73: I know what I'm doing.

The Jiangcheng No. 1 High School bus hadn't fully stopped yet,

but the people inside the bus could already feel the suffocating enthusiasm from outside the windows.

At the school gate, two red banners with gold characters were stretched taut.

The one on the left read:

“Warm congratulations to our students Zhao Zichen and Zhang Ya for winning first and third prizes respectively in the Provincial Essay Competition!”

The one on the right was even more exaggerated, with characters a size larger,

the gold powder dazzling in the sunlight:

“Good News! Heartfelt congratulations to Lin Que from Class 3, Grade 2, for winning the only Grand Prize in the First 'Jieyou Cup' Provincial Competition!”

Besides the banners, there were also two rows of students standing at the entrance,

wearing ceremonial attire usually reserved for inspections by higher-ranking officials.

They held plastic flowers that looked like they'd been dug out from somewhere.

Principal Jiang Changfeng stood at the very front, his usually stern face now contorted into a grin, holding a megaphone.

His usually serious face was now a cluster of smiles, and he held a megaphone.

Lin Que stared at the two rows of students outside the window, who looked like receptionists, and swallowed:

“Teacher Shen, if I start foaming at the mouth now, can I be sent directly to the infirmary?”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu touched up her lipstick in a small mirror, not even lifting her eyelids:

“You can try.

However, Principal Jiang stopped the inter-class exercises for this grand show.

If you dare to faint, he’ll have people carry you around the track three times, with the banner covering you.”

“...”

Lin Que imagined that scene and decided it would be more dignified to walk off alive.

The bus door opened with a “hiss.”

Before anyone could react, a deafening sound of gongs and drums erupted outside.

Several sports students hammered at the gongs and drums as if they had a vendetta against them, completely without rhythm.

It sounded less like a welcoming ceremony and more like an old-fashioned yamen court session,

failing to convey majesty and only succeeding in disturbing the peace.

“Welcome! Welcome! A warm welcome!”

Principal Jiang led the chanting of slogans, his megaphone emitting a piercing screech.

Zhao Zichen walked in front, holding his trophy.

Although he was mentally prepared, he was still so startled by the spectacle that he started walking out of sync.

He pushed up his glasses and waved stiffly,

looking like an official who had just arrived for an inspection in the countryside.

When it was Lin Que’s turn to get off the bus, the sound of gongs and drums suddenly rose an octave.

As soon as the car door opened a crack, Principal Jiang’s well-maintained face squeezed through.

He stepped onto the footboard in two strides, clamped Lin Que’s right hand with both hands,

and shook it up and down at a frequency that almost rivaled a pile driver.

“Student Lin Que! Excellent! You’ve brought so much honor to our No. 1 High School!”

The megaphone blared right next to his ear, accompanied by a spray of saliva.

“Grand Prize! The only Grand Prize in the entire province!”

Principal Jiang was so excited that the flesh on his cheeks trembled.

“Even the provincial department leaders specifically praised you! Our No. 1 High School hasn’t produced such a… such a gifted seedling like you in many years!”

Lin Que struggled to pull his hand back, a standard fake smile on his face:

“You flatter me, Principal. It’s all thanks to Teacher Shen’s excellent guidance.”

“Teacher Shen certainly deserves credit!”

Principal Jiang turned to look at Teacher Shen Qingqiu, his eyes benevolent.

“Teacher Shen, your bonus will be doubled this time!

Additionally, the school will fully recommend you for the city’s outstanding teacher selection!”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu nodded reservedly, but the smile in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.

“Oh, Lin Que.”

Principal Jiang changed the subject and patted Lin Que’s shoulder.

“You’ll give a speech at Monday’s flag-raising ceremony.

Write the draft carefully! It needs to be profound! It needs to be sharp!

Since the provincial leaders called you a ‘scalpel,’

then we must show the blade’s edge!

Of course…”

The principal changed his tone again, lowering his voice.

“Still, you need to pay a little attention to the boundaries, to have that… what was that word again?

Right, a deafening momentum!”

Lin Que’s smile froze on his face.

“Principal, can we skip the speech? I have social anxiety.”

“Social anxiety?”

Principal Jiang’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t seem to have social anxiety when you said ‘literature is a scalpel’ on the provincial award stage.

It’s settled! This is an assignment!”

With that, Principal Jiang waved his hand,

signaling the drum and bugle corps to continue playing, giving no chance for refusal... Back in the classroom, Lin Que received a hero's welcome.

Wu Di rushed over like a human battering ram,

and if Lin Que hadn't dodged quickly, he probably would have suffered internal injuries.

“Brother Que! You’re amazing!”

