Chapter One: I Must Not Betray My PE Teacher's Teachings

“If, in our lives, we have never discovered anyone who has traveled back from the future, it means that humanity must have gone extinct before inventing the time machine.” — Stephen Hawking.

Li Ye lowered his head and stared blankly at the battered desk before him, his gaze unmoving for a long while.

It was a double student desk, its surface covered with marks clearly carved by human hands. The shapes of the scratches were chaotic, stained with ink from different students and different eras, the accumulated layers blending into a swirl of colors, suffused with the spirit of abstract art, as if they held the idle memories of countless youthful students.

On the desk lay an exam paper—not the mechanically printed kind, but one Li Ye had only heard about from his parents: a mimeographed test.

A mimeograph test was made by first inscribing words onto thin wax paper with a metal stylus, then using a hand-cranked mimeograph machine to press ink through the wax and onto the pages beneath. The result was a paper with rough workmanship and easily smudged ink, but it was cheap and convenient, making it wildly popular in the 1980s.

That’s right, the 1980s.

Li Ye slowly lifted his head to gaze at the portrait of a leader hanging above the blackboard, brimming with the aura of the era, still unable to believe his soul had crossed into a parallel world in 1981, becoming a repeat high school student with the same name.

Yellowed walls, a faded blackboard, battered desks, and a classroom full of students who looked like they’d just walked out of the countryside—all of this struck Li Ye’s heart with such force that, even after being here for quite some time, his soul and memories had not entirely fused.

He stretched out his arm, and his sleeve slipped back, revealing the lean, youthful forearm unique to teenagers. The skin was taut and elastic, the muscle lines graceful and well-shaped, blue veins faintly visible beneath the surface. With a body fat percentage this low and skin this good, he mused, if it were in his past life, he would have had to spend a fortune at the gym and take hundreds of private lessons with several beautiful trainers to achieve this.

Li Ye, who had once deeply regretted his early gray hair from too many sleepless nights, couldn’t help but sigh inwardly... Youth is truly wonderful!

“Hù Man, has anyone in our class solved this problem? Have you figured out how to do it yet?”

“I’m not really sure about these hyperbola problems either. I think maybe...”

“Yeah, yeah, I thought that too, but I ran out of time and couldn’t finish it...”

“That method’s wrong. That’s exactly how I did it, and I got zero points...”

The heated debate buzzed behind Li Ye, pulling his attention away from his tangled thoughts.

Rule One for Travelers: Adapt to this society, starting with the people around you.

Turning his head, Li Ye peered through the gaps between several classmates and quickly grasped the key to the hyperbola math problem. Seeing his classmates frowning and scratching their heads in vain, he squeezed into the group, picked up a pen, and began writing out the equations.

“Actually, this problem is quite simple. We already know the right focus of hyperbola C1... Point M (3, t) is on C1, so we can set up an equation to find t squared, and then...”

Silence. A silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.

Li Ye hadn’t even finished writing out the equations before he was forced to stop. The classmates, who had just been fervently discussing, now all stared at him with odd expressions, as if he were some rare creature.

A few seconds later, Hu Man, who sat behind Li Ye, reached out and silently took the pen from his hand. It was her pen—a Hero-brand fountain pen—which she didn’t like others borrowing.

The other students who had been arguing all turned away, resuming their conversation, not paying Li Ye the slightest attention.

Well, this is awkward!

I’m trying to help you with the problem, and this is the attitude I get? Am I invisible to you?

“Li Ye, you got it wrong yourself, and you still have the nerve to explain it to Hu Man and the others? What’s that saying? Oh right, the blind leading the blind!”

A mocking voice drifted from the last row of the classroom.

Li Ye paused and glanced back, spotting a boy with a painfully outdated look and a face full of adolescent bravado.

He Wei-guo, a two-time repeater and class clown, who, emboldened by a distant uncle on the teaching staff, made it his business to tease his classmates as often as possible—not worth the trouble to engage.

Li Ye turned back to his mimeographed paper.

28.

Two glaring red digits stood out boldly on the ink-scented test page.

Sigh.

