103: Chapter 103 Jiang Family Bricks

[Ten years of hard study, today the pen is set to paper.]

[Dedicate this chapter to every student heading to the exam.]

[May the wind rise beneath your pen, and may every question you encounter be one you know how to solve; may you have a clear plan in your heart, and may every solution have a standard answer.]

June 7th.

For the tens of millions of Grade 3 students in China, this was the day that determined the turning direction of the gears of fate.

The eastern horizon had just begun to show a trace of extremely faint pale white, and the entire city was still immersed in a great silence.

Jiang Jianguo and Zhang Xiufen had already gotten up on tiptoe in the hotel suite.

They were ten thousand times worried about breakfast outside.

They had seen too many tragic cases in the news where a single youtiao or a steamed bun caused candidates to suffer from acute gastroenteritis and underperform.

Zhang Xiufen stubbornly wrapped the rarely used electric pot from home, two small enamel pots, and even the porcelain bowl and stainless steel chopsticks used by Jiang Lin for three years in plastic wrap, stuffed them into a suitcase, and brought them over.

After confirming with the front desk that they could use the electric pot to cook porridge, the two used the simple kitchen provided by the hotel to cook porridge and boil eggs.

When the alarm set by Jiang Lin went off and he pushed open the room door, a breakfast with a balanced nutritional match and a temperature just right for direct consumption was already placed on the table.

The parents sat across the table, and although they tried their best to hide it, they still occasionally observed the condition of their son out of the corner of their eyes.

Finding that Jiang Lin looked calm and full of energy, eating eggs bite by bite and drinking millet porridge, his movements no different from usual at home, the hearts of the old couple hanging in their throats finally settled down slightly.

You must know that these two parents, lying on that wide and comfortable luxury big bed last night, stubbornly stared at each other with wide eyes for most of the night and hardly slept at all.

They were afraid that the three alarm clocks they set would fail at the same time, afraid that a sudden rainstorm would hit today and cause urban waterlogging, and afraid that the fire alarm of the hotel would sound by mistake.

Even though the news had long been overwhelmingly promoting that public security, traffic police, and school security personnel would escort the Gaokao all the way, they still had the anxiety that every Chinese parent inevitably felt on the eve of the Gaokao.

"The exam is high intensity and consumes brainpower, eat more." Zhang Xiufen peeled another boiled egg into his bowl.

After finishing breakfast and about to go out, Jiang Jianguo rarely put on that set of white shirt, suit pants, and leather shoes that he only wore when visiting relatives and eating wedding banquets.

Zhang Xiufen even changed into a Hanfu symbolizing immediate success.

The bright red color looked slightly abrupt on her, but she straightened her back as if putting on an impregnable suit of armor.

Jiang Lin could actually be considered someone who had lived through several major halves of a lifetime.

Whether he walked to the exam room alone or accompanied by ten thousand people would not have any impact on the results of his answers.

However, looking at the waist of his father, which was deliberately straightened but could not hide a slight hunch, looking at his mother smoothing the stray hair at her temples with her hands frequently due to nervousness, and looking at these two people taking leave for him, moving to the hotel, and guarding with trepidation,

was it not all for this moment, being able to accompany him to walk through the last leg of his high school career?

If he calmly said a sentence at this moment like "I can go by myself, no need to send me off", then all the busyness, waiting, and psychological construction of his parents over the past few days would become an unsettled regret.

Accompanying for the exam has never been about that exam lasting tens of minutes.

What is being accompanied is the child.

It is telling the child with a silent body language that no matter how difficult it is inside, no matter whether you are invincible or defeated inside, Mom and Dad are outside the door. If you turn around, you can see them.

"Alright, many hands make light work. Dad, Mom, let us go together, and success will be immediate."

Hearing her son actually joking, the originally tense cheeks of Zhang Xiufen instantly relaxed, smiling joyfully and nodding repeatedly, "Right, right, success will be immediate."

She nimbly picked up the transparent stationery bag of Jiang Lin, checked it carefully for the third time, and then, like magic, casually stuffed two pieces of high-calorie dark chocolate into it.

The family of three tidied up and prepared to go out.

The phone of Jiang Lin rang.

It was called by Jiang Yao, who lived near No. 1 High School.

"Jiang Lin, come on!"

The voice of the girl was crisp and bright, piercing through the still somewhat sticky air of the early morning, exceptionally spirited.

After shouting this, the other end of the phone fell into a brief silence.

