My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Auditorium of the Provincial Experimental High School.

This is an old Soviet-style building with red brick walls, tall pillars, and a red five-pointed star hanging on top.

At this moment, a considerable number of people had already gathered in the square in front of the auditorium.

The entrance was packed with participating teams from all over the province, their teachers, parents, and reporters.

A complex emotion permeated the air.

Excitement, disappointment, anxiety, envy.

The teachers at the schools that won awards stood tall and proud, loudly calling out to their students to line up, as if their voices could be heard for miles around.

Meanwhile, in schools that failed the exams, the teams were disorganized, the students were dejected, and the teachers were hiding in corners smoking in silence, not wanting to see anyone they knew.

Just at this time.

The team from No. 1 Middle School of the city appeared.

The uniform dark blue school uniforms, the orderly steps, and the overwhelming joy that couldn't be suppressed.

Especially Old Zhao and Old Zhou, who were walking at the very front.

The way he walked with such a confident stride made you think some high-ranking leader was coming down for an inspection.

"Hey, isn't this Old Zhao?"

A hoarse voice suddenly rang out from the crowd, carrying a unique sense of mockery and provocation.

Old Zhao paused in his steps.

The smile on his face vanished completely in that instant.

He even switched to a bitter and resentful expression very naturally.

He turned his head to look.

Two people squeezed out from the crowd not far away.

The leader was a burly man with a fleshy face, wearing a tight gray suit with buttons that looked like they were about to pop open at any moment.

He held a half-smoked cigarette in his hand, spoke loudly, and had a half-smile on his face.

This is Lao Sun.

The dean of studies at the neighboring No. 3 Middle School is nicknamed "Sun the Cannon".

This is an old friend of Lao Zhao.

The two schools are not far apart and have similar student quality. Every year, whether it's the high school entrance exam or competitions, they always try to outdo each other.

In previous years, No. 3 Middle School always consistently outperformed No. 1 Middle School.

Last year in the math competition, No. 3 Middle School won a second prize in the province, while No. 1 Middle School won all third prizes. Old Sun showed off that certificate to Old Zhao for a whole year, and would make sarcastic remarks about it at every meeting.

Next to Lao Sun was a tall, thin old man.

He wore thick glasses, as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle, held a thermos in his hand, and held his chin high, almost looking down his nose at people.

Old Wu.

The head of the mathematics group at Yucai Middle School, a key junior high school in the province.

This person is a typical intellectual with an arrogant attitude. He doesn't even give a second glance to schools in prefecture-level cities, thinking they are just country bumpkins trying to join in the fun in the city.

The two of them got together.

Tsk tsk.

Even a fool would know it's nothing good.

"Hey, Old Sun!"

Old Zhao let out a long sigh, his brows furrowing instantly, looking as if he had just lost five million.

"What's wrong, Lao Zhao? Look at you... tsk tsk, didn't you sleep well last night?"

Old Sun walked over, his loud voice drawing everyone's attention.

He looked the team from the No. 1 Middle School up and down, his eyes filled with that habitual sense of superiority.

"How was it this year? I heard the questions were incredibly difficult this year, and many provincial key schools failed."

Our No. 3 Middle School didn't do well this time either; we only got two provincial second-place finishes and one provincial third-place finish. Sigh, we've regressed, we've regressed.

Old Sun threw his cigarette butt on the ground, crushed it with his foot, and put on a fake look of concern.

"If you don't do well on the test, don't get upset. It's normal, everyone's the same."

After all, the questions this time were too obscure. For a school like ours, it's already good enough that we were even able to participate.

It's all about participation!

Old Wu, standing next to him, pushed up his thick glasses and slowly interjected, his tone full of lecturing:

"Yes, Teacher Zhao."

The geometry question on the second math exam was indeed beyond the syllabus.

Although our students at Yucai Middle School have a good foundation, only a few top students were able to complete the task.

It's normal for schools like yours at the grassroots level not to be able to do this; don't feel guilty, there are differences in teaching resources after all.

That's an even harsher statement.

What is meant by a grassroots school? What does it mean that it's normal for students not to come out?

In previous years, Old Zhao would have been furious by now, either turning red in the face or simply turning away.

But today.

Old Zhao wasn't angry at all; instead, he sighed again.

That sigh was filled with a thousand turns of emotion, a heart full of sorrow.

"Sigh~"

Old Zhao shook his head and patted the briefcase in his hand.

"Don't even mention it, Lao Sun, Lao Wu, I'm really worried."

Old Sun was delighted when he heard this.

As expected, I failed the exam.

His sense of superiority was instantly greatly satisfied, and he even felt a little sorry for his old rival.

He reached out, wanting to pat Old Zhao on the shoulder to offer comfort.

"It's alright, Lao Zhao, victory and defeat are common occurrences in war."

If it doesn't work this year, there's always next year; if it doesn't work next year, there's always the year after... As long as you don't give up, there's always a solution! Haha!

Old Zhao subtly sidestepped, dodging Old Sun's hand that reeked of smoke.

He looked up, giving Lao Sun and Lao Wu an innocent look.

"It's not about failing the exam."

Old Zhao pursed his lips, giving me an expression that said, "You don't understand my suffering."

"It's about... the provincial team training camp."

"What?"

Old Sun's laughter stopped abruptly, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his neck.

What kind of training camp?

Old Wu, standing nearby, was also stunned, his hand holding the thermos cup frozen in mid-air.

