347: Chapter 347 Meeting at the Summit

At 4:20 PM, ten minutes remained before the final bell rang for all high schools in Jiangcheng.

On the homepage of the Jiangcheng Municipal Education Bureau's official website, as well as the internal office network of the city's education system, a pop-up window suddenly appeared, occupying half the screen.

A formal document, stamped with the bright red seal of the Municipal Education Bureau, was dispatched to the principal's office and academic affairs terminals of every key high school in the city.

The document's title was in bold black: "Notice Regarding the Hosting of the First 'Jiangcheng Youth Literature Open Class'."

The content was extremely concise, but every arrangement was so hardcore it left people speechless.

The time was set for 2:00 PM this Saturday, September 15th.

The venue: the main stadium of the Jiangcheng Olympic Sports Center.

The document did not force attendance; instead, it opened the live broadcast signal to all high schools in the city.

Schools were encouraged to organize viewings based on their circumstances, with voluntary student registration and class-led organization.

However,

even without a mandate, this open class, headlined by the "National Champion,"

still swept through every corner of the Jiangcheng education community like a hurricane in a very short time.

Jiangcheng No. 13 High School.

Grade 12 Class 1.

Inside this prestigious, long-standing school that constantly vied with Jiangcheng No. 1 High School for the city's top college entrance rate, the classroom near the end of the day remained so quiet that only the rustling of pens across exam papers could be heard.

On the podium, the homeroom teacher, Li Wei, had just turned off his phone screen.

He looked up at the group of top students below, who didn't even bother looking up when the bell was about to ring.

"Students, put your pens down for a moment. I have an announcement from the bureau."

Old Li cleared his throat and read the key points of the formal document.

When he reached the words "Speaker: Lin Que,"

the classroom, previously silent save for the rustling of pens, instantly erupted in an unusual commotion.

"Lin Que? It's actually Lin Que!?"

A student in the second row, ranked in the top ten of the grade, looked up, their pen hovering over the scratch paper.

"The Olympic Sports Center!"

A boy in the back row spoke with obvious shock in his voice.

"Isn't that a concert-level venue? They're holding a writing class there now?"

Old Li stood on the podium, looking at the top students who usually only cared about grinding through mock exams.

"The bureau also mentioned that since it's a city-wide open class, although the Olympic Sports Center is large, the spots allocated to each school are limited."

"Our class will prioritize voluntary registration. If the number of applicants exceeds our quota, the top 20 students from the most recent monthly exam will go to the venue. The rest will watch the live stream in class."

As soon as Old Li finished speaking, the room exploded.

A boy in the back slammed his pen on the desk and wailed:

"Top twenty? I was ranked twenty-third in the last monthly exam! I missed it by three spots!"

"Teacher Li, when is the registration deadline?"

Several girls by the window stood up in a panic, their minds already flying toward the Olympic Sports Center.

On the third floor of the same building as Grade 12 Class 1, in the Chinese Language Teaching and Research Group office, the atmosphere was entirely different.

Over a dozen veteran Chinese teachers with more than fifteen years of experience

were sitting around a desk, their brows furrowed into knots.

The head of the research group, Zhang Chaowei, pushed up his reading glasses and tapped his finger twice on the words "Speaker: Lin Que."

"The bureau is taking things a bit too far this time."

Zhang Chaowei's voice carried the rigor accumulated over decades.

"I finished reading 'folding beijing' yesterday."

"From the perspective of literary achievement and realist criticism, this child is indeed a rare and promising talent."

"But literary creation and College Entrance Examination essays are two completely different things."

A female teacher nearby, who had led four graduating classes of seniors, took off her glasses to wipe them.

Her tone revealed genuine concern.

"It's not that I doubt the boy's ability."

"'folding beijing' is indeed well-written; there's no arguing that."

"What I'm worried about are the students."

"A seventeen-year-old national champion holding a class at the Olympic Sports Center—with such a grand spectacle, the students will be blinded by his halo before they even walk in."

