"Thump—"

It was exactly 5 p.m.

The bronze bell atop the Jinling Auditorium was struck, its deep and resonant sound echoing across the campus.

The heavy, carved wooden door, which had been tightly closed for eight hours, slowly opened to both sides with a teeth-grinding scraping sound.

The sound, to the parents and teachers waiting outside the door, was like a floodgate being opened.

But for the candidates inside the door, it was like a signal that some kind of trial was coming to an end.

As soon as the door was opened, a strong smell of people who had been sitting for eight hours and the burnt smell of overheated machines hit me right in the head.

Then, a large crowd surged out.

These top students from across the province, who were full of vigor and determined to make a name for themselves in Nanjing that morning...

At this moment, they looked like a group of defeated soldiers who had just retreated from the battlefield.

Most people were pale, their eyes were glazed, and their steps were unsteady as if they were walking on cotton.

Some girls had barely stepped out the door and hadn't even seen their teacher yet.

Tears fell without warning, silently landing on the steps.

Mental exhaustion brings not only fatigue, but also a sense of emptiness and self-doubt that rises from the depths of the soul.

However, amidst this gloomy and dejected crowd, one figure stood out as out of place.

Lin Que casually strolled out with one hand in his pocket, swaying along with the crowd.

He raised his other hand high and stretched languidly.

With a soft "click" from his spine, he let out a satisfied sigh.

His expression was as if he had just taken a pleasant afternoon nap in an air-conditioned room and was about to go out to find food.

In fact, he did fall asleep.

After completing that grandly conceived story

In the last two hours, having nothing to do, he simply lay down on the table and took a nap.

It wasn't until the bell rang that he was pulled back from his dream.

This sense of relaxation stood out starkly against the backdrop of an atmosphere of profound grief and mourning.

It even carries a touch of cruelty.

As soon as Lin Que stepped down the high steps of the auditorium, he bumped into Zhang Ya and Li Bowen, who had also just come out.

These two weren't much better off.

Zhang Ya, the class monitor who always sat up straight, had slightly red eyes at this moment.

She had bitten her lips so hard that they left a row of deep teeth marks, and the transparent file folder in her hand was clenched so tightly that it was deformed.

Li Bowen, who was usually unfazed even by the collapse of Mount Tai, seemed to have developed obsessive-compulsive disorder, constantly taking off his glasses to wipe them, putting them back on, and then taking them off again to wipe them.

His eyes were fixed blankly on the ground, as if there were an unsolvable problem in quantum mechanics there.

The three met up.

Normally, Zhang Ya would also have eagerly pressed for an answer:

"Lin Que, what is your intention this time? What allusions did you use?"

But today, the air is eerily quiet.

The three walked side by side toward the meeting point at the North Building, a full two hundred meters, without a single person uttering a word.

That desperate tacit understanding flowed between the three of them.

Zhang Ya and Li Bowen didn't even glance at Lin Que, as if asking the question about the "topic" would be the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Along the way, I could hear all sorts of suppressed wails.

"Was this a question created by a human? Eight hours... My hands were shaking by the end..."

"Don't ask me, I want to be alone, I want to go home..."

"I feel like my logic has completely collapsed; the plot twist in the middle just doesn't make sense..."

...

When they arrived at the sycamore trees under the Peking University building, most of the students from Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School had already gathered there.

Dean Fei Yuncheng was still holding the megaphone in his hand.

But he just stood there, his gaze sweeping over the dejected students who returned one by one.

All the impassioned speeches and official platitudes he had prepared, such as "show your style and compete at your best," were swallowed back down.

Fei Yuncheng, who had been holding the megaphone halfway up, froze in mid-air for two seconds before silently putting it down.

Looking at these students who looked like wilted eggplants,

He swallowed back the impassioned speech he had prepared, along with his saliva.

Is everyone here?

Fei Yuncheng cleared his throat, his voice unconsciously lowering.

"Let's count everyone's numbers. Once everyone's here, we'll get on the bus. Everyone's tired, let's go back to the hotel and rest first."

There was no debriefing, no reprimand, only silence.

The bus drove back to Zhuangyuanlou Hotel in the twilight.

The hotel lobby was magnificent, with crystal chandeliers casting their light on the cold marble floor, but they couldn't illuminate the gloom in the hearts of these teenagers.

Shen Qingqiu stood at the front of the line, looking at the group of students who looked like wilted eggplants, and sighed inwardly.

As the homeroom teacher, she keenly sensed that the tension in everyone's minds was on the verge of breaking.

What's needed at this time isn't comfort, but catharsis.

"Alright, everyone, lift your heads!"

Shen Qingqiu clapped his hands, a relaxed smile appearing on his face:

"Although the exams are over, our trip isn't over yet. Director Fei just said that we won't be having the hotel buffet tonight, so everyone is free to do as they please."

She pointed to the brightly lit street outside the hotel:

"The Confucius Temple is right next door. Tonight, Director Fei will pay for everyone to eat at Jinling Food Stall!"

There's no problem that a good meal can't solve; if one meal can't, then two will do!

"Wow--"