My IQ has been increasing year by year.

The autumn heat wave in 2001 was fierce.

Although the calendar clearly shows that autumn has arrived some time ago, the small southern town in mid-September is still trapped in a giant steamer.

4:30 PM.

The steamer was blazing hot, it was unbearably hot.

Unfortunately, Class 1, Grade 7 of the No. 1 Middle School in the city faces directly to the west.

In architecture, this is called west-facing.

In thermodynamics, this is called continuous thermal radiation input.

However, among the more than fifty students in Class 1 of Grade 7, this was considered extremely immoral.

Even worse, the two heavy curtains in the classroom, which were originally meant to block out the inconsiderate sunlight, tragically perished during the commotion caused by a few boys last Friday.

Several hooks have flown off somewhere, and the slide rail has gone askew.

Now the two pieces of cloth dangle like two dead fish on either side of the window, leaving a more than two-meter-wide deserted area in the middle.

The intense sunlight streamed in, passing through the glass and illuminating the green wall around it. It then reflected off the blackboard, finally transforming the central spot in the first row into a gleaming microwave oven.

Chen Zhuo happened to be sitting right in the middle of the microwave oven.

His custom-made, black, soft-leather, adjustable chair has now become the perfect heat absorber.

Chen Zhuo felt like he was on a teppanyaki grill right now.

Chen Zhuo held a pen in his hand, studying a thick, brick-like book called "Demidovich's Workbook of Problems in Mathematical Analysis" on his desk.

He is currently struggling with a limit proof problem about multivariable functions.

Sweat trickled down his newly trimmed sideburns, across the gold-rimmed glasses, and finally dripped lightly onto the draft paper, spreading into a blue ink dot.

"Oh dear, look how hot your little brother is."

A gasp filled with maternal warmth rang out from behind him.

Immediately afterwards, a pack of cool, wet wipes was slapped onto the corner of his table.

A fair hand reached out and slightly propped up the book in front of him, which was shining in the sun, creating a small, pitiful shadow.

"Quick, wipe it off, you're covered in sweat."

The speaker is Li Xiaoya, the class's arts and culture representative.

This girl is twelve years old this year. She has developed early and has already grown to 1.6 meters tall. She has thick bangs and is at the age where hormones are surging. She would want to take any stray cat she sees home and raise it.

In her eyes, nine-year-old Chen Zhuo clearly needed more care than a stray cat.

Thanks.

Chen Zhuo didn't stand on ceremony and took out a wet wipe to wipe his forehead and neck.

The cool sensation of mint instantly penetrated his brain, making his mind, which had become somewhat sluggish due to the high temperature, a little more awake.

"And this too."

The girl sitting next to me on the right is the one who tugged at Lao Zhao's sleeve during his class, trying to remind him.

A quiet girl with metal braces and a slight lisp pulled out a bottle of AD calcium milk with a straw inserted from her desk as if by magic and held it to her lips.

"Your lips look a bit pale. Is your low blood sugar acting up again? Quickly drink some iced water."

Chen Zhuo obediently opened his mouth and took the straw in his mouth.

The AD calcium milk flowed down Chen Zhuo's esophagus and into his stomach, where it was quickly converted into precious glucose, then transported into the bloodstream, and finally delivered to his rapidly functioning brain.

This is Chen Zhuo's niche in Class 1 of the first year of junior high school.

The class's only legal pet.

Or to be more precise, he was the "shared younger brother" of all the girls in the class.

This is a very peculiar social psychological phenomenon.

If Chen Zhuo were an ordinary nine-year-old child, he might be ostracized; if he were a twelve-year-old academic prodigy, he might be envied.

But he is now a nine-year-old, fair-skinned, bespectacled, and a super prodigy who is specially arranged by the school to sit in a soft chair and whose height only reaches everyone's chest.

This perfectly broke through the psychological defenses of these twelve- or thirteen-year-old teenage girls.

They didn't see him as a competitor, nor as someone of the opposite sex.

They regarded Chen Zhuo as some kind of rare creature that needed careful protection, with an extremely high IQ but unable to take care of itself.

They feed him, wipe his sweat, get him water, and even swat away flies while he's thinking.

Chen Zhuo readily accepted this offer.

There's nothing shameful about it.

According to the first law of thermodynamics, energy is conserved.

His brain is a terrifying energy black hole.

An average person's brain consumes 20% of their body's energy, but for Chen Zhuo, who is in a state of high-intensity thinking, this percentage soars to an extremely high level.

Three meals a day simply cannot sustain this kind of consumption. These scattered milk candies, biscuits, and milk are the key fuels that keep this computer running on a daily basis.

Of course, Chen Zhuo would try his best to explain any learning problems they had to them until they fully understood them.

"Chen Zhuo, are you still hot?"

A girl in the front row turned around, holding a large plastic fan with a picture of "Princess Pearl" printed on it, and fanned it vigorously at Chen Zhuo, almost blowing Chen Zhuo's glasses off.

"How about we switch seats? It's a little better here, not as sunny."

