What's wrong with me, a school principal, listening to students' suggestions?

provincial capital.

Private room on the second floor of Jinhonglou.

The No. 1 Middle School competition team booked a large table for twelve people. Before all the dishes were served, the atmosphere was already lively.

Wang Haoran stood up, the chair leg scraping against the floor with a sharp sound.

He propped himself up on the table with his left hand, pointed his chopsticks at the ceiling with his right hand, and spoke so loudly that the whole private room echoed.

"One hundred and fifty!"

"The third sub-question of the last, most challenging problem was definitely not miscalculated!"

"The provincial team is in the bag!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the opposing team reacted and burst into applause.

Snapped!

The door to the private room was opened, and a bald man poked half his body out, his expression not very friendly.

"Can't we have a quiet meal? Are you setting off firecrackers here?"

The applause stopped abruptly.

The twelve high school students all shrank back, only coming back to life after the bald man cursed and closed the door.

"Cough, keep your voice down, keep your voice down."

Wang Haoran pressed his hand down, but the smile on his lips was impossible to hide.

Qian Wenhua sat in the main seat, his hands folded on the table, with a cup of pre-Qingming Longjing tea beside him.

"Okay, okay."

"Where are the others? Report their names."

"I estimated it to be 136."

I am 134.

"I should have 131, but I didn't have time for the last step of the fourth question."

"I'm 138cm!"

One number after another appeared, all fluctuating around 130.

As Qian Wenhua listened, the corners of his mouth gradually curved upwards.

By the time the last person finished saying "133", his mouth was practically stretched to his ears with a grin.

Wang Haoran scored 150, and the team's average score exceeded 133.

What does this mean?

This means that the top high school is guaranteed to be among the top in the province!

Perhaps Wang Haoran can even represent the provincial team captain in the competition!

And what about No. 13 Middle School?

A group of amateur players who had only been training for a month, a makeshift team with no competition records from last year.

Qian Wenhua leaned back in his chair, and the pent-up frustration that had been building up in his chest for half a month finally eased as it traveled up his esophagus, making him feel so comfortable that he almost wanted to hum a little tune.

He burped.

"Wang Haoran." Qian Wenhua put down his teacup and waved.

"headmaster."

"You just said... Lu Chen stopped writing after half an hour in the exam room?"

Wang Haoran pulled out a chair, sat down, crossed his legs, and sneered.

"Yes, both the first and second attempts. In the first attempt, he lost the paper in less than 30 minutes, and the second attempt was about the same."

"and then?"

"Then he sat there twirling his pen and looking around."

Wang Haoran picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of beef, chewed it twice, and...

"At first, I thought he was really good at it, but then I realized, who can write the entire national league exam paper in twenty minutes?"

"He just can't do it," a teammate chimed in. "He's just putting on a brave face; if he can't write it, he'll pretend he's already finished."

"Yes! The last shred of dignity for a poor student!" another person chimed in. "Didn't you see how he looked after the exam?"

"His face was expressionless. When his teammates surrounded him and asked about his results, he only said two words."

Which two words?

"It's safe."

There was a moment of silence in the private room, then a burst of laughter erupted.

"He said it was a perfect score? Hahahaha!"

"You dare to claim a perfect score after only a month of practice? How arrogant can you be?"

"Keep pretending! He'll be crying when the results come out!"

Qian Wenhua didn't laugh along.

He merely twitched his nostrils slightly upwards, as if he could already smell the aroma of victory food.

Stand up.

Qian Wenhua held up his Longjing teacup and cleared his throat.

The twelve students immediately fell silent and turned to look at him.

"Tonight's dinner is on me."

Qian Wenhua looked around, a kind expression appearing on his face.

He looked like a leader presenting an award, or a gambler who had finally won.

"You all get some rest, and go back and regroup tomorrow."

He paused, then added a sentence.

"Defeating No. 13 Middle School is just the beginning."

"Mathematics competitions are essentially the boundary between civilization and barbarism."

The students exchanged glances, their expressions identical—they couldn't understand.

But no one dared to ask.

