I had already mastered all the lessons of junior high school long before I entered it.

Xie Yihuang smiled and said, “Tired, yes, but since it’s so rare to be human, I might as well learn as much as I can.”

Beside him, Xie Yunfeng was scratching his head and fidgeting, as though he’d hit a stumbling block. Xie Yihuang noticed and asked, “Brother, what’s wrong?”

“This math problem is just too hard.” Xie Yunfeng’s grades were always above average—not the best, but far from the worst, safely in the middle tier each time. With these results, getting into a top high school was a stretch, but his chances at a regular one weren’t bad.

Xie Yihuang walked over, glanced at the problem, then took a piece of paper and swiftly wrote out the solution. “Here, it’s like this.”

The moment Xie Yunfeng saw it, he realized that what seemed so difficult before was in fact surprisingly simple once Xie Yihuang showed the way.

“Wait a minute, A-Yi, you can do junior high problems?” Only after finishing the problem and tidying up his homework did Xie Yunfeng remember to raise this matter.

Xie Yihuang gave him a sidelong look. “It’s nothing much. I finished all the junior high material ages ago.” He didn’t mention teaching himself—no need to hit others where it hurt.

Xie Yunfeng stared in shock, speechless, but before he could say anything, Xie Yuanfeng blurted out, “You—you—you’ve finished all the junior high curriculum?”

“What’s going on here? Are you three arguing?” Xie Yuanfeng’s exclamation drew their parents’ attention.

“No, not at all, Dad, Mom,” Xie Yuanfeng answered quickly. “We’re just shocked that A-Yi has already finished all the junior high coursework with Grandpa’s help.”

Now both parents were stunned. Although Xie’s father had already suspected something yesterday when he found that he couldn’t understand the books his daughter was reading, hearing the confirmation still left him reeling.

He looked at his other children, then at Xie Yihuang, and only after a long pause did he ask, “A-Yi, is what your sister said true? You’ve already learned all the junior high material with Grandpa?”

“Yes, I’ve finished the junior high material. Now I’m working on high school content.” Xie Yihuang still didn’t mention being self-taught. “It’s not that big a deal. If I didn’t have this ability, Grandpa wouldn’t have let me stay home from school to study.”

How very nonchalant.

In truth, Grandpa Qi had wanted to find a tutor for Xie Yihuang, but none suitable could be found for the moment. Though in her past life Xie Yihuang had been a poor student, she had a solid foundation, and the junior and senior high curricula of this era paled compared to those of later years. With her photographic memory, self-studying high school content was no trouble at all.

Still, Xie Yihuang let Grandpa Qi continue looking for the right teacher. Some questions needed a professional’s guidance to truly understand—far better than struggling alone.

To her, junior high problems like the one that stumped Xie Yunfeng were no challenge.

But their parents were still floored. After a long silence, Xie’s father finally said, “Could it be that my daughter is the reincarnation of the God of Literature?”

Xie Yihuang gave him a look. “Dad, the God of Literature? Hardly. At most, I just started learning earlier than others. Besides, there’s still plenty in the high school material I don’t understand. If the God of Literature could do no better than me, that would be rather disappointing.”

She wasn’t being arrogant; she simply didn’t consider herself a genius. To her, this was just a side effect of her photographic memory—a highly useful one, to be sure.

“Was it your grandpa teaching you?” her mother asked.

“Sort of,” she replied. “But most of it I learned on my own. When I don’t understand something, I ask Grandpa. Of course, there are some things he can’t explain well, especially in math and science. He’s already helping me find a suitable teacher for those. Once that happens, I’ll just study with them.”

She didn’t hide this, knowing her parents would find out anyway when she began formal lessons.

Her father nodded, feeling reassured. “You’ve already learned so much ahead of time, and that’s great. No need to be some legendary scholar—if you kids can find the right work for yourselves, that’s enough. Just find a stable job with security, that’s all I ask.”

For him, a steady job in the public sector was the ideal. Xie Yihuang understood his thinking and didn’t correct him. She still hadn’t decided what she wanted for the future, but she knew the foundation she was laying now would serve her well, whatever she chose.

The family’s housewarming banquet was scheduled for Sunday evening. There were no five-day workweeks yet, but most people had Sundays off—at least those with some standing and regular hours at the factory. Most workers, however, took turns on rotating shifts.

Take her mother, for example: her designated rest day was always Tuesday. But most people rested on Sundays, so the family chose to hold the banquet then.

Her mother switched shifts with a coworker—taking Sunday off in exchange for her usual Tuesday rest. She never took a full day off for personal business; at most, she’d ask for an hour or two. Whole days off required swapping shifts. This time, she was free on Sunday, and her coworker would have Tuesday off next week.

For any banquet, the hosts were expected to do plenty of work. Even children had their tasks—like picking and washing vegetables.

Children of this era weren’t like those in later generations, some of whom reached adulthood without knowing any housework. Here, once a child could walk, they gradually learned to manage chores. By Xie Yihuang’s age, she could do nearly everything around the house, if not as fast as an adult.

Xie Yihuang washed vegetables, Xie Yuanfeng did the dishes, and Xie Yunfeng helped their father fetch the borrowed tables, stools, and benches.

Once the ingredients were all prepped, Xie Yihuang and Xie Yuanfeng went to a corner to wrap return gifts.

It was customary to prepare small gifts for guests at a housewarming banquet—typically pastries and fruit. With businesses becoming more personalized, purchasing these was no longer a challenge. Each gift was wrapped in a towel and included a steamed bun, a few fruit candies, an apple, and a tangerine—a remarkably generous offering for the times.

Their mother would place some return gifts in the baskets and back-carriers brought by relatives, who always gave gifts that were practical and sincere.

From Grandpa Qi’s side, the family received a slab of pork belly weighing about ten pounds, a fish, a chicken, a duck, a basket of steamed buns, one of noodles, another of tangerines, and one of apples. In addition, he brought a pot of evergreens and a money tree.

Ten items in total, symbolizing perfection and completeness—a most lavish housewarming present in these times.