212: The result is that I have to go to work tomorrow.

On the red carpet.

Xu Changge’s words slammed hard against the eardrums of everyone present.

The surrounding media reporters instantly caught the scent of a viral sensation.

Countless black camera lenses zoomed in frantically, as if they wanted to shove themselves right into Lin Que's face.

The shutter clicks hadn't yet merged into a single roar, but countless black lenses were already pressing forward like muzzles of guns.

There was no respect for the examinee in the reporters' eyes, only the excitement of waiting for their prey to fall into a trap.

They were waiting for a moment of breakdown, just so tomorrow's headlines would be bloody enough.

They had even drafted the headlines in their heads: "Capital's Noble Son Publicly Exposes the Dark Side; Abandoned Examinee's Psychological Defenses Completely Collapse!"

However, the expected loss of composure did not happen.

Looking at the scion of a prestigious family before him, whose eyes were excessively pure, Lin Que’s lips curled into a grin instead.

He understood.

This wasn't a provocation, much less an insult.

This was a resonance from a kindred spirit, a near-shuddering connection born from touching the edge of that cruel worldview.

Lin Que leaned forward slightly, his voice kept very low, blending into the noisy chatter of the crowd:

"A wall without blood is a dead thing. It's precisely because blood is warm, because it flows and hurts... Only if it still hurts does it mean the person behind the wall is still alive."

Xu Changge’s originally impeccable expression froze for a moment.

He stared at Lin Que as if he were seeing this opponent clearly for the first time.

Immediately after, an extremely brilliant smile—one even carrying a hint of relief—blossomed on his face.

"Grandfather was right."

Xu Changge murmured softly, the light in his eyes frighteningly bright:

"I saw the moss; you saw the bone and blood."

Having said that, he spoke no more. Instead, he took half a step back and turned sideways.

He made an extremely gentlemanly "after you" gesture toward Lin Que.

This scene caused the sound of shutters throughout the venue to pause for a heartbeat.

The originally tense battlefield had suddenly turned into a... tea party where everyone was polite and respectful?

Lin Que didn't act pretentious either; he nodded and stepped forward.

Xu Changge followed immediately. The two walked side-by-side, one on the left and one on the right.

One in white, one in blue.

One was the gentle-as-jade noble son of the capital, the other was the reserved and profound "madman" of Su Province.

Two completely different auras blended strangely on the red carpet.

There was no hierarchy, no victory or defeat, only the composure of heroes recognizing one another.

"Click! Click! Click!"

The photographers, finally snapping out of it, went wild.

The camera flashes merged into a sheet of daylight,

capturing this first-ever union of the "Twin Stars of the North and South"—a moment worthy of being recorded in the history of Huaxia literature.

"This... this isn't in the script!"

A female reporter holding a microphone was dumbfounded, the sharp questions she had prepared earlier rotting in her gut:

"Weren't they supposed to tear into each other? Why does it feel like Young Master Xu is endorsing Lin Que?"

Beside her, a veteran reporter was clicking his shutter frantically, his hands shaking with excitement:

"What do you know! This isn't just a simple endorsement; this is recognition!

Xu Changge is using his actions to tell everyone that Lin Que isn't just sane, but someone qualified to stand beside him!"

"Audience members! We might be witnessing history!"

The old reporter roared at the camera.

"Escorted personally by the Crown Prince of the beijing school—what a grand show of respect!"

At the end of the red carpet.

Chen Jiahao, who had been pushed to the periphery, was standing on his tiptoes, peering through the gaps in the crowd at the two departing figures.

The chubby, bespectacled fellow sniffled, moved to tears.

"As expected of Young Master Xu. He's so cultured, so compassionate!"

Chen Jiahao wiped the sweat from his face, gasping with emotion:

"As expected of a prestigious family from the Beijing Circle.

He must be worried about Master Que's mental stability, so he's walking this stretch with him to prevent Master Que from being triggered..."

"Is this... the spirit of the strong?"

