Jiang Yi stood there dumbfounded, wondering if there was something wrong with his ears.

It wasn’t just him. Almost all the students and teachers were equally stunned, listening to Lu Li’s so-called reflection. By the end, the reflection had completely turned into praise for Jiang Yi, the top student in the grade.

“I’m proud that our school has a student like Jiang Yi. He is the future of our country, the hope of our nation. I urge everyone to follow his example and learn from his dedicated attitude toward studying…”

The principal, standing next to the stage, was bewildered. For a moment, he wondered whether he was still the principal or if Lu Li had taken over the role.

By the time Jiang Yi snapped out of his daze, the host was already ushering Lu Li off the stage, but Lu Li was still holding on stubbornly to the podium. He hadn’t finished reading two pages of his reflection yet. Leaning into the microphone, he insisted, “Wait, I still have a few more points to make…”

Back in the advanced class, the class president couldn’t help but turn around and whisper, “Jiang Yi, is that your friend?”

Jiang Yi opened his mouth, wanting to say yes—they had grown up together—but seeing the curious stares of those around him and the sight of Lu Li being dragged off stage, he hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Jiang Yi, what’s your relationship with Lu Li from the international class?”

“Jiang Yi, have you really won that many awards? That’s amazing…”

“Jiang Yi…”

After the flag-raising ceremony, a crowd of curious classmates surrounded Jiang Yi. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.

---

Since elementary school, because of his bilingual education and his previous dislike for Chinese, Arno’s writing skills were terrible.

During elementary school’s “picture and writing” exercises, Arno would sit there, picking at his fingers for ten minutes without writing a single word.

After noticing this, the Chinese teacher tried everything to encourage him, using all kinds of methods to get the mixed-race boy to write more.

But even after half an hour of finger-picking, Arno still couldn’t think of a single sentence.

That was until the teacher discovered that whenever Arno wrote about Jiang Yi, his words would flow effortlessly.

For example, during a spring field trip in elementary school, Arno wrote a two-page essay, one and a half pages of which were dedicated to describing Jiang Yi.

In this essay, the teacher was moved to tears, realizing that not only had Arno written a lot, but he had even used an advanced metaphor.

For instance, in the essay, Arno described Jiang Yi squatting on the ground, saying he was “as cute as a giant piece of bubblegum.” Though the teacher didn’t fully understand the metaphor, she was relieved that Arno had finally started writing more.
At least Arno’s ability to express himself in writing was still intact.

Now, Lu Li had perfectly inherited his old habit from elementary school: whenever he couldn’t come up with something to write, he would write about Jiang Yi.

As long as the topic involved Jiang Yi, Lu Li could effortlessly fill several pages. Last night, while writing his reflection letter, once he accidentally mentioned Jiang Yi’s name, the words flowed smoothly, and he ended up writing several pages of his reflection without even realizing it.

Thanks to Lu Li’s public reflection, Jiang Yi’s reputation skyrocketed, and he instantly became well-known throughout the Middle School and within their social circles.

Fortunately, Jiang Yi was already used to being scrutinized, given that he had consistently ranked first in his grade.

However, this time, the attention seemed a bit overwhelming. Almost everyone who approached him asked for his contact information, claiming they wanted to ask him questions after class.

Jiang Yi had always been serious about his studies, so when his classmates asked for his contact information with the excuse of needing help with homework, he readily shared it.

By the time class ended, his phone was buzzing nonstop with friend requests.

Cheng Chao, lying on his desk, glanced at the vibrating phone and smirked, “Don’t tell me you gave your contact info to everyone who asked?”

Jiang Yi replied seriously, “Of course not.”

As he accepted more friend requests, he added, “I only gave it to those who said they had questions about homework.”

Cheng Chao: “…”

“How many people said they wanted to ask you questions?”

Jiang Yi paused, rubbing his nose, and quietly muttered, “I think all of them said that.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I guess they all really do have questions, right?”

Cheng Chao didn’t respond, simply scrolling through the school’s online forum, enjoying the drama. He wasn’t in a rush—he knew someone else would be far more anxious than him.

---

In the international class.

“Brother Lu, did you check the forum?”

Lu Li, struggling to write a real reflection letter, barely lifted his head as he grumbled, “Get lost. I’m not looking.”

Why was this reflection so difficult to write?

He wished Wang De’s name were longer—maybe something like “Victor Wang De”—so he could write a few more lines and hit the 2,000-word requirement faster.

Zhong Mao turned to Qin Lan and whispered, “He’s not even checking up on Jiang Yi’s stuff. What’s going on with him today?”

Qin Lan didn’t say anything, his fingers dancing across his phone screen. After a moment, he grinned, “Who cares? I just applied to be an admin for the group.”

Zhong Mao gasped, “Damn, you’re quick!”

They were referring to a group chat related to a trending topic in the school’s online forum. There was a thread called the “Academic Gods Post,” where every year, the top students at Experimental Middle School were recognized. Before every exam, countless students would visit the post to “absorb” some of the academic gods’ good luck.

What started as a superstitious tradition eventually became a popular topic in the school.

Typically, it would take Jiang Yi at least a year of consistently holding the top spot in the grade to become the subject of such discussions.

However, Lu Li’s passionate speech had elevated Jiang Yi to legendary status in just one day, spreading his fame throughout the entire school.

As Ying Zhuohan put it, even the stray dogs around the school knew about Jiang Yi’s achievements by now—otherwise, the publicity team wasn’t doing its job.

Naturally, Jiang Yi became a hot topic in the forum, and a group chat was even created for betting on whether he would be officially crowned as one of the school’s “Academic Gods.”

Seeing this, Qin Lan, always eager to join in on the fun, immediately applied to become an admin.

---

Later that night, after Lu Li had exhausted himself writing a 2,000-word reflection, he messaged Jiang Yi, only to find that Jiang Yi was online but hadn’t responded.

Lu Li thought it was strange. His first thought was that something might have happened to Jiang Yi, so he left his phone on the desk, waiting for a reply.

Even after Lu Li finished his shower, there was still no message from Jiang Yi.

Feeling uneasy, Lu Li resisted the urge to call him, reasoning that Jiang Yi was probably focused on doing schoolwork and not checking his phone.

---

At Jiang Yi’s house, he was starting to get a headache. His phone was constantly lighting up with notifications, and he didn’t really feel like looking at it.

Cheng Chao had been right. Few of the people messaging him were actually asking about homework. Most were inviting him to join various clubs or asking about his hobbies.

After replying to messages for half the day and seeing no end in sight, Jiang Yi put his phone on silent, flipped it face down on the desk, and decided to finish his homework before checking again.

Meanwhile, on Lu Li’s end, after trying to call Jiang Yi several times with no answer, he grabbed the completed reflection letter and considered sneaking out to find him. But then he remembered something Zhong Mao had said earlier.

Stopping in his tracks, Lu Li pulled out his phone and opened the school forum. Two minutes later, he was stunned.

The forum was flooded with discussions about Jiang Yi—things like “mom fans,” “younger guys,” and “little brother types.” None of it made any sense to Lu Li.

As he scrolled, his frustration grew. Then he noticed a group recruiting admins for a discussion about Jiang Yi, and he immediately applied to join the group to see what kind of nonsense was going on.

The group admin quickly approved Lu Li’s new account and asked what his purpose was for joining the group.

Lu Li messaged, “Are you still looking for admins?”

Admin: “Yes, would you like to be one?”

Lu Li replied, “I want to be the group leader.”

Admin: “…”

Half a minute later, Lu Li was kicked out of the group and promptly blocked by the admin.