61: So-called prestigious schools

The Jinling International Conference Center Hotel,

this colossal structure standing by Wuxuan Lake,

reflected dazzling golden light under the glow of the setting sun.

The bus slowly stopped in front of the fountain plaza at the hotel entrance.

The door opened, and a rush of air, mixing the scent of osmanthus with the city's heatwave, swept in.

“We're here. Grab your luggage and make sure you don't leave anything behind.”

Shen Qingqiu stood up and clapped her hands.

Lin Que, carrying his schoolbag, slowly ambled off the bus.

The moment his feet touched the ground, a face smiling like a chrysanthemum flower approached him.

“Oh, Teacher Shen, you must be exhausted from the journey.”

The speaker was Liu Yi from Experimental Middle School.

Just a few hours ago,

this man was sarcastically mocking Lin Que for “playing the victim” at the service area.

But now that they had arrived in the provincial capital,

the wrinkles on his face were filled with the warmth of “meeting an old acquaintance in a strange land.”

He held his briefcase and even solicitously offered to help Shen Qingqiu with her suitcase:

“Our Jiangcheng team needs to stick together. This place is unfamiliar, so it’s good to have someone to look out for us.”

Shen Qingqiu subtly avoided his hand, her tone polite but distant:

“Teacher Liu, you are too kind. The suitcase isn't heavy; I can manage.”

Liu Yi didn't seem embarrassed. He turned to Lin Que and gave him a thumbs-up:

“Student Lin, I was just joking on the bus earlier, don't take it to heart.

Ultimately, whether our Jiangcheng gets to shine in this competition depends on you guys from Jiangcheng No. 1 High School.”

Lin Que looked at this middle-aged man whose mood changed faster than turning a page,

and tugged at the corner of his mouth:

“Teacher is right. When traveling, we really must, present a united front.”

Liu Yi clearly didn't pick up on the veiled jab in the remark,

but laughed heartily as if he had received a compliment,

completely oblivious to the clown-watching smile in Lin Que's eyes.

The hotel lobby was spacious, like a small airport waiting area.

The front desk was crowded with teams from all over Su Province,

their various school uniforms forming a colorful sea.

Jiangcheng No. 1 High School's trio stood in a waiting area on one side of the lobby, waiting for Shen Qingqiu to check in.

Zhao Zichen was still holding his copy of the “collection of ancient prose”, muttering to himself.

Zhang Ya nervously adjusted her collar,

occasionally glancing at the contemporaries around her who were chatting and laughing freely.

“Hey, look at that. Isn't that the Jinling High School uniform?

I heard their school alone gets dozens of spots for direct admission to Qingbei every year.”

Zhang Ya lowered her voice and nudged Zhao Zichen beside her.

Zhao Zichen didn't even lift his head:

“So what if they get direct admission? Literature relies on accumulation, not quotas.”

Although he said this, the fingers turning the pages stiffened noticeably.

Just then, a burst of laughter came from nearby.

“Oh, still reciting the ‘collection of ancient prose’? Isn't that material for our junior high morning reading class?”

Several boys wearing navy blue, suit-style school uniforms walked over.

Their uniforms were well-tailored, and an elaborate badge was embroidered on the chest—

Jinling Normal University Affiliated High School.

That was one of the most prestigious schools in Su Province and the main force of the host city this time.

The leading boy was very tall,

wearing black-rimmed glasses, twirling the latest model of a Fruit phone in his hand,

his gaze sweeping over the book in Zhao Zichen's hand.

“Student, what era are we in? Still relying on rote memorization?”

The boy laughed and said to his companions.

“It seems the teaching resources in the lower-tier prefecture-level cities are truly limited; even their preparation methods are so outdated.”

Several Jinling High School students nearby burst into laughter.

“You shouldn't say that. After all, it's the ‘Jieyou Cup’,

maybe they want to use ancient prose to act as a worry solver for the judges?”

“Haha, worry solver? That's hypnosis!”

Zhao Zichen's face instantly turned liver-colored.

He slammed the book shut and stood up,

wanting to retort,

but due to excessive nervousness and anger,

his lips trembled, and he couldn't squeeze out a complete sentence for a long time.

“You guys...”

Zhang Ya also stood up, unable to tolerate the situation.

“What about us?”

The boy with glasses stepped forward, looking down at Zhao Zichen and Zhang Ya.

“Student, this is Jinling.

Literature isn't about showing off knowledge or winning just by studying hard.

Judging by your uniforms... you must be from Jiangcheng?

That place that supposedly doesn't even have a decent bookstore?”

Zhang Ya's eyes reddened with anger next to him, wanting to speak up,

but the other party's innate sense of superiority pressed her down, making her unable to raise her head.

This was the aura of a famous school.

They didn't need to deliberately humiliate; they only needed to stand there,

state “facts” in a matter-of-fact tone,

and they could trample the self-esteem of small-city students underfoot.

As the noise grew louder,

students from other schools nearby also cast curious, spectating glances.

