I do not understand.

As usual, I’m asking for three things! Votes, recommendations, and favorites!!

In the afternoon, the second subject—mathematics—began right on schedule.

Mathematics had never been Yang Tang’s strong suit, not in his past life or his current one. After graduating from university in his previous life, he’d barely used math for over a decade, so his foundation now was hardly better than that of a freshman entering high school.

Therefore, armed with his “Eagle Eye” ability to see through multiple-choice answers, Yang Tang decided to be strategic in his approach to the test. After filling in his name and candidate number, he skipped straight to the fill-in-the-blank questions and then tackled the long-answer problems. He would only bother with the multiple-choice section if he had time after finishing the big questions.

Fortunately, out of the six long-answer questions, four were types he’d encountered before. With plenty of time, he worked through them carefully and managed to fully solve three, completing about eighty percent of the steps on the fourth. As for the other two—the third and sixth major problems—Yang Tang hadn’t come across them in any of his practice sets. He vaguely remembered the concepts being covered in class, but he’d been self-studying another subject that day and hadn’t even glanced at the blackboard. Resigned, he flipped back to the earlier sections and activated his “Eagle Eye.”

Suddenly, the test paper was awash with colors.

Eagle Eye couldn’t help him pick answers for the fill-in-the-blanks, but it could indicate whether his answers were correct. Yang Tang quickly noticed that about a third of his responses to the fill-in-the-blank questions gleamed gold, indicating correctness, while one answer shone white.

White? According to the system, useful terrain or items are marked in white—so his answer must be close to correct! Yang Tang quickly realized this, reread the question carefully, and managed to adjust his answer until it turned gold.

He decided to leave the other incorrect answers for the moment, using Eagle Eye to breeze through the multiple-choice questions first, and then returned to fix mistakes and fill in gaps.

Finally, with Eagle Eye’s help, he jotted down a few plausible steps on the two unsolvable long-answer questions, handed in his paper, and left.

Finishing the entire math test in an hour and a half was extremely fast for Yang Tang. Unfortunately, the exam room was filled with underperforming students, and most had already handed in their tests by the time he left; nearly seventy percent of the class was gone.

Leaving the school grounds, Yang Tang was surprised to see He Jianni’s car still parked across the street. He felt a flicker of gratitude.

“Hey, aren’t you tired of waiting for me?”

“What’s tiring about it? I just reclined the seat and took a nap in the car,” He Jianni replied nonchalantly.

“Really?” Yang Tang scrutinized her lovely face until he noticed the faint traces of sleepiness, and finally let it go.

His intense gaze made He Jianni uncomfortable. She pouted, “What are you staring at? Get in the car already!”

“Oh, right!”

Yang Tang circled to the other side, reaching for the door handle, when a gentle female voice called out, “Yang Tang!”

“Hm?” He turned and saw Bai Keqing approaching, as delicate and gentle as ever—impossible for anyone to dislike.

“Oh? Class Rep Bai, long time no see. What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you,” Bai Keqing said calmly. “Can we talk in my car?” She gestured toward a luxury Weijadi RV parked nearby.

The Weijadi was a high-end motorhome produced by Mercedes, a brand that hadn’t existed in Yang Tang’s previous life. Its top-tier models were as expensive as a Rolls-Royce Silver Spur back in the 1980s. As for the interior, ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of people in this world had never seen the like.

The car He Jianni drove—a Wendisha—was already considered a top-tier luxury vehicle, but beside the Weijadi, it looked almost modest.

But “Uncle” Yang Tang was well past the age of comparing status symbols. He believed in true friendship—the kind that stands by you in hard times, the kind who’ll lend you money when you’re down and out. So he simply pointed to the car beside him and replied, “If you need to talk, let’s do it in this car. Have yours follow us.” Without giving Bai Keqing a chance to respond, he got into the passenger seat.

Stunned by his indifference, Bai Keqing hesitated, stomped her foot, but ultimately climbed into the Wendisha.

No sooner had Bai Keqing settled in than He Jianni, still harboring a bit of resentment, started the car with a flourish, making a sharp turn that sent them roaring past the Weijadi.

Once they merged into traffic and the Wendisha steadied, Bai Keqing, clutching her seatbelt, let out a small sigh of relief. She sat upright, buckled in, and didn’t complain about He Jianni’s “wild” driving. She knew it was pointless to protest, so she got straight to the point. “Yang Tang, I have a friend working for the Peony Festival Committee in Shenhai. She really admires your poem about peonies and wants to pay a large sum to invite you to write two more poems in praise of the flower at the event.”