Li Ye fell silent.

Even during the years he’d been addicted to Warcraft and MOBA games in his previous life, he’d never scored so abysmally, had he?

Looking over the mistakes only made it worse: misreading the question, setting up the wrong formulas, and even when he finally had the right train of thought, he still made calculation errors. How did he ever have the nerve to repeat a year? Wouldn’t working in a factory be more fitting?

But while Li Ye kept silent, the guy behind him refused to let up.

“Li Ye, are you still dreaming of going to the capital to find Lu Jingyao? Your Chinese isn’t bad—could you explain what ‘a toad lusting after a swan’ means?”

A roar of laughter erupted throughout the classroom.

Not only the back rows, but even a few of the boys around Li Ye snickered quietly. Only Hu Man, the one who’d reclaimed her pen, and a few other girls, frowned in visible annoyance.

A sharp pain suddenly pierced Li Ye’s mind.

After his soul transmigration, his brain was like a computer—every detail from his past life and every trace of the original host’s memories stored in its hard drive, ready to be called up as needed.

A string of images flashed before his eyes, showing the original host’s past entanglements with Lu Jingyao.

“The first thing you do after making it ashore is to cut off your beloved?”

Li Ye shook his head and smiled. In this era, even Zhiqing returning to the city could sever attachments, so what if she’d leaped into public service?

“Brother, let it go. She’s not worth it.”

Li Ye had plenty of experience in “failing over and over,” and had seen all kinds of manipulators and heartbreakers. Getting wounded for love was not his style, nor did he intend to quarrel with others over such matters.

With this quiet murmur, that lingering obsession dissipated like smoke.

But the tree wishes to be still, and the wind will not cease.

Li Ye’s calmness only made He Wei-guo feel challenged. He stood up and walked over, reaching for Li Ye’s exam paper.

“Twenty-eight points, not bad! You improved by seven points after repeating a year. If you repeat for two years, that’s fourteen. Three years... Lu Jingyao will have graduated by then... Ha... Hey, let go, let go...”

Li Ye grabbed He Wei-guo’s hand, bending two of his fingers, and slowly stood up, coldly watching as He Wei-guo grimaced in pain.

“Let go... ah, let... go... damn... Lu Jingyao...”

He Wei-guo’s fingers were nearly twisted out of shape. He wanted to fight back, but the pain left him weak and powerless.

But more than the physical pain, it was the panic in his heart that overwhelmed him.

Half a year ago, He Wei-guo would never have dared provoke Li Ye—his fists were notorious. Though slender, the original Li Ye was no weakling; both his father and grandfather had served in the army, and the old man had even trained in martial arts, mentoring many students. Since childhood, Li Ye had been toughened by his grandfather—not formally trained, perhaps, but he’d rarely lost a fight.

But ever since He Wei-guo discovered Li Ye’s Achilles heel, he felt he’d seized the bull by the horns and could show off as he pleased. That weakness was Lu Jingyao.

After Li Ye started repeating, anytime someone mentioned Lu Jingyao, he’d end up in a fight. Each time, rumors would spread through the school: “Lu Jingyao got into university in the capital and dumped Li Ye.” In this era, with little entertainment, gossip was powerful, and each time, Li Ye was left so embarrassed he wished he could disappear.

Moreover, fighting at school was a serious offense. If things got out of hand, parents would be called in; after several incidents, not only did his family blame him, but even the teachers started looking at him differently.

Seventeen or eighteen is an age of delicate feelings. The once-kind boy became withdrawn, depressed, bottling up his anger.

He wanted to go to college, to the capital, and wouldn’t risk his future for trouble or lost love.

But swallowing his pride only invited more intense bullying.

So you’re good-looking? So girls like you? But you’re still at my mercy.

Who else should I pick on if not you, the class standout?

Jealous of Li Ye for ages, He Wei-guo found his opportunity to shine.

If Li Ye did well, He Wei-guo mocked, “Oh, off to the capital to chase Lu Jingyao, are we?”

If Li Ye did poorly, he gloated, “With scores like yours, you’re still dreaming of Lu Jingyao?”

