005 Aftereffects of Rebirth?

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Old Wang understood perfectly well what the students below were laughing about. He glanced at the chalk writing Yang Tang had left on the blackboard, kept his composure, and, as the bell signaling the end of class sounded, continued to explain some difficult points.

When the last period of the double session arrived and all key topics had been covered, Old Wang distributed several sets of papers for the class to work on.

Upon receiving the papers, Yang Tang kept flipping through his English textbook, and not until the bell rang again did he leisurely leave the classroom, hands in his pockets, heading out of the small teaching building.

The last two periods of the morning belonged to their homeroom teacher, Panda Lili, and her English class. Yang Tang planned to listen carefully, so a pit stop beforehand was necessary.

In the back row, the seat of the girl class monitor.

Lv Qin was imitating the style of Yang Tang’s chalk calligraphy, and, casually, she copied down the four lines of that poem: “With neither bright-winged phoenixes to soar, nor mutual hearts that understand without words.”

“Hey, Qin Qin, going to the bathroom? What are you still writing?” Her round-faced deskmate called out, curiosity bringing her over.

Lv Qin quickly stuffed the draft paper into her desk, unaware that the round-faced girl had already glimpsed its contents. “Xiao Jing, don’t you usually take your bathroom break between the double periods?” she said, standing up and grabbing her friend’s hand, pulling her toward the door.

Round-faced An Jing endured Lv Qin’s series of self-directed actions in silence, a fleeting trace of mockery in her eyes, though on the surface she kept up a cheerful conversation as they circled the girls’ restroom.

But after leaving the restroom, An Jing found an excuse to part ways. After all, she and Lv Qin weren’t close enough to be inseparable best friends.

Watching Lv Qin disappear around the corner of the small teaching building, An Jing headed for the usual gathering spot of the key liberal arts class two.

In this world, China was ten to twenty years more advanced technologically than in her previous life. It wasn’t that An Jing didn’t want to use her phone to send a message—rather, all third-year students who brought phones or internet devices to school had them confiscated by the academic office, with parents signing a guarantee that they’d only be returned after college entrance exams. The entire third-year grade prepared for exams in the small teaching buildings, where network signals were blocked, so passing messages between different classes had become nearly impossible.

At the edge of the sports field, beneath the parallel bars.

Several boys lounged there, some squatting, some standing, smoking.

An Jing didn’t approach, just waved from under a tree at the tallest boy among them.

The boys noticed at once and jeered at the tall boy: “Hey, your old flame’s here!”

The tall boy had a reasonably regular face, though his eyes were somewhat narrow. Smiling, he stubbed his cigarette out on the iron bar and said to the others, “She must have something to say to me—don’t mess around!” With that, he walked over to An Jing. “What’s up?”

An Jing hesitated, then said, “Didn’t you want to know about Lv Qin?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What’s up with her now?”

Suddenly, An Jing glared. “Don’t you care about me at all?”

“Care about you? Aren’t you fine right here?” The tall boy was a little exasperated. “Besides, your period just started these days. Didn’t you get the medicine I had someone send you?”

“You’re impossible! They’re all watching over here!” An Jing pinched him. “The latest news—your Lv Qin’s been copying someone else’s poem and imitating someone else’s handwriting.” Her tone was slightly sour.

“Whose poem? Whose handwriting?”

“A guy in our class called Yang Tang.”

The tall boy squinted, trying to recall. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

An Jing helped jog his memory. “His grades are terrible now… Ever since we ended up in the same class after the first year split, the most memorable thing about him was when he got surrounded by a few junior high kids on the basketball court and called some repeaters from grade four to bail him out.”

“That rings a bell—Yang Tang… All right, you go on back!” As he said this, he pinched An Jing’s chubby cheek.

Meanwhile—

Back in the classroom, Lv Qin saw Yang Tang at his seat. She hesitated, then walked over. “Third Senior Brother, your chalk calligraphy is really good. How come I’ve never seen it before?”

Yang Tang stared at her lovely face for several seconds before remembering she was the class monitor and feigned ignorance. “Monitor Lv, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

Lv Qin grew annoyed. “Still pretending… I mean the chalk writing you did on the blackboard for the couplet. It had a special charm. You’re really not going to admit it?”

But she had underestimated Yang Tang’s thick skin. He pointed at the blackboard. “Monitor Lv, take a good look—where do you see any writing?”

Lv Qin was left speechless and returned to her seat with a huff.

Her deskmate gave Yang Tang a thumbs-up. “Third Senior Brother, you’re something else—daring to go against even the class monitor…”

Yang Tang curled his lips but didn’t respond.

When the English double period began, Yang Tang once again experienced Panda Lili’s psychological torment of underachievers.

If a teacher still mocks or calls your parents because of your poor performance in your final year, at least it means they care. But Panda Lili was different. The English quizzes of Yang Tang and several other bottom students were returned unmarked, just handed back as they were. In class, she never called on them to answer questions, completely and utterly ignoring this handful of troublemakers as if they were just extra blocks of stone in the classroom.

