Chapter 9

The words “XX days to the college entrance exam,” with the number decreasing by the day, permanently occupied the lower right corner of the blackboard.

After the boycott, Class 5’s students had their backs to the wall—with all their bridges burnt, the only option they had was to fight. And so, they became busier than ever.

The questions in the new textbooks were much more sophisticated than those found in the review material compiled by the school, and nearly half of them was on content not covered by the curriculum. One could imagine the degree of difficulty the worst students in the school were facing. Luckily, in his last life, Lin Jingzhe attended all kinds of training courses to advance his education and was well-versed in the methods of rote learning. A teenager’s brain was more retentive than an adult’s—the results of this eleventh-hour studying were much better than he’d expected.

The school leadership’s attitude towards the whole thing was rather vague.

Though no one stopped Hu Yu from implementing her revised review plan, no one showed approval either. The other teachers weren’t willing to follow it since the scope of material was broader, and so their teaching became more and more perfunctory. Eventually, the lessons devolved into Class 5’s students’ collective self-teaching themselves. Their English class had been canceled, and Li Yurong’s name soon disappeared from the list of Class 5’s teachers.

It was as if Class 5, in the remote classroom at the end of the corridor, next to the toilets, vanished out of existence. It had been completely removed from all plans and activities concerning the college entrance examination.

Gao Sheng told Lin Jingzhe that he saw his mother secretly crying while she prepared for class at home.

Hu Yu felt this situation was humiliating, but actually, it was ideal for her “unruly children,” what with their highly individualistic, rebellious personalities. They were much more receptive to being taught by their peers than by teachers who were unwilling to cross the generation gap. These days, under Lin Jingzhe’s leadership, they brimmed with enthusiasm for learning. Though Lin Jingzhe often lost his temper and swore at them in class, they thought he was cool as hell, and conversely, it made them even more accepting of him.

When Lin Jingzhe finished the lecture and stepped down from the dais, his classmates, whom he’d reamed out for their laziness just minutes before, were still in awe of his anger’s grandeur—even Zhou Haitang, who hated studying, was diligently copying formulas. As soon as he sat down, Deng Mai, occupying the desk in front, turned around and leaned in to whisper excitedly, “Hey, did you hear? Someone beat up Jiang Run from Class 1, and he ended up in the hospital!”

Jiang Run didn’t come to school for several days.

In this tense pre-exam period it was rare for a student to miss one class, let alone so many days. In addition, Li Yurong, his class teacher, refused to reveal the reason for his absence. As such, the school swirled with rumors, each wilder than the last—he fell critically ill, something happened at home, or even he transferred to another school. Deng Mai’s actually struck truth.

Lin Jingzhe glanced at the exultation filling his swarthy face and began to unhurriedly tidy up his desk. “How do you know?”

“Don’t repeat this to anyone else, okay?” Deng Mai looked around and lowered his voice: “My dad is a deputy commissioner for the town’s public security bureau. I heard it from his own mouth!”

Lin Jingzhe was a bit surprised—he never knew this. Well, probably nobody knew, or the school wouldn’t have put Deng Mai in Class 5.

However, this explained why, in his last life, Deng Mai could own a near-monopoly on the bar business in Liyun Town and its neighborhood.

“It’s a secret, you can’t tell anyone about this,” Deng Mai stressed again. He looked at Lin Jingzhe meaningfully: “Big Bro, it was you!”

Lin Jingzhe ignored him. Deng Mai left his seat and approached him: “Don’t try to deceive me—I’m absolutely sure it must’ve been your doing!”

He stuck to Lin Jingzhe’s side, who responded with a scowl: “The fuck you’re talking about? You better tell me whether you’ve mastered the impulse-momentum theorem!”

“Tsk, don’t be like this, Bro.” Deng Mai immediately raised the white flag and retreated to a safe distance, his grin gone. “I really don’t like studying, don’t force me to do it. What I actually wanted to say is, I heard from my dad that Jiang Run joined a gang—PSB is ready to close the case. So, you think his gang will take it lying down? After school, I’ll get a few guys and walk you home.”

“Jiang Run joined a gang?” Lin Jingzhe didn’t remember anything like this, and he didn’t think he would’ve forgotten such a big thing. “What gang?”

“Azure Dragon Gang!” Deng Mai’s expression turned solemn. “They’re dangerous, especially their boss, Zhang Long. He has black hair, about this long, and a big tattoo of Azure Dragon, here.” Deng Mai raised a hand to his neck to demonstrate the hair length, then gestured to his right arm and chest. He lowered his voice and said with concern, “Big Bro, if you meet them, don’t try to act brave—run away as fast as you can and contact the police. These people can kill without batting an eye!”

“………………” Lin Jingzhe was silent for a while then nodded and said, “I understand, thank you.”

Jiang Run, rumored to have joined the town’s most powerful gang, laid in a hospital bed.

He hadn’t been able to sleep since being hospitalized—due to fear.

Not only was the pain tormenting him enough to wish he was dead, but every time he drifted off, the scene of Lin Jingzhe strangling Zhang Long appeared in his mind. He was too terrified to close his eyes.

His mother, Jiang Xiaoyun, couldn’t stop crying. However, she soon received a call from the provincial capital.

It was her sister, Jiang Qiaqia, who called. She’d been waiting for the news about the antiques, but there was no progress on Jiang Xiaoyun’s side. The bidding was about to begin. Qiqing Real Estate intended to participate, but as a newly established company lacking a backer, it was highly unlikely it would manage to win anything.

