Logan Wright took a deep breath at last and declined politely, saying, "Bro Henry, here's the thing, my time is very precious now, I can't waste even a second. You know what I mean."

Henry Howard: "Why don't you believe me, Charlie? Wouldn't it be good for us to give each other a chance?"

What answered him was the resolute back of Logan Wright as he walked away.

Logan Wright's steps were unsteady as he left, his whole being feeling dreamlike: Who am I, where am I.

Logan Wright's reaction was so intense and vivid that Ethan Young couldn't help but let go of Henry Howard's sleeve and, unable to hold back, leaned to the side laughing.

"" Henry Howard scratched his hair, no longer in the mood to salvage the situation, not even knowing what to say, "Is it really that hard for these people to learn to trust?"

Ethan Young said, "Bro, I think you should learn to give up."

Next to the "Defy Fate" slogan on Class Three's blackboard, a countdown to the midterm exam had been added, making the whole class even more tense because of it.

Old Thompson had tried several times to persuade them to put down their textbooks and go out more: "Work and rest in balance, you need to take it easy with your studies too. You guys, day after day, don't even want to go to PE class anymore, what are you doing?"

However, the students of Class Three seemed to have iron wills; no matter how much Old Thompson tried, he couldn't move them.

On the day of the midterm, apart from Mad Dog shouting over the broadcast, "All classes, arrange your exam seats, go to your assigned exam rooms in half an hour," the only other sounds were the dragging of desks and chairs.

After two weeks of intense review, everyone in Class Three looked exhausted.

Luke Carter took a rag, wiped off the "1" on the blackboard, and then solemnly wrote a "0" at the end of the countdown.

"Everyone, hold steady," Luke Carter's eyes were ringed with the dark circles from two weeks of late nights. Though tired, there was a determined light in his eyes. "We can win."

Ethan Young dragged his desk and chair, feeling that their posture was less like a last stand and more like a boatload of passengers, about to be drowned by a flood, still desperately paddling on a broken boat before death.

Even though Ethan Young and Henry Howard had shown some improvement in the last two exams, they still couldn't escape the fate of taking the test in the last exam room.

The hallway was packed with people, all rushing to switch exam rooms, so crowded it was impossible to move.

"Last time you said you'd get first place," at the stairwell, after being stuck for half a minute, Henry Howard stopped and glanced at him, "Wanna compete?"

For the first subject, Chinese, Ethan Young only brought two pens, nothing else, not even bothering to bring an eraser, not caring at all about making mistakes on the answer sheet with nothing to erase them.

"Sure."

After Ethan Young replied, he lowered his head to turn off his phone. When he looked up again, Leonard Brooks and his group were just coming out of the restroom.

No one knew when Leonard Brooks had gotten his hair highlighted, but the few red streaks at his temples were especially eye-catching, and he reeked of smoke. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and he slouched with his hands in his pockets.

The broadcast kept repeating a few reminders.

The two groups glanced at each other, but in the end, no one said anything.

"All candidates, please go to your assigned exam rooms. All candidates, please go to your assigned exam rooms. There are ten minutes left before the exam starts, please watch the time."

"The first subject is Chinese."

"There are ten minutes left before the exam starts."

This time, the midterm exam papers were jointly written by several regular high schools in the city, and the difficulty was higher than in previous years.

The exam hadn't even started yet, and in the gathering place of underachievers, someone was already lying down to sleep. When the proctor entered the classroom, someone was even snoring.

The slow, drawn-out snores made the proctor suddenly stop in his tracks.

The proctor was an unfamiliar face, and he clearly had opinions about this exam room. As he counted the papers, he frowned and swept a glance at the students below: ""

The students below were doing all sorts of things; a few bold ones thought they were being sneaky, heads down fiddling with their phones.

Undisciplined, poor grades. That was the reputation of this exam room.

With the urgent sound of the exam bell, the proctor handed out the papers in groups, passing them from the front row to the back.

The one who was snoring was finally startled awake by the bell, wiped his mouth, and barely opened his eyes.

There was absolutely no tense exam atmosphere in this room.

