My IQ has been increasing year by year.

3:30 p.m., Provincial Education Commission Guesthouse.

The King Long bus came to a stop on the concrete ground in the yard with a long, snorting sound.

The car door opened, and a wave of heat, a mixture of diesel fumes and the dusty smell unique to the provincial capital, rushed in.

"We've arrived. Take your things and don't leave anything behind."

Old Zhou stood up and patted the wrinkles on his suit.

A commotion broke out in the carriage.

People started pulling their bags down from the luggage racks.

No one was thinking about the ritual of going to war at this time; they were all sleeping with cold mat marks on their faces or their hair was a mess like a bird's nest.

Wang Yang had just woken up and, still half asleep, picked up his backpack, nearly bumping his head on the handrail.

Liu Kai was rummaging under his seat; he had no idea where his half-packet of biscuits had gone.

I got off the car and my feet touched solid ground.

The people have been brought back to life.

The guesthouse has a large courtyard with several old plane trees.

This place looks like an old government-run institution. The building is not tall, only four stories, with the exterior walls covered in the kind of beige tiles that were popular in the 1980s, and the windows have green aluminum alloy frames.

There weren't any colorful flags hanging at the entrance, just a bronze plaque that was polished to a shine.

Old Zhao, carrying a black faux leather briefcase with worn edges, walked at the front.

Old Zhou followed at the very back, still carrying the net bag of tea eggs that Chen Jianguo had forced on him.

The group entered the lobby.

The lobby has a terrazzo floor, the black and white pebbles of which are so smooth that they reflect your image.

There was a faint scent of perfume in the air, mixed with the smell of old wood.

The front desk was an old-fashioned tall counter, the wood was painted with clear varnish, and two waiters in dark red uniforms sat behind it.

There were no customers at the moment, and the two of them were huddled together, looking down at a magazine, with an enamel mug next to them.

Old Zhao walked over, placed his briefcase on the counter with a soft thud.

"Hello, this is No. 1 Middle School in the city. I made an order by phone before."

The waiter looked up and glanced at the group of students carrying large and small bags, without showing any surprise.

These guesthouses regularly accommodate delegations from cities and prefectures that come to attend meetings or take exams.

Did you bring the letter of introduction?

One of the older waiters asked a question, and casually tossed the sunflower seed shells in his hand into the wastepaper basket.

"I brought it."

Old Zhao unzipped his briefcase; it was one of those old-fashioned metal zippers that was a bit stiff to pull.

He took out a transparent file bag and pulled out a piece of letter paper.

The letter was handwritten, and at the bottom was the official red seal of the Finance Department of Zeyang No. 1 Middle School.

In addition to the letter of introduction, there was also a transfer check.

In this day and age, this is the proper procedure.

There's no electronic booking, and no credit card swipes; they only recognize this piece of paper and that stamp.

The waiter picked it up and glanced at it, his attitude immediately becoming much more serious.

After all, the No. 1 Middle School of the city is a well-established and prestigious school in the province, and it's not the first or second time every year that students are sent here for the exam.

"Oh, Teacher Zhao, right? I've already saved some for you."

The waiter flipped through the register while tapping away on his calculator.

"The third floor, the VIP building, all have rooms facing away from the sun, and it's quiet."

"Okay, could you please issue a few more room cards?"

"Also, when issuing invoices, be careful to write the full name as the invoice header, not the abbreviation, otherwise it will be difficult to report to the finance department."

"Okay, don't worry."

The waiter took out several keys from a compartment behind him—the kind of brass keys with rectangular plexiglass tags—and tossed them onto the counter, making a clattering sound.

Breakfast is on the first floor, from 7:00 to 8:30.

Old Zhao was handling the formalities here, while the students crowded into the sofa area in the lobby to wait.

The sofa was an old-fashioned faux leather sofa, with white lace cloths draped over the armrests.

When I sat down, there was a soft thud.

Liu Kai plopped down and groaned comfortably.

"Oh dear, my butt is all shaken up from this journey, it's so much more comfortable here."

Zhao Chen was about to put his feet on the coffee table when Nan Xiaoyun glared at him, so he awkwardly put them down again.

"Mind your manners, this is the provincial education commission's territory."

Nan Xiaoyun whispered a reminder.

At that moment, a few people came down the stairs on the other side of the lobby.

They also looked like students, and appeared to be around the same age as them.

However, they weren't carrying backpacks or water bottles.

Several people, holding cans of Coke, wearing light blue short-sleeved school uniforms and Nike basketball shoes, walked with a brisk pace.

Those were students from the Provincial Experimental High School.

In this provincial capital, wearing this school uniform on the street will get you more attention than wearing a suit.

Wang Yang was rubbing his legs when he saw the students and paused.

He nudged Zhao Chen, who was standing next to him.

"Hey, look."

"What are you looking at?"

Zhao Chen was bending down to tie his shoelaces.

"The one they're holding."

Zhao Chen looked up.

The students from the provincial experimental school were chatting as they walked out, one of them carrying a booklet.

It's very thin, probably only a few dozen pages.

The cover was made of the most ordinary blue coated paper, with a few bold characters printed on it. They weren't very clear from a distance, but it was definitely not one of those colorful study guides sold in bookstores.

The booklet was poorly made, like it was ordered by the school's printing press.

"What's that? Internal lecture notes?"

Zhao Chen squinted.

"I guess so."

Wang Yang's voice was a little hoarse.

"I just heard the guy with glasses say, 'All the questions Old Li set this time are on this.'"

"Who is Old Li?"

"Professor Li from the province, he's the head of the exam question-setting team this time."

Wang Yang bit his lip.

"This is what a true student looks like. We've done 10,000 problems, which is like finding a needle in a haystack. This one booklet of theirs is the standard answer key."

The students from the provincial experimental school quickly walked out of the revolving door and disappeared into the afternoon sunlight.

From beginning to end, they didn't even glance in our direction.

Just like you don't deliberately stare at the trees on the side of the road when you walk.

Chen Zhuo sat on the single sofa at the far end, holding half a bag of biscuits given to him by Liu Kai, chewing on them one by one.

Chen Zhuo glanced at the departing figures, then looked at Wang Yang's face, which was filled with envy, jealousy, and hatred.

But he didn't say anything, nor did he go over to offer any comfort.

What did you say?

It's alright, we're strong enough.

That's nonsense.

This inequality in resources is an objective reality.

It's like someone else is wearing 800 yuan worth of Nike Air Max sneakers, while you're wearing 30 yuan worth of Warrior sneakers—that's reality.

Acknowledge the gap, and then use that thirty-dollar Warrior to outrun them—that's the real deal.

"Alright, take the keys and go upstairs!"

After completing the formalities, Old Zhao walked over with a key in his hand.

"Two people per room, divide them up yourselves, quickly put your things down, wash your faces, meet downstairs at 4:30 to go to the test center to familiarize yourselves with the location."