The Sixth Dream Before the College Entrance Exam

As usual, the triple plea! Please vote, recommend, and bookmark!!

“Sign—let’s sign the contract!” Qin Yiqing hurriedly stopped Yang Tang. Her bright eyes flickered as an idea struck her. “But we need to add an extra clause to the contract.”

“What clause?” Yang Tang asked.

“Under equal conditions, Qin Chuan Group shall have the right of first refusal to purchase your poetry.”

“A right of first refusal, huh?” Yang Tang rubbed his chin, pretending to hesitate.

Qin Yiqing was inwardly exasperated by Yang Tang’s indecision, and she couldn’t help but up the ante. “Fine, I’ll raise the contract amount to 3.2 million!”

Yang Tang, who had only been considering whether to let Qin Yiqing have the advantage of the right of first refusal, brightened at the mention of more money. “Make it three and a half, then.”

Qin Yiqing almost choked with anger. “You want to charge me half a million just for a right of first refusal?”

Yang Tang sneered, “You’re entirely free not to buy it. Put aside the right of first refusal, and it’s still the original price. Either sign the contract, or I’ll walk away!”

“I’ll buy it—three and a half it is!” Qin Yiqing forced the words through gritted teeth.

After that, things were simple: the contract was amended, the clause was added, four identical copies were produced, both parties signed, and the law firm kept a copy each.

Because of this “right of first refusal” for future cooperation, Qin Yiqing had to swallow her irritation and politely see Yang Tang off to the parking lot.

Yang Tang rolled up his copy of the contract, stuffed it in his back pocket, opened the car door, and sat down in the Weijia van. “Boss Qin, you already have the poems I sold you. When will you transfer the money?”

Qin Yiqing glanced at the contract now crumpled beneath Yang Tang, her face expressionless. “Don’t worry, as stipulated in the contract, within forty-eight hours, your designated account will receive three and a half million.”

“Good!” No sooner had Yang Tang finished speaking than he closed the car door.

Qin Yiqing was left standing in the wind, somewhat at a loss, but she faintly heard Yang Tang reciting inside the car: “I recall in those days, Gongjin in his prime, Xiao Qiao newly wed, heroic and spirited, feather fan and silk kerchief, with laughter and talk, enemy ships vanished in smoke...”

“Hey!”

Hearing these lines, even truncated, Qin Yiqing’s eyes lit up. She wanted to stop Bai Keqing’s car, but before she could, the Weijia started without even preheating and sped out of the parking lot.

Once the van turned onto the avenue and the ride grew steady, Bai Keqing couldn’t help asking, “Tangtang, ‘with laughter and talk, enemy ships vanished in smoke’—what poem is that from?”

“I just wrote a new one,” Yang Tang replied, his skin now thicker than Iron Man’s armor. “Want me to finish the poem and give it to you?”

Though Bai Keqing longed to hear the entire poem, she didn’t immediately accept. Instead, she asked in surprise, “Give it to me? Why?”

“If you hadn’t registered that ‘Qinchuan Wine and Tulip’ poem for me ahead of time, how could I have made three and a half million today? So, at least half of that money should really be yours.” Yang Tang explained, “But then I thought, giving money is too vulgar, and seeing as you and Boss Qin seem to have something between you, I figured I’d give you a poem instead!”

Bai Keqing’s eyes lit up at his words. It wasn’t the money she cared about, but Yang Tang’s poetic talent, which she genuinely admired. Still, as a girl, her thoughts turned the other way, and instead of showing delight, she put on a cold face. “Yang Tang, do you think I helped you just for money or your poems?”

Yang Tang was taken aback. At this moment, if he dared to answer with, “If not money or poems, what then?” their hard-won friendship would probably be over. Fortunately, he had once been a husband and father in his past life, and after a quick thought, he realized Bai Keqing had misunderstood. He put on a thoughtful air and sighed, “Ke Bai, you still don’t understand me. Classmates are easy to find, but a kindred spirit is rare.”

Bai Keqing’s heart trembled at his words. She sensed she might have misjudged Yang Tang, but no matter how she searched her heart, she couldn’t see where she’d gone wrong.

“Stop the car!” Yang Tang suddenly called.

“Don’t stop!” Bai Keqing’s heart jolted again, and she instinctively contradicted him. Her intuition told her that if she let Yang Tang leave now, the two of them might drift further and further apart. “Yang Tang, tell me—how is it I don’t understand you?”

