Chapter Twenty-Eight: Holding One’s Head High

Saturday arrived with overcast skies and a cold north wind. The temperature was noticeably chilly.

It was fine enough for a morning run, but after his shower, Zhou Xuan had to don a jacket to ward off the cold. After more than a month of training, practicing the "Little Heavenly Cycle Breathing Method," and enjoying good meals, Zhou Xuan's once slender frame had grown stronger, no longer resembling a bamboo stalk. On closer inspection, his features had become sharper, his physique more proportionate, and he seemed a little taller than before, standing around one meter seventy-five. Wearing a white shirt beneath a black jacket and sporting a cropped haircut, Zhou Xuan looked especially spirited, exuding confidence. Lately, even the girls on the street had been casting more glances his way, much to Zhou Lin's envy.

Zhou Lin had considered joining Zhou Xuan for morning runs, but after just one day, the cold weather deterred him. Zhou Xuan didn't know what to say; he couldn't force Zhou Lin to change. What he had to do, he had done—what becomes of Zhou Lin now depends on his own efforts.

The official start of the parent-teacher meeting was scheduled for nine in the morning, with sign-in beforehand. At nine, the meeting would formally begin: the homeroom teacher would first address the parents, describing the class's management, students' academic progress, educational goals, and matters needing parental cooperation. Then would come the distribution of midterm awards—the top three in the class would receive certificates. Finally, there would be an interactive session where parents could raise questions or concerns, and the teachers would respond.

Upon entering the school, parents would sign in at their class's reception, then be guided by students to the correct classroom and their child's seat. Students would serve tea and hand over the midterm report cards to the parents.

By half past eight, Zhou Xuan had already picked up his father.

His father wore a broad smile, following Zhou Xuan to his seat. Zhou Xuan hurriedly poured tea for him, while another student handed over Zhou Xuan's report card. Zhou Xuan's father thanked the student politely before sitting down and examining the grades.

Seeing Zhou Xuan ranked first in the grade, his father's smile grew even more radiant. With his calloused hand, he clapped Zhou Xuan's shoulder. "Excellent! Excellent! Son, I'm proud of you!"

Looking at his father, Zhou Xuan found his thoughts drifting to memories from his previous life, moments shared between father and son.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll definitely get into Number One High School, and later, a good university," Zhou Xuan said solemnly.

He had owed his parents too much in the past; this time, he would do everything he could to make it up.

"Zhou Xuan, I heard from Zhou Lin you got first in the grade. I knew you’d pull it off!" came a hearty laugh from beside them.

Zhou Xuan and his father looked up to see Zhou Lin leading his own father over.

Zhou Lin’s father, Zhou Changxin, worked on city construction sites. Though the work was hard, he earned twenty or thirty yuan a day.

"Sixth Uncle, you’re here. Please, sit." Zhou Changxin and Zhou Xuan’s father, Zhou Changming, belonged to the same generation, so Zhou Xuan addressed him as Sixth Uncle.

Zhou Changxin greeted Zhou Xuan’s father, then turned to Zhou Xuan with a smile. "I knew your grades wouldn’t stay low forever. You’ve never given your parents much trouble."

"You say that, but you know Zhou Xuan’s grades dropped so much in eighth grade. We tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t listen. His mother and I worried ourselves sick, afraid he’d never recover and miss out on Number One High," Zhou Xuan’s father said, smiling despite the criticism.

"Ha! Now that Zhou Xuan’s ranked first, you must be overjoyed inside. With grades like these, getting into a top university will be no problem," Zhou Changxin replied, glancing at Zhou Xuan’s report card and wishing Zhou Lin’s results were as good. "Ah, Zhou Lin just doesn’t care for studying. If he can make it into the top fifty, I’ll rest easy."

At Second High, only those near the top fifty had a shot at getting into Number One High.

Hearing his father bring up his own results, Zhou Lin protested, "Dad, I moved up more than a hundred ranks in this midterm compared to the last monthly exam. That’s not easy! You think everyone’s a monster like Zhou Xuan?"

"Monster? Your Zhou Xuan brother earned those grades through hard work. If you put in half as much effort, I’d be grateful," Zhou Changxin scolded, though he was clearly pleased with Zhou Lin’s improvement.

As more parents arrived, several sat near Zhou Xuan’s father.

Zhou Lin and Zhou Xuan invited them to sit, then helped other students serve tea and water.

Conversation soon turned to academic performance. Zhou Xuan’s father, full of pride, remarked, "Nothing special, just scored 604 points—first in the grade."

The nearby parents were astonished. "That can’t be! Didn’t they say seating was arranged by monthly exam results this semester? My son says all the top students sit in the third and fourth rows."

Zhou Xuan and his friends sat in the very last row, supposedly reserved for the worst students in the grade.

"You don’t know—back in September’s monthly exam, Zhou Xuan was ranked over two hundred. Then, in October’s monthly exam, he jumped to seventh, and now he’s ranked first after the midterm," Zhou Changxin explained.

"Such improvement? Brother, your son is incredible! Any tips for my son to learn from?" a parent asked.

"I’m not sure, really. He studied hard at home over the summer, and he had a good foundation before. He was in the top ten in seventh grade, but later got distracted and fell behind," Zhou Xuan’s father replied—something they’d discussed beforehand. If teachers asked about Zhou Xuan’s rapid improvement, he would say it was due to diligent summer study. He didn’t know why Zhou Xuan wanted it said that way, but it made for a convenient explanation.

Whatever the reason, as long as the grades improved, he was happy. Since last month, Zhou Xuan seemed much more mature, with his own opinions on people and things, and had even submitted articles to earn a few thousand yuan.

Good grades and the ability to earn money had completely changed his father’s view of him.

"Hey, who wrote the words on the blackboard? That’s some fine handwriting!" a parent wearing glasses entered the classroom.

"That’s Zhou Xuan from our class," a student replied.

"Impressive. If he can write like that, his calligraphy must be excellent. Your students are talented."

"Of course! Zhou Xuan’s spoken English is even better than the teacher’s."

"And his essays are superb—he’s going to the city’s writing competition semifinals."

Hearing this, Zhou Xuan’s father thought, How come I never knew this boy of mine could write so well in chalk, or speak English so fluently? What else don’t I know? He felt a deep curiosity toward his son.

"Brother, I didn’t expect your son to be so talented."

"Indeed, you’ve educated him well!"

"Brother, share some tips with us, will you?"

In no time, Zhou Xuan’s father was surrounded by a group of parents, basking in the limelight.