My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 49 Quiet Silence

The King Long bus traveled on the highway for more than four hours.

The carriage was filled with a persistent smell of diesel fuel, mixed with the stale cold air from the vehicle's air conditioner.

The extreme excitement and intense mental exertion of the previous two days, coupled with the ordeal of receiving the award, had completely drained the energy of these teenagers.

Wang Yang leaned against the car window.

As the car bumped along, his head kept hitting the glass, his mouth slightly open, and he was fast asleep.

She was still clutching the backpack containing the certificates tightly in her arms.

Zhao Chen, sitting in the back row, was snoring loudly with his head tilted back, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and soaking his school uniform collar.

Two girls leaned against each other, covered with a coat, their eyes closed.

Chen Zhuo sat in the third-to-last row, near the aisle.

He wasn't asleep.

I simply closed my eyes, leaned back in the wide chair, and listened to the clanging sound of the tires rolling over speed bumps.

The bus exited the highway toll station.

It was already dark outside, and the streetlights were turning on one by one, their dim yellow light flashing through the car windows and quickly passing through the carriage.

The car did not head towards the No. 1 Middle School.

Old Zhao stood up from the first row of seats, walked to the driver's seat, pointed to the intersection ahead, and said something to the driver.

The bus turned on its turn signal and turned into a relatively narrow street.

"Hiss~"

The pneumatic door opens.

Old Zhao walked to the back row and patted Liu Kai on the shoulder.

"Wake up, grab your bag."

Liu Kai suddenly woke up, wiped his mouth haphazardly, and looked at Lao Zhao with a confused expression.

"Huh? We've arrived?"

"We've arrived at Jianshe Road. Get off here and walk back by yourself."

Old Zhao didn't speak loudly, afraid of waking others.

Liu Kai picked up his travel bag and staggered to the car door.

The door opened.

"Go back and take a shower. The principal has approved three days off. You can go back to school on Thursday morning."

Old Zhao gave a brief explanation.

"Oh... okay, goodbye Teacher Zhao and Teacher Zhou."

Liu Kai went downstairs with his bag on his back.

A gust of evening wind made him shiver, and he waved to the car from under the streetlight.

The car door closed, and the car continued driving forward.

The next intersection.

"Wang Yang, wake up. We're getting off the bus."

The next intersection.

"Nan Xiaoyun, make sure you have your water bottle. Don't leave it on the bus. You have three days off. Go back to school on Thursday."

The bus kept stopping and starting.

Wang Yang got off the bus.

Li Hao and Zhang Wei got off the bus.

Nan Xiaoyun and Lin Xiao also got off the bus together.

The carriage was empty.

The bus finally stopped at the intersection of an old residential compound.

There was a large locust tree by the roadside, and under the tree was a cart selling roasted sweet potatoes, with dark red charcoal glowing from the stove.

Chen Zhuo opened his eyes and picked up the schoolbag that was placed at his feet.

He walked to the car door.

Old Zhao sat in his seat, looking at him.

Old Zhao, who usually maintains a teacher-like demeanor, looked very relaxed at this moment.

The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothed out.

"We're home," Old Zhao said.

Chen Zhuo nodded.

"Go back and get a good night's sleep, don't think about anything."

Old Zhao looked at him and paused for a moment.

"The principal approved a three-day leave. Classes will start on Thursday morning."

There was no commendation.

There were no lengthy praises either.

It's just the most ordinary explanation.

"understood."

Chen Zhuo replied.

Goodbye, Teacher Zhao; goodbye, Teacher Zhou.

The car door opened with a hiss.

Chen Zhuo walked down the steps.

My feet were on the cement road surface, which was scorching hot from the sun.

A gust of wind blew by, and a few leaves fell from the old locust tree at the entrance of the alley.

The bus emitted a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe, restarted, and slowly drove away.

Chen Zhuo stood on the curb and glanced at the roasted sweet potato stall.

