I was a top student in America.

When Li Ao arrived at the classroom, it was just past seven o'clock. The corridor was empty, and the classroom door was ajar.

He pushed open the door, went in, and sat down. He first took out his vocabulary book from his bag and went through the pages he hadn't finished memorizing yesterday before class.

The SAT requires a very high vocabulary, and what you learn in class is far from enough. You have to memorize words little by little from a vocabulary book.

After memorizing for about twenty minutes, the fatigue from studying math for several hours came over me.

Li Ao yawned, closed his vocabulary book, crossed his arms, and instantly fell asleep on the table.

He woke up on his own in just over ten minutes.

My mind was unusually clear, and the previous drowsiness was completely gone.

He sat up straight and blinked in surprise.

Does taking a nap while lying on a table count as deep sleep?

If that's the case, I can catch up on sleep during breaks between classes and maintain my energy throughout the day. That's much more effective than drinking lots of strong coffee in my previous life.

At this point, people began to gradually enter the classroom.

After entering the room, DeMarcus slammed his backpack on the table with a "thud," and even the way he pulled out his chair exuded annoyance. He then plopped down in his seat.

Li Ao looked up and saw a bruise under his left eye socket. It wasn't very big, but it was quite dark in color, as if he had hit something hard.

"What happened to your eyes?" he asked casually.

"Huh?" DeMarcus subconsciously touched his cheekbone, grinned dryly, "I wasn't careful when I went out last night and bumped into the door frame."

"You know how dilapidated the stairwell is near my house. The lights have been broken for ages and no one has fixed them."

As he spoke, he glanced at the vocabulary notebook and draft paper on Li Ao's desk and immediately smiled:

"Wow, how long have you been studying here? You're not living at school anymore, are you?" He picked up a sheet of paper covered in vocabulary words. "Okay, Leo, want me to test you on a few words?"

"You should worry about your high school diploma first."

"Alright, never mind." DeMarcus waved his hand with a smile, buried his head in his arms, and started to catch up on sleep.

Li Ao glanced at him, then looked away and continued memorizing vocabulary.

Before I knew it, the day had passed.

The last period was Brown's math class.

After the bell rang, the students walked out noisily.

As Brown stuffed the lesson plans into the folder, he looked up and called out, "Leo, stay here for a moment."

Once the classroom was empty, Brown leaned against the edge of the podium and asked, "Have the materials the school ordered for you arrived?"

"They've all arrived. There are five books in total, enough for a while."

"Where are you looking?"

"I've finished half of the 'Contest Problem Book,' and I'm currently working on number theory and combinatorics."

Brown nodded, paused for two seconds, and then said:

"By the way, I have an old classmate who coaches the math competition team at Lincoln Park High School in the north. Every year around this time, he organizes a workshop, bringing together students from several surrounding schools who want to take the AMC to practice together, once a week, until the exams start next February."

"If you're interested, I can have him add a chair, but it's a bit far; you'll have to take the 'Red Line' (Chicago subway) to get there."

Li Ao nodded: "No problem, thank you Mr. Brown."

Brown grunted in agreement, picked up the folder, and walked out.

As we were about to leave, he turned to me again and instructed, "Don't just focus on doing practice problems. You need to derive the proofs of the fundamental theorems yourself. If you only memorize the conclusions, you'll easily get stuck in the exam."

……

After school, Li Ao went to the gymnasium for training as usual.

The season has already started, and the basketball team's first game is the day after tomorrow. Coach Durant was training extra hard today.

During a break, Li Ao slumped on a bench, gulping down water, when he caught a glimpse of Daryl creeping towards him.

Daryl walked over to him, unsure of what to do with his hands, and finally put them in his shorts pockets.

His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Li Ao pretended not to see it and continued drinking water.

After struggling for a long time, Daryl still couldn't utter a single word.

Two veteran teammates nearby couldn't stand it anymore and teased, "Daryl, what are you trying to say? You're holding it in like you're about to confess your feelings."

Another chimed in, "If you can't bring yourself to say it, why don't you just write and send a love letter?"

Daryl's dark face flushed red, and he stammered out half a sentence: "My...about the materials..."

"I've looked at it." Li Ao screwed on the water bottle. "There's a problem with the SAT score report."

The veteran teammate next to him, with his sharp ears, immediately turned his head: "Didn't Daryl score over 1400? Isn't that enough?"

"It's not about the grades," Li Ao said, looking at Daryl. "You printed your report card yourself from the internet, right?"

Daryl paused for a moment, then nodded.

The NCAA Qualifying Center does not recognize privately printed transcripts.

"The transcripts they require must be sent directly by the testing center. Without this step, your file status will remain stuck at 'incomplete materials,' and everything you submit afterward will be wasted."

"what?"

Daryl, a tall man of 1.8 meters, stood there dumbfounded.

Before he could even process this devastating news, the veteran team members next to him couldn't sit still any longer.

The two exchanged a glance, and one of them visibly panicked: "Wait a minute, Leo, can't I just type out my own SAT score report? I typed it out directly and put it in the envelope!"

The other one panicked too: "Damn it, we have to pay them to ship it?"

Someone else leaned over from the other end of the bench: "What official delivery? How much does it cost? How do you get it done?"

The sidelines erupted in a flurry of voices, with several people standing up.

Wyndham doesn't even have a college counselor; these people are just blindly filling in the forms on their own, making the exact same mistakes.

Li Ao ignored them and first told Daryl, "Call the testing center and get your scores sent out as soon as possible. Go back and apply for official score reporting on the College Board website. Select the NCAA Eligibility Center; it'll cost around ten dollars per score. Don't worry about the money; missing the deadline will be a huge loss."

Daryl then snapped out of his daze and mumbled a "Thanks."

Li Ao thought for a moment, then brought it up again:

"I've read your personal statement, and it has quite a few flaws, but that's not urgent. Let's get the points sorted out first."

Daryl nodded, and as soon as he stepped back, he was pushed away by several other people.

"Leo, could you take a look at mine too? I'm not sure if what I submitted is correct."

"I submitted mine even earlier than Daryl's, and I still haven't heard back. Is it stuck too?"

"Brother, do me a favor, and I'll treat you to dinner."

Li Ao put down the kettle and stood up.

"Okay, you can watch both. But I'll have to pay."

No one thought there was anything wrong with what he said.

The value of what I just said is undeniable. Spending a little money to have someone check the materials and buy some insurance is better than wasting your future.

Someone asked how much it cost on the spot, but Li Ao said he would talk about it later and that they should focus on training first.

The whistle blew, and everyone dispersed, returning to their respective fields.

……

After training ended and I left the gymnasium, it was already getting dark.

Li Ao wrapped his coat tightly around himself and walked home against the wind. When he reached the intersection of 63rd Street, he saw a figure in the distance hurrying across the road.

DeMarcus.

It's not the way home.

Li Ao paused for a moment, then simply left behind, half a block away.

After walking less than two blocks, DeMarcus slipped into a narrow alley.

He stopped in front of the back door of a fried chicken shop, carefully looked around, then pulled open the door and slipped inside.

"Snapped!"

The iron gate closed.

Li Ao stopped at the alley entrance and did not go in.

In Chicago's South Side, everyone knows what walking through the back door of a fast food restaurant late at night means.

He stared at the rusty iron gate for a few seconds, then, not wanting to cause trouble, turned and left without hesitation.

……