Zhao Zichen tightly gripped the book with one hand, his other hand fidgeting awkwardly.

Just then, a hand lazily rested on Zhao Zichen's shoulder.

“Old Zhao, this is where you're wrong.”

Lin Que yawned and stood up from the sofa behind Zhao Zichen.

His school uniform zipper was still undone, revealing the white T-shirt underneath,

giving him an air of sleepy casualness.

The boy with glasses frowned, looking at this sudden “extra”:

“Who are you?”

Lin Que ignored him, instead patting Zhao Zichen's shoulder and saying earnestly:

“They're right. You really shouldn't memorize this book.

After all, for some people, the wisdom of the ancients is too heavy.

Their tiny brain capacity is already full just holding their sense of superiority,

how could they possibly fit the ‘collection of ancient prose’ in there?”

Zhao Zichen was stunned.

The boy with glasses's expression immediately darkened:

“Who are you calling small-brained?”

“Whoever answers is who I'm talking about.”

Lin Que spread his hands, looking innocent.

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the few students.

“Jinling Normal University Affiliated High School, right? A famous school, much admired.”

Lin Que slowly walked up to the boy with glasses.

Although he was half a head shorter than the other boy, his imposing presence completely overwhelmed him.

“I'm just saying, famous schools are different. Quality education is really done well.

Not only do they teach textbooks, they also teach how to eat superiority for breakfast.

Running up to people and showing off your presence like you're relieving yourself in public,

is this the literary cultivation you're so proud of?

It looks like this cultivation costs a lot of face.”

“You!”

The boy with glasses was choked into silence.

“We were just stating the facts! Rote memorization is inherently an outdated learning method!”

“Outdated?”

Lin Que sneered.

“Five thousand years of writing, and in your mouth, it becomes outdated?

Which of the Chinese characters you speak wasn't passed down by our ancestors?

Picking up the bowl to eat, then putting it down to curse the cook—that's forgetting your roots!”

“Besides,”

Lin Que pointed to the book in Zhao Zichen's hand.

“He memorizes this book for the sake of inheritance.

You mock him for the sake of showing off.

One seeks knowledge, the other pretends to be smart.

The difference is clear. Do we even need to compare?”

This speech, both aggressive and defensive, left the Jinling High School students speechless.

Among the students watching the show, some couldn't help but let out low laughs.

Zhao Zichen stared blankly at Lin Que, who was standing in front of him.

He had always thought Lin Que was just a sly slacker who only wrote dark literature and seized opportunities,

an oddball who couldn't even wear his school uniform properly.

But at this moment,

this oddball was like a wall, shielding him from all the mockery.

“Oh! You... you're also from Jiangcheng No. 1 High School?”

The boy with glasses gritted his teeth.

“Sharp-tongued. I hope your writing hand is half as quick as your mouth when you get to the exam room.”

“Don't worry.”

Lin Que patted his own chest.

“I specialize in curing all kinds of arrogance.”

“Good! Very good!”

The boy with glasses was exasperated and about to step forward to argue.

“What are you doing?”

A cold voice cut in.

Shen Qingqiu finished checking in and walked over, pulling her suitcase.

Her high heels clicked crisply on the marble floor.

Her gaze, sharp as a knife, coldly swept over the Jinling High School students, finally settling on Lin Que.

“Lin Que, are you causing trouble again?”

Although she appeared to be scolding him,

she subtly positioned herself in front of Lin Que and Zhao Zichen, shielding the trio behind her.

Seeing the teacher arrive, the boy with glasses's arrogance immediately subsided by half,

but he still grumbled defiantly:

“Teacher, they started it...”

“Started what?”

Shen Qingqiu cut him off directly.

“This is a public place. What kind of behavior is this, shouting and arguing?

Didn't your teacher tell you that a scholar's pen is for writing essays, not for pointing fingers?”

She turned her head, looking at the school badge on the students' chests, her tone indifferent:

“Normal University Affiliated High School?

If this is the hospitality of the hosts, then we, Jiangcheng No. 1 High School, have been enlightened.”

After speaking, she didn't give the other party a chance to explain, stuffing the room card into Lin Que's arms.

“Take the room card and go upstairs.

The competition is tomorrow. Instead of wasting time arguing, go back and get some sleep.”

Lin Que took the room card, made a face at the boy with glasses,

then pulled the still-dazed Zhao Zichen and Zhang Ya, and swaggered toward the elevator lobby.

The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off the view of the outside.

In the cramped space, Zhao Zichen tightly hugged his book,

lowering his head, remaining silent for a long time.

It wasn't until the elevator reached their floor,

that he suddenly spoke, his voice quiet but very clear.

“Lin Que... thanks.”

Lin Que paused, looked back at him, and casually waved his hand:

“Don't misunderstand, I wasn't helping you.

I just can't stand those jerks. They grew up eating rice like everyone else, but they insist on acting like they eat gold dust.”

Zhao Zichen watched his retreating back, pushed up his glasses,

and showed a genuine smile for the first time.

This guy, maybe he wasn't so annoying after all...