Jiang Yao herself seemed to feel a bit rash.

Jiang Lin could even imagine her sticking out her tongue somewhat embarrassedly on the other end.

Because even she herself knew clearly in her heart.

The boy standing before her was the person on this planet today who least needed cheering on for an ordinary high school Physics exam.

Yet she still wanted to shout.

Even knowing he did not need it, even knowing that the future trajectories of the two might be like stars that were hard to intersect again.

"You too, Jiang Yao, Gaokao questions, no matter how difficult they look, all have standard answers."

The voice of Jiang Lin was gentle, carrying a comforting power.

Jiang Yao on the other end of the phone froze for a moment, her clear eyes widened slightly, and then she came to a sudden realization.

That was right, there are standard answers.

Gaokao, no matter how it was portrayed in the eyes of tens of millions of candidates as an unsurpassable mountain,

at least it was a mountain that had been measured by countless predecessors, whose steps had been paved by the question setters, and which could be climbed to the top.

As long as you do not get nervous, just follow the knowledge you have learned and crawl step by step toward the top of the mountain.

"Mm, I will climb up."

The voice of Jiang Yao became unprecedentedly firm.

The adults of both families watched the tacit interaction between the children from the side and all showed knowing smiles.

This was what youth should look like.

The hotel was very close to No. 7 High School, only less than two intersections away.

It was still early, and walking over was more than enough.

Along this tree-lined path leading to No. 7 High School, Jiang Lin had walked back and forth with his schoolbag on his back for a full three years, and would not get lost even with his eyes closed.

Only today, on this familiar road, something had completely changed.

Walking to the first intersection, while waiting for the red light, the surrounding air began to experience a subtle commotion.

At first, it was just a few gazes lingering on Jiang Lin.

"Hey, look quickly, does that student not look like Jiang Lin on the internet?" a morning commuter pushing a bicycle lowered his voice and said to the person beside him.

"Which Jiang Lin? Damn, that high school student who proved a world-class problem, it really seems to be him."

"Good heavens, he actually went out on the street."

Several parents who were also sending their children to the exam, or passersby going to work early, went from initial hesitant glances to surprise after confirmation.

Then, they unanimously raised their mobile phones, aimed at the direction of Jiang Lin, and started shooting.

There were also a few bold young people hesitating, with excitement and even fanaticism flashing in their eyes, unconsciously moving forward, as if wanting to come up and ask for a photo together.

Ever since he was filmed with dozens of cameras pointed at his face at the school gate that day, that profile of his face, that pair of seemingly overly calm eyes,

matched with various emotional or shocking titles such as 《National Treasure-level Genius!》, 《At Eighteen, How Did He End a World-Class Problem?》, and 《The Suddenly Emerging Mathematical God》, had been edited with background music over and over again on short video platforms across the entire network, played more than tens of millions of times.

He was now a person whose face could be recognized at a glance by netizens across the city and even the whole country.

Not to mention, not far from this intersection, on the huge LED screen hanging on the outer wall of the large supermarket, which was as tall as three floors, all expensive commercial advertisements had stopped at this moment.

It was rolling and broadcasting Jiangcheng local news, one of which had a background image that was a high-definition front photo of Jiang Lin magnified countless times.

Next to it, in striking large red characters with a hint of showing off and incomparable pride, it was written:

[Light of Jiangcheng! Warmly congratulate young student Jiang Lin of our city for successfully conquering world-class mathematical problems. At the same time, we wish all candidates that their pens bloom with flowers and they successfully pass the examinations!]

There were still a long thirty seconds left for the red light.

In the crowd, more and more people recognized him.

Exclamations, pointing, and discussions surged like a tide, gradually surrounding the five of them in the middle.

"Goodness, is he actually still coming to take the Gaokao? Did Tsinghua University and Peking University not fight over him? He is already deified, what is he still testing for?"

"You do not understand this, do you? This is called experiencing life, going through the motions, and by the way, getting the signboard of the provincial top scorer for Jiangcheng No. 7 High School."

"Shoot quickly, shoot quickly, post it on Moments, I am at the same traffic light as the study god, bless my second child to pass the final exam."

...

Various voices intertwined together.

When had Jiang Jianguo and Zhang Xiufen ever seen such a battle array of being watched and photographed by so many people while walking on the road?

The subconscious reaction of the couple was to cling closely to their son on the left and right like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

Jiang Jianguo even opened his arms, using his not-so-broad shoulders to block the thrusting lenses and fanatical gazes for his son, his expression both guarded and at a loss.