Yang Tang’s interest was piqued. “Shenhai’s a bit far. How much is this ‘large sum’ your friend mentioned?”

“Not less than thirty thousand credits,” Bai Keqing replied, quoting the average from previous years.

Yang Tang curled his lip in the front seat. “Only thirty thousand? You know I’m busy preparing for the college entrance exam.”

Bai Keqing could tell he was being perfunctory, but couldn't argue—after all, the exam was important to every student, high-achieving or not. Without a truly tempting offer, who would travel so far just to recite poems?

“So you think the price is too low?”

Yang Tang said nothing.

“All right, I’ll call and ask my friend.”

She pulled out her phone, dialed, and after a quiet conversation, turned back to Yang Tang. “My friend says: If your poems match the standard of your peony ode, you’ll be put up in a five-star hotel with all expenses covered. If your poems make it into the festival’s top five, you get fifty thousand per poem. Top ten, thirty thousand each. If not, you’ll get fifty thousand for both, regardless of ranking.”

“That seems fair,” Yang Tang nodded. “Tell me the time and place.”

Bai Keqing was taken aback. After a pause, she said, “Aren’t you concerned about the rights to your work?”

“Your friend pays, I sell the poems—it doesn’t matter whether my name is on them or not. It’s a fair deal!” Yang Tang thought to himself: These are all poems I memorized in my previous life; whether they bear my name is irrelevant.

Unexpectedly, after hearing this, Bai Keqing’s face flushed bright red, then she suddenly exploded, yelling, “You scoundrel!!”

The car screeched to a halt as He Jianni, who had been simmering with frustration, glared at Bai Keqing before fixing her gaze on Yang Tang, her expression one of bitter disappointment.

“What is it? Why are you both looking at me?”

“What do you think?” He Jianni fired back, “Writing poems for others to make money is one thing—we all need to eat—but why are you giving up the rights to your own work? Don’t you have any pride as a writer?”

Yang Tang almost spat out his lunch. You’re talking to me about pride? About virtue? If only you knew how I came to be here! He just waved his hand, forcing a smile. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand?” He Jianni was nearly beside herself with anger.

Bai Keqing joined in, “Yang Tang, aren’t you the one who doesn’t understand? Do you know how important authorship is to a writer? It’s like a writer’s second—”

“Second life, right?” Yang Tang cut her off, still unconcerned. “I told you, you don’t get it. This is apples and oranges. Forget it, I’ll take the bus home!” With that, he jumped out of the car, casually reciting, “Before the hall, peonies flaunt their charms; beside the pond, lotuses stand pure but cold. Only the peony is the true national beauty; when it blooms, all the city is stirred. Where do the withered blossoms hide? All are gathered in the peony hall. Tender buds wrapped in golden dust, layered petals form embroidered…”

As the two women listened to the lines, they were left speechless.

After a long pause, it was the more thick-skinned He Jianni who finally broke the silence. “Just now, I think he… he composed two peony poems on the spot?!”

“And the standard seems to be above average,” Bai Keqing stammered.

“Do you think he could write even more?” He Jianni asked.

Bai Keqing shook her head, then nodded. “It’s entirely possible. I think I finally understand Yang Tang’s reasoning. His refusal of authorship isn't about pride—it’s because…”

He Jianni finished the thought, “Because he considers it beneath him to put his name on poems that we consider treasures, but he sees as ordinary.”

Early the next morning, at the City Education Bureau—

A man in his early forties, his face thin and cheekbones pronounced, was writing calligraphy with keen interest in his office.

His secretary stood by, silencing the phone buzzing in his pocket. He waited until the director finished before saying, “Director Song, the car is ready.”

Director Song, the middle-aged man, washed his hands with a damp towel and asked, “So, Xiao Yan, which school are we visiting today?”

“Number Sixty-Two High School.”

“All right, let’s discuss it in the car.”

Once in the car and with several vehicles pulling out of the education bureau’s compound, Director Song suddenly asked, “Xiao Yan, Experimental High isn’t far from Sixty-Two, is it?”

“Yes, sir. The two schools are less than—”

“No need for straight-line distances. Tell the convoy to head for Experimental High first.”

Xiao Yan’s eyes widened in surprise, but since he was looking down, Director Song didn’t notice. “Understood. I’ll pass on the message.”

Twenty minutes later, a group of nervous school officials were waiting at the gates of Experimental High to receive Director Song and his entourage.

Inside, the academic director approached Director Song, eager to impress. “Director Song, for this citywide unified mock exam, our school has arranged two separate buildings for the tests…”

…