As long as the principal is happy.

Qian Wenhua put down his teacup and took out his phone from his pocket.

He scrolled through his contacts and found the name that had sent his blood pressure soaring countless times.

Lin Yucai.

My temples used to throb every time I saw this name.

But today is different.

Today he will take the initiative to call and "show his concern and offer his condolences".

Qian Wenhua's lips curled into a sinister smile as he pressed the dial button.

beep!beep!beep!

After the fourth ring, the call was connected.

A noisy background noise came from the other end of the phone.

Some people are laughing, and some are clinking glasses.

Are they also having a victory celebration banquet?

Qian Wenhua's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he quickly suppressed it.

"Hey, Principal Lin!" Qian Wenhua's voice was excessively enthusiastic. "Excuse me, excuse me. I just wanted to ask how the students at No. 13 Middle School did on their exams today?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

Lin Yucai's voice came through, tinged with doubt: "Hmm? I'm alright. What do you need me for?"

"It's nothing serious." Qian Wenhua leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and spoke leisurely.

"Haoran played really well today, I estimated he got 150, and I thought I'd share this good news with you."

"After all, this is your first time leading a team in a competition, so you must be feeling uncertain."

"I'm giving you a heads-up so you can be mentally prepared."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"oh."

Qian Wenhua was stunned for a moment; he had anticipated several possible reactions.

Outbursts of anger, silence, sophistry, or even hanging up.

The only thing I didn't expect was such a bland "oh".

What's wrong? Are you scared out of your wits?

Qian Wenhua was even happier and decided to increase the stakes.

"Principal Lin, I'm a straightforward person, please don't mind me."

He lowered his voice, his tone carrying a condescending pity.

"Competitions aren't something you can achieve by throwing money at a few teachers and having them cram for a month; you need a solid foundation."

"The students from your No. 13 Middle School have a weak foundation, so participating in this event will broaden their horizons."

"Losing is okay, just don't let the students' mentality collapse."

The other end of the phone went silent again.

Qian Wenhua grew more and more excited as he waited.

In his understanding, this silence had only one meaning: being touched on a sore spot and being powerless to refute.

"Alright, Principal Lin, I won't bother you any longer." Qian Wenhua's voice rose slightly at the end. "Comfort the students, treat them to a nice meal tomorrow, don't let them be too sad."

"Huh?" Lin Yucai's voice came through, "Wait, what did you just say Wang something-ran estimated the score for?"

"One hundred and fifty." Qian Wenhua pronounced these three words clearly.

"Oh, okay." Lin Yucai's tone was indifferent. "Alright, got it. Anything else?"

Qian Wenhua: "..."

This reaction is wrong.

According to the script, Lin Yucai should remain silent, stubbornly refute, or simply curse and hang up the phone.

How can you be so calm?

So angry he couldn't speak?

"No... nothing else." Qian Wenhua held the phone, feeling that something was off.

"Then I'll hang up."

beep.

Qian Wenhua stared blankly at his phone for a long time.

No, it's nine out of ten wrong.

Given Lin Yucai's personality, he would definitely retaliate if someone made such a sarcastic remark.

But not a single harsh word was spoken today.

Could it be... that they've broken down to the point where they don't even have the energy to argue anymore?

Thinking of this, Qian Wenhua's lips curled up again.

Well, that makes sense. They spent money to train their competitive class, but they were still utterly crushed by No. 1 Middle School.

Anyone would be devastated in that situation.

He picked up his teacup again and took another satisfied sip.

"Principal, what did Lin Yucai say?" Wang Haoran asked, leaning closer.

"I didn't say much," Qian Wenhua waved his hand casually. "I couldn't even speak properly; I guess I was scared by the number 150."

Laughter erupted again in the private room.

……

The provincial capital, a certain grand hotel.

Lin Yucai hung up the phone and turned to look at Su Qingyan sitting opposite him.

Is getting 150 out of 300 a lot?

Su Qingyan put the sweet and sour pork in her mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and looked at Lin Yucai's face, which was full of sincere doubt.

"I can't get there either."