Right at this moment, the green light turned on.

"Dad, Mom, never mind them, let us go."

Jiang Lin backhanded and gripped the somewhat stiff wrists of his parents, and amidst the ups and downs of exclamations, he strode out with long legs and quickly crossed the road.

Walking to the gate of No. 7 High School.

The scene here was even more spectacular than the intersection.

Fortunately, those media bloggers who had blocked the place for traffic for several days had long been completely cleared out under the joint clearance of the police station, traffic police, and the school security department.

Outside the examination center, two long yellow cordon lines were pulled up.

Every three meters, a police officer stood to maintain order.

The loudspeaker repeatedly played the prompt that parents should wait outside the cordon line and candidates should enter the venue with their admission tickets.

Above the huge retractable gate at the school entrance, only one banner used to hang in previous years.

Today, above the red banner of [Decisive Battle Gaokao, Top the Imperial Examination], an even more striking and larger golden banner was hung high.

[Warmly congratulate student Jiang Lin of Grade 3 Class 4 in our school for achieving world-class mathematical research results!]

Jiang Lin stopped, raised his head to look at the banner fluttering in the wind, and touched his nose somewhat helplessly.

The school was using their most familiar, traditional, and solemn way to express an almost fanatical pride.

The examination center entrance began to verify admission tickets, allowing only candidates to enter.

Outside the cordon line, Jiang Jianguo and Zhang Xiufen were forced to stop their footsteps.

"Test well."

Jiang Jianguo looked at his son, who was half a head taller than him, his lips moved, and there were thousands of words, which finally turned into three words.

Zhang Xiufen spoke more than him, her eyes red, naggingly chanting those few things that had passed through her mind hundreds of times once again.

"Do not be nervous, answer slowly."

"Mom and your dad are not going anywhere, we will wait for you to come out under the shade of the trees outside this door, drink the water given to you if you are thirsty."

Jiang Lin listened attentively to these instructions he had long known by heart, and nodded heavily.

"Mm, I know, Dad, Mom, rest assured."

After speaking, holding the stationery bag, he walked step by step into the school gate that belonged only to candidates.

Behind him were countless figures looking forward with eager anticipation, just like Jiang Jianguo and Zhang Xiufen.

In the morning, the Chinese exam.

For Jiang Lin, there was not much to say.

Chinese, aside from logical analysis, was more about emotional empathy and years of cultural accumulation.

He finished writing them one by one step by step.

The math in the afternoon was, for Jiang Lin, actually a miniature of this Gaokao.

In his eyes, all the questions were equally clear and regular, and each one clearly told him what was required.

Almost the exact moment he saw the questions clearly, the complete solution to the entire question, all the boundaries, and the optimal path had already automatically spread out in his mind into a clear diagram.

This was a reaction that did not require invoking any computing power.

Just like a person who saw a step on the ground would subconsciously know to lift their foot and step over it.

He would not feel that stepping over that step was difficult at all.

He would not even realize that he had stepped over it.

What Jiang Lin really needed to think about was how to write out the answer step by step in a regular manner using grading-friendly steps.

Three days and six major exams, in the blink of an eye it was the 9th, the last exam being biology.

When the bell settled and the invigilator said "Stop answering", the sun had already set.

The moment he walked out of the exam room, Jiang Lin heard noises suddenly released by youths who had been suppressed for a full three years, or even after a full three years, everywhere in the corridors, stairwells, and playgrounds.

Someone shouted a name loudly and uninhibitedly in the stairwell, someone hugged the shoulder of their brother and laughed wildly, someone with red eyes tore up the scratch paper in their hands and threw it into the air like snowflakes.

Jiang Lin walked and watched with great interest, following the crowd down the stairs unhurriedly.

The gate was getting closer and closer.

Outside the school gate, it had already jammed into a watertight ocean.

In previous years, when the last exam ended, television stations, local newspapers, and several educational public accounts would wait for a batch of candidates at the school gate, asking a few questions about whether the questions of this year were difficult, how they planned to spend their summer vacation, and what they wanted to say to younger schoolmates.

Sometimes, for the sake of on-screen effect, reporters would specifically wait for a mother wearing a red cheongsam, a father holding sunflowers, or a student rushing out of the exam room to passionately hug their teacher.

This could be considered a retained program that appeared every year during the Gaokao season, carrying a kind of stylized warmth.

