Chapter 2: A Youth Misspent Without Pretense

"System, how do I use the external assistance feature?" Zhang Chu communicated with the Savior System in his mind. Others might use such a system to save the world, yet here he was, employing it merely to salvage his disastrous college entrance exam—a rather extravagant misuse of resources, it seemed.

The electronic voice of the Savior System quickly echoed in his mind, "External assistance allows the host to solicit help from people outside through the system, by any means necessary. Each minute costs one point of reputation value. Please use it with caution. The first use is free for sixty minutes. Would you like to activate it now?"

"No, no, no!" The exam papers hadn't even been handed out yet. The best time to use it would be after seeing the types of questions.

His reputation value was currently zero. He needed to make the most of that free sixty minutes.

"Then how do I earn reputation points?"

"As long as someone knows you—whether it's in a positive or negative light—you gain reputation." The system answered his query with utmost diligence, aware that this pseudo-exam candidate sitting in the exam hall was pinning all his hopes on it.

There was still some time before the exam began. The invigilators were just opening the test papers and hadn't started distributing them, let alone begun the exam.

Suddenly, Zhang Chu remembered that he still had an unused lottery draw in the system. Now was the perfect time to try his luck—perhaps he might get something useful for the exam.

"System, start the lottery!"

At his command, a dazzling virtual roulette appeared before his eyes, crammed with all sorts of items that made Zhang Chu's head spin.

"Infinite-ink Parker pen? Unbreakable mechanical keyboard? Basic mastery of drawing? Basic mastery of calligraphy? 'Spring River in the Moonlight' traditional painting? Basic hypnosis? Basic Tai Chi? Memory bread? Translation gum? Invisible cloak? Running specialization? What are all these things..."

He wanted to complain; not many of these seemed useful to him. It all depended on luck.

"Would you like to spin the wheel now? The host can operate the button on the roulette with a thought."

"This is the moment of truth—am I favored by luck or doomed to bad fortune? In World of Warcraft, I was always lucky with loot drops. I hope I get something practical this time!"

He didn't want a mechanical keyboard or a pen, nor was he interested in Tai Chi—those were all replaceable. After a brief prayer, he pressed the draw button with a flutter of excitement.

Instantly, the wheel began spinning, faster and faster, until the labels on it blurred into an indistinguishable whirl.

With a dramatic sound effect, the wheel vanished and a golden chest appeared before Zhang Chu.

"I wonder what I've won. To be honest, this system is a bit unreliable—why did the lottery turn into opening a treasure chest?"

Though he grumbled inwardly, his hands moved quickly. After all, the invigilators had started distributing the test papers and answer sheets one by one.

A blinding light flashed, accompanied by an exhilarating background score thoughtfully provided by the system. Inside the chest lay a thread-bound book, emblazoned with the words: Basic Mastery of Calligraphy.

"Phew, looks like my luck isn't too bad."

Basic mastery of calligraphy would indeed be useful. Zhang Chu hadn't written by hand in ages—his handwriting probably looked like chicken scratches. During exams, neat and elegant handwriting could improve the graders' impressions, especially in subjects like Chinese, where good calligraphy could earn extra points.

As soon as Zhang Chu took hold of the thread-bound book, it vanished from sight, replaced by the distilled techniques of master calligraphers flooding his mind. He felt as if he could wield a brush with effortless grace.

Once he received the test paper, he couldn't wait to sign his name in bold, flowing characters with his black pen. It looked splendid.

Since the exam hadn't begun yet, he considered testing out how to earn reputation points. He raised his hand.

The two invigilators stood at the front and back. The middle-aged female teacher at the front noticed Zhang Chu's raised hand and called out, "Do you have a question?"

"Teacher, I'd like to ask: When is the earliest we can hand in our papers and leave? These questions seem so easy—two and a half hours is far too much time!"

The moment he finished speaking, the other twenty-nine candidates in the room all stared at him in shock.

Was this guy for real or just showing off?

"He must be joking. Just trying to mess with my focus—how wicked!"

"Who does he think he is? He was just napping on his desk a moment ago. Must be one of those who don't care about the exam."

"Is it really that easy? Why can't I even answer the first question?"

"Damn, give this poser a zero."

"Showing off in the college entrance exam? That's wild."

The mood among the candidates was tense—a mixture of contempt and anxiety.

The invigilator rapped the podium and said loudly, "Quiet, everyone. According to exam regulations, you may submit your paper and leave in the last thirty minutes of the exam. If you wish to hand it in earlier, a staff member will accompany you to the waiting room, and you can only leave at the designated time."

Satisfied with this answer, Zhang Chu nodded. That casual display of bravado had earned him twenty-one reputation points. It seemed the effect was quite good!

What is youth without a little swagger?

After all, including himself, there were only thirty-two people in this classroom, and many candidates were unfazed.

"Only twenty-one reputation points—not nearly enough. I need to earn more before the afternoon exam," Zhang Chu thought, already forming a plan.

As everyone focused intently, the broadcast at the front of the classroom sounded again, "Candidates, you may begin."

The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to the test papers, oblivious to each other.

Zhang Chu quietly activated the system's external assistance and began searching for answers with Baidu. Asking people for answers was far too slow—searching online was fastest.

The first section, language usage, was a breeze; the exact questions were online, and he secured those fifteen points effortlessly.

The classical Chinese reading section lacked the original questions, but Baidu provided a translation of the passage, making it easy to deduce the answers.

Poetry appreciation? No problem.

Famous quotes and excerpts? Those were free points.

Modern prose reading? Time to improvise a little. Even the original author probably didn't know what that dead fish's "eyes still glinting with a strange light" really meant.

Line after line, Zhang Chu wrote his answers on the answer sheet. His strokes were swift and fluid, each mark powerful and assured.

At this moment, Zhang Chu felt as if, with Baidu in hand, the world was his for the taking.