Chapter 26: Honor Roll

The students of Class Five might be abstract thinkers, but they were far from stupid—otherwise, they wouldn’t be sharing a classroom with Chen Shian.

Wait, that’s not quite right! Who came first, after all?

At first, everyone thought Chen Shian had transferred into Class Five because of his outstanding academic record. That myth was soon dispelled: the so-called “Daoist” was a hopeless straggler who needed to learn from junior high basics.

Anyone attending Yunqi No.1 High School knew how hard it was to get in, let alone transfer in halfway through. Students like that either boasted top grades, possessed extraordinary talents, or came from wealthy families.

Chen Shian clearly didn’t have the grades. As for special talents... could Daoist cultivation really count as one the school recognized?

And wealth? It was hard to say whether Chen Shian was rich or poor, but experience suggested that students who simply bought their way in never landed in the advanced classes.

Eliminating all other possibilities, only one remained: the Daoist must have powerful connections!

Where did the power in Yunqi No.1 High School reside? Aside from the principal’s office, where else could it be? And he was the only one in class who shared a desk with Lin Mengqiu. Who was she, after all? If it wasn’t arranged by the principal, who else could have sat with her? No wonder Old Liang was so friendly to the Daoist!

With two such figures in their not-too-large class, everyone felt suffocated.

Fortunately, the Daoist was much more approachable than the class monitor. The students, finding a new outlet, soon shifted all the enthusiasm they’d reserved for Lin Mengqiu onto Chen Shian.

“Brother An! Our class is over here!”

Chen Shian, following his classmates to the athletic field for morning exercises, was still in the assembly phase. The students stood scattered, from left to right by grade—Grade One through Three—Class Five of Grade Two was somewhere in the middle.

“Are we supposed to line up?”

“Yes, boys in one row, girls in another. Just pick any spot, Brother An.” Xu Zihan, the PE monitor, quickly tidied up the team before rushing to the front to lead the exercises.

Chen Shian was tall for his class, so he stood at the back of the boys’ row.

In the science class, there were fewer girls than boys. To keep the rows neat, surplus boys would line up behind the girls until both rows were even.

It was Chen Shian’s first time doing these morning exercises, and he found it rather novel.

He glanced around the bustling crowd but didn’t spot Wen Zhixia—probably because she was petite and had been placed ahead with Class Eleven.

He did, however, spot Lin Mengqiu with ease. She was, after all, in his class and tall; standing in the girls’ row, just a few places diagonally in front of him.

Unlike her chattering classmates, Lin Mengqiu stood silently, unsmiling, like a slender bamboo by still waters. Her back was straight, but she carried herself with an effortless lightness. Beneath her simple school uniform, her shoulder blades faintly showed—like the folded wings of a butterfly.

Though her manner was ladylike, she gave off a certain aloofness, as if even the wind brushed her hair more gently than it did others.

Chen Shian noticed that, aside from some boys in his own class, many boys from other classes were casting admiring glances at Lin Mengqiu. But the girl stared into the distance, oblivious to it all—those glances would come to nothing.

As Chen Shian watched her, Lin Mengqiu turned her head, her gaze sweeping from the front row of boys until it paused briefly on his face. She didn’t look further back—just turned away again.

What did that mean? Was she checking if he’d shown up for morning exercises?

Chen Shian smiled. As perceptive as he was, he still couldn’t always read her thoughts. Master was right—women’s hearts are the hardest to fathom. Best not to tell fortunes for women.

It was time for exercises.

The assembled classes spread out, each squad opening up. Seen from the teaching building, the scene was spectacular: three or four thousand students forming a phalanx on the field, radiating outward from the center as though moved by an invisible hand. The once-impenetrable wall of people opened into gaps, sunlight pouring down and casting a mosaic of light and shadow across the moving bodies.

In moments, the loose crowd had transformed into a tidy grid.

The air felt fresher, the view less obstructed.

Chen Shian glanced again toward Class Eleven and finally, through a gap, spotted Wen Zhixia.

She was chatting with the girl behind her.

Class Eleven was an arts class, with the gender ratio the reverse of Class Five: there, girls had to fill out the boys’ row.

Chen Shian thought for a moment, then asked the boy in front of him, Zou Xiaokun, “Xiaokun, what kind of class is Class Eleven?”

“They’re an elite arts class—just like ours, but for the top arts students!” Zou Xiaokun was delighted that Chen Shian had come to him for information, grinning, “Brother An, there’s nothing about our school I don’t know! If you’ve got questions, just ask me!”

So they were top students, too. That little chatterbox must have good grades.

“How are the classes divided in our school?” Chen Shian asked.

“According to subject choice and grades. In the second term of Grade One, you pick your subjects and get placed. There are advanced classes, key classes, and regular classes. After every term’s final exam, there are promotions and eliminations… But don’t worry, even if Zihan gets kicked out, they’d never kick you out, Brother An.”