But the battle array of today could not be explained completely by the two words convention.

On the sidewalks on both sides of the school gate, densely packed, people were crowded inside and outside three layers deep.

Not only the local Jiangcheng TV station, but the provincial station news broadcast truck parked on the roadside, and the interview vehicles of central media were also prominently listed.

Antennas were erected on the car roofs, and there were also a large number of interview vehicles marked with various strange station logos that teachers and students of Jiangcheng No. 7 High School had never seen in their lives.

They had all rushed over overnight from all corners of the country over the past few days.

Aside from traditional media, an even greater number were self-media bigVs, and short-video bloggers holding mobile phones, carrying stabilizers, and lugging huge fill lights.

Lacking formal camera setups, they squeezed into every gap in the crowd, raised their lenses above their heads, and aimed them toward the direction of the school gate.

"They are coming out, they are coming out!"

It was unknown who in the crowd was the first to raise their voice and shout.

Swish!

Countless camera lenses rose in unison, resembling a field of sunflowers instantly turning toward the sun.

Inside the school gate, the first batch of examinees had already rushed out like floodwaters rushing through opened gates.

Some students excitedly waved their admission tickets and screamed at the lenses.

Some parents shouted at the top of their lungs across the cordon, calling out the names of their own children.

Someone had just walked out of the retractable gate when a mother grabbed and hugged them tightly, the mother and child weeping bitterly together in tears of excitement.

All of this should have been the most common and touching scene of the final exam of the Gaokao.

But when the tall and thin figure of Jiang Lin appeared within the field of view on the inner side of the school gate, the originally noisy and bustling media zone unexpectedly fell silent for a full second at that exact moment.

"Jiang Lin has come out."

As this suppressed low cry rang out, the entire crowd of people was like a body of water into which a huge boulder had been thrown, and various large and small media outlets instantly became as restless as a boiling pot.

The crowd began to surge forward uncontrollably.

"Student Jiang Lin, Student Jiang Lin, over here!"

"The final exam of the Gaokao has just ended. Could you say a few brief words? It will not take up too much of your time."

Seeing that it would probably be difficult to get away today without saying something, Jiang Lin nodded. "It is hard on everyone to have waited for so long in such hot weather. Let us chat for a few moments then."

To be honest, having stayed in the Wasteland World alone for a long time, he rather liked the hustle and bustle of the mortal world.

Seeing that Jiang Lin had agreed to an interview, the media zone was like an oversized speaker whose play button had been pressed.

The red lights of the cameras flashed frantically, and mobile phones, voice recorders, and microphones bearing various station logos thrust forward recklessly.

But the cordon blocked the way firmly, and the human wall formed by the SWAT officers was impregnable, forcing all equipment to stop outside the restricted distance.

Covered in sweat, the staff members of the municipal education bureau immediately picked up loudspeakers and maintained order in a loud voice. "Everyone, please mind your safety. Ask one by one, do not affect the normal departure of other examinees, and maintain order."

The first to obtain the opportunity to ask a question was a veteran reporter from the provincial station.

"Student Jiang Lin, first of all, congratulations on successfully completing the Gaokao. Now that the final Biology exam has concluded, how do you feel about this Gaokao overall?"

This was a conventional and sufficiently safe question.

Jiang Lin pondered slightly and gave an equally standard answer. "Treating it like a normal exam, the questions have differentiation, and there are also some places that require careful reading of the prompt. Overall, it did not exceed the scope that high school teaching and examination syllabi can cover."

This response was obviously lacking in explosive highlights.

A reporter from a nearby online media outlet immediately seized the gap to ask loudly. "I heard that the math exam paper of this year is exceptionally difficult, and many examinees were crying after walking out of the exam, saying it is the hardest one in nearly twenty years. Student Jiang Lin, as a genius who solved a world-class problem, do you find the Gaokao math exam difficult?"

As soon as this question was tossed out, all the media personnel perked up, gossip gleaming in their eyes.

Over the past few days, Jiang Lin participating in the most difficult math Gaokao in history had already fermented online into a massive traffic label.

A top-tier brain, who had just been universally recognized as having solved a world-class problem that had plagued humanity for decades, went to take a set of high school math exam papers reputed to be of hellish difficulty.

This sense of contrast from a dimensionality reduction strike was far too easy to ignite public carnival and dissemination.

At this time, groups of examinees were still walking out of the school gate one after another.