Old Zhao unzipped his briefcase and pulled out two official documents with large red seals.

The movements were rough, making the two precious provincial team training notices rattle loudly.

"You be the judges."

Old Zhao pointed to the two pieces of paper, his tone filled with that Versailles-like anxiety:

"Professor Wang just insisted on shoving these two provincial team training notices into my hands."

"They say Chen Zhuo got perfect scores in two subjects this time, and he's ranked first in the whole province again."

Quiet.

The two fell silent instantly.

Old Sun's hand, which was about to take out a cigarette, froze in mid-air, his mouth agape.

Perfect score in two subjects?

First in the province?

Old Zhao didn't give them any time to react and continued his performance:

"Getting into the provincial team should be a good thing, but look at this schedule!"

Old Zhao pointed to the words on the document, his face full of heartache:

"The physics training camp will be held at the High School Affiliated to the Normal University for two weeks under closed management, and the math training camp will be held at the Provincial Experimental High School for another two weeks."

"I also need to go to Shanghai and Beijing to participate in the national competitions."

"He's only 10 years old!"

Old Zhao slapped his thigh, heartbroken.

"Only in the first year of junior high!"

"He doesn't even know how to wash his clothes at home (Chen Zhuo: I do), and he kicks off the covers when he sleeps at night (Chen Zhuo: I don't kick them off)."

"What if I go to the training camp and live with a group of junior high school students and get bullied?"

What should I do if I feel homesick and cry at night?

Is the food in the cafeteria high enough?

Can I swipe my card?

Old Zhao got more and more excited as he talked, and his eyes even turned red (he was trying not to laugh):

"Don't you think the provincial education commission is making a mess of things? Why is it making a 10-year-old elementary school student... no, a first-year junior high school student, compete against the province's top students?"

"It's one thing to win the PK, but they still insist on making him into the provincial team."

"As a teacher, I have to manage both academics and act as a babysitter. Do you think it's easy for me?"

Old Zhao turned to look at Old Sun and Old Wu, who were completely petrified.

"Old Sun, you're very experienced. What do you think? Could I apply to the provincial authorities to let him bring his nanny into the provincial team?"

"Or... should we give up this provincial team spot? After all, the child is still growing, and lack of sleep will stunt his growth."

The wind stopped.

Only the leaves on the roadside trees were still rustling awkwardly.

Old Sun looked at Chen Zhuo, who was standing calmly next to Old Zhao.

10 is old.

Perfect score in both subjects.

First in the province.

This is hardly a child prodigy.

This guy is a monster!

The thermos he cherished fell to the ground with a crash and shattered into pieces.

He was completely unaware that scalding hot tea had splashed all over his trouser leg.

"Both...both perfect scores?"

Old Wu's voice was trembling, and his thick glasses almost slipped off.

"How is this possible? That geometry problem... that rice cooker..."

As an expert, he understood the difficulty of this question better than Lao Sun.

That's a question for gods.

Someone actually got a perfect score? And in two subjects at that?

And it was in this grassroots school that he had always looked down upon?

Old Zhou then slowly walked up.

He put his hands behind his back, glanced at the broken teacup on the ground, and clicked his tongue twice.

"Hey, Lao Wu, how could you be so careless? This cup must be expensive!"

Old Zhou shook his head, looking at him with pity.

"But it's understandable, this news is indeed quite frightening. I was also shocked when I first received my score sheet."

"Why can't kids these days behave themselves?"

Getting first place is one thing, but getting a perfect score is another. The head of the grading team even made a copy of the paper as a model, insisting on discussing teaching methods with us.

"This puts so much pressure on us teachers! How are we supposed to teach in the future? Doesn't this just expose our true abilities?"

As he spoke, Old Zhou pulled a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes from his pocket.

This is a really good cigarette; he usually doesn't even want to smoke it himself.

He took one out and handed it to Old Sun, who was still in a daze.

"Come on, Lao Sun, have a smoke to calm your nerves."

"Your No. 3 Middle School got two provincial second prizes? Not bad, not bad, that's a very good result."

They're better than us. Aside from that first place finish in the province, we only ever get those pathetic rankings of 18th or 20th.

Old Sun mechanically took the cigarette, his fingers trembling.

He watched as Lao Zhao and Lao Zhou sang in unison.

Where was the worried expression on his face?

That's clearly someone who has the word "smug" written all over their face!

So annoying!

Too heartbreaking!

But he couldn't utter a single word.

First place with perfect scores in both subjects.

This achievement is enough to make the No. 1 Middle School of the city dominate among all the middle schools in the province for three years.

"Alright, alright, I'm not talking to you guys anymore."

Old Zhao figured the situation was about right; if he kept pretending, he'd get beaten up.

He re-clamped the briefcase that was no longer big enough and checked his watch.

"The awards ceremony is about to begin, and we still need to take Chen Zhuo backstage to wait. The grand prize is to be received on the stage, and we also need to rehearse our stage movements. It's very troublesome."

Old Zhao waved his hand, as if shooing away flies.

"We'll talk later, Lao Sun and Lao Wu. If you have the chance, come to our No. 1 High School to exchange experiences. Although we don't have much experience, we're just lucky, very lucky."

Done.

Old Zhao and Old Zhou turned around.

His back was ramrod straight, and his head was held high.

Leading the group from the No. 1 Middle School of the city, they swaggered into the auditorium.

Only Lao Sun and Lao Wu remained standing there.

Messy in the wind.