Wu Di grabbed Lin Que’s shoulders and shook him violently.

“A Grand Prize! I heard it was a perfect score given by Teacher Jian Shen!”

Lin Que, dizzy from the shaking, slapped his hand away:

“Gentler, my bones are brittle.”

“Brother Que, spill the beans?”

Wu Di lowered his voice, his chubby face almost touching Lin Que’s nose.

“The next class is going crazy, saying you wrote about a perverted serial killer,

and even wrote the judges into the book? Is it true?”

Wu Di was full of gossip.

The surrounding classmates also pricked up their ears.

Zhang Ya sat in the front row, and although she didn’t turn around,

her back was ramrod straight, clearly eavesdropping.

“Nothing much.”

Lin Que shoved his backpack into the desk and leaned on it.

“I just wrote about an old homeless man cursing. If you want to read it, wait until the school magazine is printed.”

“Tch, boring.”

Wu Di pouted, then lowered his voice again, leaning in mysteriously.

“By the way, Brother Que, have you seen it?

That 'the human world is like a prison' has been updated!

The Dream Weaver is too wild; the protagonist encountered a competition, but directly chopped off the examiner’s head!

I think the book reviews are right, do you think he’s also hinting at this essay competition?”

Lin Que’s eyelid twitched.

“Maybe.”

He replied vaguely.

“Just a coincidence.”

“What coincidence! This is called a telepathic connection!”

Wu Di looked reverent.

“I think the Dream Weaver must be a cynical handsome guy, a perfect match for your speech on stage this time!

Hey, should I leave a comment in the review section saying that there’s someone just as wild at our school?”

“Don’t.”

Lin Que quickly interrupted him.

“Absolutely not. You’d be bringing trouble to the Dream Weaver. Be low-key, understand?”

Wu Di scratched his head:

“Alright. But Brother Que, what are you planning to talk about for Monday’s speech?

I heard Director Fei is scrutinizing your draft with a magnifying glass,

afraid you’ll go up there and say something strange again like ‘hothouse flowers.’”

Lin Que sighed, staring at the blank A4 paper in his hand, his head throbbing.

What to say?

What could he say?

Should he talk about how 'the person waiting to die' was conceived?

Or should he say that this Grand Prize was actually awarded by himself?

Should he talk about how he just finished writing about Yang Jian beheading the examiner on the bus?

If he really dared to say that, Director Fei would be in the ICU tomorrow,

and the banners at the school gate would be replaced with white elegiac couplets on a black background.

“Lin Que, come out for a moment.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu’s voice came from the doorway.

Lin Que resignedly stood up and walked out under the gaze of the entire class.

At the end of the corridor, Teacher Shen Qingqiu leaned by the window, holding a thermos cup.

The wind ruffled the wisps of hair by her ears, making her look softer than usual.

“Have you written the speech draft?”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu got straight to the point.

“Not yet, I’m still struggling.”

Lin Que leaned on the windowsill, watching the students playing soccer on the field downstairs.

“Teacher, can you talk to the principal and let Zhao Zichen go instead?

He won first prize, has a good image and temperament, and speaks well; he’s definitely a spokesperson for positive energy.”

“Zhao Zichen will also speak; he’s the regular representative. You are the special guest.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu unscrewed the lid of her cup and took a sip of water.

“The principal said if you don’t speak, this year’s air conditioning fee will be deducted from your scholarship.”

“...”

Lin Que ground his molars.

“That’s too much.”

“Alright, stop messing around.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu turned her head and looked at Lin Que.

“Lin Que, I know you don’t like this kind of formalism.

But some things, since they were said at the provincial level, it wouldn’t hurt to say them again at school.”

“Look down there.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu gestured with her chin towards the window.

“These kids, their eyes have lost their spark.

It’s all about scores and rankings; they live like canned goods on an assembly line.

Go and make some noise for them, tell them,

there are other ways to live beyond the can lid.”

Lin Que was silent for a moment.

He looked at the figures running in school uniforms downstairs,

which was the original appearance of youth, yet disciplined into neat rows.

“Alright then.”

Lin Que straightened up and clapped the dust off his hands.

“Since Teacher Shen has said so, I’ll be the ‘villain’ one more time.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu smiled and reached out to smooth his collar.

“Don’t go too far; Director Fei has a weak heart.”

“Don’t worry.”

Lin Que blinked.

“I have my limits. The content will definitely be profound and unforgettable for everyone.”

Teacher Shen Qingqiu watched his retreating back,

and a premonition suddenly rose in her heart.

This kid’s ‘limits’ usually didn’t quite align with what normal people understood…