Chapter 92:

Qin Chaoyu stood in the garden of the private estate with the other candidates, waiting, while their accompanying teachers had disappeared somewhere.

This selection process involved a total of 153 participants from 51 different institutions.

It was indeed true that the so-called “chosen ones” were different from ordinary people. The energy and spirit of everyone in the garden were vibrant, as if they always had the stamina to tackle any challenge that came their way. Their eyes were bright and sharp, making one marvel at the sheer vitality of life!

This was undoubtedly a gathering of elites!

In early spring, the temperature in the capital was still slightly low, especially in this private estate situated atop a mountain, where it was even colder. Standing in this lush garden for too long, no matter how beautiful the scenery, was unbearable.

Some fashion-conscious girls, dressed lightly for the sake of appearance, were already shivering from the cold. Qin Chaoyu, however, was fine. Having practiced martial arts since childhood and possessing inner strength, she wouldn’t feel cold even if she wore a skirt in the dead of winter, let alone now.

As the crowd began to grow restless, a middle-aged man in casual clothes, holding a loudspeaker and looking honest and simple, finally appeared. He stood in front of the group, raised the loudspeaker, and shouted, “Students! Students! Quiet down!”

The piercing screech of the loudspeaker assaulted everyone’s eardrums, instantly silencing the murmuring crowd as all eyes turned toward the man.

Satisfied with the result, the man nodded and continued, “I imagine every one of you here is a top student at your respective schools—gifted, talented, admired by peers, favored by teachers, with accolades piling up one after another. The odds are high that your future achievements will far surpass those of your peers.”

At this point, almost everyone’s face involuntarily displayed a mix of pride and self-satisfaction.

The man observed this, then suddenly changed his tone, speaking sharply, “But! Here, those accolades mean nothing! Don’t bring your petty attitudes or temper tantrums here. Anyone who violates the rules will be immediately disqualified!”

His stern words caused some to pale, clearly not expecting the man who had just been praising them to turn so intimidating.

“Starting off with a show of authority—interesting,” Yin Ledan muttered under her breath.

Qin Chaoyu heard Yin Ledan’s comment but didn’t respond, nor did Yin Ledan expect her to.

After delivering his warning, the man resumed a normal tone. “My name is Zong Nanhan. I’m the organizer of this selection.” After this brief introduction, he got straight to the point. “The first round of selection begins now—a written test. Those who did their homework should already know the process and have brought pens. If you didn’t, borrow from someone else. As the name suggests, the written test is an exam. You’ll have one hour to complete the paper.”

Without waiting for a reaction, Zong Nanhan waved his hand and left.

The crowd looked around, expecting staff to guide them to the exam hall, but the garden held no one beyond the candidates.

Now they were at a loss. Without staff to lead them, how were they supposed to take the exam? Were they supposed to find the venue themselves? Was this part of the test?

Fortunately, the organizers weren’t that unreliable. After waiting for another half hour, a staff member finally appeared, leading them through twists and turns into a vast, empty room.

After informing them that this was the exam hall, the staff member promptly left.

Kong Han glanced around the bare room and muttered, “Seriously, is the organizer out of his mind? There’s nothing here—just empty space. Are we supposed to write on our laps when they hand out the papers?”

Qin Chaoyu and Yin Ledan shot him a look, silently confirming that it was indeed a possibility.

Kong Han, seeing their expressions, hesitated. “No… way?”

Yin Ledan rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

Kong Han’s face fell. “This organizer is really something. Does he enjoy tormenting us?”

Just then, three teachers entered the room, carrying stacks of exam papers.

One of them, a stern-looking woman with gold-rimmed glasses, said, “Please line up neatly, however you like, as long as the spacing between each person is equal.”

The 153 candidates immediately sprang into action. At first, chaos ensued due to the lack of organization, but soon a young man stepped forward to direct everyone. He seemed accustomed to leadership, and his reputation among the group must have been considerable, as everyone readily followed his instructions.

Throughout this, the three teachers remained silent observers, not interfering even when the initial chaos resembled a boiling pot.

Once the lines were formed, the young man addressed the female teacher, “We’re ready. Please distribute the papers.” Then he returned to his spot.

