Chapter 51.3: The End of the Book

Some people had heard of the “Young Talents Program,” but in this day and age, with limited information channels and underdeveloped media networks, even the more educated teachers at the school had only vaguely heard of it. All they knew was that kids in the program were usually child prodigies.

Thankfully, there was ample time in between, and since Li Zhuiyuan had lost his vision for a period and was worried it might delay his enrollment, Tan Yunlong had prudently submitted his academic records early, hoping the school would make an exception.

The school pulled strings and connections to investigate, even dispatching two PE teachers to Beijing. These teachers, to their credit, actually found the place. When they presented Li Zhuiyuan’s name, they were nearly chased off by a group of distinguished professors—just for asking which high school he was transferring to.

It was a good thing they sent PE teachers—fit and fast on their feet. Otherwise, that trip might’ve ended in workplace injury claims.

Still, they came back with all the information, and the office erupted in chaos.

No one could quite explain why a student like that would randomly show up to attend a township high school. But it didn’t matter. To the school, this was practically a gift-wrapped future top scorer for the college entrance exam.

Had Tan Yunlong not insisted on keeping their address confidential and warned the school against bothering them, Principal Wu Xinhang would’ve led a team over herself.

The car pulled into the school and stopped in front of the administrative building.

A cluster of teachers immediately rushed out, eyes gleaming with anticipation and curiosity. They weren’t motivated by the same careerist ambitions as the leadership; they were just veteran gardeners eager to see what kind of golden root had sprouted in their field.

Among them were Panzi and Leizi.

These two had been hauled into the office for harsh reprimands after failing to do their summer homework. They expected a drawn-out scolding, but before the lecture could even get going, the teachers began shouting “He’s here! He’s here!” and the homeroom teacher dismissed them.

They were feeling pretty lucky and lingered to see who had come to their rescue.

Panzi muttered, “The principal’s driving. He even opened the back door.”

Leizi replied, “Some higher-up inspection?”

“Doesn’t seem right. Nobody told us to do a cleanup ahead of time.”

Then they saw Li Zhuiyuan step out of the car.

“This kid looks familiar.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen him somewhere.”

“Brother Panzi! Brother Leizi!” Li Zhuiyuan waved at them.

Instantly, all eyes—from teachers to administrators—turned to the two of them, including their homeroom teacher.

Panzi and Leizi, overwhelmed by the pressure, didn’t even dare to wave back. They just dropped their heads and ran straight to the classroom.

“Uh…” Li Zhuiyuan looked confused.

He had started school young and wasn’t familiar with traditional school dynamics. He’d thought Panzi and Leizi were there specifically to welcome him.

“You know them?” Principal Wu asked kindly.

“They’re my cousins.”

“Good, good.”

Principal Wu took note, planning to later ask their homeroom teacher about their grades. After all, if they were blood relatives, they might have some shared potential. Surely a whole family couldn’t be riding on just one brain.

Li Zhuiyuan was led into… the small conference room.

Originally, he was supposed to go to the principal’s office, but it was too small to accommodate everyone.

Along the way, the surrounding teachers began chattering.

“So young?”

“Exactly! That’s what makes him a prodigy.”

“But is it real or fake?”

“No clue. Anyway, we’ll know after the test.”

“Whose class is he going into?”

That question caused a ripple of tension among the senior Grade 12 homeroom teachers, their eyes sharpening as they glanced at each other.

Especially the older ones—ready for retirement, utterly fearless. They’d slap the principal’s desk if it came to it.

The younger teachers were more laid-back. They knew this wasn’t their fight.

Among them was a teacher named Sun Qing, who taught Chinese in a regular class. Tan Wenbin was one of her students.

“Xiaoyuan, let me introduce you. This is Director Liu from the Education Bureau, this is…”

Principal Wu Xinhang led Li Zhuiyuan around for introductions.

Li Zhuiyuan wasn’t shy. He greeted everyone warmly.

He’d always been valued in the Young Talents Program. First, because he was well-rounded—not topping every subject, but never lagging behind either. Second, because he was… normal. Social, easy to talk to, just like any regular kid.

After the greetings came the main event.

“Xiaoyuan, here are some papers our teachers prepared. Would you like to try a few?”

The phrasing was polite and gentle, but everyone held their breath.

