Chapter 2

He was deeply ingrained in the spirit of scientific expeditions.

"Mom and Dad, I'm fine now. I'll go to school tomorrow. I'll go inside and read for a while first."

"Go ahead, come out for dinner later."

Xie Qingyan nodded, said no more, and walked straight into the original owner's room.

The room was small, with only a bed, a table, and a chair.

Several books and a stack of crumpled test papers were piled haphazardly on the desk. He strode over and casually flipped through the stack of test papers.

However, the sight that came into view made him frown instantly.

The three exam papers were covered with various glaring red X's.

Physics 28 points, Chemistry 35 points, Biology 42 points.

According to the original owner's memories, the full score for these subjects was 100 points, and the scores on the test papers were truly worrying.

He casually flipped through a few more books; they were brand new, and apart from the printed text, the blank pages were almost completely clean, without any annotations or notes, as if their owner had never actually read them. He then looked through other books, and the situation was much the same.

Xie Qingyan put down the gleamingly clean math book and walked to the window. Night had fallen, and the distant city lights resembled an unfamiliar galaxy. After a day of processing, the original owner's vast and complex memories were no longer just a jumbled mess; key pieces of information began to emerge and connect.

The National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao).

This word carries a suffocating weight in my memory. It's the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of every senior high school student, the ultimate battlefield where teachers constantly nag, and the only chance for parents to change their fate. The original owner felt deeply powerless about it, so the related parts of her memory are vague and resistant.

But Xie Qingyan was different. He grasped the core of this information—one exam determines one's fate, and the best candidate should be chosen.

How similar this is to the imperial examination system he was familiar with!

A chilling realization struck him instantly. Ten years of diligent study, fierce competition in the imperial examinations, and finally, passing the imperial examinations with flying colors… those ancient rules upon which he relied for his livelihood existed in a more systematic way in this completely unfamiliar world!

My mother's words echoed in my ears again that evening: "The first mock exam is at the end of the month... There are only two hundred days left until the college entrance exam..."

More than two hundred days.

Time is of the essence.

He was no longer the brilliant, top-scoring student who achieved the highest honors in the imperial examinations at the age of eighteen. In this world, he was just a poor, academically weak, and virtually invisible high school senior. His textbooks were blank, and his mind was almost devoid of modern knowledge.

However, a long-lost, scorching torrent surged from the deepest part of my heart, instantly dispelling all the chill brought by unfamiliarity and confusion.

That was the pride and fighting spirit of a scholar deeply rooted in his soul.

Since Heaven has granted me a second chance at life, and since the door to the imperial examinations is still open to me, Xie Qingyan, what reason do I have to live a mediocre life?

He turned around, his gaze returning to the pile of brand-new textbooks, his eyes now completely different. The previous confusion had been replaced by a clear light.

Let's start here.

Let's start with this first mock exam.

In these two hundred-plus days, I will reclaim the fame and path that belong to me, Xie Qingyan, in this world!

——

Before dawn, faint noises could be heard coming from the kitchen.

Xie Qingyan was a very light sleeper and got up when he heard the noise. He saw his mother busy at the stove, skillfully making flatbreads, while the lean meat porridge in the pot was bubbling away.

This surprised him slightly. According to the original owner's memories, Xie's parents should have been busy in the vegetable garden at this moment in order to go to the early market to sell vegetables.

"Mom, what's wrong...?"

"Awake?" Xie's mother turned around, her eyes were dark, but her smile was incredibly warm. "Mom will make you a pancake and a bowl of hot porridge. Eat your fill before you go to school."

"I'm all better now. You and Father should focus on making money. Don't worry about me." Xie Qingyan addressed him using the form of address from his memory, his tone carrying a hint of the original owner's stiffness, yet also revealing a touch of consideration.

Xie's mother paused, her eyes slightly reddening, then her tone became even more firm: "Money can't be earned all the time! Your father will take care of the work in the fields. Your parents were confused before, always thinking that earning more money would make you live a better life. From now on, Mom will make you breakfast every day. Our Xiao Yan is in his final year of high school, so he needs to eat a good breakfast." She took the golden-brown pancake out of the pan and hurriedly added: "Don't be nervous about the mock exam at the end of the month. The score isn't important; participation is what matters!"

Xie Qingyan looked at the woman's genuine guilt and expectation, and his heart stirred slightly. Back in Dajing, he had studied diligently, and his parents had also supported him by scrimping and saving. He nodded silently, accepting this unfamiliar warmth into his heart.

Soon, two bowls of lean meat porridge, two flatbreads, and two boiled eggs were placed on the table.

Xie Qingyan ate a simple breakfast to her heart's content.

After the meal, Xie's mother pushed out a vegetable tricycle and used it to take Xie Qingyan to the Ninth Middle School of the city.

