Time passed.
In the blink of an eye, more than a week had gone by, leaving fifty-nine days until the college entrance exam.
It was early April, and the climate was gradually warming. Sunlight bathed the campus of Riverdale Experimental High School, filling it with a lazy warmth.
It was noon.
Some students, having just finished lunch, returned to campus from outside, preparing to take a nap in their classrooms. Others who ordered lunch at school spent the midday break wandering the campus.
In a secluded part of the campus.
This was the northeast corner of the campus, where many trees had been transplanted. The purpose was twofold: to beautify and green the environment, and to block out the noise from vehicles on the road outside.
"Xiao Meng, there's a math test this afternoon. How's your preparation going?"
"It's alright."
"Hmph, you good students are always so modest. Your grades are amazing, yet you insist on being humble."
The two girls strolled side by side.
They were Zhang Meng from Class Twelve, Grade Three, and her desk mate—a short-haired girl. They wandered the campus together to relieve the stress of studying.
"Hehe."
Zhang Meng covered her mouth and laughed softly: "That genius in our class, first in the grade for Chinese, loses only three or four points each exam. But do you remember how he evaluates his own Chinese scores?"
The short-haired girl was taken aback.
Zhang Meng stopped walking, shook her head, sighed softly, and pretended to look desolate: "I did terribly this time."
"Hahaha."
The short-haired girl laughed so hard she held onto Zhang Meng's fragrant shoulder, her cheeks reddening, nearly laughing to tears.
Zhang Meng smiled with pursed lips.
She was just being normally modest; it was that genius in their class who took humility to an extreme.