A week flashed by. Overseas conflicts raged on, yet domestically, no negative news surfaced—suddenly, the country felt like a utopia.

After a week of classes, homeroom teacher Dan handed out a pop quiz. It compiled frequently missed questions from the monthly exam and key summaries of recent lessons.

Students rarely took such quizzes seriously. Only exams like the monthly test truly mattered. For these minor assessments, some scribbled half-hearted answers before turning them in. During the test, chatting and sharing answers openly was commonplace.

After all, it was just a small drill—a chance to patch knowledge gaps. Top students never cheated on these; they used them to spot weaknesses.

Of course, Ye Wen didn’t need to test herself. The material was far too simple. She finished the quiz swiftly—no essay section meant she wrapped up halfway through class.

As the last period of the day, energy was low. Students chatted while half-heartedly filling answers. Boys in the back either read comics, dozed off, or debated which internet café to hit after school and who’d snag the seats…

Qiu Yi had held firm for a whole week. Today, he didn’t cheat either. He completed the entire quiz earnestly, finishing only minutes slower than the effortlessly efficient Ye Wen.

This surprised Ye Wen. *Did he actually study at home?* Still, Qiu Yi had natural talent for literature—he could probably ace it just by paying attention in class. She stole a glance at his paper. His accuracy was decent.

Ye Wen pondered deeper. Lately, Qiu Yi had been hitting internet cafés daily with the boys. No way he was reviewing lessons after school. *I know myself best—no one gets home before eight. My parents don’t even arrive till 8:30.* After dinner and showers, bedtime loomed. Zero time for studying. And Qiu Yi? He’d never waste free time on books… She recalled her own senior year, forced to trade rest for study sessions. Even then, she rarely lasted past nine. Sleep always beat textbooks—a truly grim era. Yet that year’s grind had skyrocketed her grades, landing her a top-tier university spot.

*Funny how the smartest kids often underperform. The slow ones grind hard; the quick ones grasp things in a glance…*

Ye Wen glanced ahead. Jin Jing and Lu Yu were still scribbling furiously. Lu Yu had decent literary instincts, but Jin Jing paused long before answering each question, stopping and starting. She’d barely finish by the bell.

Bored in class, Ye Wen had taken to playfully tugging Jin Jing’s single ponytail. Jin Jing had grown used to it. Being girls, she felt no annoyance—just amusement that someone so brilliant could be so adorably childish.

Ms. Dan graded another class’s papers, rarely looking up. Chatter in the room swelled…

“Quiet down,” Ms. Dan called, lifting her head with a playful smirk. “Cheating’s one thing, but don’t be *obvious* about it.”

Students chuckled, dialing back the noise. Their homeroom teacher had spoken—they owed her that respect. Ms. Dan was well-liked.

“Ye Wen,” she asked, spotting Ye Wen fiddling with Jin Jing’s hair, “finished your quiz?”

“Mhm.”

“All done? Quick as ever.” Ms. Dan looked up. “Hand it over. Let me see.”

“Okay.” Ye Wen walked up and passed her the paper.

Noticing Qiu Yi staring at the ceiling—apparently finished too—Ms. Dan added, “Qiu Yi, done as well?”

He nodded.

“Bring yours up too.” She teased, “You two didn’t copy off each other, did you? Let me guess—you copied from Ye Wen?”

“Teacher! You doubt me?” Qiu Yi hammed it up, hand on heart. “Seriously! Trust me!”

Ms. Dan snorted. “Let’s see if your answers match hers.”

She graded both papers.

“Ye Wen… full marks.” Ms. Dan announced.

“Wow—” A chorus of impressed murmurs rose. Many questions had appeared on the monthly exam, and some were reviewed just yesterday. Still, a perfect score was enviable. Even with full mastery, careless mistakes could cost points.

“Qiu Yi… full marks.”

“Whoa!” If Ye Wen’s score had drawn a drawn-out “*of course*,” this was pure shock.

“Qiu Yi got full marks? He *definitely* cheated!” Luo Liangjian declared, mock-outraged. Everyone knew he was joking.

“Cheated or not,” Ms. Dan said, patting Luo Liangjian’s head—he sat near her desk—“most answers aren’t copied. But I trust my class rep.” She winked. “Chubby, I bet *you’d* mess up even if I let you cheat.”

“Hah!” The class roared.

Luo Liangjian flushed. “That was a one-time accident!”

Once, he’d copied a classmate’s homework quiz so carelessly he’d copied the *name* at the top. He’d swapped answers between questions 2 and 3, and for question 5—a short essay—he’d just written “C”…

The most disastrous cheat in school history. Ms. Dan hadn’t punished him or Ye Wen (who’d lent the paper). She just ribbed him endlessly about “double-checking answers next time.”

“Ye Wen, Qiu Yi, come help me grade these—” Ms. Dan began. The dismissal bell cut her off. Before she could say “class dismissed,” two boys shot out the back door like arrows. Ms. Dan didn’t even notice they’d vanished.

They were Class 3’s “computer-grabbing squad.” Unlicensed internet cafés were scarce, but demand was fierce—not just from Wenlan Academy, but rival schools too. Arrive late, and no machines remained. These two raced ahead to reserve spots. Everyone chipped in cash; the duo paid the café owner upfront to boot up machines. Paid was paid—whether anyone showed up was the owner’s problem.

“Free after school?” Ms. Dan asked Ye Wen and Qiu Yi. “Help me grade these in my office?”

They nodded, packed their bags, and followed her out.

…