My IQ has been increasing year by year.

November 2001.

For Zhang Qiang, a student in Class 3, Grade 6 of Yuhong Primary School, life is like his sneakers, which he wore for three months and the soles were worn flat. They look sturdy, but in reality, every step he takes is on the verge of slipping.

Eight o'clock in the morning.

He had turned into a huge, fat rabbit, and was being kept in an iron cage.

Outside the cage, Chen Zhuo, wearing an ill-fitting, small-sized school uniform, held a gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. His glasses reflected the light as he asked him expressionlessly:

"Zhang Qiang, we know there are thirty-five heads and ninety-four feet in the cage. Now, I ask you, if I chop you up and make you into braised chicken pieces, how many feet will the remaining chicken have...?"

"Brother! Brother! Don't chop it up! Don't chop it up! I don't taste good! I only have two legs!"

Zhang Qiang cried out as he watched the kitchen knife fall with a whoosh.

"ah!!!"

......

Zhang Qiang was startled awake.

Zhang Qiang shouted in his dream and suddenly jumped out of bed.

Zhang Qiang sat on the bed, covered in cold sweat, his heart pounding as if it were about to jump out of his chest.

The sky outside the window was overcast, and the autumn rain from the south pattered against the windowpane, making a rustling sound that was unsettling.

Zhang Qiang wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

8:05.

Fortunately.

It was a dream.

Fortunately.

Today is Sunday.

They don't have to go to school to face that math test paper covered in red crosses, nor do they have to face the homeroom teacher's bitter face that says, "You're hopeless."

Zhang Qiang collapsed back onto the bed, staring blankly at a yellowish water stain on the ceiling.

"well......"

Zhang Qiang let out a long sigh, turned over, buried his face in the pillow, and felt like a mantis shrimp whose tendons had been pulled out.

Ever since his brother skipped a grade to attend the city's No. 1 High School, Zhang Qiang felt that half of his life had lost its luster.

Although we can still meet by the fence every day at noon, and I can listen to Brother Zhuo's scientific research, which I don't understand but seems very impressive...

But things are different now.

Back in elementary school, Chen Zhuo was the little guy who sat in front of him and needed his protection.

Now, Chen Zhuo has become the captain of two competition teams. He is a prodigy and a big shot that even the older students in the third year of junior high school have to call "Brother Zhuo".

And what about Zhang Qiang?

He's a chubby sixth-grade boy who takes half an hour to solve even the chicken-and-rabbit problem and still doesn't get it right.

"This can't go on!"

Zhang Qiang clenched his fists in bed.

"My brother Zhuo said that the difference between people is essentially the difference in computing power. He has a Pentium 4, while I'm just a plug-in card power supply. Although I can't upgrade the hardware, I have to find a way to overclock it!"

Zhang Qiang howled incoherently in bed.

Speaking of which, he has been very worried about Chen Zhuo these past few days.

A few days ago at noon, he went to deliver lunch to the iron fence on the west side of the No. 1 Middle School as usual.

Even through the rusty iron bars, he could see that Chen Zhuo's face was a little pale, and he even had dark circles under his eyes.

Zhang Qiang was heartbroken at the time.

"Brother Zhuo, what's wrong with you?" he asked at the time.

Chen Zhuo didn't say much, but occasionally he would utter some words that he himself couldn't understand.

Although Zhang Qiang couldn't understand it, he was deeply shocked.

This is clearly an overload!

Although Zhang Qiang doesn't understand physics, he does understand four-wheel drive vehicles.

At that moment, he felt that Chen Zhuo was like his four-wheel drive car equipped with an "atomic fission" motor, with too high a speed and too high a voltage, the coils were almost red-hot and were emitting invisible blue smoke.

"no."

Zhang Qiang turned over in bed, his eyes hardening.

"Brother Zhuo is the hope of the whole village... no, the whole family compound. His brain is a national asset; he's the kind of person who will build rockets and win the Nobel Prize someday."

"I'm the eldest brother (everyone's on their own, just to preemptively address any potential issues), even though I'm not very bright and can't figure out how many legs that chicken and rabbit have, I'm in charge of logistics."

"I need to replenish my energy."

Zhang Qiang recalled his grandmother's wise saying: "You are what you eat. If your legs are weak, eat tendons; if your eyesight is poor, eat fish eyes; if your mind is slow... then you have to eat things that look like brains."

Pig brain?

Zhang Qiang imagined the scene: that white, reddish lump, going to be cooked in a hot pot...