"Need not."

Chen Zhuo refused.

Changing seats doesn't solve the fundamental problem.

The entire classroom was like a steamer; the air was still, and although the four old-fashioned ceiling fans overhead were spinning rapidly, they were blowing only hot air.

The air was filled with the smells of sweat, chalk dust, and a strange odor from the scorching plastic book covers.

I can't take it anymore.

At least Chen Zhuo couldn't stand it anymore.

Chen Zhuo drank the last sip of milk and placed the AD calcium milk on the corner of the table.

There was already a bag of Oreos, two White Rabbit candies, and a bag of Little Chef's Delight snacks.

He looked at the blackboard.

The words on the blackboard were so brightly lit by the sunlight that they were completely illegible; all that remained was a pristine white expanse.

He looked at the draft paper in his hand.

The white paper reflected a blinding light, making his eyes sting.

Chen Zhuo silently calculated in his mind.

If the environment is not changed, it will take him thirty minutes to solve the problem, and he will be at risk of headache, dehydration, and vision loss.

Although changing the environment requires some physical effort, it can reduce the problem-solving time to ten minutes and provide a significant sense of enjoyment.

Based on the principle of least action, the path selection is obvious.

Chen Zhuo pushed up his glasses, closed the thick workbook, and stood up.

When Chen Zhuo stood up, the girls around him who were showing concern for him were all taken aback.

"What's wrong, little brother? Do you need to go to the toilet?" Li Xiaoya asked with concern.

"no."

Chen Zhuo shook his head.

"It's too bright."

After saying that, he left the front row where he was the center of attention and walked towards the back of the classroom.

Behind.

At this very moment, a group of "bad boys" in the back row are attempting a desperate attempt to save themselves.

"Tape! Where's the tape?! Give it to me now!"

"Hey, don't stick it there! It's crooked! This newspaper is so brittle, it tears so easily!"

"Liu Fei, you son of a bitch, you're stepping on my table!"

Several boys were standing on a makeshift scaffold made of desks, holding old newspapers and transparent tape, trying to cover up the windows that were letting in light.

The leader was Liu Fei.

This kid is quite tall, about 1.7 meters, with dark skin, and he's the ringleader of the troublemakers in the class.

He was shirtless, his school uniform rolled up to his armpits, sweating profusely as he shoved a copy of "Sports Weekly" against the glass.

However, their skills were somewhat appalling.

The newspapers were pasted crookedly, with three layers in some places and gaps in others. When the warm wind blew outside, the newspapers rustled and made a mess, like a dilapidated shack.

Sunlight still seeped in through those gaps, forming even more dazzling beams of light that shattered the classroom into pieces.

"This lousy school doesn't even fix the broken curtains, are they trying to kill me with the sun?"

Liu Fei had just pasted a newspaper on when, because the tape wasn't sticky enough, the newspaper fluttered down and landed right on his sweaty face.

The group of boys below burst into laughter.

"What's so funny! If you're so capable, come and post it here!"

In a fit of rage, Liu Fei tore off the newspaper, crumpled it into a ball, and slammed it to the ground.

Just then, someone tugged at his pants.

Liu Fei was furious when he looked down.

Chen Zhuo was standing under the chair, looking up at him.

Backlit, Chen Zhuo's glasses shone brightly, obscuring his eyes.

"Brother Zhuo?"

Liu Fei was stunned for a moment.

Although Chen Zhuo doesn't usually hang out with these mischievous kids, after all, one of them does calculus and the other reads martial arts novels, they seem to be from completely different species.

But at the No. 1 High School in the city, academic performance is the highest form of currency.

The number one's deterrent effect is more effective than that of the head of the teaching department.

Moreover, the boys privately all thought Chen Zhuo was pretty cool.

Last time in math class, Teacher Zhao allowed Chen Zhuo to read a book for fun, which was quite a story among the boys, and they were extremely envious.

So even though Chen Zhuo was young, the boys still decided to respectfully call him Brother Zhuo.

"What's up, Brother Zhuo? You're here to help too?"

Liu Fei wiped the sweat from his chin and spoke in a slightly more polite tone.

"Your posters are so ugly."

Chen Zhuo calmly gave his evaluation.

Unadorned, it strikes straight to the soul.

"And it's useless, it lets light through."

"Look over there, it's leaking like a sieve."

Chen Zhuo pointed to the window next to him.

Liu Fei blushed and said stiffly, "What can we do? We don't have any other paper, and the transparent tape won't stick. We'll just have to make do. It's better than dying from the sun."

"Tear it all up."

Chen Zhuo said.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the noisy classroom.

"what?"

Liu Fei thought he had misheard, so he bent down and leaned closer.

"What did you say, Brother Zhuo?"

"Tear up all these messy newspapers."

Chen Zhuo pointed to the windows that were covered with patches like those of a beggar.

"So seal all the windows shut. Cover them with two layers so that not a single ray of light can get in."

He paused, looked up, and gazed at Liu Fei through his glasses, a slight smile curving his lips.

"Let's go big."