The school gate was crowded with students and parents, making Xie's mother's tricycle seem somewhat out of place. But she didn't seem to care, only urging, "Hurry up and get to the classroom!"

Standing at the school gate, Xie Qingyan was momentarily dazed.

The morning sun gilded the school gate with a golden edge, and students in matching blue and white school uniforms stood around it, chatting and laughing in small groups, exuding the unique vigor of youth.

"A young man full of vigor will surely rise to prominence in his time."

This scene is so similar to the students of the Imperial Academy in his memory! That pure desire for knowledge in youth, that spiritedness among classmates, transcends a thousand years and is so relatable.

However, as his gaze swept over the strange watches on their wrists, and he heard unfamiliar words like "games" and "live stream," along with the distant, towering buildings reflecting a cold light, that familiar feeling was quickly swallowed up by a profound sense of alienation.

He was like a lost soul who had wandered into the future, standing at the crossroads of time, where the familiar scholarly atmosphere and the unfamiliar torrent of steel violently collided with his soul.

Finding Class 32 in his memory, Xie Qingyan sat down in his seat. The students around him were chatting and laughing in small groups, no one noticing his arrival. Two boys in front of him were playing around; a pen slammed onto his desk with a "thud," bouncing off him. The boy glanced back, picked up the pen without any apology, and went back to playing.

Xie Qingyan's gaze darkened slightly. The original owner's situation here was even less noticeable than he had expected.

Just then, the school bell rang sharply. The gray-haired Chinese teacher walked in with her textbook, and almost simultaneously, a figure appeared in the doorway.

It is Jiang Ci.

He was still wearing that faded school uniform, the bandage on his forehead particularly glaring. He lowered his head slightly, his wispy hair obscuring his expression, radiating an aura of icy indifference.

"Jiang Ci! Why are you late again? You don't act like a senior in high school at all!" The Chinese teacher, Mr. Long, obviously knew about his past misdeeds. He gave a few perfunctory reprimands before impatiently waving him in.

A suppressed murmur filled the classroom, interspersed with several undisguised, mocking glances. Jiang Ci ignored them and walked straight to his seat.

It wasn't until he sat down in the empty seat next to Xie Qingyan that Xie Qingyan realized that the boy she had met briefly at the hospital the day before was actually her deskmate.

My heart skipped a beat for no reason. That inexplicable sense of familiarity resurfaced, like looking at an old image through frosted glass, both clear and blurry.

After carefully searching through the original owner's memories, Xie Qingyan learned that Jiang Ci had only transferred to this class yesterday. The original owner had no interaction with this new classmate, which explained why Xie Qingyan had no recollection of Jiang Ci when she saw him at the hospital yesterday.

As if sensing Xie Qingyan's scrutinizing gaze, Jiang Ci turned his head, and their eyes met. Xie Qingyan, like a startled deer, quickly shifted his gaze to the blackboard.

Jiang Ci lowered his head, took out a competition problem book from his desk, and began to work on the problems with great concentration.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windowpanes, casting dappled shadows in the chalk-dust-filled air. Teacher Long stood on the podium, lecturing on the Analects, Book 2, Chapter 10, his voice as soothing as a lullaby.

"...Therefore, the common understanding of the saying 'A gentleman is not a vessel' is that a gentleman should not be like a tool, having only one purpose, but should be learned and versatile..."

Most of the students in the audience were drowsy or secretly flipping through their science problems under their desks. For this ordinary high school, which places more emphasis on college entrance examination pass rates, Chinese language classes, especially classical Chinese classes, are almost a dispensable supplement.

Xie Qingyan sat upright, his gaze fixed on his textbook, but his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. The teacher's explanation was correct, but superficial, failing to grasp the essence of the ancient sages' thoughts. Lost in his own thoughts, he unconsciously raised his right hand, his index finger lightly tracing a line in the air—a gesture of holding a pen.

"Xie Qingyan."

The teacher's call to roll snapped him back to reality, his fingers abruptly stopping. He looked up and met the teacher's slightly displeased gaze—the teacher had clearly noticed his distraction.

"Tell me your understanding of 'a gentleman is not a vessel.' Tell me how Zhu Xi interpreted this sentence?" Teacher Long's tone carried a hint of testing, perhaps even a touch of reluctance. Everyone knew Xie Qingyan's grades were at the bottom, especially in subjects requiring memorization.

A few low snickers rippled through the classroom. The boy in the front row who had thrown his pen at him earlier turned around without any attempt to hide his amusement, waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Xie Qingyan slowly stood up. He did not answer immediately, but instead, following his ingrained habit, he slightly cupped his hands in the direction of his teacher and performed a simplified version of the traditional bow: "Teacher."