Someone happened to pass by and heard the words that math was particularly difficult. Their face, which had originally relaxed due to finishing the exam, instantly collapsed, and their expression turned extremely complex. Some even stopped in their tracks, wanting to hear how this academic god would answer.

"I did everything I knew how to do." Jiang Lin pondered and said.

Unexpectedly, as soon as this sentence—which was actually a very sincere and honest truth—escaped his lips, the scene instantly erupted into a wave of good-natured and slightly helpless laughter.

Because for him, how could there be any questions he did not know how to do?

Immediately following that, the next question came from a specialized technology media outlet.

The bespectacled male reporter was obviously better prepared than his peers, and as soon as he spoke, he transcended the context of the Gaokao and cut straight to the true core.

"Student Jiang Lin, Professor Holt published a long article today. In the article, he stated that out of historical recording habits, we need to give Tile J, this marvelous topological construct, a stable and universally recognized name. He officially proposed calling Tile J in your paper the Jiang tile. On the academic forums on our side, it has already begun to be translated as Jiangs Brick. Have you seen this naming, and what are your thoughts on it?"

As soon as this question came out, all the chattering microphones at the scene unanimously raised an inch forward.

The clamor vanished instantly.

This was the truly valuable question of the day, and also the answer that the periphery of the academic circle most wanted to hear.

Jiang Lin reined in his previous casualness and turned serious.

"The proposal of the Jiang tile by Professor Holt is based on considerations of convenience for academic records and stability of nomenclature. This is a common convention in the mathematics community, but whether it ultimately becomes formal usage in textbooks is not something Professor Holt alone decides, nor is it something I alone decide; rather, it depends on subsequent mathematical literature, textbook compilation, and the usage frequency of the entire academic community in actual research."

This answer was extremely rigorous, even exuding the watertight nature of an old-school scholar.

It was so rigorous that a few reporters who had originally expected to see youthful arrogance were slightly taken aback in astonishment.

But the next words of Jiang Lin plunged the scene into an even deeper silence.

"If this name can truly stabilize in history in the end, I will feel very honored."

Looking at the dense array of camera lenses before him, the gaze of Jiang Lin seemed to pierce through them, looking toward a more distant place.

"But I will also feel that the pressure is immense."

"Why?" a reporter blurted out.

"Because a mathematical construct named after the surname of an individual is not only a crown of honor, but even more so means a lifelong responsibility. It means that in the coming decades or even centuries, every time a scholar or a student talks about this brick in class, they will subconsciously default to the idea that you need to be responsible for it."

"Responsible for ensuring that its proof process stands the test of history."

"Responsible for ensuring that its applicable boundaries are clearly defined."

"Responsible for ensuring that it has not been exaggerated by the media or myself."

This speech made all the self-media personnel present who had come in pursuit of traffic feel an inexplicable sense of shock.

Infected by the atmosphere, a young female reporter could not help asking in a relatively relaxed tone, "Then setting academics aside, do you personally like the Chinese translation Jiangs Brick? It sounds very down-to-earth."

The corners of the mouth of Jiang Lin curved upward, revealing a hearty smile. "It is quite good. I am just a brick, moving wherever I am needed. This name is very grounded."

A wave of brisk laughter erupted from the crowd.

"Student Jiang Lin, many netizens are now saying that you no longer need the Gaokao to prove yourself. Why did you still insist on finishing the Gaokao?"

This question voiced the inner thoughts of many people.

The gaze of Jiang Lin crossed over the crowd, looking toward a large camphor tree standing outside the cordon.

There, Jiang Jianguo and Zhang Xiufen were standing on tiptoe, looking at him with pride filling their eyes.

Beside them, his head teacher Old Liu was standing to the side wiping away sweat.

Jiang Lin withdrew his gaze and continued speaking into the microphone. "Because the Gaokao is the primary duty that I should complete at this stage of my age as a Chinese high school student. A paper is a paper; it is an exploration in academics. The Gaokao is the Gaokao; it is a summary of a period of youth. Just because the former has been confirmed in a certain field, one cannot treat the latter as wastepaper that can be casually discarded."

"Moreover, my teachers, classmates, and parents have accompanied me along this path for these past three years. Finishing the exam with a head and a tail is the most complete account to their efforts and also to my own time over these past three years."

After saying these words, Old Liu suddenly felt his eye sockets grow a bit warm.

He hurriedly lowered his head to glance at his phone, pretending that he was checking messages.

