Chapter 12: The Results Are Out

In the more than twenty days following the exam, Li Yifei’s days were completely consumed by two things: reading and monitoring the market.

At dawn, he was already seated at his desk. Outside, the occasional chirp of birds broke the silence; inside, only the rustling of turning pages filled the air.

Books on finance, economics, futures trading—thick volumes spread out before him. Terms and charts that once seemed distant and tedious now held him captive, like magnets drawing his gaze relentlessly.

Each time he grasped a model or understood a strategy, a sense of reassurance grew within him. This pure fulfillment from absorbing knowledge was something he had never experienced in his past aimless life.

The glow from the computer screen often lasted from early morning until late at night. The principal of over one million yuan in his futures account was the fulcrum with which he would leverage his future.

Twenty times leverage hovered like a double-edged sword above him. Behind the lure of high returns lay the abyss of liquidation and total loss.

He dared not relax an inch. Like a stalking leopard, he fixed his eyes on every twitch of the soybean futures market.

Each time he placed an order, his finger hovered over the mouse with his heart in his throat; each price fluctuation sent the numbers in his account swinging wildly, cold sweat never drying on his back.

He feared that a sudden, sharp reversal would trigger a forced liquidation.

Fortunately, the vague memories from his past life acted like a tattered map, and the hard-earned knowledge he had recently swallowed helped him maintain a clear grasp of the market’s rhythm.

The three million yuan principal was like a snowball, slowly swelling amid thrilling volatility. Sweat soaked his T-shirt, eyes strained from staring, until the account balance finally climbed laboriously above eight million.

Staring at the still-fluctuating figure on the screen, Li Yifei exhaled deeply and leaned back heavily in his wooden chair, which creaked faintly under the weight.

His heartbeat pounded as if he had just sprinted a hundred meters. That was enough, he told himself. The market sentiment was overheated; pressing further greed might one day lead to a painful bite back. Resolutely, he began to close positions in batches, pocketing the floating profits.

When the last order was confirmed and the total assets on the account settled at nine million, a wave of exhaustion surged through him, followed by immense relief. Money sitting in the account was real money.

This sum was astronomical for him and his family. But there was no time to slack off. Money idling in the account would only depreciate. He had to set it in motion.

His next target was clear: Aluminum Corporation of China. He remembered distinctly that this stock would experience a strong rally in the near future, easily doubling or tripling in value.

But throwing nine million in all at once? That would be like dropping a bomb onto a calm lake, instantly disturbing the big fish beneath, disrupting the rhythm, and possibly trapping himself at a high point.

He needed to enter the market quietly, like a drop of water merging with the sea.

At the market open the next day, he transformed into countless “retail investors.” Sitting at his computer, he became a precise instrument, breaking down nine million yuan into numerous small buy orders—dozens, tens, even just a few shares—blended into the surging flood of retail trades.

He watched the order book changes intently, fingers flying over the keyboard, placing, canceling, and placing orders again, patiently nibbling away at his position.

The candlestick chart on screen flickered slightly, trading volume expanded gently; everything looked like natural market behavior. The entire trading day, his nerves remained taut, barely managing a few hurried bites at lunch.

When the market closed and he saw a full position in Aluminum Corporation of China stock, a dull ache crept into his shoulders, but the stone in his heart finally settled.

These days, he ran like a wound-up machine, his mind filled with candlestick charts and financial models. The college entrance exam results were completely forgotten.

***

One evening at dinner, the aroma of home-cooked dishes filled the air. His mother was serving him food and casually asked, “Xiaofei, it’s already past the twentieth. Isn’t it almost time to check your exam results?”

Li Yifei paused mid-bite, rice lingering at his lips. Only then did he sharply realize—it was indeed just a matter of days.

He swallowed and replied vaguely, “Yeah, Mom, maybe in the next couple of days. I’ll call to check when the time comes.” He paused, set down his bowl, and looked seriously at his parents, whose faces bore the marks of time. “By the way, Dad, Mom, I want to talk to you about something. No matter how I do, let’s not hold any celebration party, okay?”

Old Li, raising his wine glass, froze mid-motion. His mother looked puzzled: “Why? This is good news! Neighbors, relatives, friends...”

“Mom,” Li Yifei interrupted softly but clearly, “It’s not that I don’t understand social graces. It’s just that these days, some relationships are too complicated. We just need to live our own lives well.

From now on, except for especially close grandparents on both sides, let’s keep our distance from other relatives. Just keeping up appearances is enough. It’s not necessary.”

His words sounded somewhat harsh, but he could not forget the past life. When the family was struggling, those so-called relatives avoided them like the plague.

Later, when the family’s situation improved, various “concerns” and requests for loans emerged like flies attracted to blood. If not for his parents’ attachment to their homeland and old acquaintances, he would have taken them far away to start anew in a place where no one knew them.