No matter how much fanfare, this was the moment of truth. The papers were freshly composed by subject groups, ensuring no leaks. The results would be genuine.

Li Zhuiyuan sat down and picked up a pen.

The school leadership and bureau officials had planned to watch a bit, then step out for a smoke. After all, even doing selected papers would take time.

But soon, their expressions froze.

He started with math. He barely paused to think—his eyes skimmed a question and his hand wrote the answer. Sometimes his hand was still finishing one problem while his gaze had already moved to the next.

Nobody had ever seen someone held back by how fast they could physically write during a math test.

This, too, was intentional.

Li Zhuiyuan knew he had to perform exceptionally. That way, his school life would be easier and freer, and academic demands wouldn’t interfere with corpse retrieval.

After math, he moved on to physics.

“Quick! Start grading!” Principal Wu urged.

The math teachers began marking, red checkmarks appearing in rapid succession.

Everyone hoped to see a single “X,” but none came.

The teachers, who knew their own paper’s difficulty far exceeded standard exams, felt a growing chill. Their test was designed to mentally crush seniors, not to be handed out for fun.

The math group leader turned to the officials. “Perfect score.”

There were, technically, some issues—two problems solved with non-standard methods—but such flaws weren’t worth mentioning now. Just a quiet reminder later would do.

The leaders sighed in collective relief. They finally felt reassured.

Teachers were left in stunned silence. Even from just one math test, they understood what this meant.

A young teacher joked, “If I get to teach him, will I ever enjoy teaching regular students again?”

Laughter followed, along with a jab: “As if he even needs teaching.”

Li Zhuiyuan swiftly finished physics and chemistry, then moved on to the other subjects.

Nobody interrupted him. If he wanted to finish them all, they were more than happy to see every result.

Even for the Chinese test, he wrote a formulaic essay that was elegant and structured.

His only skip was the English listening section—not by choice. The English teachers, watching his speed, suggested skipping it to avoid wasting everyone’s time on the audio.

When he finished, he set down his pen and rubbed his wrist. Wu Xinhang, standing beside him, reached over and massaged his hand.

The questions hadn’t taxed his brain—just his hand. Compared to reading feng shui auras, this was light work.

The grading was quick. Even the Chinese essay had no flaws. And his handwriting? Beautiful.

Many teachers removed their glasses to wipe them, thoroughly shaken by this firsthand experience of a true prodigy.

Tan Yunlong was the calmest in the room. He’d never doubted the boy’s test scores—Li Zhuiyuan had already astounded him multiple times on homicide cases.

Principal Wu bent down, beaming. “Come, Xiaoyuan. Let me introduce you to some of our top Grade 12 homeroom teachers.”

This kind of student clearly needed an experienced teacher.

Though, Principal Wu wasn’t sure what experience even meant for someone like this.

Li Zhuiyuan turned to Tan Yunlong. “Uncle Tan, which class is Binbin in?”

Tan Yunlong nearly laughed, but held it in.

His gaze landed on Sun Qing—his son’s homeroom teacher, a familiar face.

Most parents saw the homeroom teacher once a year. Thanks to his son’s antics, Tan visited monthly. He sometimes even had to alternate with his wife to avoid rumors.

“Xiaoyuan, about the class placement…”

Before Principal Wu could finish, Li Zhuiyuan got up and walked straight to Sun Qing.

“Hello, Teacher. I’ll be in your care from now on.”

He bowed.

“What’s your name, Teacher?”

Tan Yunlong answered, “Sun Qing. Miss Sun.”

She shot him a grateful look.

“Miss Sun, let’s go back to class.”

He took her hand. To him, it was simple—he’d earned this privilege fair and square. Might as well use it.

The other senior teachers were still in shock. Wu Xinhang was the first to react, laughing. “Miss Sun, Xiaoyuan is the school’s treasure now. Take good care of him.”

“Rest assured, Principal. I will.”

Sun Qing led him out, feeling the pressure and not daring to linger.

Just as they stepped outside, a fierce argument broke out in the conference room.

Tan Yunlong followed them out. “Xiaoyuan, I’ll pick you up after school for dinner at our place.”

“No need, Uncle. I’ll eat at home.”

“Alright then.” Tan Yunlong patted him on the shoulder and walked off toward the school gate.

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