Daily Life in the Countryside After Being Reborn-Chapter 11 - 10 different starting lines

At twenty minutes to eight, Zhou Qiang's car stopped punctually at the gate of East China International College.

Zhou Ziang looked out the window at the imposing school entrance and the students in pairs and groups, everything felt alien to him.

"Reach out to your student advisor if you have any issues," Zhou Qiang had doubts about Zhou Ziang's good appetite and chatting at breakfast. On the drive, he glanced back several times, noticing that his son first contemplated the scenery outside before fixing his gaze on the steering wheel without any sign of peculiarity.

The student advisor at East China had been Zhou Qiang's old classmate; Zhou Ziang had been in conflict with classmates and performed poorly academically, having changed schools twice already. It was through pulling strings with his old classmate that Zhou Qiang managed to secure this school for him.

Zhou Ziang stepped out of the car reeking of oil; the day before, when he stayed in his room, he'd browsed through the books there. "Zhou Ziang" had a keen interest in mechanical things, with shelves laden with books on cars and military matters.

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A few familiar-looking students passed by, probably Zhou Ziang's classmates. One of them pointed and whispered upon seeing Zhou Ziang.

Their voices were soft, but Zhou Ziang still overheard, "He dares to come to school after tangling with Li Ran and his crew?"

"He's got the student advisor to back him up, and they say his father is the Deputy Director of the Agricultural Bureau." Two boys sneered. At this renowned international school in Shanghai, every student came from either a government or business background—essentially the children of officials or the wealthy.

Zhou Ziang's father was the Deputy Director of the Shanghai Agricultural Bureau, only having been transferred to Shanghai a year ago with shallow roots and credentials compared to the five other deputy directors.

As for the aforementioned Li Ran, he was a bona fide local Shanghainese, with his father Li Gang being a real estate developer. Though one father was a government official and the other a businessman, in the lucrative land of Shanghai, many deferred to Mr. Li. Moreover, Zhou Ziang was known for not standing up for himself.

Two days prior, Zhou Ziang had stumbled upon Li Qiang and his crew smoking in the boys' restroom. He silently attempted to leave, but Li Ran's gang saw an opportunity to bully the "autistic" newbie, pressuring him to smoke and buy drinks. Zhou Ziang stubbornly refused, ending up with five or six cigarette burns on his arm.

Upon returning home, Zhou Ziang didn't dare tell his parents, choosing instead to hide away and not attend school.

None of the others knew about this ordeal, but Yun Guanzi, who had taken over the real "Zhou Ziang", was fully aware of it.

"Good morning, Wang Ming, Lu Yao," said Zhou Ziang, who used to keep his head down with classmates but suddenly greeted people, breaking his usual silence.

Wang and Lu, who had just been gossiping, were stunned. The "autistic" Zhou Ziang they knew had already walked into the classroom.

"Zhou Ziang just greeted us," said Wang Ming, turning around.

"What are you looking at? He's already inside," responded Lu Yao in surprise. The boy had been transferred a month ago and had not said a peep until today's sudden enlightenment.

"I'm checking if the sun has risen from the west," Wang Ming joked in confusion.

Throughout the day, the students in Zhou Ziang's class noticed his transformation.

"Sun Fei, Cao Hao, Feng Qizheng..." Zhou Ziang jotted down the thirty-one names of his classmates on paper. In the Yunteng Sect, he'd made a habit of remembering names of each senior and junior. With only a little over thirty people in his class at East China, it seemed trivial compared to the tens of thousands of immortal cultivators in the Yunteng Sect.

During chemistry class, the teacher posed a question, and no students raised their hands.

The chemistry teacher, feeling disappointed and about to give the answer, saw a boy in the second to last row raise his hand, "This student, ah, Zhou Ziang! You want to answer? Very well, good, come up."

Murmurs filled the classroom beneath the lectern. The chemistry teacher adjusted his glasses, puzzled, "Has the sun risen from the west today? Zhou Ziang is actually volunteering to answer?"

