At the end of the school day, Zhou Rui had successfully recalled the names of most of his classmates and teachers, gradually dissolving the sense of alienation brought by his "rebirth." He was rediscovering his place in this era—a high school student named Zhou Rui.
More importantly, he had gained significant progress in his [Entry] system.
Task Entry: Concentration - Experience value +1, Current progress (17/100)
Quest Entry: Self-Disciplined - Experience value +1, Current progress (10/100)
Quest Entry: Inspiration - Experience value +1, Current progress (5/100)
The experience points were tracking close to his predictions. If things continued smoothly, Zhou Rui expected to unlock the [Concentration] entry within a week. The [Self-Disciplined] entry—key to synthesizing [Academic Master]—would take more than ten days.
The progress was encouraging! The future looked promising!
Zhou Rui stretched and glanced at the large countdown on the back blackboard:
"The final battle of the college entrance examination: 49 days remaining."
The sunset bathed the entire campus in a warm orange hue. First and second-year high school students left in small groups, their carefree chatter filling the air. In contrast, third-year students faced another two hours of self-study. Subject teachers would occasionally visit classrooms to answer questions, further burdening their weary minds.
Zhou Rui reflected on his past life's complaints about teachers overextending their classes or even hijacking physical education periods. Back then, he'd often curse them behind their backs. But with the perspective of adulthood, he now understood: weren't these teachers just workers voluntarily doing overtime?
This was a stark contrast to the second-rate university Zhou Rui had attended in his previous life, where professors were often preoccupied with papers, titles, or external business ventures, leaving teaching and students as mere afterthoughts.
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Tonight's self-study session was led by the English teacher. For Zhou Rui, English was the least stressful subject. Although he only managed to scrape through with a Level 4 certificate and a bachelor's degree in his previous life, years of dealing with foreign clients had left him proficient in listening and speaking. His reading and writing, however, still needed polishing—something to work on now.
After two hours, Zhou Rui had gained 2 points in the [Concentration] task and 1 point in [Self-Discipline]. Though tired, he was satisfied. The progress, while modest, exceeded his expectations for the first day.
The streetlights outside flickered on as darkness blanketed the small town. Finally, the senior high school students were free to leave. Some hurried home, others flocked to internet cafés, while boarding students lingered briefly at nearby food stalls before heading back for their evening self-study.
Near the school gate, Zhou Rui spotted Li Wenqian, head bowed as she fiddled with her Nokia phone.
The school day ended late, and the town's safety wasn't as reliable as that of a big city. At her mother's insistence, Zhou Rui had taken on the responsibility of walking Li Wenqian home every evening.
Looking at the outdated Nokia in her hands, Zhou Rui felt a pang of nostalgia—though also a twinge of self-pity for his current phone-less state.
He once owned an old, hand-me-down phone from his mother. While it wasn't much, it worked for sending texts and playing 3D Snake. But in a sudden burst of misguided motivation during the college entrance exam's 100-day oath-taking ceremony, he'd handed it over to his mother, declaring he didn't need a phone to avoid distractions.
His mother, touched, promptly sold the phone to prevent Zhou Rui from changing his mind.
Now, with no money and no way to ask his family for another phone, Zhou Rui was stuck.
"Come on, little sister, your big brother will escort you home!" Zhou Rui grinned as he "ruffled" Li Wenqian's mushroom-shaped hair, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Li Wenqian clutched her bag, falling in step behind Zhou Rui. Without looking up, she said, "Zhou Rui! Did you hear? Asan passed away!"
Zhou Rui blinked, momentarily puzzled.
"You know, Asan! The one who sang the Chinese Paladin theme song. What a shame—she had such a beautiful voice."
Seeing the genuine sadness on her face, Zhou Rui softened.
"Do you like singing?" he asked.
Startled, Li Wenqian looked up, confused by the sudden change in topic. "Not really. I just hum along when I listen to songs."
Zhou Rui thought about her life trajectory before his rebirth. This seemingly quiet girl had a hidden talent that would only emerge during her university years in Beijing.
Though she hadn't received any formal music training and had never even been to a karaoke bar, her natural talent was undeniable. Zhou Rui could still remember the year she'd reluctantly participated in her university's "Top Ten Campus Singers" competition. Dragged into it by her friends, Li Wenqian ended up winning first place effortlessly.
Later, at her university's anniversary celebration, she performed again and left the entire campus in awe.
She was spotted by Beijing TV Station that day.
The fateful day Beijing TV Station came to film, Li Wenqian's journey to stardom began.
At first, an older producer from the station, seeing her natural charm and excellent voice, convinced her to appear on a few singing programs. Though these shows had low ratings and obscure guests whose names no one remembered, they were revived by Li Wenqian's performances. Her presence, talent, and charisma shone through. From that moment, her path to stardom became unstoppable.