A brief silence also appeared among the group of reporters.

Then, a local education reporter took the initiative to break the silence and asked a question that many people cared about.

"Then Student Jiang Lin, how do you feel you performed this time? Is there any hope of capturing the top scorer position in Physics for Jiangcheng or even the entire province?"

This question had finally arrived after all.

Every year after the Gaokao ends, top-scorer predictions are definitely the perennial topic that the media loves to hype up most.

But this year, falling upon Jiang Lin, this question naturally carried an absurd sense of imbalance.

Asking someone who had just solved a mathematical problem that had plagued humanity for half a century and who was treated as an honored guest by the global academic community whether they had confidence in winning the provincial top scorer title?

This was just like asking an athlete who had already won an Olympic 100-meter gold medal whether they had confidence in winning a school sports meet race.

Yet precisely, this was at this very moment the most rustic question fitting the context of the Chinese Gaokao.

Nor did Jiang Lin feel offended.

He smiled slightly and said, "Before the scores are officially announced, I will not make any conclusive judgments."

As soon as these words came out, everyone present was collectively startled.

This set of rhetoric was far too familiar.

Last month, right at this school gate, when he was first blocked by the surging media, facing global skepticism regarding whether he had truly cracked the problem, he had said an extremely similar sentence.

"The paper is still in the peer-review stage. Before the review is completely finished, I will not make any conclusive statements."

Now, the top-tier review of the paper had been completed, and he had won the applause of the entire world.

Yet the Gaokao scores had not come out yet.

Unwilling to give up, a reporter smiled and pursued the question, "Then setting scores aside, are you satisfied with your test-taking performance?"

Jiang Lin nodded, his gaze focused. "I am responsible for the problem-solving process of every question I wrote down on the test paper. As for the final score and provincial ranking, we will wait for the official announcement."

This response was so much like him.

So much so that people familiar with the public opinion storms of those previous days could not help chuckling softly in their hearts.

Finally, a state media reporter wearing a work badge squeezed to the front and asked the final question of the day, which was also relatively the grandest and most professional one.

"Student Jiang Lin, this is perhaps the question that the global academic community cares about most right now. Next, after you enter university, will you continue to deeply cultivate the field of pure mathematics? Or will you turn toward applied Physics, computer science, or other directions? As far as we know, countless universities and research institutions at home and abroad are now closely watching your next choice."

This question was much bigger than the question about the provincial top scorer.

It was no longer confined to this examination hall, but pointed toward a tiny yet potentially butterfly-effect-triggering node in the future of human science.

The evening wind, carrying the lingering warmth of summer, blew over from the school gate of No. 7 High School.

In the wind, there was the scent of sweat from examinees running about, the rich fragrance of gardenias by the roadside, the asphalt heat emitted by the paved road after being baked all day long, and the screams and laughter of those boys and girls that could no longer be suppressed after the Gaokao completely ended.

Jiang Lin heard someone shouting hysterically on the playground not far behind: "Old Ban, we have graduated—!"

He also heard a bespectacled girl in the crowd on the left throw herself into the arms of her best friend, crying and laughing as she said: "Great, I will never have to do mock exam papers again in my life."

At this moment, the world appeared very noisy yet incomparably vivid, brimming with the vitality of the mortal world.

Jiang Lin took a deep breath, and facing that lens pointing toward the future, he said softly: "I still need a little time to think it through."

The state media reporter pursued with gleaming eyes: "Think what through? Is it choosing which school?"

Jiang Lin shook his head.

Raising his head to look at the sky dyed golden red by the setting sun, he gave his final answer as an eighteen-year-old youth: "Thinking clearly about what the next problem truly worth solving is for me."

The interview had ended.

The media lenses were still following.

The sunset glow, like a gorgeous oil painting, spread wantonly across the mottled school gate of Jiangcheng No. 7 High School.

The crowd in blue-and-white school uniforms gushed out from the school like a tide, and gradually dispersed at the end of the street, merging into every corner of this city.

This was the evening belonging to tens of millions of Grade 3 high school students across China—ordinary and real, yet shining brilliantly in the life of every single person.

At this moment, Jiang Lin walked briskly to that large camphor tree, took the bottle of mineral water handed over by his mother, tilted his head back to take a large gulp, and was then surrounded by his proud parents.

Talking and laughing among themselves, the group slowly walked out of the area with the densest concentration of camera lenses, heading toward their own bustling, steaming-hot lives.