Lucky asked the first student in each row to pass their test papers back, then stood at the podium to summarize the results of this weekly exam: “The total score for Chinese is 160 points. Our class’s average this time is 109. Do you know what that means? It means it’s only 5 points higher than your 120-point Physics average. Are you kidding me?”

The whole class was as quiet as a mouse.

These top students, who are so fierce in math, physics, and chemistry, become meek as lambs when facing Lucky and Grace Reed.

Actually, as the honors class, Class A doesn’t have serious subject imbalances, otherwise their total scores wouldn’t add up. But comparatively, their Chinese and English grades aren’t as impressive as the other three subjects, and every now and then they make the teachers so angry that smoke comes out of their ears.

“Yes, this test was indeed a bit harder. The essay was easy to go off-topic, and the second reading passage had a very low average score across the whole grade. As for poetry appreciation... forget it, I don’t expect much from you there. But you can’t just make things up, right?”

“I’d like to especially praise the new student. Even though he just transferred and isn’t on the same schedule, his fundamentals are very solid. I remember he didn’t lose a single point on poetry appreciation and reading, and his essay was beautifully written—”

Everyone likes a good-looking guy, and even more so if he has good grades. Lucky was generous with her praise, going on and on.

William Bennett’s soul was dancing, but he kept a basic level of composure and calm on his face. He leaned back in his chair, his pen twirling between his middle and ring fingers, lightly tapping the test paper.

He was basking in the praise when Lucky suddenly turned to him and added, “But your handwriting, you really should practice a bit. It doesn’t have to be beautiful, just try to make the characters stand up straight, not crawl.”

William Bennett: “……”

The boys in the class burst out laughing, while the girls were a bit more reserved—several lowered their heads, blushing as they laughed, then took the chance to sneak a look back at him amid the commotion.

Lucky slapped the desk: “What are you laughing at? You think you have the right to laugh? For this essay, I dare say only he and the class rep wrote something that could be considered a high score. What were the rest of you doing? And some of you, pay attention: the prompt asked for a lyrical essay—can you be a little more emotional? Don’t write it like a dry math proof, can you add a little feeling? I won’t name names, right Edward Harris?”

William Bennett suddenly remembered the “Guide to Writing Lyrical Essays” that Edward Harris brought back this morning, and couldn’t help but laugh. The class erupted in laughter again.

He glanced sideways. The criticized Classmate Harris himself looked calm, though it was hard to tell if he was truly aloof or just pretending to save face.

Lucky delivered ten minutes of precise criticism before finally starting to go over the test paper. Even then, she didn’t forget to single out certain students for another round of roasting.

When she got to the reading questions, she looked up and scanned the room, then called out: “Edward Harris.”

William Bennett heard a chair creak as the person behind him stood up.

“Look at question one. What should you choose?” Lucky asked.

After a whole class, William Bennett already knew this teacher’s style—whoever got it wrong, got called out.

Maybe it was in response to that sticky note, or maybe he just wanted to show off, but William Bennett subconsciously slid his test paper a bit to the left.

He got all the reading questions right, so Edward Harris could see the answers just by glancing down. As long as he wasn’t blind, he’d know the answer to question one was C.

William Bennett glanced at Edward Harris, just in time to meet his gaze. He immediately sat up straight, but felt a bit relieved—this meant Edward Harris had seen the paper.

But the next second, he heard Edward Harris say, “A.”

William Bennett: “???”

As expected, Lucky glared: “A? Look again, what’s the right answer?”

William Bennett slid his paper a bit further to the left, only to hear Edward Harris calmly change his answer: “D.”

He couldn’t help but glance over—this guy had marked “B” on his own paper.

William Bennett: “……”

Are you doing this on purpose???

Author’s note: Extra update, mwah~ Thank you to the little angels who gave me “霸王票” or watered me with nutrient solution~

Thank you all so much for your support, I’ll keep working hard!

Chapter 9: Free Feast

The morning classes flew by.

When Lucky got to the last model essay, Samuel Wright suddenly leaned back, pressing his back against William Bennett’s desk and whispered, “Lucky doesn’t run overtime.”

“Hm?” William Bennett leaned forward, puzzled. “So what if she doesn’t run overtime?”

“Then we can head to the cafeteria right on time,” Samuel Wright said. “Friendly reminder: figure out where the cafeteria is first. The moment the bell rings, run for it. That way you can grab one of the only two edible dishes.”

A question mark slowly appeared on William Bennett’s face. “Why do we have to run? Didn’t we just walk there yesterday?”

“You said it yourself, that was yesterday.” Samuel Wright sighed. “Starting today, the good days are over. The freshmen have started school too, so there are twice as many people fighting for food.”

Samuel Wright wagged his finger. “Life is tough, you’ll see for yourself soon. Those freshmen run faster than dogs.”

Before William Bennett could reply, Lucky suddenly knocked on the podium: “Samuel Wright!”

William Bennett immediately straightened up, touching his nose, while the person in front had already stood up sheepishly.