Yet Ethan Young felt his throat a little dry.

As soon as he got the paper, he started writing his name with his elbow pressing on the exam sheet, while his other hand passed the remaining papers back.

He had just written two strokes of the character "谢".

Henry Howard reached out and took the exam paper from Ethan Young's hand.

------------

99. Chapter Ninety-Nine

"The exam officially begins, exam time is 120 minutes."

"Candidates, please note, do not bring any items unrelated to this exam."

The proctor paced slowly back and forth, accompanied by the broadcast.

Ethan Young finished writing his name and skimmed through the exam paper.

He had thought the difficulty would be about the same as the monthly exam, but unexpectedly saw two new types of questions.

Then he noticed that at the top, in the section for the exam setters, there were names of several teachers from other schools.

No. 2 High School took this exam very seriously. A joint exam among four schools, the results would directly affect each school's reputation—though No. 2 High never really had much reputation to speak of, their average scores just couldn't go up.

Even the final subject ranking sheet rarely had anyone who could break through into the top ranks.

"So, how's it going?" Ethan Young had only answered a few questions when Henry Howard poked him in the back with a pen. "How many points do you think you can get?"

"As many as I want."

After Ethan Young replied, he leaned back nonchalantly. "Scared? Beg me, and I might let you have two points."

There were constant little movements in the exam room; someone nearby tried to pass a note but missed, and it landed in the aisle.

Henry Howard held his pen in his left hand and lightly tapped Ethan Young on the back of the head. "You're pretty cocky, kid. You beg me, and I'll let you have twenty points."

The people in the last exam room were busy passing answers, completely unaware that the two bottom-ranked students in the corner were having a conversation so crazy it would leave men speechless and women in tears.

The only thing these people could write smoothly was their class, name, and exam number. After that, they started chewing on their pen caps, staring at the questions without understanding a word.

They soon noticed that the usual bottom-ranked student who always wailed "this question is so hard" with them was unusually quiet this time.

Without someone to wail with, it felt like something was missing during the exam. The student next to them woke up after a nap, saw Henry Howard still answering questions, and hesitantly asked, "Bro Henry, you seem to be in pretty good shape today?"

Henry Howard flipped his paper to the next page and replied casually, "Yeah, pretty good. No. 2 High should be proud to have a student like me."

""

The proctor had originally planned to turn a blind eye and couldn't be bothered with this exam room, but the commotion was getting louder and louder. He put down his book and coughed heavily. "Everyone quiet down."

That student swallowed his retort again.

He looked at Henry Howard, feeling he really couldn't understand this kind of almost blind confidence.

Ethan Young answered each question concisely. When he finished, he checked through the whole paper from start to finish, glanced at the clock on the wall, and figured he could sleep for about half an hour.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan Young saw Henry Howard still writing his essay, finishing up.

This guy's handwriting was usually all over the place, never serious when answering questions, always giving the impression he was just guessing. But now, he had put away that casualness, lowered his eyes, and was writing very seriously.

After the proctor's warning, the exam room was quiet for a few minutes, then those passing answers continued: "Give me the answers, from now on my life is yours, Big Bro, I'm begging you, have mercy."

"Don't cut in line, what's the rush. Even in this exam room, there's an order to copying answers—wait, bro, never seen you before, are you new?"

""

Ethan Young didn't pay attention to what Henry Howard was writing in his essay. As he lay on his arms with his eyes closed, he listened to the group next to him chatting nonsense, and suddenly remembered the essay Henry Howard wrote last semester, "Back View".

Answers had been passed in this exam room.

Racking their brains to see how far off-topic they could go, how to write a perfect zero-point essay.

They had also held hands.

Like a strange and absurd dream.

As Ethan Young thought about this, he drifted off to sleep, vaguely hearing Manager Jensen on the broadcast: "Fifteen minutes left before the end of the exam, please manage your time well."

All the answers had been passed around, and the 120 minutes in the exam room felt especially long. Everyone in the underachievers' corner gradually quieted down, dropped their pens, and left their fate to chance, with most of them falling asleep.