"The food inside is terrible, and the portions are small."

Lin Que said it matter-of-factly, as if it were a major issue.

"Too hungry, brain won't work, so I came out."

Shen Qingqiu opened her mouth.

That usual decisive energy of hers was now completely frozen.

She looked at her watch.

Then at Lin Que.

"So... you quit because you were hungry?"

Her voice rose an octave.

"Didn't quit."

Lin Que tossed the empty cola can into a nearby trash bin with a clang.

"Finished writing, submitted."

"No point staying inside wasting time, might as well come out for a good meal."

Silence.

The previously somewhat noisy rest hall instantly fell quiet.

Dozens of eyes widened like copper bells.

Fin... finished writing?

That's a thirty-thousand-word long piece!

It's only been twenty-eight hours!

Shen Qingqiu felt her heart had just ridden a roller coaster.

She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the urge to grab Lin Que's shoulders and shake him.

However, she knew this student too well.

Since he dared to come out, since he dared to say he finished writing.

That meant he had confidence.

"Alright."

Shen Qingqiu gritted her teeth, her face regaining that protective, domineering aura.

Ignoring the stunned, dumbfounded looks around her, she waved her hand grandly.

"Hungry? Then eat!"

"What do you want? Roast duck or hot pot? Teacher's treat! As much as you want!"

...In the taxi.

The air conditioning was on full blast, blocking out the capital's heat.

Lin Que pulled out his phone, which had been off for two days, from his pocket and pressed the power button.

"Buzz buzz buzz—"

As soon as it turned on, the phone vibrated wildly as if electrocuted.

The red dot on the WeChat icon instantly turned into "99+".

Lin Que first sent a voice message in the "In the Woods" group chat of three:

"Dad, Mom, I finished the exam, went smoothly, planning to go eat roast duck now."

After sending, he clicked on the dialog with the cartoon rabbit avatar.

Scrolling up, over a dozen unread messages popped up on the screen.

The last threatening message from the person with the cartoon rabbit avatar still hung at the bottom of the dialog.

"Fugitive Beethoven": Same old rule, tell me as soon as you finish the exam.

"Fugitive Beethoven": If you dare not place, I'll write your black history into a song and play it for the whole world!

Lin Que curled the corner of his mouth, typing on the screen.

"Mu Xia": Just came out. Going to eat roast duck.

Less than three seconds after sending the message.

"Fugitive Beethoven": ???

"Fugitive Beethoven": Did you break out?

"Fugitive Beethoven": It's barely been 24 hours! Did you blow up the exam hall?

"Mu Xia": Finished writing, too stuffy inside, came out for some air.

In the piano practice room.

Ye Xi stared at her phone screen, her hands that had just been flying across the keys suddenly covering her mouth.

"Freak..."

She muttered softly.

But the corners of her eyes and brows were filled with unconcealable joy.

"Fugitive Beethoven": [Rabbit thumbs up.jpg]

"Fugitive Beethoven": Fine, you win. Since you're so confident, I'll tell you something too.

"Fugitive Beethoven": Heard from my grandpa, the award ceremony for this "Fuzhiyao" might be bigger than you think.

"Fugitive Beethoven": When the time comes, don't get so scared your legs go weak...