The bell hadn't rung yet, but Class 2–3 was already loud enough to sound like a marketplace.
Laughter spilled from the back row, where Wang Zixuan sat like he owned the place — one arm hanging lazily over the back of his chair, posture all ease and arrogance.
To his right, Luo Minghao—dyed chestnut hair, silver chain on his wrist—flipped through a comic book he clearly wasn't supposed to have.
To his left, Chen Rui, broad-shouldered and forever dribbling a basketball under the desk, leaned in.
"Did you even bother to bring a pen?" Luo Minghao teased with a grin.
"Why? You planning to borrow mine?" Zixuan replied, voice lazy as if the test was beneath him.
Chen Rui snorted. "Doesn't matter. I'll just copy off you anyway."
Zixuan spun his pen once, then let it drop with a sharp click. "Try me."
Near the windows, three girls huddled behind open textbooks that had more hearts doodled in the margins than actual notes.
"He hasn't even cracked a book," one whispered, glancing at Zixuan.
"Because he's got brains to burn," another sighed dreamily. "And honestly, who'd waste time stressing when you look like that?"
The third giggled softly. "If he actually tried? Nobody here would stand a chance."
The classroom door slid open, and the hum of chatter dropped a notch. Mr. Han, their homeroom teacher, strode in with a thick stack of papers under one arm. He dropped them onto the front desk—the sound like a judge's gavel.
"Quiet down. Today's class test will count toward your monthly ranking."
The single sentence tightened the air.
Pens were uncapped. Chairs scraped against the floor.
Some students leaned forward, eager and tense, ready to fight for their place on the list.
Others—like Zixuan—barely shifted, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriating, confident way.
Across the room, Su Nian felt the weight of every glance, every unspoken rivalry.
The test was just a piece of paper—but here, it could change everything.
Mr. Han moved down the rows, the stack of papers shrinking with every desk he passed.
The soft thud of test sheets landing on desks made the room feel smaller, as if the air itself was holding its breath.
Su Nian uncapped her pen before her paper even landed.
Her eyes scanned the questions quickly—her stomach twisted with a mix of nerves and determination.
Not impossible, but carefully crafted to trip up anyone who wasn't sharp enough to catch the traps.
Beside her, Jiang Moxi flipped her paper over without hesitation, scanning it in one swift sweep before diving into the first problem.
Her strokes were clean, confident, with no wasted motion or doubt.
"Not in a hurry, huh?" Su Nian muttered quietly.
Jiang Moxi didn't glance up. "It's not rushing when you already know."
From the back row came a faint chuckle, breaking the tension momentarily.
Wang Zixuan skimmed the paper once, twirled his pen twice between his fingers, then began writing with careless ease.
Luo Minghao tilted his head, eyes flicking toward Zixuan's paper with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Without lifting his gaze, Zixuan slid the paper half an inch away, blocking the view.
"Handle your own test," he said lazily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Chen Rui, clearly bored, spun his pen between his fingers, drumming softly on the desk when he thought Mr. Han wasn't looking.
"Quiet," came the teacher's calm but firm warning, without turning around.
By the window, the three girls bent over their papers but continued stealing glances at the back of the room.
One sighed softly. "He's already halfway done…"
The girl beside her whispered back, "I'd fail every subject if it meant sitting next to him."
They giggled quietly, quickly covering it with fake coughs when Mr. Han's gaze swept over them.
Li Wei, the top scorer in the class, shifted slightly in his seat and looked over his shoulder at Zixuan—not with admiration, but with a cold, sharp challenge.
Jiang Moxi noticed. Her pen paused mid-word, and her eyes narrowed just slightly, like she was filing the moment away carefully.
Su Nian forced herself to focus, but Jiang Moxi leaned in and murmured, "He's going to finish before everyone else."
"Who?" Su Nian whispered.
"Wang Zixuan."
Su Nian's grip tightened around her pen.
"So?"
Jiang Moxi smirked faintly. "So… watch what happens after."
Minutes later, the soft click of Zixuan's pen hitting the desk echoed.
He leaned back, arms crossed, staring up at the ceiling like the whole test had been far too easy to bother with.
Su Nian still had two questions left—and the faint creak of Zixuan's chair felt like a deliberate reminder, a silent taunt.
The final seconds ticked down like a countdown to a silent battle.
Pens scratched desperately, erasers whispered, and even the girls by the window stopped glancing at Zixuan to focus entirely on their own papers.
The classroom felt suddenly smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in with the weight of every heartbeat, every anxious breath.
Mr. Han's sharp voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Put down your pens. Time's up."
Zixuan dropped his pen with a casual clatter, stretching as if he had all the time in the world.
His smirk was effortless, like winning a game he barely needed to play.
Luo Minghao nudged him with a knowing smile.
"Beat the clock again, huh?"
Zixuan's grin deepened, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes.
"Always."
Across the room, Su Nian hesitated, fingers hovering over the last question.
Her pen moved slowly, mind caught between hope and doubt.
When she finally looked up, her eyes met Li Wei's cold stare—sharp, unforgiving, like a silent challenge thrown down without a word.
Jiang Moxi was already closing her test paper, calm and collected.
Her eyes met Su Nian's briefly, offering a small, encouraging nod—a quiet promise that she believed in her.
The girls by the window whispered again, voices light but tinged with admiration—and maybe a little envy.
Their quick glances toward Zixuan hadn't stopped, and the atmosphere buzzed with unspoken feelings.
Zixuan stood, stretching leisurely, then walked toward the teacher's desk with the easy swagger of someone who owned the room.
As he passed Su Nian, his eyes flicked to hers, sharp and amused.
"Worried about your score?" he asked, voice low but loud enough for her to hear clearly.
Su Nian's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her gaze steady, refusing to betray the flicker of nerves.
"Just aiming to beat you."
His smirk widened, challenge sparkling in his eyes.
"Good luck."
Behind them, whispers began to rise—some filled with excitement, others with thinly veiled tension.
The test wasn't just about grades anymore; it was about standing ground, about proving who belonged at the top.
Su Nian glanced toward Jiang Moxi, who was already packing her bag, eyes cool and unreadable.
The quiet confidence she carried was a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Su Nian's chest.
Outside the window, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the schoolyard, painting the world in gold and warning.
The test was over—but the real game was just beginning.
And no one knew yet who would come out on top.