Seeing his demeanor, Kong Han sneered and whispered to Qin Chaoyu, “Hmph, what’s so great about him? Just a peacock, always flaunting himself. Doesn’t he know that when a peacock spreads its tail, it exposes its bare behind?”

Qin Chaoyu gave him a helpless look. If not for the envy in his eyes, she might have believed he truly thought nothing of the young man.

The three teachers split the exam papers, and the other two began distributing them while the female teacher remained in place. “Let me explain the exam rules. You have one hour. There will be no proctors, no surveillance—everything relies on your integrity. Once finished, place your papers on the single table in the room and exit. At the designated time, a teacher will collect them.”

She emphasized, “Strictly adhere to exam discipline!”

Then, like the organizer, she turned and left with the other two teachers.

Though this exam format was surprising, every person present had their own pride. Even without supervision, their self-respect wouldn’t allow them to violate the rules.

As soon as the teachers left, everyone either sat on the floor or stood straight, writing directly on their papers.

Each found their most comfortable position and began answering.

Qin Chaoyu sat cross-legged, flipping through the exam. The questions weren’t difficult—mostly foundational. With solid fundamentals, a perfect score was achievable.

But this also suggested that the written test wasn’t assessing knowledge breadth.

What was it testing, then?

Qin Chaoyu stopped overthinking and focused on answering.

The questions were so easy she barely needed to think, scribbling answers rapidly. She finished the entire paper in about twenty minutes.

Looking up, she saw everyone else still working diligently. She stood, brushed the dust off her pants, placed her paper on the table, and walked out.

The room was stunned. No one had expected someone to finish so quickly. Though the questions were unexpectedly simple, the volume was substantial—most would need at least half an hour. How had she done it in twenty minutes?

The young man who had organized the lines glanced up in surprise but quickly resumed writing.

Given the simplicity, no one suspected her of guessing—only that her foundational knowledge was exceptionally strong.

Some couldn’t help but think sourly: *So what if you’re fast at basics? The selection isn’t just about that.*

Outside, Qin Chaoyu found a spot to sit and waited for Yin Ledan and Kong Han. This wasn’t her home, and despite her good memory, she couldn’t wander freely. Moreover, she sensed this selection was unusual—the criteria were unclear, and she had to avoid anything that might jeopardize her chances.

About twenty minutes later, Kong Han and Yin Ledan emerged.

They immediately headed toward Qin Chaoyu.

Kong Han exclaimed excitedly, “Chaoyu, you’re amazing! You finished the whole paper in such a short time. Did you see everyone’s faces when you handed it in? Priceless! And—”

Once Kong Han started rambling, it was like eight ducks quacking nonstop. Qin Chaoyu, with her strong composure, simply closed her eyes and meditated, tuning him out. Thankfully, her patience was solid—otherwise, she might have been tempted to shut him up.

Suddenly, his voice cut off. Qin Chaoyu opened her eyes curiously and saw Kong Han glaring angrily behind her.

She turned and spotted the young man who had organized the lines, now speaking to someone with his back turned.

Puzzled, Qin Chaoyu looked back at Yin Ledan for an explanation.

Yin Ledan, having wisely put on headphones earlier to avoid Kong Han’s chatter, removed them upon seeing Qin Chaoyu’s questioning gaze. Following Kong Han’s line of sight, she sighed. “You’ll get used to it, junior. You’ll probably see Kong Han like this a lot in the coming days.”

She then explained, “That guy is from Huajing University of Traditional Chinese Medicine, named Xing Weiyue. He’s supposedly a rare genius in TCM—though I haven’t interacted much with him, the rumors are likely true. They say he could recite medical verses at three, mastered *Compendium of Materia Medica* by five, and memorized the four great TCM classics by thirteen. At sixteen, he entered Huajing University, excelled, and often represented the school in seminars and exchanges. He’s even participated in an international ‘exchange.’ Now, at twenty-seven, he’s nearing his Ph.D. and has already made a name in TCM circles. But that’s not the key point—the key is his looks, which inspire envy in men and admiration in women. With sharp brows, bright eyes, and a refined demeanor, he’s the epitome of a gentleman.”

“As for Kong Han’s grudge against him… well, envy is the root of all evil.”

Qin Chaoyu silently processed the information, sensing that this young man would be a formidable rival in the selection.