...Stepping into the Centennial Auditorium, the outside clamor was instantly cut off by two heavy oak doors.

Inside the auditorium, the dome hung high above, with a massive chandelier casting a soft golden light.

This was the core of the highest institution and the hall of honor for tonight.

Hundreds of seats were arranged in a fan shape, with names pasted on the back of each chair.

What seemed like a messy seating arrangement actually hid a very strict hierarchy.

Most examinees were wandering around the back rows, looking for their seats,

their eyes filled with both anxiety over the upcoming results and awe for this top-tier institution.

A uniformed usher hurried over to Lin Que and Xu Changge. After confirming their identities, the usher bowed slightly.

"Student Lin, Student Xu, this way please."

Lin Que followed the usher all the way forward.

Passing through the noisy back rows and past the slightly quieter middle rows.

Finally, the usher stopped at a spot in the middle of the third row.

"These are your seats."

Lin Que glanced at them.

The seats in this row were excellent, offering a wide view directly facing the rostrum.

In the row in front of him sat elderly men or middle-aged men in suits.

Judging by the steady composure of their backs alone, one could tell they were either giants of the literary world or titans of the education sector.

In other words, the third row was the highest specification an examinee could sit in.

Lin Que sat down calmly.

Xu Changge sat two empty seats away to his right.

This scene instantly triggered whispers among the examinees in the back rows.

"Holy crap? Am I seeing things? That's the guy who turned in his paper early, right? He gets to sit in the third row?"

A boy wearing glasses pointed at the back of Lin Que's head, his eyes nearly popping out:

"On what grounds? I wrote for the full seventy-two hours and only managed to scramble into the tenth row!"

"Could the seating be based on submission time?"

Someone nearby speculated.

"Stop guessing blindly."

A boy who thought he had seen through to the truth pushed up his glasses:

"Haven't you seen the news? Experts are already suggesting psychological intervention.

The officials placed him in such a conspicuous spot because they're definitely afraid he'll have a mental breakdown and cause a scene, so they put him right under their noses to keep an eye on him!"

"This is called the 'High-Risk Personnel Observation Seat'! Get it?"

"I see..."

The people around him were enlightened, and their gazes toward Lin Que gained a bit more sympathy and wariness.

"Ignore them."

A clear, gentle voice came from beside him.

Xu Changge didn't look back; he turned to face Lin Que.

"Hmm? Was someone talking?"

Lin Que replied casually, picking his ear.

Xu Changge was silent for a moment.

"Lin Que."

Xu Changge didn't sit upright like the others; those eyes, which usually held a hint of aloofness, were now staring intently at Lin Que.

At this moment, he was a reader whose appetite had been whetted by a story, desperately wanting to know the ending.

"Grandfather only told me the outline of your essay, saying you folded the capital into three spaces."

Xu Changge leaned forward slightly and asked in a low voice:

"I'm curious, what happened to the protagonist in the end?"

A near-naive expectation flickered in his eyes—the habitual thinking of someone deeply influenced by traditional heroic narratives.

"Did he start an uprising in the Third Space? Or did he find the key to destroying the folding program and overthrow the city?"

To Xu Changge, since such grand oppression and injustice had been set up, the ending must be a spectacular explosion.

That was the tension literature should have.

Lin Que turned his head, looking into Xu Changge's hopeful eyes.

He suddenly felt it was a bit cruel.

Tearing apart beautiful fantasies for others to see... while satisfying, it was also quite wicked.

Lin Que smiled, reached into his pocket for a box of mints he'd bought at the supermarket by the hotel entrance, unwrapped one, and tossed it into his mouth.

"There was no uprising, and certainly no overthrow."

The cool flavor spread through his mouth.

"The protagonist risked his life crawling through the gaps of gears and steel plates, nearly getting crushed into mincemeat, just to finally scrape together enough for his adopted daughter's kindergarten tuition."

Xu Changge was stunned:

"And then?"

"Then?"

Lin Que crunched the mint in his mouth with a sharp clack.

"He just went back to work."

...