Chapter 2: Who Am I? Where Am I? (Part 2)

These high school students should have been attending class, but now every head had turned, all eyes fixed on Shi Tiexin with expressions of astonishment and confusion. Shi Tiexin stared back at them, equally wide-eyed, his gaze shifting through surprise, bewilderment, and utter incomprehension.

Looking down, he saw a desk overturned at his feet, books scattered messily across the floor—likely the result of his abrupt leap to his feet just moments before. Reasoning through the situation, he surmised that he must be one of these “high school students” too, and the class must have been proceeding quietly—until his own sudden outburst and the upending of his desk.

This was bad—very bad.

Though his mind was in disarray, Shi Tiexin could still recognize how precarious his situation was.

In the profound silence that followed, a thunderous roar erupted from the front of the classroom.

“What on earth are you doing?!”

The sound made his heart lurch with a primal fear, as if he’d just heard a lion’s roar or a tiger’s snarl, a dread welling up from his very core and soul, triggered by a flash of memory.

He shuddered involuntarily, raising his eyes to see a man of about forty standing at the so-called “lectern,” glaring at him in a fury.

“Are you leading a rebellion? Planning an uprising?!”

The man slammed his palm onto the desk with a resounding crack, his rage nearly making his hair stand on end. Shi Tiexin flinched reflexively, thoughts scattering like startled ducks.

This was bad—this was terrible. It was homeroom teacher Old Jia’s class! My God, what am I doing? Why would I lose my mind in Old Jia’s class?

“If you don’t want to listen, I won’t force you—get out, right now!” Old Jia roared like a maddened lion, jabbing his finger at the door. “From this moment until the end of the day, stand outside. Don’t come back to class!”

Shi Tiexin felt no urge to resist; lowering his head, meek and subdued, he started for the door.

“Put that desk back before you leave!” Old Jia barked again. “Can’t you even manage that? Are you sleepwalking?”

Shi Tiexin obediently turned back, righted the desk, and crouched to gather the scattered books. Some words seemed to flash before his eyes, but in his befuddled state, he failed to take them in. He stood and walked towards the door, every eye in the classroom watching him, the room quickly filling with a buzz of hushed voices.

Those gazes—some puzzled, some disdainful, some even tinged with pity—meant nothing to Shi Tiexin. He walked out in a daze, found a spot outside in the hallway, and leaned against the wall.

As soon as he stepped beyond the threshold, the whispers inside swelled into a low roar.

“All right, enough! Quiet!” Old Jia’s bellow could be heard clearly even through the wall. “Why are you wasting time on him? If you’re struggling, you’ll end up in the regular class; if you’re doing well, and want to get into the elite class, you’d better focus and study harder! Survival of the fittest—only the strong thrive. At Fengming First High, only by becoming stronger and stronger can you soar to the heights!”

Standing in the hallway, Shi Tiexin wore an expression of utter confusion. His memories and consciousness flickered like a scrambled radio signal, now one channel, now another; his thoughts shuffled and tangled, two decks of cards being mixed together, whirling through his mind.

One moment, he felt himself to be a “pupil” raised in the orphanage of Tumubao Space City, studying at the Star Worker Child Academy, trained in the basic techniques of cultivation and martial arts, practicing the six core disciplines, and facing the looming pressure of the county-level exams.

The next, he thought himself a high schooler, born in Donghua, raised in Southern Zhili, now attending the prestigious Fengming First High—an ordinary student, with no strength or distinction.

The two sets of memories clashed and mingled, leaving Shi Tiexin oblivious to the passing of time. Before he knew it, the class was over. The bell rang, and Old Jia, his face like cast iron, strode out of the room. He glanced up and down at Shi Tiexin’s dazed, sleepwalking expression, gave a heavy “hmph!” of displeasure, and walked away without another word.

Shi Tiexin shrank back instinctively, opening his mouth as if to speak, but with the turmoil raging inside him, nothing came out.

Then the students poured out in streams—some from his own class, others from adjacent ones. Chatter rose to a crescendo. Students from other classes stared at him, while his own classmates began to explain the scene.

“Oh!”

“So that’s what happened!”

“No way… why would he act like that?”

“Is he crazy?”

People pointed and whispered from afar, but no one came over to talk to him or relieve his embarrassment. In his haze, Shi Tiexin understood. He’d always been quiet and withdrawn, and had little contact with his classmates. Now that he was in trouble, it was only natural that no one wanted to get involved.

“Didn’t you hear? He’s that ‘Number One Scholar Shi,’” someone said from a distance, glancing over with a complicated expression. “He topped the provincial exams and got specially admitted to the school.”

“Huh?” someone else scratched his head. “Southern Zhili has three provinces, five prefectures, and twenty-eight districts. To be first in any district is impressive. And being specially admitted, he should definitely be in the elite class. How did he end up in the advanced class instead?”

The advanced class at Fengming First High was a gathering of talent, but it still fell short of the elite class.

“Who knows? I heard from someone in the elite class that this ‘Number One Scholar Shi’ really did start out there, and for a while, he was even a contender for the top ten. But then his grades plummeted. By the end of last semester, he was at the bottom of the elite class. At midterms this semester, he didn’t even qualify to stay—he got bumped down to the advanced class.”

“How could that happen?” someone exclaimed. “For a top scholar to be forced out of the elite class, that’s pretty tragic. By the way, Gu Shaohuai, is he really that smart?”

The narrator curled his lip in contempt. “Hmph. When he first arrived, everyone thought he was some banished immortal or a dragon crossing the river—at the very least, someone who’d claw his way back to the top. Who would have thought he’d end up looking like a lunatic? If you ask me, after this semester’s finals, forget about making it back to the elite class—he might not even keep his spot here in the advanced class.”