92: I'm a slow bird, I have to fly first.

During Monday's history class, the chalkboard still bore chalk writing that the student on duty hadn't fully erased: "Forever young, forever undying."

The history teacher, Mr. Zhu, held an eraser and gestured at that line for a long moment before finally sighing, starting a new line to write: "Western Zhou Feudal System."

He pushed up his glasses, which were as thick as beer bottle bottoms, and his gaze swept across the back row.

Wu Di, who was usually the first to be called out by a piece of chalk, was sitting upright today, holding a brand-new notebook with the words "A person dies three times..." clearly copied on the title page.

Mr. Zhu's gaze passed over Wu Di and landed on the culprit.

Lin Que was propping up his chin, twirling his pen in boredom.

Mr. Zhu opened his mouth, but the reprimand that had reached his lips was ultimately swallowed back down.

Just then, the sound of leather shoes striking the marble floor drifted in from the corridor outside the classroom. Tap, tap, tap.

The sound was heavy and rhythmic. With every beat, the students in the class who had been sneaking glances at novels or playing on their phones in their desks would, like startled groundhogs, quickly tuck their heads back in and sit up straight.

This was the unique footstep of the Dean of Students, Fei Yuncheng; it carried a level of intimidation unique to the whole school.

The history teacher was an old man nearing retirement named Zhu. He usually turned a deaf ear to matters outside his classroom, but even he found it hard to continue lecturing with that figure pacing back and forth at the door.

He pushed up his glasses, thick as beer bottle bottoms, and glanced at the door several times.

Suddenly, a face appeared on the palm-sized glass window of the back door.

Director Fei stood there with his hands behind his back, not saying a word, just staring expressionlessly at the last row of the classroom. His gaze was colder than the winter wind.

Mr. Zhu finally couldn't help it; he put down the chalk, opened the front door, and walked out.

"Fei Yuncheng?" Mr. Zhu lowered his voice. "Is something the matter? If these kids have broken discipline again, I'll deal with them after class."

"No, no, no, Mr. Zhu, please continue your lecture." Fei Yuncheng waved his hand, managing a rare expression of kindness. "The classroom discipline is quite good. I'm just... looking for someone."

"Who are you looking for?" "Lin Que."

Upon hearing this name, Mr. Zhu's expression immediately became complicated. It held both the headache of a teacher and the cautiousness of someone facing a "wenqu star."

He looked back at the corner; the kid was staring blankly at the withered branches outside the window, not sleeping or causing trouble.

"Alright, I'll call him." Mr. Zhu returned to the podium and tapped the blackboard: "Lin Que, come out for a moment. Fei Yuncheng is looking for you."

The entire class's gaze instantly converged on the corner.

Wu Di was startled by the voice and jerked his head up, silver drool hanging from the corner of his mouth as he looked around blankly: "Class over? Time to eat?"

Lin Que slapped his rapidly spinning ballpoint pen onto the desk and stood up slowly. Under the gaze of the entire class, he even helped steady a book that was about to fall off Wu Di's desk before sauntering out the back door.

The wind in the corridor was a bit chilly. Fei Yuncheng stood there, still holding that chipped thermos.

"Director, you were looking for me?" Lin Que leaned against the wall, his school uniform zipper pulled to the top, covering half his face and revealing only a pair of sleepy eyes.

Fei Yuncheng looked him up and down. Instead of getting straight to the point, he unscrewed the cup lid and blew on the steam: "How are your studies lately? I noticed you don't really listen in class. Do you think the material is too simple?"

"How could that be?" Lin Que replied lazily. "It's too hard, I don't understand, and I'm worried about it. Just now, when Mr. Zhu was talking about the major and minor clans, my brain was about to explode."

Fei Yuncheng almost choked on the steam from his thermos. Someone who gets a perfect score on history in every monthly exam is playing illiterate with him right now?

He rolled his eyes at Lin Que, annoyed. "Alright, stop playing dumb with me."

Fei Yuncheng stopped beating around the bush and closed the thermos. "I called you out because there's a serious matter. Next Wednesday, the Writers Association is holding an event in Jinling called the New Writers Summit Forum."

Lin Que's eyelid twitched. As expected. Ever since he received the emails from Green Ivy and Wang De'an last night, he had anticipated this.

Since Fang Zhenyun had set this trap, he naturally had included both "Jian Shen" and "Dream Weaver" in his calculations.