After answering, Zhou did not forget to bow to the chemistry teacher, earnestly saying, "Please guide me further, teacher."

The long-serving chemistry teacher nearly broke into tears, "Such a good student." Once back in the staff room, he sang praises— Zhou Ziang from Class Three had improved greatly.

A single stone causes a thousand ripples, and teachers from N different subjects also said that he took the initiative to answer questions, and his handwriting on the blackboard was especially good, resembling calligraphy.

There was also a buzz of discussion in the office.

The head of the teaching department soon got wind of the news and couldn't wait to make a phone call to his old classmate Zhou Qiang, who almost burst into tears on the other end. His son had finally come to his senses.

Tears were not just flowing from Zhou Qiang's eyes; at 4:10 in the afternoon, the melodic bell signaling the end of classes echoed throughout East China International College.

"Ziang, I'm heading out first,"

"Ziang, thank you for your method of answering questions,"

"Ziang, let's go karaoke this weekend,"

Zhou Ziang, with a smile on his face, bid farewell to his classmates one by one and walked across the playground carrying his backpack.

"Hey, Zhou Ziang, get us some ice-cold Coca-Colas," yelled a group of sweaty male students from the basketball court, as a slippery basketball was thrown his way.

Just as the sweaty basketball was about to hit Zhou Ziang's head, it stopped mid-air and was caught by a hand. Zhou Ziang glanced over at the person.

The basketball still held in Zhou Ziang's hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder, he walked towards the male student who had thrown the ball.

"Are you Li Ran?" Zhou Ziang raised his eyebrows.

"This kid must've been beaten silly," laughed Li Ran and his gang, who hadn't made Zhou Ziang's life miserable enough the day before, and here he was, daring to come to school.

Li Ran laughed with his mouth wide open, his nostrils flaring upwards, when a shadow loomed over him. Before his beady eyes could register what was happening, the basketball hoop started to vibrate violently.

The grey-blue backpack flung through the air, leaving a blue streak like a high-flying swing, as the young man leaped like a tiger pouncing down a mountain.

The golden-red basketball precisely went through the hoop and slammed hard onto the arrogant nose and mouth of Li Ran, blood gushing out.

A powerful dunk indeed.

Zhou Ziang's black hair obscured his eyes, concealing whatever emotions he might have been feeling at that moment. Zhou Ziang let go of the basketball hoop with his right hand and landed on the ground.

"Fifty bucks, buy him a bottle of ice-cold Coke to patch himself up," Zhou Ziang said nonchalantly as he walked away from the court, leaving behind a crowd of stunned students and Li Ran with a broken front tooth.

From the above actions, it's not hard to see that, despite both being transcenders, the Ninth Heavenly Thunder treated Zhu Xiaoxian and Zhou Ziang quite differently indeed.

One was born a cripple in a remote valley, and the other grew up a privileged official's son in a bustling metropolis.

Zhou Ziang, handsome at sixteen, a high school student. If it were before the reform and opening up, a high school student would also be considered an intellectual, not missing a single character that ought to be learned. Although suffering from autism, being autistic also had its advantages; less time wandering around aimlessly and more time spent reading and writing, with his mathematics, physics, and chemistry being exceptionally good.

Whether Zhu Xiaoxian was pretty or not couldn't be told from her current little nose and face, at least not until ten years later. For now, Zhu Xiaoxian's gains included a fallen and cheap grandfather, a body of a six-year-old who had just progressed from disability to healthiness, with residual memories including ten Arabic numerals and twenty-six letters.

As for their fates, well, let's continue to unravel that in the next installment.

(Due to the A, C, and S keys on the keyboard being broken after just a year of high-intensity work, Fu Zi, who uses a soft keyboard, is very frustrated. This Chapter was painful to type, please bear with it. Rushing for the rankings on Monday, there will be a midnight update, and hopefully, the caring children will support.)