But now was not the time. The three million in his account could not be revealed to his parents—the source of that money was too “suspicious” for them to understand and would only cause them worry.

He planned to say after a while that it came from writing online novels, enough to cover the family’s expenses and put their minds at ease.

Old Li silently sipped his wine, the bitter liquid sliding down his throat. He looked at his son’s calm yet resolute eyes, then at his wife’s puzzled expression.

Since high school, this child had become especially determined and saw things more clearly than they did. Old Li finally put down his glass, wiped the rough hand along the table edge, and muttered, “Alright, we’ll do as you say. We’ll just keep to ourselves.”

The day to check the results arrived. Before dawn had fully broken, Li Yifei was awake. Outside, the sky was gray and hazy.

He picked up the landline phone, fingers slightly cold. In his past life, the score hotline was always busy, so this time he made sure to call early.

The monotonous prompt came through the receiver. He entered his admission ticket number step by step, waiting as the ticking seconds sounded like hammer blows on his heart. To say he wasn’t nervous would be a lie; this was a crucial step in changing his fate.

Finally, a clear, electronic female voice announced, slowly and distinctly:

“Candidate name: Li Yifei. Chinese: 148 points. Mathematics: 150 points. English: 150 points. Science: Physics 150 points, Chemistry 150 points. Total score: 748 points.”

The phone was on speaker, and the voice sounded especially loud in the quiet morning.

With a clatter, his mother dropped the cloth she was wiping the table with. The glass of water his father held wobbled, splashing his shirt front.

They stood frozen in place, eyes wide, mouths slightly open, unable to utter a sound. Seven hundred forty-eight points? They thought they must have misheard; their ears buzzed.

Li Yifei put down the phone, the voice still seeming to echo in the room.

His expression was calm, without exaggeration, but he exhaled long and quietly, his tense shoulders finally relaxing. After countless sleepless nights, this result felt utterly natural.

“Dad, Mom, now you can rest easy,” he said steadily, looking at his still-dazed parents. “With this score, I should be the top scorer in the province.

We need to seriously discuss what I said before. From now on, we have to lay the groundwork for the future.”

Old Li snapped back to reality, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded heavily, eyes reddening.

He reached out and patted Li Yifei’s shoulder with a heavy hand. “Good! Good, son! Your old man didn’t raise you for nothing! We may not understand as much as you do or be of much help, but we won’t hold you back!

You... just go forward!” His mother then let out a cry, tears streaming freely as she laughed through them.

Sure enough, the news of the 748 points exploded like a bomb, instantly igniting the entire county. The phone at home rang incessantly, nearly blowing out the line.

The first call came from the school. The homeroom teacher’s voice trembled with excitement, the joy audible even through the phone: “Li Yifei! Well done! The top scorer!

Seven hundred forty-eight points! My goodness! The principal is right here; he wants to speak to you!” Then the principal’s loud but trembling voice: “Li Yifei, you are the pride of our No.1 High School! No, the pride of the entire county!

Good news: our No.2 High School just merged with Yucai over the summer and moved to a new campus, renamed ‘New No.1 High School’! You, as top scorer, are the brightest opening salvo for the new school!

The school is preparing a celebration for you! You must come back!”

Li Yifei held the phone, imagining the excitement in the office on the other end.

He calmly expressed his thanks and arranged a time to return to school. Just after hanging up, the phone rang again—reporters, relatives, his parents’ old colleagues, distant relatives—one call after another, unending.

Li Yifei, overwhelmed, handed the phone to his parents. “Dad, Mom, just tell them I’m out and don’t know where I am.”

The couple awkwardly answered, fumbling through the envious or inquisitive questions with the same few phrases: "Ah, did pretty well... went out, don’t know where... yes, thanks for your concern..."

Li Yifei locked himself back in his room, finally at peace. He opened his computer and logged into his novel’s backend.

Though most of his energy had gone into investing lately, he hadn’t abandoned writing entirely. The trilogy he conceived had its first part completed, and a third of the second part uploaded. The results exceeded his expectations, with cumulative earnings approaching 800,000 yuan.

This money was clean and legitimate, perfect for covering some visible expenses and giving his parents peace of mind.

Once the trilogy was finished, the ongoing subscription and copyright income would be a steady, gentle stream of revenue. Leaning back in his chair and watching the subscription numbers tick upward, he felt a deep gratitude for this second chance.

The crown of top scorer was firmly placed on his head. Aluminum Corporation of China stock lay quietly in his account, awaiting its moment. His novel income flowed continuously. The road ahead seemed clearer and wider than ever.

Now, all that remained was to choose a top university, where he would begin the next crucial chapter of his life. Slowly but surely, he would turn the long-cherished plans in his heart into reality.

Outside, the cicadas began their noisy chorus. Another scorching day had dawned.