Those two identities naturally couldn't attend. Therefore, the only one who could appear was him, this "genius high school student Lin Que."

It was perfect; he also wanted to see what expression Fang Zhenyun would have when both of them were absent, and he, the "up-and-coming talent," took the stage.

"A forum? Director, have mercy on me. That kind of occasion is just a bunch of old men drinking tea and bragging to each other. What can I do there? Recite something?" Lin Que feigned a confused look.

"Recite what? It's a serious literary seminar." Fei Yuncheng pulled a neatly folded official document from his pocket.

"Given that you won the first prize winner this time, and Zhao Zichen from the senior year also won a first prize, the Writers Association specially sent an invitation, hoping you two would attend as student representatives."

"Not just you, all the first prize winners of this competition will be there!" He paused, his tone becoming earnest: "Lin Que, this is a great opportunity. The people attending are prominent writers, critics, and even editors-in-chief of major magazines in the province. If you show your face, it will be of immense benefit to your future independent admissions or if you choose to pursue the path of literature."

Lin Que took the document and scanned it. Organizer: Su Province Writers Association. Co-organizer: Shiyue Magazine Agency. Special Guests: Chairman of the Writers Association: Gu Changfeng; Vice Chairman of the Writers Association: Liang Wenyou; Editor-in-Chief of October: Zhu Yaozhang; Deputy Editor-in-Chief of October: Fang Zhenyun...

Seeing the name "Fang Zhenyun," the smile in Lin Que's heart deepened. This Editor-in-Chief Fang had gone to great lengths, casting a wide net to catch all the fish, preparing to capture Jian Shen, Dream Weaver, and the genius youth Lin Que all at once. It was just a pity that these three fish were actually just one.

"Director, this..." Lin Que handed the document back, his face full of difficulty. "Next Friday... there won't be many days left before the final exams. The main thing is, I feel this first prize winner title is a bit unearned; there was too much luck involved."

He sighed, his tone sounding very sincere: "Director, I know my own capabilities. Liberal arts are okay, but I'm a half-baked amateur in science. If I go out and show off with the title of first prize winner, and then end up at the bottom of the class in the final exams, it will be our school and your reputation that suffers."

He paused, then added another strike. "By then, my mom will say I failed to live up to the school and teachers' cultivation."

He put on a pained expression again: "As for this kind of high-profile event, why not let Zhao Zichen go alone? He's a top student, so missing two days is fine. I can't; I'm a slow bird, I must start early."

Fei Yuncheng was choked up by his words. A slow bird must start early? If you're a slow bird, there isn't a bird in the whole school that can fly.

But Lin Que's words had a point; the school valued grades above all else. Since he was using studying as a shield, Fei Yuncheng really couldn't force him.

"This opportunity is very rare." Fei Yuncheng frowned. "And this time, the province specifically requested to see you. If you say you won't go, isn't that rejecting the leaders' face?"

"Face is a small matter, but the future is a big one." Lin Que looked sincere. "Director, I really want to go, but my physics and chemistry... sigh, it's a long story."

Fei Yuncheng's hand holding the thermos paused in mid-air, and his mouth, blowing on the steam, also stopped. His eyes, behind the thick lenses, narrowed.

This kid, where is he a slow bird starting early? He is clearly playing dumb while knowing everything, trying to negotiate with him!

"Alright." Fei Yuncheng said in an annoyed tone. "As long as you attend this forum and use that cleverness of yours on the right path, when you return to school, you can pick any teacher from the science group. If you don't want that, I will personally tutor you one-on-one until your final exams are over. Will that do?"

Lin Que pretended his eyes lit up. "Director, are you serious?"

"When have I ever lied to students?" Fei Yuncheng glared.

"Got it!" Lin Que immediately changed his expression, smiling brighter than a flower. "Since the Director supports my literary dreams so much, if I refuse again, I'd be ungrateful. I'll go! I guarantee I'll complete the mission and win glory for our school!"

The speed of his change in expression was astounding. Fei Yuncheng shook his head helplessly and waved him away: "Go back to class quickly! Stop loitering outside."

"Alright." Lin Que turned and opened the back door. The moment he stepped into the classroom, his mouth curled up inadvertently.

The refusal was fake; accepting the challenge was real. Since Fang Zhenyun had gone to such lengths to set a table to catch both of him at once, if he didn't go and crash the party himself, wouldn't he be letting down the other party's good intentions?