“…”

“Brother An, do you know how to do the exercises?”

“What exercises?”

“The radio calisthenics—the ones we’re about to do.”

“Never learned.”

“So what did you do for health at the Daoist temple? Run?”

“Meditate, regulate my breathing, or practice things like the Eight Brocades, Five Animal Frolics, or Daoist guiding exercises.”

His friends’ faces lit up with awe.

“Breathing can be exercise?”

“Of course. Breath regulation is key to cultivating qi. Inhaling, feeding on air, guiding, swallowing, circulating energy, gathering energy... upper breath, lower breath, full breath, charging breath, holding, long, deep breath... If you focus on wind, your mind scatters; focus on panting, your mind knots; focus on qi, your mind labors; but focus on breath, and your mind finds peace.”

“Brother! Take me as your disciple! I really have to learn this!”

Chen Shian: “…”

No one thought he was showing off. For someone so young, so adept in Daoist arts, it wasn’t showing off; he simply was what he was! If they could learn even a trick or two from him, they’d be the coolest kids around.

But Chen Shian didn’t take half-hearted disciples.

The calisthenics began.

Students moved with the music, performing the prescribed motions—those in front did well, those behind were sloppier.

Chen Shian, unfamiliar with the routine, stood and observed, finding it easy enough, so he followed along a beat behind, learning as he went.

As for its effectiveness… it was better than nothing, he supposed. The routine mainly stretched the limbs—nothing like his usual practice, which trained not just the body but the mind.

When the calisthenics ended, the students didn’t disperse immediately but gathered again, waiting for the school leaders’ speeches.

It was the first day of term, and the speaker was Principal Lin.

Principal Lin rarely addressed the students. Compared to other leaders, students liked him more simply for being considerate—he tended to keep his speeches brief, knowing how tiring it was to stand.

But Vice Principal Zhou was another matter; if he got the microphone, he’d go on for half an hour at least!

As Principal Lin’s own daughter, one could only wonder how Lin Mengqiu felt seeing her father on stage.

Curious, Chen Shian watched her. Usually so impassive, Lin Mengqiu now repeatedly rolled her eyes, never once looking up at the podium…

But Principal Lin, now and then, would glance toward Class Five, searching for his precious daughter.

Luckily, Vice Principal Zhou didn’t have the mic today. Principal Lin briefly welcomed the new Grade One students, encouraged the seniors to work hard, and quickly handed things over to the PE teachers to dismiss the crowd.

The quiet crowd erupted into noise.

With limited stairways, some students near the building made a dash to get upstairs first. The slower ones, like Chen Shian, found themselves wedged in the bottleneck, waiting their turn.

He took his time, pausing to examine the honor roll on the bulletin board.

[Science]
[First Place: Grade Two, Class Five, Lin Mengqiu—Chinese 136, Math 150, English 140, Physics 95, Chemistry 93, Biology 92, Total 706]

Though grades aren’t the sole measure of a person, there’s nothing more direct than rankings when it comes to academic achievement.

Chen Shian didn’t have much sense of what the numbers meant, but a comparison made it clear: Lin Mengqiu’s grades were outstanding, a full fifteen points above second place. The top ten all scored above 670; you needed at least 600 to make the honor roll—a spot in the top hundred.

Now that his master was gone, only he and Feimo remained at Jingchen Temple. Feimo did little but eat and sleep—at least he didn’t disgrace the temple. The duty of restoring Jingchen Temple’s honor fell entirely on Chen Shian’s shoulders. He certainly didn’t want to embarrass the temple with poor grades, but as a new student, he knew he couldn’t rush things.

But without a clear mind, one cannot perceive the Way; without firm resolve, one cannot achieve merit. He still needed a goal.

Of course, his goal wasn’t merely to make the top hundred.

He stared at Lin Mengqiu’s ranking and scores for a long time…

That sly desk mate! She’d said seven hundred points was enough for first place, but hadn’t counted herself…

Hah, such an arrogant desk mate—couldn’t she be a bit more modest, like him?

After checking the science rankings, Chen Shian stepped over to the arts honor roll.

The first name that met his eyes was all too familiar—

[Arts]
[First Place: Grade Two, Class Eleven, Wen Zhixia—Chinese 141, Math 138, English 146, Politics 89, History 92, Geography 88, Total 689]

Wen Zhixia’s chattering, lively manner was the very opposite of Lin Mengqiu’s quiet reserve. Since the day before, when they’d met on the bus, she’d done nothing but complain to Chen Shian about how hard and tiring studying was, one moment envying Daoists, the next envying cats, wailing, “I don’t want to study…”

Chen Shian had assumed she was, at best, an average student. Now, seeing this, how had she quietly become the top arts student?

Little chatterbox, you’re not honest either!