Chapter 74: Absolutely Inherited

The hype generated by East Su Television was incredibly attention-grabbing. The top scorers of the college entrance exam were typically a somewhat mysterious group, and the public harbored great curiosity about them. These champions were either exceptionally intelligent or extraordinarily hardworking; most possessed remarkable talent and distinctive personalities. To gather such individuals together for a competitive quiz was sure to satisfy viewers of all stripes, each able to glean what they sought from the spectacle.

This year, each province had two top scorers, but the program did not reveal their identities, nor did it disclose their provinces, cities, or regions. Viewers could only attempt to deduce their origins from snippets and hints. With only twenty-two participants—including previous years’ champions—the range was even broader!

Online, netizens fretted and speculated over the candidates:
“I think liberal arts top scorers must have a broader base of knowledge. At least they cover more ground, like current affairs and politics. Science students rarely pay attention to those topics.”
“Bah! Let a liberal arts student answer circuit questions or tackle chemistry problems, I’d like to see them try!”
“Our province’s champion seems pretty well-rounded; I wonder if they’ll take part.”
“I bet that Zhang Chu from Jiangdong Province will definitely participate. East Su Television’s leaks said one of the champions is a published author. Isn’t Zhang Chu the only one who’s written a book so far?”
“Haha, I’d love to see Zhang Chu dominate the show and spread his ‘poisonous chicken soup’ wisdom.”
“That’s too beautiful a scene for me to even imagine!”
“Does Zhang Chu dare to take on ‘Stand to the End’? I have a hunch he’ll get eliminated right away—my intuition is always spot-on.”
…

Zhang Chu’s microblog was flooded with questions as well. This year’s most high-profile top scorer had to join the show!
“Big shot, if you go film the show, will ‘Psychological Crime’ still be updated?”
“Wow, I’m from South City—I want to cheer for Zhang Chu in person and get his autograph!”
“I’m curious what antics the jokester will pull at the ‘Stand to the End’ set. Whoever’s there, please report back ASAP.”
“You’re definitely among those twenty-two, right?”
“Make us Jiangdong’s millions of candidates proud—don’t lose!”
“Wishing you victory, bring home the trophy, warrior!”

Meanwhile, the “big shot” readers spoke of online was being interrogated by his mother.
“You’re going to participate in ‘Stand to the End’?”
Chu Lan had only learned of it through the internet; otherwise, she’d have been completely in the dark about such a major event.
Zhang Chu nodded repeatedly, replying, “Yes, though I was worried they might be scammers.”
“Hurry up and brush up on some knowledge. As a seasoned viewer, I advise you to go through an encyclopedia, then review recent years’ information on literature, sports, film, and music. Don’t get eliminated in the first or second round, or I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face.”
With that, Chu Lan was about to head downstairs to the bookstore for an encyclopedia. As the saying goes, sharpening your weapons just before battle, even if not perfect, is better than doing nothing.

“Mom, don’t worry. I’m determined to win this championship!” Zhang Chu patted his chest confidently. He hadn’t even appeared on the show yet, but thanks to entertainment news coverage, his popularity had surged by fifty or sixty thousand. Once the show aired and he won over audiences with his performance, wouldn’t his reputation skyrocket to five million in an instant?

Chu Lan was still a bit uneasy, but since her son was a top scorer, she didn’t need to worry about his study habits, so she relaxed. Zhang Chu was now unconcerned with the sales of “Sherlock Holmes” or the online subscriptions to “Psychological Crime”; he was wholly focused on training with his system. He aimed both to broaden his knowledge and to improve his synergy with the system, striving to find answers in the shortest possible time.

After all, “Stand to the End” was timed—one couldn’t ponder forever, but had to answer correctly within a limited window.

…

Before he knew it, Sunday had arrived. Zhang Chu packed his change of clothes and laptop into his backpack, and the whole family set off joyfully for the high-speed rail station.

Their son was about to appear on television; as a father, Zhang Bowen couldn’t contain his pride—his smile never left his face. This was what it meant for luck to turn around. With a successful child, a thriving bookstore, and even a more harmonious marriage—especially with their son soon off to Yanjing for college—Zhang Bowen even found himself humming a tune.

“Son, don’t let it stress you out. Take it easy. No matter how far you get in the competition, it won’t affect your status as a top scorer,” Zhang Bowen reassured him, advice he hadn’t even given during the entrance exam.

Zhang Chu, playing on his phone, looked up in confusion, “Why would I be stressed? It’s the others who should be nervous—when I knock out the other ten in one go, they’ll be the ones embarrassed.”

Chu Lan rolled her eyes. She knew her son’s skin and ego were growing ever thicker—his self-admiration was beyond comparison.

At the rail station, throngs of travelers streamed by. Zhang Bowen and his wife grew anxious, worrying their son might get lost or kidnapped.

“Be careful on the road, stay alert at night, don’t catch a chill. If you have any issues, find a conductor, listen for announcements, and don’t miss your stop by playing on your phone.” Zhang Bowen offered heartfelt reminders, but Zhang Chu was unimpressed. “Dad, it’s just an hour and a half from River City to South City—I won’t need to stay overnight. Besides, this train’s final stop is South City, so I can’t overshoot it. You two go home and wait for good news!”

“Make sure you take care of yourself, and bring me some snacks from Confucius Temple when you return,” Chu Lan was far more relaxed. Her son was old enough to marry—what was there to worry about?

Zhang Chu nodded dutifully. Though Confucius Temple was crowded, he had to fulfill his mother’s request or she’d never let him hear the end of it.

Just then, Zhang Bowen spoke up, “I’ll go buy some oranges. Stay right here—don’t wander.”
“Are there oranges for sale here? Let’s go buy some together,” Chu Lan clearly hadn’t caught Zhang Bowen’s meaning and craned her neck to look around.

Zhang Chu was momentarily stunned. “Dad, can we skip the textbook recitation today? We studied that essay too.”
“Just a spontaneous sentiment, really!” Zhang Bowen chuckled, claiming it was merely a timely remark, and a good chance to test his son’s mastery of knowledge. Yes, that was reason enough—he’d never admit it was pure mischief.

Zhang Chu patted his own head, wondering how he’d never noticed his father’s jokester side in his previous life. Clearly, he was a true offspring—this trait must be hereditary.

Watching his parents walk away, Zhang Chu found a seat, pulled out his phone, and waited for his train.

Sadness? Such a thing simply didn’t exist.