Mark Twain's Move Was Absolutely Ruthless

In the evening, Chen Minyue and Shen Shi drove home, and Shen Nian heard the sound of tires rolling over the concrete from the third floor.

After studying all afternoon, his mind was foggy, but he finally finished the third set of monthly exam papers.

Eighty damn test papers—just kill me already.

Shen Nian put down his pen. His parents were back, but he hadn’t even rinsed the rice or started cooking.

The thought of his parents working hard all day at the farm, bustling around the livestock pens, only to come home to no warm meal waiting for them made Shen Nian feel…

But there was nothing he could do about it.

Even though Chen Minyue and Shen Shi probably wouldn’t believe him, he really had been studying all afternoon, so absorbed that he didn’t realize it was already 6 p.m.

What a joke.

Shen Nian went downstairs to cook with his mom while Shen Shi organized tools in the car outside. They didn’t eat until around seven.

"Mom, were you tired today? Any back or leg pain? I can give you a massage later." Shen Nian remembered his mom often complaining about back pain before—perfect chance to test his healing hands.

"Not tired at all. We didn’t go to the farm today."

"Huh? Then where’d you go?"

"Your dad and I went to the neighboring village to watch the lion dance. Oh, what a spectacle!"

"…"

So his parents went out to have fun while he was stuck at home grinding through study sessions.

Betrayed. Only Xia Yanchun’s affection could make up for this.

At night, after dinner and a shower, Shen Nian sat alone in his room. His desk was cluttered with messy test papers, eraser shavings scattered everywhere.

Tackling ten mid-tier monsters wasn’t as formal as the first time—just filling out the papers half-heartedly would do. That was the conclusion Shen Nian drew after finishing the third set.

If every test demanded his absolute best, he’d burn out completely.

Still, he didn’t slack off entirely. For essays, like argumentative writing, he usually had to quote famous sayings or historical events to support his points.

Normally, that meant reading extensively to gather material.

But Shen Nian found a comfortable shortcut:

"I am a slow walker, but I never walk backward." —Mark Twain.

"Success is achieved by those who are deeply passionate." —Mark Twain.

"Ate at Wallace today without getting diarrhea—truly a divine miracle." —Mark Twain.

"If you don’t know who said a quote, just attribute it to Mark Twain." —Mark Twain.

He stuffed his essays with made-up nonsense. No one checked or graded them anyway.

Mark Twain was a lifesaver.

Anyone who badmouthed Mark Twain was Shen Nian’s enemy.

By 2:30 a.m., he finished the fourth set. The endless writing had worn him out.

Leaning back in his chair, Shen Nian exhaled deeply. No matter how hard he worked, the gap between him and Xia Yanchun remained vast—an insurmountable chasm between a mere mortal and a true prodigy.

Last year’s provincial science top scorer got 723. While scores fluctuated with test difficulty, rankings didn’t. If Xia Yanchun kept this up, she’d easily land in the top 50 for the national college entrance exam.

Damn prodigy. Why settle for a local 985 university? Just go straight to Tsinghua or Peking.

Knock knock—

"Hm?"

"Cut some fruit for you. Want some?"

"Sure."

Chen Minyue opened the door, smiling, then froze at the sight of Shen Nian studying. She placed the fruit plate on his desk, eyeing him like he was an imposter.

Is this really my son?

He looked similar—maybe even handsomer. But after not seeing him much lately, he seemed like a different person.

Hah. Growing up.

Shen Nian speared a piece of watermelon with a toothpick, the sweetness lingering in his throat.

"Oh, I found your old toys in the storage room. Want them? They’re dusty. If not, I’ll give them to your cousins or toss them."

"Hey, don’t throw them!" Shen Nian protested. "I paid good money for those. When I’m old, I’ll take them out and reminisce. Sounds fun, right?"

"Reminisce? You never even look at them now."

"That’s why I said when I’m old." Shen Nian waved dismissively. "Mom, you’ll understand when you’re my age."

Ah, there’s the familiar brat. Time to find a clothes hanger.

Chen Minyue fetched a box of toys from storage, wiping off the dust. Inside were Shen Nian’s childhood playthings, untouched for seven or eight years.

If not for his rare visit and her cleaning spree, they might’ve stayed buried forever.

"Handle this yourself."

"Yeah, yeah."

It was late, so Chen Minyue left him to his studying.

Shen Nian glanced at the box, then sat cross-legged on the floor. Opening it revealed a jumble of forgotten toys—Lego minifigures, Transformers, robotic beetles…

At eighteen, he couldn’t yet taste nostalgia. So he closed the box and shoved it under his cabinet.

Let twenty-eight-year-old Shen Nian relive childhood. Right now, eighteen-year-old Shen Nian had a mission: become Xia Yanchun’s best friend in the whole world.

Yeah. Just best friends.

Outside, the wind howled, rustling the curtains. Shen Nian strode over and pushed the half-open window wider, letting the autumn breeze wrap around him.

The temperature had dropped tonight.

Wait—why was Xia Yanchun out here too?

She stood on her balcony in pajamas, leaning against the railing as the wind played with her short, wisteria-like hair.

"What’re you staring at?" Xia Yanchun tugged her collar, annoyed. Who just steps onto a balcony and ogles people?

"Enjoying the breeze?" Shen Nian grinned, edging closer until only two railings separated them. The scent of her freshly showered skin seemed to drift over.

"Yeah, just washed up."

"Want some fruit?" Shen Nian darted back inside and returned with the plate, toothpicks still in it.

"Oho, a pleasant surprise. How filial of you."

Xia Yanchun leaned in, reaching easily across the narrow gap between balconies. The railing stopped just below her chest—like at school, the space was too tight to even fit a leg through.

Only now did she realize how easy it’d be to climb over to Shen Nian’s side. Even she could do it safely…

Not that she would. If anyone was climbing, it’d be him.

Wait—no! That’s not okay either!

"Filial? My mom cut these. That’s disrespectful to her!" Shen Nian pointed accusingly, escalating the situation. "Penalty: show me your legs and send me 200 yuan."

"Here, look." Xia Yanchun lifted her pants slightly. "Lower legs count too. Or do you eat drumsticks but skip the lower part?"

Only people who refuse chicken lower legs deserve to see legs.

Shen Nian cursed inwardly. Next time, he’d specify thighs.

Live and learn.

Watching Xia Yanchun nibble watermelon under the cool breeze, Shen Nian felt an odd contentment.

"Ahhh, Xia Yanchun, you’re like a sweet, soft…"

"Shut up, stop spouting nonsense here."

"Oh..."

Yanxi reminds you: Due to Tomato's request for 3 million+ daily visits causing excessive server pressure, we now recommend switching to other top-tier sources.