By the time she graduated, she was already famous, lovingly dubbed the "Peking University Goddess" by netizens for her beauty, intelligence, and exceptional talent.
In his previous life, Zhou Rui had been a junior in college when Li Wenqian's career skyrocketed. While he struggled as an ordinary student, she seemed destined for greatness. His growing sense of inferiority eventually led him to distance himself from her. They gradually faded from each other's lives.
Now, Zhou Rui found himself lost in these memories.
Meanwhile, Li Wenqian, walking just half a step behind him, had no idea he was replaying her trajectory in his mind with a mix of nostalgia and regret. She only felt an inexplicable sense of security being near Zhou Rui.
It was like any other day—but somehow, he seemed more dependable.
Trailing slightly behind, she noticed how their shadows stretched long beneath the streetlights, merging as they walked together.
For reasons she couldn't explain, a tiny burst of happiness flickered within her.
Moments like these never seemed to last long enough.
Li Wenqian tugged at Zhou Rui's shirt, handing him a small hand hidden beneath her school uniform. "Want to listen to some music? Asan's Always So Quiet?"
Zhou Rui accepted the headphones from her delicate hand. As the gentle melody began to play, the dim streetlights seemed to synchronize with the mood of the song.
"The empty streets make me want to find someone to vent my feelings~"
Without any conscious effort, Zhou Rui's [Absolute Musical Sense] activated.
The song, already beautiful, unraveled in his mind like a masterpiece. He effortlessly broke it down into chords, rhythms, and layers of melody. It was as though the entire essence of the song came alive, opening up before him.
It was a remarkable piece. The melody was captivating, the arrangement and lyrics perfectly intertwined, and the vocal delivery seamless.
Zhou Rui marveled at the artistry. This era of music emphasized melody, lyrics, and raw emotion. Songs weren't overly produced or cluttered with electronic beats. Instead, they resonated deeply, a reflection of the more sincere approach to music creation at the time.
He sighed inwardly, not out of nostalgia but from recognition. The music industry back then genuinely valued talent. The singers who rose to fame during this period were either exceptional vocalists or true singer-songwriters. Those without such talent never stood a chance.
More than a decade later, Zhou Rui thought, the industry had changed. Celebrity income had skyrocketed, but the standard of talent had plummeted. Mediocre singers, claiming to be "original geniuses," were celebrated despite their obvious limitations. It was no longer about the music but about popularity, gimmicks, and capital-driven talent shows.
As someone reborn, Zhou Rui had a mental archive of high-quality songs from the future. If he wanted to leverage this treasure trove, he'd need to act quickly. The further time marched forward, the less power pure music would hold in shaping careers.
He glanced at Li Wenqian, her expression serene as she listened alongside him. She could be key to his plans. With her talent and presence, she could bring these songs to life—whether as his collaborator or as a rising star in her own right.
But this wasn't the time.
They were on the brink of the college entrance examination. Even if Li Wenqian was willing, her mother would never allow such a distraction. Zhou Rui sighed. Careful planning would be essential.
Li Wenqian's grades were exceptional. She was consistently among the top three in her class, and all her teachers believed she had a strong shot at being admitted to one of the nation's top universities. Zhou Rui knew they were right. In his past life, this was precisely what happened, and it had marked the beginning of their growing distance.
What puzzled Zhou Rui was her apparent lack of effort. Despite her consistent academic success, she often seemed laid-back. Mornings would find her casually asking him to copy her homework.
It was as if life had handed her two bowls—one filled with music, the other with academics—and she could effortlessly juggle them both without spilling a drop.
The music continued to play on a loop, neither of them growing tired of it. The shared headphones tethered them together.
Zhou Rui was lost in thoughts of his past life, while Li Wenqian silently contemplated Zhou Rui's presence.
From time to time, she walked so closely that her arm brushed against his, making her face flush. Thankfully, the dim lighting concealed her embarrassment.
They passed a barber shop, a video rental store, a Sichuan stir-fry restaurant, and finally, the Ping Ping Fruit and Vegetable Shop before reaching the entrance of a residential area. Zhou Rui stopped and turned to Li Wenqian.
"Go on home and say hi to your mom for me."
Li Wenqian nodded as she retrieved her headphones. She hesitated for a moment, looking like she wanted to say something but didn't dare.
"What's wrong?" Zhou Rui asked.
She shook her head at first but eventually mumbled, "You seem different today."
Zhou Rui raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"I don't know… You just feel better."
As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks turned red. Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and trotted away, her bag bouncing behind her.
Zhou Rui stood there, watching her retreating figure, slightly dazed.
This sensitive girl was bound to notice something different. After all, her older "brother" was back now, and everything would be better.