She needed to urge her siblings to act as soon as possible.

Jiang Xiaoyun’s state scared her. She asked a few careful questions—only then did she learn her nephew was in the hospital and the reason for it. She couldn’t help but snap, {Are you stupid? This is such a critical matter, and you took a child’s advice!}

Jiang Qiaoyun asked resentfully, “Don’t we have more important things to do right now than casting blame?”

This wasn’t the right time to aggravate her collaborators—Jiang Qiaqia needed her sister to take care of things. She heard Jiang Xiaoyun’s tone wasn’t right and immediately changed her approach. She said, her voice soothing, {I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. Actually, the idea was good, the problem was execution.}

“But what should we do now?”

Jiang Qiaqia pondered for a moment. {For now, give me Mr. Wang’s contact information. Land division will begin soon; first, we need to make sure he won’t cut us off.}

“You don’t know that man—he’ll only act after he gets the benefits. He won’t move a finger until the antiques are in his hands.”

Jiang Qiaqia’s mind was much sharper than her sister’s: {What are you afraid of? It’s not as if the antiques will run away.}

That evening, Mr. Wang’s plans for dinner changed.

The most luxurious banquet hall at the most upscale hotel in the provincial capital was nearly a hundred square meters. However, only three people sat inside. The large table was filled with all kinds of costly delicacies. There were also expensive cigarettes and vintage wine. Despite that, Mr. Wang, the only guest invited, seemed bored.

That his wife knew such an important person surprised Qi Qing. He sat close to Mr. Wang, and cautiously tried to engage him in conversation, but without success. The man took a perfunctory sip of wine in response to his toast, then turned his deceptively kind-looking face towards Jiang Qiaqia: “Manager Jiang, I’m a busy person. Let’s get to the point as soon as possible.”

Jiang Qiaqia was a good-looking woman. Her slender figure was clad in an elegant dress, her face charming, her eyes bright and full of intelligence, her demeanor graceful. She ignored Mr. Wang’s unfriendly manner and said, “Mr. Wang, there’s no need to be anxious. These antiques were promised to you, so naturally, they will be yours.”

“Will they?” Mr. Wang gave her a cold glance and snorted. “The situation seems to be different than what you said. Chairman Jiang of Zhixiao Real Estate told me the antiques have already been delivered to the appointed heir.”

Jiang Qiaqia just smiled. “So what?”

Mr. Wang frowned and waited for her next words.

Since the fish seemed hooked, Jiang Qiaqia expounded on her idea: “The will itself is completely legal and impossible to overturn, but whether the antiques were obtained legally in the first place is another matter, isn’t it?”

Mr. Wang’s eyes suddenly lit up. “You mean to…”

“We’ll need your help on the side of Municipal Cultural Relics Museum, but it’s all for the noble cause of recovering the important, long-lost cultural heritage!” They exchanged meaningful glances, and Jiang Qiaqia continued softly, “Mr. Wang, please be patient for just a little longer.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Mr. Wang, who sat through the whole dinner in a sullen mood, finally unbent. Bursting out into laughter, he looked at the seemingly weak, docile woman in front of him with appreciation. He stood up and lifted the glass of Maotai which barely touched his lips, saying, “Manager Jiang, you’re truly an exceptional woman. Let me pay my respects with this glass!”

Meanwhile, a silver plane pierced the night skies, approaching Qunnan Provincial Airport.

Before Elder Fang finished climbing down the boarding stairs with one of his colleagues’ aid, there were already several cars waiting on the tarmac. He waved the helpful person away, then sent the people waiting by the cars a helpless smile. “I said I didn’t want anyone to come, but you had to bring such a big group. You just refuse to listen.”

The tall, middle-aged man leading them replied, smiling, “This is already extremely low-key, Elder Fang—I only informed your other students. They were shocked when they heard you were coming to Qunnan.”

“Elder Fang, Mr. Zheng, it’s windy tonight. Please get in the car first instead of standing here,” interjected a slightly chubby man standing behind, opening the door. He held his hand over Elder Fang’s head so he wouldn’t hit the door frame while Mr. Zheng helped the old man inside. A long moment after the door closed, the motorcade left as quietly as it arrived.

There was sweat on the driver’s forehead; he didn’t dare to glance into the rearview mirror. He heard Mr. Zhang complaints from the back seat, “Elder Fang, you’re too self-willed. How could you leave Yan City just like that? Not to mention you brought only a few people with you—what if something happened along the way? Tell me, how would I explain myself to the National Museum?”

Elder Fang laughed. “This old bag of bones is not as useless as you imagine. Oh, and let’s make it clear—I’ll only stay in Qunnan City until tomorrow, then I’m going straight to Liyun Town.”

Mr. Zheng shook his head. “Even after so many years, your passion for antiques hasn’t dwindled.”

“That’s not the only reason.” Elder Fang’s expression became serious. “Cultural relics in Qunnan Province are vanishing too often. It’s reached such a level that we have to turn our attention to it.”

The other man was silent for a moment then sighed. “I’m aware, but this matter isn’t simple at all, there are powerful undercurrents. The province wants to fight, but until now, there’s been no suitable opportunity.”

Elder Fang turned his gaze to him, his aged face full of kindness and wisdom: “Isn’t this your opportunity?”

Mr. Zheng looked at him, taken aback, then his eyes widened. “You mean…”

The old man didn’t say anything else, just patted him on the shoulder and nodded with a smile.