This persistent attitude made it clear to the underachievers: I, your homeroom teacher Panda Lili, have given up on you. The cruelty of this didn’t fully hit Yang Tang until he graduated from university and entered society.

Fortunately, Yang Tang’s work experience before marriage in his previous life had given him a decent foundation in English, and his thick skin, honed by society, let him ask questions in class without shame—so much so that Panda Lili was nearly driven to exasperation by his barrage of queries.

So, when the double period ended and Panda Lili announced the end of class, she added, “Yang Tang, come to my office.”

******

Trailing after her to Cen Li’s office, as soon as he entered, her face fell. “Yang Tang, what’s going on with you today?”

Yang Tang played dumb. “Teacher Cen, what do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“In class today, your constant questions disrupted my teaching flow, you understand?”

“Huh? Wasn’t today a Q&A session? Afterwards, we just did the papers—did you teach anything new?”

Cen Li wanted to roll her eyes but held back. “Even so, you… never mind. If you have questions, I can answer them, but not during the double periods in the day!”

“Then when can I ask?”

“During evening study. I’m here every night, though not always in your class. If you’re not embarrassed, you can come find me in another class—the building’s not that big anyway!”

Though Cen Li’s words were laced with irritation, the fact that she said this showed she wasn’t a terrible teacher.

“All right, thank you, Teacher Cen. I’ll just…” Yang Tang gestured toward the door.

Cen Li waved him away impatiently, signaling he was free to go.

******

In the blink of an eye, it was afternoon—more Q&A and papers.

This was all that was left of the final sprint in senior year.

Soon, it was half past six in the evening, and dusk was settling in. After class, Yang Tang headed to New Street as usual, planning to buy some things at the small supermarket and have a bowl of noodles before returning to school. But just as he arrived at the store, he saw a woman clutching a man in a jacket by the sleeve. “Thief, thief! Give me back my wallet!”

Many people watched the commotion but no one helped.

Yang Tang thought for a moment, then, hiding behind the crowd, shouted, “Police!”

The man in the jacket was already nervous from being grabbed, and when he heard “police,” he panicked, tossed out a wallet, and, as the woman loosened her grip, slipped into the crowd.

The woman didn’t give chase, but hurriedly searched for her wallet, almost in tears.

Yang Tang, having done his part, didn’t reveal himself, just followed the crowd into the small supermarket. Suddenly, the strange clarity hit him again, and he froze.

[You have gained ten merit points!]

[You have gained one hundred ninety-six point five merit points!]

[You have gained one hundred one point seven sin points!]

“How can there be so many? Even sin points?”

Yang Tang muttered to himself, and the insight came again.

[The woman whose wallet was stolen didn’t fall and break her kneecap, so she won’t later commit suicide due to uneven legs. She will have a son, whose lifetime merit will be one million nine hundred sixty-five thousand seven hundred twenty-three, and his lifetime sin will be… ]

[Secondary merit (sin) yields only one ten-thousandth!]

[Tertiary merit (sin) is negligible!]

[The minimum unit of merit (sin) is 0.1; anything smaller is omitted!]

Good grief!

A person can have a million merit or sin points—can that be real?

Yang Tang grumbled inwardly but didn’t go back to ingratiate himself with the woman. After all, by the time her son became a great person with immense merit (or sin), who knew what kind of old man he’d be. Why bother?

What intrigued him now was this inexplicable insight—he wanted to figure it out, and also what use the accumulated merit and sin points had.

“Right, how much merit and sin do I have now?”

As soon as he asked, the answer came.

[You currently have two hundred seven merit points!]

[You currently have one hundred one point seven sin points!]

“What are these merit and sin points for?”

[Once you enter the dream, the uses of merit (sin) will reveal themselves!]

Delighted with the answer, Yang Tang couldn’t help but mutter, “Entering a dream, huh? That’s not exactly hard or easy—how do I do it?”

The insight arose again.

[With desire in your heart, holding Ksitigarbha in your hands, when the time comes, you will naturally enter the dream!]

“Desire in my heart, holding Ksitigarbha? Where would I get a Ksitigarbha? Oh right, I have a Ksitigarbha mark over my heart!”

Though he said this, Yang Tang wasn’t sure if the Ksitigarbha mark would work, nor did he really believe “with desire in your heart, holding Ksitigarbha, you’ll enter the dream.” Still, dreaming was nothing difficult—he’d try it when he got back.

“The only thing to worry about is, if this dream thing doesn’t happen, there might be something wrong with this insight in my head—maybe it’s a psychological aftereffect of being reborn!” Yang Tang mulled this over as he walked back to school, and before he knew it, he’d reached the darkest, most deserted stretch of road.

Just then, two figures suddenly sprang from the roadside, blocking Yang Tang’s way, one in front and one behind.

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