“Bullshit! I’m not jealous of him!” Kong Han snapped back to reality upon hearing Yin Ledan’s last remark. “It’s him who—mmph!”

“Shh!” Yin Ledan clamped a hand over his mouth, then apologized to the startled onlookers. “He’s having an episode. Don’t mind him.”

Once the crowd turned away, she released him. “Are you insane? Why shout like that?”

Kong Han wiped his mouth indignantly. “Who said I was jealous of him? Why would I be? I’m not crazy enough to envy a peacock who loves flaunting himself!”

Yin Ledan rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure. How could a young master like you possibly envy a nobody? Even if this ‘nobody’ is a bit handsome, talented, and famous, he’s nowhere near your radiant brilliance. Standing next to you, we’re practically blinded by your halo.”

Though her words sounded like praise, Kong Han’s gut told him it was sarcasm. His face flushed, but he couldn’t think of a retort, his eyes reddening in frustration.

Kong Han wasn’t unattractive—his fair skin, baby face, delicate features, and slight chubbiness made him look even younger than Qin Chaoyu. Now, with reddened eyes and puffed cheeks, he looked downright pitiable.

Yin Ledan hadn’t expected her words to affect him so much. Flustered, she quickly soothed him. “Alright, alright, I was wrong, okay? I apologize. Don’t cry!”

Kong Han wasn’t actually crying—he prided himself on being a man who wouldn’t resort to tears. His eyes just reddened easily when emotional.

But Kong Han was quick to forgive. With Yin Ledan’s apology, he lifted his chin haughtily. “Fine, I’ll accept your apology. But let me reiterate—I’m not jealous of that peacock!”

“Is this what the candidates from Yuzhou University are like?” A mocking voice cut in. “How disappointing!”

Someone was provoking them? Unacceptable!

Kong Han whirled toward the speaker—Xing Weiyue and his two companions had appeared beside them unnoticed. How long had they been standing there? Had they overheard?

The thought of his earlier insults—no, *facts*—being heard by the subject made even the boldest feel a twinge of guilt.

But Kong Han’s guilt lasted all of three seconds before he remembered their taunt. He glared at the boy on Xing Weiyue’s left—the one who had spoken—and retorted with a dismissive tilt of his chin, “Fu Hu, are you bored? Always picking fights like some rooster, strutting around thinking you’re a warrior when you’re just a clown. We ignore you for amusement, but that doesn’t mean you can cross species lines to provoke us.”

Qin Chaoyu twitched the corner of her mouth, unable to help but admire Kong Han’s fully maxed-out taunting skills. She noticed that Kong Han particularly enjoyed comparing people he disliked to animals—peacocks, fighting roosters—basically, in his eyes, none of them were human.

Yin Ledan coldly added fuel to the fire from the side: “Oh, Kong Han, why insult the poor fighting rooster? It lives an honest and upright life, just a bit aggressive. Is it really necessary to drag its name through the mud like this?”

Kong Han promptly tapped his own lips lightly and admitted his mistake: “Yes, yes, I was wrong. I apologize to the fighting rooster—I’ve tarnished its reputation. My bad!”

The back-and-forth between Yin Ledan and Kong Han made the boy named Fu Hu so furious that veins bulged on his forehead. Qin Chaoyu was genuinely worried they might provoke him into a stroke.

Just as Fu Hu was about to lose control and lunge forward, Xing Weiyue stepped in first, grabbing his arm. “You provoked them first. You’re in the wrong.”

That successfully stopped Fu Hu in his tracks. Apparently, he took Xing Weiyue’s words very seriously. Despite his rage, he only glared viciously at Kong Han before backing down.

Xing Weiyue then turned to Qin Chaoyu and the other two with an apologetic expression. “My classmate here is just blunt. He doesn’t actually mean any harm. I apologize on his behalf for any discomfort he caused you.”

Qin Chaoyu frowned slightly. That was an interesting way to put it—Fu Hu was just “blunt” and “harmless,” while their sharp retorts made them seem petty.

With that single remark, Qin Chaoyu’s impression of Xing Weiyue soured. Sure, Yin Ledan and Kong Han had been a bit—just a tiny bit—excessive in their mockery. But favoritism wasn’t a trait exclusive to Xing Weiyue!

She stood up without even glancing at Xing Weiyue and his group, turning to Kong Han and Yin Ledan. “Let’s go.”

