A perfect score on the college entrance exam? The Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng has astonis

"It's...it's that 'oh—' tone!"

Chen Mo blinked innocently.

"I didn't say anything."

Su Wanci glared at him, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel whose nuts had been stolen.

She glared at him for three seconds, then laughed. As she laughed, she wanted to hit him again, but before she could bring her hand down, Chen Mo grabbed her wrist.

"Alright," Chen Mo released his hand, his voice softening, "Fill it out."

Su Wanci lowered her head, hummed in agreement, and typed four words in the university section: Peking University.

She typed very slowly, word by word, as if she were signing a very important contract.

Chen Mo also typed the same two words on his computer.

The two people pressed the submit button at the same time, and a "Submission successful" prompt popped up on the screen. It was quiet, without any fireworks or applause, just a line of black text, white background, black text, clean and tidy.

Su Wanci looked at the words and suddenly felt her eyes getting hot.

It wasn't because she was sad, but because—she remembered a year ago, when Chen Mo was still scoring over 400 points on a test, she secretly thought to herself: "If only he could get into the same university as me."

At that time, she felt it was a dream, an impossible dream.

But today, that dream has come true.

It wasn't her pulling him; it was him pulling her, leading her to a place she had never imagined she could go.

"Chen Mo."

"Um."

"Thank you."

Chen Mo glanced at her but didn't say anything.

He simply reached out and tapped twice on her computer screen—closing the pop-up. "No need to thank me, let's go, I'll treat you to milk tea."

Su Wanci smiled, her eyes curving into two crescent moons.

She stood up and followed behind him, the two of them walking out of the internet cafe one after the other.

The sun was shining brightly, and the breeze was gentle. Su Wanci held a cup of taro bubble tea, while Chen Mo held a cup of unsweetened iced Americano. The two walked on the sidewalk, their shadows stretched long and thin.

"Chen Mo, look at your phone!"

Su Wanci suddenly called out and stopped walking.

Chen Mo took out his phone and opened Weibo.

The top trending topic is once again that familiar name—Liu Zhiyuan.

He released a new video, with the cover image featuring large red letters that read:

Why doesn't Chen Mo dare to respond? Because he's fake!

In the video, Liu Zhiyuan's voice was more excited than before, and he spoke faster, as if he were fighting a final battle.

"Everyone, several days have passed, and Chen Mo has not responded at all!"

"This is not normal!"

"If he truly has a clear conscience, why doesn't he speak out? Why is he afraid to face the criticism? Because he has a guilty conscience!"

"He must have a huge team behind him, all aimed at creating a genius persona, manipulating public opinion, and reaping traffic! This is an elaborate scam!"

Chen Mo looked at Liu Zhiyuan's face on the screen, which was flushed with excitement, and his lips twitched slightly.

He handed the phone back to Su Wanci and took a sip of his iced Americano.

"What are you planning to do?"

Su Wanci asked, her tone tinged with worry.

Chen Mo tightened the lid on his coffee cup.

He took his phone out of his pocket and opened TikTok.

His account already had 20 million followers, and his last video still featured the same phrase, "Anyone can do this."

He opened the posting page and pointed the camera at his face.

The sunlight came from the side, cutting his face in two distinct shades.

Su Wanci stood next to him, watching him raise his phone, and paused for a moment. "Are you going to record a video?"

"Um."

"What are you trying to say?"

Chen Mo glanced at her, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

"You'll see when you see it."

He pressed the record button.

His face appeared on the screen, with sycamore trees lining the road and blurry building outlines in the distance in the background.

He looked at the camera with a calm expression and a lazy smile in his eyes, like someone who had just finished a nap.

Hello everyone, I'm Chen Mo.

He paused.

"Recently, there's this mediocre guy named Liu Zhiyuan who keeps questioning me online, saying that my perfect score on the college entrance exam is fake, that my 'Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River' was ghostwritten, and that I have a huge team behind me."

"Teacher Liu, you've worked so hard. You've posted over a dozen videos, written tens of thousands of words of text, and researched countless resources—you were even more diligent than I was preparing for my college entrance exam. I'm truly touched. So I'd like to offer you a piece of advice."

He paused again.

"You're absolutely right. I do have a team. My team consists of three people: my left hand, my right hand, and my brain. My left hand holds the paper, my right hand writes, and my brain memorizes the article. The three of us work together seamlessly. As for the capital packaging? Yes. The capital behind me is my mother. She makes me breakfast every day. The return on investment is zero, but she enjoys it immensely."

His expression was as serious as if he were giving an annual summary report.

"Teacher Liu, is there anything else you'd like to ask? If so, please continue posting videos. I'll continue not responding. You earn your traffic, I'll drink my coffee. Win-win."

He pressed the stop button. The video was less than thirty seconds long.

Su Wanci stood to the side, watching the entire recording, her mouth agape, speechless. "You...you just respond like that?"

He pressed the stop button. The video was less than thirty seconds long.

Su Wanci stood to the side, watching the entire recording, her mouth agape, speechless. "You...you just respond like that?"

"Hmm." Chen Mo put his phone in his pocket. "What's wrong?"

"You're being too..."

"Too much?"

Su Wanci opened her mouth, thinking of many words—too casual, too improper, too infuriating—but in the end she only said one sentence: "Too annoying."

Chen Mo smiled. "Let's go, the coffee's getting cold."

He strode forward, and Su Wanci paused for two seconds before jogging to catch up.

She walked to his right, head down, unable to suppress the smile on her lips.

Her phone vibrated; it was a notification from TikTok.

"The anchor you follow, Chen Mo, has released a new video."

She clicked on it and saw that the number of views had already exceeded one million within thirty seconds.

The first comment in the comments section is...

"Hahahaha, 'My mom is my backer'—that's hilarious!"

The second message reads: "Liu Zhiyuan: I prepared this copy for half a month, and this is what you show me?"

The third one is: "You earn your traffic, I drink my coffee"—I'll remember this sentence for the rest of my life.

The fourth question is: "Why do I think he's arrogant before, but now I find him cute?"

Su Wanci couldn't help but laugh as she looked at the comments.

She looked up at Chen Mo walking ahead of her—a white T-shirt, dark blue jeans, canvas shoes, hands in his pockets, walking at a moderate pace, like an ordinary high school graduate who had just filled out his college application and was waiting to have coffee.

But he is not an ordinary person.

He was the first person in the country to get a perfect score on the college entrance examination, and he was the author of "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng" and "Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River".

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