The old man pushing the cart was using tongs to turn over the sweet potatoes in the stove, and the sweet, burnt smell wafted over.

He looked away, put his hands in his school uniform pockets, and slowly walked into the iron gate of the residential compound, following the shadow under the locust tree.

The streetlights cast a long shadow over him.

It was very quiet around, with the occasional sound of bicycle bells coming from afar.

......

No. 1 Middle School of the city.

The campus was quiet.

The day students have already finished school; only a few ninth-grade classrooms still have their lights on, where boarding students are studying in the evening.

The light in the principal's office was on.

Principal Zhang stood behind his desk.

He held half a cigarette between his fingers, the ash clinging to it for a long time, teetering precariously.

On the desk was a white porcelain teacup, the water inside had cooled down, and the tea leaves had sunk to the bottom.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

It's a bit heavy and a bit sluggish.

"Knock knock".

Two knocks on the door.

"Enter."

The door was pushed open.

Old Zhao and Old Zhou walked in.

The two people's clothes looked a bit wrinkled, their trouser legs were covered in dust, and their hair was messed up by the car's air conditioning.

There was a strong smell of smoke in the room.

Principal Zhang stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

No one speaks.

Old Zhao walked up to the large, dark-colored solid wood desk.

He placed the worn-out black briefcase, which he had been tucking under his arm, on the table.

The sound of the zipper being pulled open was somewhat jarring in the quiet office.

Old Zhao reached his hand into his bag.

Produce a summary letter of academic results bearing the red seal of the Provincial Education Commission.

Place it flat on the table.

The name of No. 1 Middle School is listed first on the official document.

Physical and mathematical.

First prize, second prize, third prize.

There was no sound of speaking, only the slight rustling of the two official letters against the table.

Principal Zhang's gaze fell on the two thin, red-headed documents.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He had already received a call from Lao Zhao and learned about his results.

But he stayed in that office, waiting to see these things with his own eyes.

Old Zhao reached his hand into the innermost pocket of his briefcase again.

He took out two pieces of paper.

Very thin paper.

Notice on the Training Camp for the Provincial Teams of the 2002 National Junior High School Applied Physics Knowledge Competition (Finals).

Notice on the Training Camp for the Provincial Teams of the 2002 National Junior High School Mathematics League (Finals).

Two notices.

The same name was written at the top of each document.

Chen Zhuo.

It was followed by a line of smaller print.

(First year of junior high school at the city's No. 1 Middle School. Perfect score in two subjects, ranked first in the province.)

In the lower right corner, there is a bright red steel stamp from the Provincial Education Commission and the Provincial Competition Committee.

Old Zhao gently placed the two pieces of paper in the very center of the two red documents.

Old Zhao took half a step back.

Principal Zhang lowered his head.

He looked at the two official documents.

The only sound in the office was the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock.

The long piece of cigarette ash finally broke.

It fell onto the deep red tabletop and scattered into a small clump of grayish-white powder.

Principal Zhang did not brush off the cigarette ash.

He extended his right hand.

The index finger is slightly bent.

The fingertip landed on the red stamp in the lower right corner of the paper.

I gently stroked it.

The texture of the paper and the slight embossing of the ink travel along my fingertips.

it is true.

It's not a dream.

Principal Zhang withdrew his hand.

He pressed the remaining cigarette butts into the ashtray.

He crushed it with force.

He turned around, took out a tin tea canister from the cabinet behind him, grabbed a pinch of tea leaves and threw them into the cooled teacup, then picked up the thermos next to him and poured water.

The heat rose up.

"You've worked hard these past few days."

Principal Zhang's voice was hoarse from smoking too much.

"Have all the children been sent back?"

"It's been sent home."

Old Zhao answered.

"The ride was too bumpy, and the child slept the whole way. I told him to go back and continue sleeping."

"it is good."

Principal Zhang nodded.

"He should go to sleep. No one is allowed to disturb him for the next three days, not even the homeroom teacher."

Principal Zhang turned around.

I walked to the window.