呕。

He shivered.

If I took that thing to Chen Zhuo's house, I'd probably get chased out by Aunt Liu with a broom before I even got inside.

No no no

Zhang Qiang shook his head.

That leaves only one option.

walnut.

The king of nuts, the embodiment of wisdom, looks exactly like the cerebral cortex.

"Yes, let's buy walnuts!"

Zhang Qiang did a somersault, though because he had a bit of belly fat, it was more like a carp rolling off the bed as he got up.

Today is Sunday.

He has an important mission to carry out.

He wanted to find the most perfect walnut in the city for his good brother, for this future scientist!

Get dressed, wash your face, brush your teeth.

Zhang Qiang wiped the toothpaste foam from the corner of his mouth in front of the mirror, looked at the chubby, round-faced boy in the mirror, and tried to force a serious expression.

"Zhang Qiang, you are carrying a mission," he said to himself.

I returned to my desk.

The desk was a mess, piled with Saint Seiya comic books, crumbs of unfinished instant noodles, and a math test paper with only the word "understanding" written on it.

Zhang Qiang pushed all the messy things aside.

He rummaged through his pencil case.

As someone who wants to "scientifically select" items in a chaotic place like the Nanmen Market, you can't do it without some professional tools.

Finally, at the very bottom of the pencil case, he pulled out a ruler.

It was a 20-centimeter-long transparent plastic ruler.

It comes with one of those drawing sets that cost two yuan at the stationery store near the school gate.

The edge of the ruler was dented and worn, and the graduation lines were also worn down. There was even a clear row of teeth marks at the 15-centimeter mark.

That was the sound Zhang Qiang made while thinking about a math problem.

Although it is not precise.

Although it was just a broken ruler used by elementary school students.

But in Zhang Qiang's eyes, at this moment, it is a scepter, a scientific yardstick, and the only standard for distinguishing between high-quality and low-quality products.

"Take it with you."

Zhang Qiang solemnly stuffed the ruler into his pocket.

Besides tools, you also need theory.

Zhang Qiang sat in the chair, closed his eyes, and began to review in his mind the scientific theories that Chen Zhuo had once told him (although most of them were his own imagination).

First rule: Bigger is better.

This is a simple truth: the larger the CPU, the more transistors it has; the larger the car, the more horsepower it has; therefore, the larger the walnut, the more energy it contains.

Article 2: Structure determines function.

Chen Zhuo once said that the brain is intelligent because of its deep sulci and large surface area.

The same goes for walnuts.

Those walnuts with smooth, shiny surfaces are definitely no good. If the shell is so shiny, it means the brain is slippery too; knowledge can't stand on it and will slip away as soon as it's exposed.

You have to find the kind that's ugly, pitted, and with lines so deep they could trap a mosquito.

That's what you call rich in nuances, that's what you call deep.

Article 3: Density.

Zhang Qiang weighed the eraser in his hand.

The heavier ones are solid, and the lighter ones are hollow.

When buying walnuts, don't buy the empty ones; you have to buy the kind that are heavy enough to press against your wrist. When you crack them open, they're full of oil, the essence of wisdom.

"All done!"

Zhang Qiang slapped his thigh, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and opened the door.

"Mom! I'm going out for a bit!"

"Where are you going in this heavy rain? Have you finished your homework?"

My mother's piercing roar echoed from the kitchen, accompanied by the chopping sound of the cutting board.

"I'm going to deliver...to Chen Zhuo's review materials! I'll also check something at the library while I'm at it!"

Zhang Qiang lied without batting an eye.

In this family, the name "Chen Zhuo" is a get-out-of-jail-free card, a hundred times more effective than any study I could possibly have.

Sure enough, Mom's voice immediately became much gentler:

"Oh, you're looking for Xiao Zhuo? Go ahead then. Wait a minute!"

My mom poked her head out of the kitchen, holding a bunch of scallions.

"Take that carton of milk from the fridge! Give it to Xiaozhuo to help him recover. Also, are you having lunch at their place? Don't cause them any trouble! Let us know in advance if you're coming back for lunch!"

"Okay! I won't be coming back for dinner!"

Zhang Qiang picked up the carton of milk, thought for a moment, and then put it down.

The milk was too heavy, which affected his mobility at the market.

We'll talk about it later.

Zhang Qiang grabbed the umbrella by the door, tucked the plastic ruler in his pocket, along with the loose 15.5 yuan coins and small bills he had saved up over the past week, and rushed into the rain.