This untimely action only amplified the snickers in the classroom. The teacher was also taken aback.

In this unfriendly atmosphere, Xie Qingyan spoke, his voice clear and melodious like a jade chime, instantly silencing all other noises: "Zhu Xi said in his 'Collected Annotations on the Four Books,' 'Utensils are each suited to their own use and cannot be interchanged. A person of complete virtue possesses all qualities, therefore their uses are all-encompassing, not merely limited to one talent or skill.' This interpretation is certainly accurate, but I believe that stopping there is somewhat superficial."

Once the words were spoken, the entire room fell silent.

Even the teacher's face showed a hint of surprise. Not only did he accurately quote Zhu Xi's original text, but he even dared to say that it "missed the mark"?

Xie Qingyan continued unhurriedly, “The deeper meaning of Confucius’s words lies in the distinction between ‘the Way’ and ‘the Skill.’ What a gentleman should focus on is ‘the Way.’ The Way is fundamental, while the Skill is secondary. If one is fixated on a single skill or ability, one becomes immersed in ‘the Skill’ and forgets the ‘Way.’ Therefore, a gentleman’s learning should first clarify his mind, cultivate his nature, and understand the fundamental principles of the universe and human life. In this way, no matter what position he holds or what he faces, he can calmly follow the middle way. This is the true meaning of ‘not being a vessel.’ For example…”

After a moment's thought, he casually quoted: "For example, when Zai Wo took a nap during the day, Confucius said, 'Rotten wood cannot be carved.' This was not to criticize him for not being diligent in his studies, but to lament that his ambition was dull and he had not been able to hone his 'Way'. Another example is Zigong, who was unparalleled in his eloquence and skilled in business. Confucius also praised him because although he possessed the talent of 'tools,' he had not lost the essence of 'Way.'"

He quoted extensively from classical texts, speaking eloquently and elevating the phrase "a gentleman is not a vessel" from its literal meaning to a philosophical level, connecting it to other chapters of the Analects with clear logic and profound insights. He wasn't merely answering questions; he was more like a learned ancient scholar expounding on classical meaning, transforming the entire classroom into his lecture hall.

All the drowsiness and snickers vanished. The classmates stared at him in disbelief, as if they were seeing this seemingly insignificant classmate sitting in the corner for the first time.

Teacher Long adjusted his glasses, his expression shifting from astonishment to surprise, and finally to unbelievable admiration.

In the midst of this silent shock, Xie Qingyan keenly sensed that the cold gaze that had always kept him at bay was, for the first time, truly falling upon him.

He turned his head slightly, meeting Jiang Ci's gaze.

His figure was now clearly reflected in those eyes that were once barren and numb, filled with a complete and undisguised astonishment and inquiry, as if they were examining an unbelievable mystery they had never seen before.

Xie Qingyan understood, but his expression remained calm. He withdrew his gaze and nodded slightly to his teacher again: "This student's opinion is humble; please correct me, sir."

The teacher then seemed to snap out of a daze, nodding repeatedly, her voice brimming with barely concealed excitement: "Good, good! You understand very well! Sit down, please sit down!"

Xie Qingyan calmly took her seat.

The classroom remained eerily quiet, with only the sunlight flowing silently through it.

The bell rang, and Teacher Long, still brimming with admiration, hurried away with her lesson plan, seemingly eager to return to her office and share her discovery with the other teachers.

As soon as the teacher left, the tense atmosphere in the classroom instantly eased, giving way to a more subtle and nuanced ambiance. The students who had been chuckling earlier exchanged glances, their eyes frequently darting towards Xie Qingyan, who was packing her books alone.

The boy who had thrown the pen at him, named Li Ming, couldn't contain himself any longer and deliberately dragged out his words: "Wow, I didn't realize Xie Qingyan was so talented! He's been keeping a low profile all this time! He gave us such a long lecture that it made my head spin. A real genius?"

He emphasized the last three words, his tone filled with mockery and ill intent. Several of his henchmen joined in the laughter, waiting to see Xie Qingyan make a fool of himself.

Xie Qingyan took out the textbook for the next math class, his movements unhurried. He raised his head and looked calmly at Li Ming. There was no anger at being mocked in his clear eyes; instead, there was a scrutinizing look that was almost pitying.

He suddenly smiled slightly, a gentle smile that inexplicably made Li Ming's heart skip a beat.

"Student Li, you flatter me. I am unworthy of the title 'talented scholar.'" His voice remained calm, as if he were expounding on the classics in class. "However, I noticed that you were frequently massaging your Jingming and Taiyang acupoints while listening to the lecture, but you often seem to feel dizzy and lack energy?"

Li Ming was taken aback, and subconsciously touched his forehead: "What's it to you?"