Chapter 11: How Could It Be Possible?

It was the end of August; the late summer heat still lingered, the sun blazing so fiercely it was hard to open one’s eyes, and the neck felt as if it were being roasted over a fire.

Lin Sicheng dashed to the base of a wall and beckoned backward. “Aren’t you all hot?”

They were.

But compared to the shock in their hearts, the sweltering heat was utterly insignificant.

In this society, in this era, the ultimate measure of a man’s ability and earning power was paramount, without exception.

To draw a comparison: Li Zhen was a teaching assistant, earning sixteen hundred a month—less than twenty thousand a year.

Yet in the field of cultural heritage studies, her position was enough to make ninety-nine percent of her senior peers green with envy.

What about Lin Sicheng?

One feather duster was worth eighty thousand; how much would four be?

There was simply no comparison.

What troubled Li Zhen most was the stark contrast between rumor and reality.

Rumor had it that Lin Sicheng frequently took leave, skipped classes, failed several subjects each semester—worse than a poor student.

But in reality, a mere flick of Lin Sicheng’s hand equaled the hard work of a top student like her over ten or twenty years.

The impact was overwhelming, the feelings profound, and her mind was in disarray.

She couldn’t think any further—if she did, she might start doubting life itself.

She took a deep breath and gently patted Xiao Yuzhu.

“Ah, senior?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about that expert Sheng: no wonder he was so kind, warning Lin Sicheng that something was wrong—it turns out he wanted to trick him out of the Buddha statue?”

Li Zhen was momentarily stunned. “That’s not what I thought at all.”

“Yuzhu, he made three hundred thousand!”

“I know, but the shock was so deep and bewildering that it didn’t even feel strange anymore. Like that expert: no matter how much of a fraud he might be, his expert status can’t be fake, right? So why didn’t he see the value of that Buddha statue after examining it for so long, while Lin Sicheng barely used it for three minutes?”

Li Zhen had no answer.

Whenever she thought of Lin Sicheng’s age, it felt unreal.

“Maybe he’s just naturally gifted.”

“And his studies? His grandfather is a professor, after all.”

“Didn’t he say he went off track? He focused too much on appraisal-related electives and neglected the core subjects!”

Xiao Yuzhu pondered for a moment: that seemed the only explanation.

They walked intermittently, whispering to each other, and by the time they reached the shade, a fine sweat had formed on their foreheads.

“Starving to death—what should we eat?” Lin Sicheng fanned himself with his hand. “But first, I’m not eating at Little Shell!”

Firstly, the food wasn’t good.

Secondly, if he went to Little Shell, this girl would probably have to live on air for the next month.

Xiao Yuzhu looked baffled. “You can still eat?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Three hundred thousand in your pocket, and I’m worried about how you’ll spend it. How do you plan to use it?”

“How else?” Lin Sicheng scoffed. “Buy a house, and it’s all gone!”

Right—good locations in Xijing were almost four thousand per square meter!

Thinking this way, even though Lin Sicheng had earned three hundred thousand, it was just about enough.

---

Xiao Yuzhu stopped worrying immediately. “I want to eat lamb stew with bread, but you have to treat me, or I won’t sleep tonight.”

“I’ll treat you, but can we eat something better?”

“Add a portion of cold cuts!”

“Tch, ambitious!”

Xiao Yuzhu clenched her fists tightly.

“Are you coming tomorrow?”

“No time tomorrow!”

He had to find a place to live.

The previous rental was too small and uncomfortable.

Besides, he was going to accumulate more and more items; he couldn’t always sell them immediately or take them home. He needed a secure place.

It couldn’t be too far from school—ideally, right on campus.

But that would be hard to rent.

While pondering this, Lin Sicheng reached out his hand, and a taxi stopped by the curb.

“Driver, Tong Shengxiang!”

…

The lamb stew was delicious, but the portion was too small.

The bowls were as large as a person’s head; Lin Sicheng finished three servings and nearly made Li Zhen and Xiao Yuzhu drop their jaws.

He didn’t remember ever having such a big appetite in his previous life.

No, it wasn’t that he forgot—it was absolutely not this large.

It seemed his memory had also improved.

He even vividly recalled being punished by his mother as a child for playing with a lighter with Gu Ming.

