And his personality was already withdrawn to begin with; he couldn’t get along with his peers, and with all this endless skipping of grades, will he ever learn how to interact with others in this lifetime?

It sounds impressive to be called a “child prodigy” when you’re young, but everyone grows up eventually. When that day comes, he’ll be neither a “child” nor a “prodigy,” yet still won’t have learned how to be a decent person—who will care about him then?

Unfortunately, there are always ignorant parents and foolish public opinion obsessed with “IQ worship,” and no one listens to that teacher’s heartfelt, brutally honest words.

This time, Brian Cooper transferred to No. 6 High School from another city precisely because No. 6 has a policy: students in the second year of high school, if recommended by the school, can take the college entrance exam that year. When he transferred, his parents made it clear—they came here for this policy.

All things considered, Brian Cooper might only stay in this class for a single semester, just as a temporary stop. As long as he doesn’t cause any big trouble, the teacher really doesn’t need to bother with him.

And judging by Eric Cooper’s attitude, Heather felt he was quite proud of his smart son, and might even think she, the homeroom teacher, was just making trouble for nothing—imagine, even a shopping card wasn’t enough to satisfy her.

Parents like this all think—so long as the grades are good, isn’t that enough?

Heather rubbed her temples, feeling that next week, no matter what, she had to talk to Brian Cooper’s parents. If his father couldn’t come, then his mother had to—there’s no way a mother can ignore her child’s future.

Friday evening is the happiest time at school—even if there’s so much homework it’s spilling out of your backpack.

David Wright and the others all gathered around William Carter, noisily discussing where to hang out over the weekend, their voices so loud that even the overheated headphones couldn’t block them out.

Brian Cooper shot a gloomy glance at William Carter’s back, grabbed his backpack, and left through the back door, the split at the corner of his mouth stinging like a needle.

The back door slammed shut behind him with a bang. David Wright glanced at Brian Cooper’s desk and whispered in William Carter’s ear, “Xiao Linzi, what do you say? Should we teach that kid a lesson?”

William Carter frowned, knowing that what David Wright meant by “teach a lesson” wasn’t anything ordinary.

David Wright was a boarding student—No. 6 High wasn’t a boarding school, and the dorm conditions weren’t great. Most students who lived far away, if they could, rented apartments nearby.

Because there were so few female boarders, for safety, the school had them all move to the staff dorms. As a result, the dorm building became an all-boys’ dorm, and the management got lax, gradually forming a very unique “ecosystem.”

No. 6 High was the top key school in the city. To get by in class, besides being sociable and loyal, you also needed decent grades. Everyone played around, but there were boundaries—even if there were grudges, at most a group would ostracize someone, but nothing major would happen.

But the dorms were a completely different story.

In the dorms lived student athletes who had to train morning and night, poor students from remote districts, and repeaters recruited from other schools. They naturally formed several cliques, with overlaps and friction between them. The relationships were extremely complicated, and conflicts simmered everywhere, gradually leading to a climate of gang-like factions.

Things like locking someone in the bathroom all night were already considered routine. Most victims didn’t dare speak up; as long as an ambulance wasn’t called, the teachers remained clueless.

David Wright propped one hand on the back of William Carter’s chair, a hint of youthful arrogance on his face. “If someone like that stayed in our room, he’d be tamed in three days. Make him bark like a dog and he wouldn’t dare squeak—believe it or not?”

Chapter 6: Undercurrents

During the day, David Wright hung out with William Carter and the others in class and got along well. His home was far away, and William Carter would sometimes bring him food to the dorm to improve his meals. Over time, he became acquainted with the group of student athletes. Those guys were always polite to William Carter, greeting him when they met. When they weren’t training, David Wright would sometimes pull them in to make up numbers for basketball, and they’d even gone out to eat together.

But overall, William Carter wasn’t close to them, nor did he have any conflicts—he kept to himself and minded his own business.

He had indeed heard some rumors from the dorm area, but since he hadn’t seen anything with his own eyes, it wasn’t his place to pry or ask David Wright about it.

William Carter glanced at Brian Cooper’s desk. Most people, because their stuff was too heavy, would only take home what they needed unless it was winter or summer break or exam time. Most books and belongings were left in the classroom. Only Brian Cooper’s desk was completely empty—not even a scrap of paper left behind, as if no one had ever used it.

Carrying a backpack weighing over ten kilos every day… That’s just sick thinking.

Who would even want to touch his pile of junk anyway?

William Carter asked offhandedly, “How would you ‘teach him a lesson’? Beat him up?”

David Wright gave a slight laugh, like someone harboring a secret superpower. He was used to being on the fringes in class, but at this moment, all that “marginality” seemed to have found a reasonable explanation, all beautified as “standing out from the crowd.”

“Beating him up is too easy on him,” the “outstanding” David Wright said lightly.

Suddenly, William Carter felt a bit annoyed by David Wright’s attitude and didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking, “If you’re so tough, how come when those loan sharks were blocking Henry Clark outside, you never stepped up?”