Each time He Wei-guo deliberately stirred up conflict, watching Li Ye clench his fists in silent fury, he felt as delighted as if he’d swallowed honey.

He Wei-guo thought himself the class “big brother,” basking in everyone’s admiration—especially the girls’.

But now, staring into Li Ye’s eyes, he couldn’t help but tremble.

Too calm.

Li Ye’s gaze held none of the former self-doubt, pain, or anger—only a terrifying coldness and indifference.

At this moment, He Wei-guo felt as if Li Ye was like one of the tigers at the provincial zoo: seemingly lazy and harmless only because it wasn’t hungry. When a tiger fixes you with its stare, the primal fear that wells up can be so intense you have to clench your legs to avoid losing control.

No exaggeration—Li Ye, with two lifetimes’ experience, utterly overwhelmed a high schooler like He Wei-guo in terms of presence. He might not kill with a glance, but they were in entirely different leagues.

He Wei-guo was genuinely afraid now. He feared the hothead who could break bricks with one hand had returned.

“Teacher’s coming!”

As the warning rang out, a skinny old man appeared at the classroom door.

“What’s going on? Are you all begging for a beating?”

The crowd of onlookers scattered at once, scrambling back to their seats and pretending to be model students.

There was no talk of “no corporal punishment” in those days; teachers didn’t coddle unruly students. At best, you stood as punishment; more often, you got a slap. Complain to your parents, and you’d only get another round of “enhanced” education at home.

“Teacher’s here, let go...”

Seeing his savior, He Wei-guo struggled to break free, hoping to muddy the waters and pin the blame on Li Ye as the aggressor.

Li Ye released him, nodded slightly to the old man, and sat back down.

In his last life, Li Ye had also been bullied at school; he knew exactly how to handle these situations.

The less you care, the less trouble you invite. The more afraid you are, the more problems you’ll have.

The old man paused, obviously surprised by Li Ye’s composure.

He remembered Li Ye well; at a time like this, most students would be nervous and at a loss. Li Ye, however, seemed nothing like a typical student—more like someone who had weathered many storms.

“Class monitor, what happened?”

Hu Man stood up and replied, “Mr. Hu, just now He Wei-guo mocked Li Ye for his poor score. Li Ye only did badly because he was sick...”

Now it was Li Ye’s turn to be surprised. The girl who’d taken her pen back from him was actually defending him.

“I was sick”—the ultimate excuse of underachievers everywhere.

But in truth, the original host had indeed been feverish lately—so feverish, in fact, that he’d swapped souls.

He Wei-guo cut in, “Li Ye only got sick after the exam...”

“Enough,” Mr. Hu interrupted irritably. “And you have the nerve to mock others, He Wei-guo? Back to your seat!”

He Wei-guo slunk back to his seat, not forgetting to glare at Li Ye with a “just you wait” look.

Li Ye wasn’t intimidated. In this era, which kid hadn’t been in a fight? Sometimes you had to throw a punch to avoid a hundred.

The physical prowess of this body was impressive. As long as he didn’t act timid, dominating the school wasn’t out of reach.

As for the teacher’s attitude, Li Ye was confident that, once he revealed his true academic ability, the school would understand his situation.

“This mock exam was a bit tough, but it’s closer to the real college entrance exam. Many students only scored in the teens or twenties...

“Of course, grades aren’t everything. Some students have great potential, like Li Ye. He only scored twenty-eight points this time—it seems low, but it’s a big improvement from before. As long as he keeps working hard, he still has a good chance of passing the preliminary exam, and getting into a technical secondary school isn’t out of the question.”

What?

Li Ye was stunned.

Twenty-eight points... a big improvement? A bit low?

Dear Mr. Hu, you are far too generous and comforting.

But you’re saying I might get into a technical secondary school? And even that’s only “possible”?

What a joke.

Sure, the high school technical exams were different from the junior high ones, but as someone who fought his way through the mountains of test papers in the new millennium, aiming for a second-tier university, you expect me to settle for a technical school?

If I don’t make it into a national key university, I’d be letting down all those years my PE teachers spent training me.