Perhaps this was a benefit of reincarnation?

Lost in these thoughts, Lin Sicheng stepped through the school gates.

…

Heritage College, Administration Building.

Wang Qizhi surveyed his new office.

It was spacious, equipped with computers and furniture, and even had a brand-new treadmill.

Two teachers stood behind him, one male and one female, both around thirty years old.

After a moment’s thought, he decided to be straightforward:

“Teacher Ding, I’m new here and inexperienced, so please take care of the work on the Youth League Committee. Also, since this is only a part-time position, my main focus will still be on teaching. So if you think it necessary, you can report directly to Secretary Zhang.”

The male teacher was momentarily taken aback: even if it was a part-time position, the rank was solid.

Having worked in the college Youth League Committee for years, it was the first time he’d seen a new leader planning to quit right after taking office.

But he kept this thought to himself and quickly responded, “Understood, Secretary Wang!”

Wang Qizhi smiled gently. “Good, then you get to work.”

Teacher Ding took her leave and closed the door behind her.

Listening to her footsteps fading upstairs, Wang Qizhi waved and said, “Let’s go!”

“Secretary Wang, where to?”

“Don’t call me Secretary anymore; it sounds awkward. Call me Professor or Teacher!”

Wang Qizhi headed straight outside. “To the teaching building—to ask Secretary Chen about this week’s class schedule.”

---

“Ah!” The newly assigned female teaching assistant looked confused. “Professor Wang, are you really going to teach?”

Wang Qizhi looked completely natural. “I’m a researcher—what else would I do if not teach students?”

It was his own fault for not clarifying beforehand: he disliked administrative work, which was why he had been transferred from Baoji. Had he known about this part-time role, he would have reconsidered.

But his organizational affiliation had already been transferred; regretting it now was too late.

He had to find another way.

Thinking this over, he left the administration building, the female assistant trailing behind him in a daze.

The weather was fine, the sun bright.

Dew covered the locust tree leaves; the air was slightly humid, carrying the crisp coolness unique to early autumn. Sparrows hopped about, pecking at cypress seeds scattered by the wind.

Groups of students bustled about, full of vitality and youthful energy.

Wang Qizhi took a deep breath: school was still the best place.

If only he could just do research and teach.

After a moment of aimless sighing, Wang Qizhi considered how to present his case to the academic affairs office.

His demands were modest: first, to arrange a few open classes to gain experience, and to apply for research projects simultaneously.

Of course, this required approval from the school leadership. But there was no need for the school to hesitate—he already had ready-made project topics, clear research directions, and sufficient funding. The school only needed to sign off and assign a lab.

Why hadn’t he mentioned this to the leadership on Saturday?

Oh, right—he’d been overwhelmed…

Just as he was feeling frustrated, a somewhat familiar figure appeared, walking unhurriedly toward the teaching building.

Wang Qizhi was startled: it looked like the boy who had sold him the “Yan Huang Chun Qiu” last Friday.

Had he mistaken him, or was his eyesight failing?

Before he could think further, Lin Sicheng had already entered the building. Wang Qizhi quickly pointed and said, “Teacher Feng, do you know that student? The tall young man who just went inside!”

Teacher Feng squinted and said, “He seems to be Lin Sicheng from the senior cultural heritage class!”

That was confirmed—it was Lin Sicheng.

They had verified the name when transferring money at the bank and had exchanged phone numbers.

What had he said back then? That he was definitely studying something related to cultural relics.

No wonder he ran into him so soon after arriving at school.

“How is his performance?”

“Not good at all!” Teacher Feng didn’t mince words. “He fails several courses each semester.”

“What?”

Wang Qizhi was surprised. How had such a student not been expelled?

Teacher Feng hesitated, then lowered her voice: “He’s the grandson of Vice Dean Lin!”

Wang Qizhi froze—Lin Changchang, former head of the heritage college’s ceramics conservation and restoration discipline?

No wonder he seemed so knowledgeable—it was a family tradition.

Instinctively, Wang Qizhi recalled the scene at the bank: “You research bronze ware and work in Baoji, right…”

He chuckled—failing several courses a semester? Impossible!

“Let’s go to the academic affairs office first!”

Since they were at the same school, there would be plenty of opportunities in the future.