At the awards ceremony, the four members of the China team stood in a line, medals hanging proudly from their necks and flowers in hand, with Jiang Fuyue as the center. The stance was nothing short of impressive.
Click—
The media captured this glorious moment.
Soon, news of the China team sweeping the top three spots in this year’s IOI reached the homeland.
Since the time difference between Kos and China is minimal, it was early morning in China, just as office workers were starting their day.
On the subway, young professionals were catching up on the news on their phones, while elderly gentlemen listened to the radio through their headphones. Before long, they all heard the same exciting news.
In the capital, at one of Q University’s residential buildings:
“Old Yan, are you up?” Yan’s wife placed a cup of warm water on the table for him.
Yan Zhenfeng took a sip, glanced at the empty dining table, and asked, “No breakfast today?”
“I made some. It’s warming on the stove. Go help yourself.” She didn’t even look up, absorbed by her phone.
Yan Zhenfeng found it odd. Usually, she would serve breakfast right in front of him with chopsticks placed neatly in hand.
Nonetheless, he obediently went to the kitchen, returned shortly with soy milk and a whole-grain bun, and sat in the living room.
As he settled in, he noticed his wife glued to her phone, looking particularly absorbed.
“What are you watching so intently?” he asked, leaning over.
“Looking at a little genius beauty.”
“What?”
His wife frowned, shooing him off. “Eat your breakfast; you’re blocking my light.”
Yan Zhenfeng withdrew, bewildered.
Just as he was squatting in a corner, munching on a steamed bun by himself, suddenly—
“Old Yan! This says Jiang Fuyue is also a member of this year’s IPhO national team. Is she one of your students?”
Yan Zhenfeng never imagined he would hear the name “Jiang Fuyue” coming out of his wife’s mouth one day.
He was stunned for a moment.
Mrs. Yan, impatient, gave him a shove. “I’m talking to you—what are you daydreaming about?”
“…Yes, yes, I do have such a student.”
Mrs. Yan’s eyes lit up. She turned the screen toward him and excitedly confirmed, “Is it her?”
Yan Zhenfeng nodded. “Yes.”
The next second, as his eyes landed on the news headline, his mouth fell open in shock, utterly incredulous—Breaking! This year’s IOI national team all win gold medals. Jiang Fuyue, following her IPhO victory, takes first place in informatics with a perfect score!
“First… first place? And a perfect score?” The steamed bun in Yan Zhenfeng’s hand fell to the ground, rolled twice on the floor, and stopped.
“What, you didn’t know?” Mrs. Yan was surprised. “You’re not paying attention at all…”
“What do you mean I’m not paying attention? She won an IOI award, but I don’t teach informatics. How was I supposed to pay attention?”
“Still, she’s a student from your summer camp. Didn’t you know she was competing in informatics?”
“Ahem…” Yan Zhenfeng rubbed his nose.
He did know. But he had never expected Jiang Fuyue to win anything! Let alone take first place with a perfect score…
He’d thought the girl was just messing around, casually joining the competition for fun. And now, look what happened.
Slap in the face, huh?
Ouch… That stung!
Meanwhile, Qin Libin and Sun Qun also saw the news.
The two had planned to play tennis at the city stadium today. After changing into their sportswear, they were about to lock their phones in the lockers when a push notification popped up.
Qin Libin instinctively went to swipe it away—clearly a habit, as he’d done it countless times.
Suddenly, his finger froze, and a familiar name caught his eye.
Jiang Fuyue?
He tapped on it, and his expression shifted from indifferent to shocked.
“Sun Qun! Sun Qun! Come here, quick—”
“What’s going on? Why are you yelling like that?”
“Just hurry!”
Sun Qun jogged over from inside, his shoes half on, turning his sneakers into makeshift slippers as he ran.
“What happened?!” he asked, alarmed.
“See for yourself.” Qin Libin handed him the phone.
Sun Qun took it, glanced down in confusion, and five seconds later—
“My God! She won at IOI too?” It was phrased as a question.
Qin Libin twitched his lips. “It’s from official media—just posted. How could it be fake?”
“Whoa! And another perfect score! Is she doing this wholesale?”
Sister Yue—the strongest wholesaler in history. Doesn’t stock up items, only points.