Throughout it all, Xing Weiyue’s expression remained unchanged.

Once they were away from the scene, Yin Ledan suddenly clapped Qin Chaoyu on the shoulder. “Not bad! Who knew our junior could be so cool?”

Unlike the straightforward Kong Han, Yin Ledan had also caught the implication in Xing Weiyue’s words. But before she could even respond, their seemingly reserved junior had delivered the ultimate slap—far more effective than any verbal comeback.

From that moment on, Yin Ledan blacklisted Xing Weiyue. Hmph, and to think she’d once idolized him! If time travel were possible, she’d go back and slap some sense into her past self.

Not long after the trio relocated, a staff member appeared, announcing that the day’s test was over and instructing everyone to return to their hotels to await the next day’s arrangements.

No one had expected the day’s challenge to be so easy, so the news was met with relief. People began dispersing in small groups, heading back to the hotel.

A few considered going out to explore, but most opted to rest. Qin Chaoyu and her friends chose the latter.

This time, the sponsors must have been exceptionally wealthy, as the organizers had generously booked the entire sixth floor of the Shengle Hotel for the participants.

Which meant Qin Chaoyu’s group and Xing Weiyue’s group were highly likely to run into each other.

By the time they returned to the hotel, it was already around 2 p.m. Having only eaten a light breakfast, their stomachs were growling in protest.

So they grabbed a meal at the hotel’s first-floor restaurant before heading upstairs. Qin Chaoyu and Yin Ledan were roommates.

Lying on the bed, Qin Chaoyu suddenly asked, “Why did that student from Huajing University of Traditional Chinese Medicine provoke us?”

Yin Ledan set down her book and thought for a moment. “It’s a rivalry between schools. Yuzhou University is a comprehensive institution, while Huajing specializes in traditional Chinese medicine. Yet, our TCM program holds its own against theirs. They think we’re unrefined amateurs, and we think they’re unfocused and impractical. Basically, academic snobbery.”

She cleverly adapted the phrase “scholars scorn each other” to fit the context.

“Honestly, I think Huajing is just jealous. Our program covers fewer skills, yet we still match them. How could they not resent that? In recent selections, at least two out of six spots go to our school. They’re obviously upset that a comprehensive university takes up so much space.”

“Inter-school rivalries trickle down to students. Every time we meet, there’s bound to be some taunting. You probably haven’t interacted much with Huajing students yet, but you’ll get used to it.”

So that was it. Qin Chaoyu had initially thought Fu Hu had some personal grudge against Kong Han, but it turned out to be institutional drama.

Exhausted from the morning’s events, drowsiness soon overtook her, and she drifted off.

When she woke up, it was already 8 p.m. Yin Ledan was still in the same position as before.

Having slept too long, Qin Chaoyu felt a slight headache upon sitting up. She massaged her temples for a while until someone knocked on the door.

Exchanging a puzzled glance with Yin Ledan, she wondered who it could be at this hour.

Yin Ledan opened the door to find their instructor, Lu Yahan.

Leading her inside, Yin Ledan asked, “Professor Lu, is there something you need to tell us?”

Lu Yahan replied softly, “Yes. Starting tomorrow, you’ll need to clean your own room. During the selection period, please try to keep it tidy.”

“What?!”

Yin Ledan groaned. “We have to clean ourselves? Doesn’t the hotel have housekeeping?”

“I’m not sure, but I assume they’ve been told not to service the sixth floor during this time.”

Lu Yahan smiled at Yin Ledan’s dismay and reassured her, “It’s fine. There are two of you, and girls are naturally neater than boys. Look at Chaoyu—she’s younger than you, and she doesn’t seem bothered at all.”

What could Qin Chaoyu say? She’d grown up with her master, who was so lazy that if she hadn’t learned to clean, their home would’ve been buried in trash with no space to walk.

Yin Ledan glanced at Qin Chaoyu’s calm expression and finally mustered her resolve. “Fine! I’ll learn to clean!”

“Good girl. I’ll head out now. See you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

After seeing Lu Yahan off, Yin Ledan collapsed onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head in silent frustration.

No matter how much she dreaded it, the next morning would still come—and she’d have to get up early to clean. She wasn’t shameless enough to sleep in while Qin Chaoyu did all the work.