“Confucius said: Is it not a joy to have friends come from afar?” Yang Tang said softly. “Farmers feast on lamb and ox for pleasure, and as for me, I compose poetry and share it with friends—what’s wrong with that?”

After this explanation, Bai Keqing, who was well-grounded in classical literature, was deeply moved. She realized that Yang Tang wanted to share the joy of his successful contract by gifting her a poem, and that her own suspicions had been completely unfounded.

“Tangtang, I’m sorry…”

Having successfully hoodwinked Bai Keqing, Yang Tang did not return to school that afternoon for classes. Instead, he went back to Wu University, visited the library, and dug up materials to reinforce his weakest subject among the five for the college entrance exam—French.

A few days later, on the weekend before the exam, the city’s final unified mock test began. As usual, the first day featured Second Foreign Language and Math, the second day Chinese and History, and the third day English. This time, Yang Tang found the questions far easier than a month prior. He was also much more low-key when answering the Chinese exam.

Yang Tang realized that even if he wrote famous lines like “Worry before the world worries, rejoice after the world rejoices,” during mock exams, without media coverage and with the exams marked anonymously, his work might resonate with older teachers but would not significantly affect his score. No matter how brilliant the essay, the highest possible mark was still just full points.

Because of this, Yang Tang just wrote an essay worth a little more than full marks and left it at that. As for the other subjects, especially math, he felt he’d improved noticeably and could score fifteen or twenty points higher than last time.

Sure enough, a week later, the results came out: Yang Tang scored 125 in Chinese, 116 in math, 115 in history, 125 in English, and 117 in French. His total was 598, just shy of the 600 mark, ranking thirty-third in his grade—lost among the sixty or so students in the top thirty of the four key classes.

In truth, Cen Li and the other subject teachers in his class were all quietly astounded by Yang Tang’s back-to-back leaps in performance. These teachers, each with at least three graduating classes under their belts, couldn’t predict whether Yang Tang would score just above 600 or just above 500 in the real exam. But regardless, they now believed that a student who was once thought hopeless would at least make it into a top university. As a result, even the strictest teacher, Panda Li, no longer bothered Yang Tang about his frequent late arrivals, early departures, or days off.

Fortunately, Yang Tang did not let himself slack off. Even at home, he kept to his habit of not going to bed until eleven. With his super memory, his study efficiency was at least triple that of his peers—in other words, two and a half hours of review at home was equivalent to an all-nighter for others.

That night, Yang Tang finished his review half an hour ahead of schedule, leaving him time to think about other matters. He touched the lotus-shaped tiger knuckle he always wore on his left hand and happened to notice the “Item Attribute Transfer” ring on a neighboring finger.

“That’s right, the Sixth Dream supposedly allows attribute transfer. But I already plan to learn combat skills—how does that work?”

A clear revelation arose: Starting from the Sixth Dream, the dreamer may copy two skills, or one skill and one item attribute.

“So, can I give up copying skills and just copy two item attributes?”

Dream level insufficient: copying two item attributes at once is not permitted!

“So, later on, when my dream level is high enough, I’ll be able to copy multiple item attributes?”

There was no response.

After a while, Yang Tang remembered another crucial question: “Right, when does the Sixth Dream start?”

The Sixth Dream begins on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month—Dragon Boat Festival!

Dragon Boat Festival?

Yang Tang checked the calendar. Sure enough, June sixth—the day before the college entrance exam. He was instantly floored.

In the blink of an eye, it was early June. The college entrance exam was near. Yang Tang felt his review in every subject was satisfactory and, after passing through the dream, he’d be ready to face the exam in full force.

“Whew, thank goodness the Sixth Dream is on June sixth and not the seventh, or I’d be going crazy.”

The Dragon Boat Festival fell on June sixth, meaning the dream would begin as soon as midnight passed on June fifth. This way, Yang Tang could finish the dream before dawn on June sixth, leaving him the entire day and night to recover, regardless of what might happen in the dream, and focus on the exam on the seventh.

On the fifth, Yang Tang spent the whole day at home, skimming through each subject’s main points. What he didn’t finish during the day, he continued after dinner, finally showering and going to bed at eleven.

Before long, Yang Tang found himself in a golden haze.

Verifying the date...

Date matches. The Sixth Dream officially begins!

Because your dream level exceeds five, upon entering the scene, you may copy one additional skill beyond the base five.

Because your dream level exceeds five, upon entering the scene, you may activate the single item attribute transfer function, which will count as one skill copy—optional.

Because the Fifth Dream was a major dream, you may choose the scene.

According to your wishes, you have three scene options—