"They'll be so full of fan-like excitement that they won't listen to a word he says on stage. When they come back, they still won't know how to write their essays."

Another middle-aged male teacher with rimless glasses took a sip from his thermos, the lid squeaking as he twisted it.

"My question is a bit more direct."

"The bureau upgraded a school sharing session into a city-wide open class, with the Olympic Sports Center, live broadcasts, and recordings."

"With this flurry of moves, who is actually benefiting—the students, or the performance reports?"

"If a seventeen-year-old kid messes up under this kind of spotlight, who's going to pick up the pieces?"

Zhang Chaowei sighed and closed the document.

"Old Wu, don't be so absolute. Though, the spectacle is indeed a bit much."

He rose slowly and looked toward the direction of the Olympic Sports Center.

"We'll see when we get to the venue on Saturday. I just hope the boy's character is steady enough not to be consumed by the fire the bureau has lit."

Zhang Chaowei's concerns were not groundless.

In fact, as the notice was issued,

this complex mix of expectation and scrutiny was rapidly spreading through the teaching and research groups of high schools across Jiangcheng.

That evening, the entire education circle in Jiangcheng was waiting to see one thing—

whether a seventeen-year-old could truly handle a podium before tens of thousands at the Olympic Sports Center.

5:30 PM.

The bell signaling the end of classes rang on time at Jiangcheng No. 1 High School.

The corridors flooded with students heading to the cafeteria or going home, preparing for evening self-study.

Meanwhile, in the Grade 12 Class 3 classroom,

Lin Que sat in his seat, calmly stacking his textbooks and exam papers one by one and putting them into his black backpack.

After today, he would no longer have to sit through high school classes in the usual routine.

Zipping it up, Lin Que swung the bag over his shoulder with one hand and stood up from his chair.

In the back of the classroom, Wu Di, Li Bowen, Fang Zhiyuan, and several other boys he was close with were already waiting.

Wu Di approached, his usually jovial face now tense.

He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to crack a joke to lighten the mood,

but the words came out as a nasal whisper:

"Brother Que, you're really leaving... Once you're gone, the back row won't have its backbone anymore."

Fang Zhiyuan stood nearby, his eyes also slightly red. He patted Lin Que heavily on the shoulder, his voice trembling:

"Brother Que, having a great writer like you come out of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School gives us brothers something to brag about."

"Don't forget us when you get to Beijing."

Looking at these classmates he had known across two lifetimes, a hint of warmth rose in Lin Que's eyes.

He reached out and gave the shoulders of Wu Di and Fang Zhiyuan a firm squeeze.

"Our homes are all in Jiangcheng; it's not like we'll never see each other again."

Lin Que's voice was gentle yet firm.

"Don't slack off while I'm gone. Study hard for the exams. When you come to Beijing, I'll treat you to roast duck."

Wu Di sniffled hard and nodded vigorously:

"I'm going to eat you out of house and home then."

Li Bowen stood to the side, pushing up his black-rimmed glasses.

He didn't joke around like Wu Di and the others; instead, he looked at Lin Que with extreme solemnity.

"Lin Que," Li Bowen's voice was steady, carrying the characteristic seriousness of a science student.

"You go conquer your literary world, and we'll stay in Jiangcheng for the College Entrance Examination. Let's meet at the peak."

Lin Que looked into Li Bowen's persistent eyes.

Without hesitation, he reached out his right hand and gave him a heavy high-five in mid-air.

A crisp high-five echoed in the back of the classroom.

"Meet at the peak."

Lin Que's voice was plain, yet it carried immense weight.

He let go, waved to the classmates who had shared these youthful years with him, and turned to walk out the back door of Grade 12 Class 3.

The setting sun in the corridor was just right, stretching his shadow long.

Carrying his backpack, Lin Que walked down the stairs, through the tree-lined path, and out the gate of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School.

Saturday at the Olympic Sports Center—a grand scene of tens of thousands, under the scrutinizing gaze of the city's teaching research groups.

Lin Que faced the evening breeze, his pace never faltering.

...