I was a top student in America.

Around 2 p.m., the Greyhound bus pulled over at the Champaign stop.

Li Ao got off the bus carrying a slightly worn sports bag, glanced at the road signs, and then looked down to check the printed route map.

UIUC's campus is larger than expected, with wide streets, scattered buildings, and large lawns stretching as far as the eye can see. Occasionally, students ride by on bicycles, their baskets stuffed with textbooks and drink cups.

This place is a completely different world from the South Side of Chicago.

Following the map, Li Ao found a building with a temporary sign that read "Mathematical Olympiad Summer Camp Registration" in black and white.

There were already about ten people lined up at the entrance.

Some parents were dragging suitcases, some students were carrying folders of documents, and some were even leaning against the wall, using scratch paper as a pad on their folders, frantically solving problems with their heads down.

Li Ao found it amusing; it seemed that even though they had only just arrived at the registration point, they were already exuding the aura of "test-taking experts."

After queuing for a short while, it was Li Ao's turn to step forward.

"Hello, I'm Leo Lee, reporting for duty," he greeted politely.

"Hello, my name is Rachel Miller." The woman behind the desk looked up. "I'm in charge of student affairs for this year's MOSP class."

"Hello, Professor Miller," Li Ao said, changing his address accordingly.

The project instructors at MOSP are different from high school teachers; their work is much more varied.

From summer camp courses and lecture notices to exam schedules, dormitory arrangements, and student safety, he basically has to manage everything, making him half a team leader and half a dormitory manager.

At this moment, a girl next to Mr. Miller handed him a sign-in sheet and a pen:

"Student, please find your name and sign it on the back."

"Okay." Li Ao took the pen and looked down to search.

Before he could find it, Mr. Miller suddenly stopped flipping through the list, his tone tinged with surprise: "Wait, you said your name is Leo Lee?"

Li Ao nodded: "Yes, that's me."

It's normal that the other party recognized me since they had checked the camp entry list beforehand.

After all, there are only so many people in the highest level of the MOSP black belt group, and it is indeed eye-catching that he came from an ordinary public high school in the South Side of Chicago and was the only one selected in the state.

Mr. Miller looked him up and down, his expression softening.

"Your resume is quite special: Wyndham High School, perfect score on USAMO, the only representative from Illinois this year, and you're also a key player on the school's basketball team."

She paused, then changed the subject, "I hope you can adapt to the pace of the black belt group as soon as possible."

Li Ao noticed the curiosity and scrutiny in the other person's eyes.

Although I found the other person's reaction a bit strange, I still replied politely:

"Thank you, Professor Miller. I will."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the girl next to her, who was helping with the registration, became agitated, nearly dropping her pen cap on the table.

"You're Leo?"

"Senior, you've heard of me too?" Li Ao asked, somewhat puzzled.

A perfect score on the USAMO is indeed highly prestigious, but it's not considered a particularly remarkable achievement in the black belt category.

Those who can get into this place are basically the top figures in their respective states.

Of course, it's not surprising that the project teachers remember me, but how come even the students here know me?

The girl smiled and explained, "You're quite a celebrity among this year's students."

Li Ao was puzzled. He had only played two more games, so why was he being surrounded by onlookers as soon as he arrived?

Seeing that there were still people queuing behind him, he didn't ask any more questions and simply signed the sign-in sheet.

A hand with beautiful English letters stands out awkwardly among a bunch of high school students' crooked scribbles.

"Your handwriting is quite beautiful."

Mr. Miller glanced at it and handed over a thick brown paper bag. "Inside are your class schedule, meal card, map, and emergency contact card. Later, take the school bus to your dorm and pick up your key and bedding from the dorm manager. The camp orientation is at 7 PM tonight, and the first placement test is tomorrow morning, so don't be late."

"Okay, thank you, Professor Miller." Li Ao picked up his bag and left the hall.

Once on the school bus, he opened the file folder and flipped through the "Letter to Students" and the campus map inside.

Not long after, the car stopped in the dormitory area.

Li Ao went to the dormitory manager to get the dormitory door key, access card, and a water cup and notebook with the MOSP logo.

I went upstairs to room 314, pushed the door open, and saw a white male wearing glasses sitting on the bed by the window on the west side.

With a buzz cut, wheat-colored skin, and his shirt buttoned tightly to the top, he appeared exceptionally reserved.

Hearing the noise, the boy looked up, his lips moved as if he wanted to greet someone, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Seeing that the other person was introverted, Li Ao threw his gym bag onto the empty bed on the east side and took the initiative to speak:

"Hello, Li Ao, I'm sleeping across from you."

"Ethan Walker," the boy immediately replied, smiling shyly, "I'm from Arkansas."

Li Ao chatted with him while packing his luggage, and they quickly became acquainted.

Ethan's hometown is a small town in Arkansas with only a few hundred people. There isn't even a decent bookstore, and the school doesn't have a full-time coach.

He was able to get into USAMO entirely by buying old problems online and studying them diligently, and by browsing forums.

These conditions are even harsher than those in Chicago's South Side.

Once they got to know each other, Ethan became quite talkative.

As Li Ao sat down at the table and took out his phone to text his family and coach to let them know he was safe, his voice came from behind him again: "Leo, what score did you get?"

"A little over seven hundred," Li Ao replied casually.

"Then we're about the same, I'm also around 700."

Ethan visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

As they were talking, the dormitory door was pushed open again.

A tall Asian man carrying a dark backpack walked in, leaned his suitcase against the wall, and waved with a smile.

"Another one has joined our dorm. My name is Kevin Chen. I just ran into last year's coach downstairs and we chatted for a bit."

He added familiarly, "I came here once last year, also as a black belt, this is my second time here."

"This is my first time here, Leo."

Li Ao stood up and shook hands with him, only then realizing that Ethan had been so eager to check his scores that he had probably already talked to Kevin, fearing that he was the only newbie in the entire dormitory.

It's no wonder that newcomers inevitably feel psychological pressure when facing seasoned black belts who have "repeatedly completed" the course.

A while later, the last roommate pushed open the door and entered the room.

This guy's name is Tyler Brooks. He has broad shoulders, long arms, and a muscular build; he looks like an athlete.

Taylor, an extrovert, had barely thrown down her bag when she began to pour out her grievances:

"My original goal was to join the U.S. junior track and field team, but I missed the cut by 0.07 seconds! My parents immediately told me that since I had already passed the math competition, I shouldn't be idle during the summer vacation, but should go to a math camp."

"Sigh, God knows how I'm going to survive the next four weeks. I've heard that even normal people who get into the black belt group have to go through a lot!"

"The pressure in the black belt group is insane," Kevin chimed in. "I experienced it last year. And I heard that this summer camp not only has last year's IMO gold medalist, but also several formidable players who scored a perfect 740."

Li Ao had already finished all the past IMO exam questions, so he wasn't particularly moved by what he heard.

Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, listening silently to everyone's chatter, not daring to interrupt.

Just then, Taylor's gaze suddenly fell on Li Ao, and he stared at him for a couple of seconds:

"Wait, you look familiar, like I've seen you somewhere before... Aren't you that 'Wyndham sharpshooter' from the South Side of Chicago?" He raised his voice: "The basketball star who got a perfect score of 740 all the way through the AMC and even made the game-winning shot in the Greater Chicago Championship?!"

"I heard that besides basketball training and part-time jobs, they also have to study for fifteen or sixteen hours a day?"

Li Aoxin was surprised. He never expected that he would become so famous that even people from other states knew about him.

He was wondering what was going on when he didn't notice that Ethan and Kevin, who were sitting next to him, had both fallen silent and were staring at him blankly.

……