Chapter 21 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

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The Competition

 

 

His fingertips pressed deeply into his palm, and the sharp pain seemed to soothe the ache in his heart—the ache of joy and sorrow intertwined.

 

"Do you like it?" Zong Que asked.

 

"Mm." Lin Heng gave a soft reply. He took a few deep breaths, then carefully removed the protective cover and examined the material.

"Is this made of wood?"

 

"Pine," said Zong Que.

 

The craftsmanship was exquisite. From the outside, there wasn't a single nail in sight. It looked like it had been assembled perfectly, piece by piece.

 

"You even know architectural design?" Lin Heng asked, surprised.

 

"I've looked into it a little—just for fun," Zong Que replied.

 

Naturally, he would find hobbies to fill the quiet hours between missions, and making things like this had a way of calming the heart.

 

"I really like it," Lin Heng said, voice weighted with emotion. "Truly."

 

Every piece of the model had been carved and assembled by Zong Que's hands. Lin Heng couldn't imagine how much time and care had gone into it.

 

He hadn't expected Zong Que to prepare a gift so seriously—so seriously that his own gesture in comparison felt almost careless.

 

"As long as you like it," Zong Que said.

 

[Host, Qian Hai and the others have left town,] 1314 offered a friendly reminder. [The crisis is over.]

 

[Mm, thank you,] Zong Que replied.

 

But it was only a temporary reprieve. He'd still need to remain cautious moving forward.

 

—

 

The competition prep classes began, and their schedule returned to the rhythm of regular school life.

 

Lin Heng had entered the physics competition class, while Zong Que had joined the biology competition class.

 

Of the five major academic competitions, a first prize could grant a direct admission to university—no exams required.

 

First Hight had always been top-tier in the sciences, especially math and physics. As such, the math and physics prep classes were the largest. Biology, being more niche, had fewer students, which allowed Zong Que to enter under special consideration.

 

But regardless of how you got the opportunity—once it was in your hands, you had to hold on tight.

 

These competitions weren't won in a single round. Many top students had been competing since elementary or middle school and were miles ahead of the newcomers.

 

If First Hight had gathered the brightest students from the city and surrounding areas, then the competition classes were the elite of that elite—one moment of carelessness, and the gap would show.

 

The students threw themselves into study, day and night, sacrificing sleep and meals.

 

Even though the maid at Lin Heng's home prepared hearty dishes, it was still obvious that he'd lost some weight.

 

[Host, I'll try not to give you a school-life route next time,] 1314 said, sounding a little guilty.

 

Even a system like it felt worn out just watching.

 

[It's fine. You have to study wherever you go,] Zong Que replied calmly.

 

Even as a task-bearer, lifelong learning was essential. If you couldn't become irreplaceable, you risked being left behind. That was true anywhere—and he disliked falling behind even more than he hated letting others dictate his fate.

 

[Oh! Host, you're amazing!] 1314 cheered.

 

What a divine host—miles better than a lazy system like itself that only watched dramas during downtime.

 

But hey, a system's true talent lay in picking good hosts. If you couldn't pick well, you'd just have to work yourself to death!

 

—

 

After more than a month of effort, the first round of the physics competition arrived just as the school term resumed—soon followed by the math competition.

 

Not a single First High student was eliminated in the first round.

 

The competitions rolled out one after another. Even though regular schoolwork had wound down, Lin Heng and Zong Que, now living together, only exchanged brief greetings before and after sleep. All other time was spent on study.

 

The national level of the physics competition took place in December. By that stage, many students had already been eliminated, and among those who remained, Lin Heng stood out by far.

 

He won a Provincial First Prize, securing a spot at one of First High's partner universities. But to truly choose the university and major of his dreams, he would need the National Gold.

 

The weather turned frigid, every breath hanging in the air like mist.

 

The biology competition was now underway, taking the two of them down different paths once more.

 

"When I get back, I'll treat you to a good meal," Lin Heng said with a smile.

 

"Alright," Zong Que replied.

 

The competition itself passed quickly, but the wait for results was nerve-wracking.

 

And then, on the day of the season's first snow, the results were finally announced.

 

One National Gold, three National Silvers, and five National Bronzes.

 

That single National Gold belonged to Lin Heng.

 

For most students, a Provincial First was already a dream come true. But National Gold—that was a title bestowed only on the most brilliant minds in the country. The future was limitless.

 

The classroom erupted in applause. Lin Heng stood up, a bit dazed, and said, "Thank you, everyone."

 

Provincial awards were common at First High, but a National Gold was a rare jewel. The school alone awarded him hundreds of thousands in prize money, and both city and province celebrated the achievement. The campus lit up with decorations, and students flooded in to witness it.

 

But Lin Heng seemed unaffected by the fuss—he continued going to class as usual.

 

"Not happy?" Zong Que asked as they walked home together after school.

 

"I am," Lin Heng said, exhaling into the crisp night air. "This was the goal I set from the start."

 

After the snowfall, the winter sky cleared, and the stars shone with piercing clarity—reflected in the boy's eyes like gentle ripples, dazzling and brilliant.

 

"It just doesn't feel real," Lin Heng said with a laugh, watching the mist of his breath fade. "Too many people congratulating me—if I act too happy, it'll seem like I'm showing off."

 

"There's no one else around now," Zong Que said, glancing back at the quiet campus behind them.

 

They had both worked hard for these competitions. And though the school environment came with its inconveniences, Zong Que had stayed at Lin Heng's home throughout—partly for convenience, and partly for protection, just in case.

 

Half a year had passed peacefully, and in that time, he'd truly experienced a student's life: full, challenging, and quietly joyful.

 

Lin Heng turned to look at him, a storm quietly rising in his heart. "Zong Que."

 

"Mm," Zong Que replied.

 

"Let's have a snowball fight. If you win, I'll lend you my luck," Lin Heng said with a grin.

 

"No need," Zong Que replied.

 

"Mm?" Lin Heng blinked in surprise.

 

"Competitions aren't about luck," Zong Que said.

 

Lin Heng paused for a beat, then broke into a wide, delighted laugh—so bright that even the starlight in his eyes seemed on the verge of spilling over. "Then… will you go easy on me?"

 

"No," Zong Que replied simply.

 

"Then I won't hold back either." Lin Heng lifted his chin, full of spirit, and headed toward their neighborhood.

 

Snowballs flew back and forth—some hit trees, others vanished into bushes. The game grew wilder, and before long, they were throwing handfuls of snow without form or aim. No one knew who had kicked the tree, but a moment later, a cascade of snow fell like an avalanche, covering both of them from head to toe.

 

Snow clung to their hair and lashes. Brushing the snow off, Lin Heng looked at Zong Que, equally drenched and messy, and laughed. "Isn't this what they call 'hurting the enemy a thousand, wounding yourself eight hundred'?"

 

"Mm." Zong Que dusted himself off.

 

"Let me help you," Lin Heng said, stepping closer to brush the snow from Zong Que's collar and hood. But as his fingers moved, he hesitated at the sight of Zong Que's unguarded expression—then mischievously pinched a bit of snow and slipped it down the back of his neck.

 

The sudden chill sent a jolt down his spine. Zong Que spun around and caught the mischievous hand before Lin Heng could escape.

 

But Lin Heng had moved too quickly. The snow, soft on top and packed below, was slippery, and his momentum sent him tipping backward. Just as he was about to hit the ground, a hand caught the back of his head—and another person landed on top of him.

 

The sudden warmth of overlapping bodies, their tangled breaths, made Lin Heng's heart stop for a beat.

 

Zong Que propped himself up, eyes meeting Lin Heng's at close distance. Deep, dark, and filled with concern.

 

Lin Heng held his breath. The burning in his chest flared, hot enough to be frightening.

 

"Zong Que…"

 

"Are you alright?" Zong Que asked as he stood and offered his hand.

 

"I'm fine." Lin Heng took it, and Zong Que's grip tightened slightly. Though damp with melting snow, his hand was warm. "The snow was thick—I didn't hit anything. What about you?"

 

"I'm fine," Zong Que said, rotating his wrist slightly after letting go.

 

He had only meant to protect Lin Heng's head. The snow cushioned the fall—it was cold, but not painful.

 

"That's good," Lin Heng said, brushing snow off his coat. He took a deep breath and smiled. "Thanks for saving me. I guess that means… you win this round."

 

He couldn't say anything more—not now. His results were already in, but Zong Que's were not. He couldn't disturb the other's state of mind, just as Zong Que had let him release his joy without pressure.

 

"Let's go back," Zong Que said, turning around.

 

"Alright." Lin Heng followed. "I'll be joining the national team soon, so I won't be at school much. You have to stay sharp for your competition—don't slack off."

 

If Zong Que couldn't secure a recommendation through the competition, he would have to wait another year.

 

"Don't worry," Zong Que replied.

 

"Mm," Lin Heng said with a smile.

 

With the national gold under his belt, Lin Heng secured a recommendation to S University and, just as he said, joined the national team. His presence at school became increasingly rare.

 

Winter gave way to spring. As the new term began, results for the math competition were announced—Liao Yan received first prize and a direct admission to C University.

 

April brought Zong Que's final round. It was both unexpected and inevitable.

 

Ever since placing in the top ten during the end-of-term exams, everyone had been predicting his fall from grace. But not only did he hold his ground—he surged ahead, breaking into the top five, and climbing with every exam.

 

Once Lin Heng stopped participating in tests, Zong Que firmly took the number one spot.

 

Some murmured, "He wouldn't have made it if Lin Heng hadn't helped him," or "He'd never be first if Lin Heng were still here." But the facts were undeniable.

 

"Zong Que, come out for a moment," the homeroom teacher called from the doorway.

 

Zong Que stood up. Several heads turned to glance his way. Liao Yan, even with his admission secured, remained in class, his gaze complicated as he watched Zong Que leave.

 

The boy he once considered a waste of potential had used nothing but results to slap him in the face. Yes, Lin Heng had helped him—but there was no denying Zong Que's own strength.

 

"Teacher." Zong Que stopped in front of the instructor.

 

"The biology competition is almost here. I didn't want to pressure you too much," the teacher said, eyes scanning the boy's grown, striking features—steady and mature. Who would have thought the student she once couldn't reach would grow into someone so accomplished? But the past was the past. "Biology is easier compared to physics and math, which means the threshold for a recommendation is higher. Your past fights are still on record. To qualify for the university you want, you'll have to place in the top fifty. Do you understand?"

 

"I understand," Zong Que answered.

 

The biology competition was a new challenge for him. This was a battle he had to give everything to.

 

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