Chapter 1: A Perfect Life Begins Here

My name is Fang Luo.

I’m currently a model third-grader in Class One at Xia Minghan Primary School.

That’s who I am now, anyway.

If heaven gave me another chance, I swear I would never stay up all night reading the crap on Tomato Novel until it killed me.

Sigh. How did I end up reborn?

Autumn, 2001.

A year destined for the history books.

Before Kobe’s helicopter crash gave rise to the eternal iced-tea meme, there was the terrorist attack that brought down the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers in America.

But in this world—

The Twin Towers never fell.

Newton figured out gravity after a coconut hit him on the head.

China’s men’s soccer team made it to the World Cup three times.

Cao Xueqin held out under pressure and finished *Dream of the Red Chamber*.

And our Ash finally became a champion.

In other words, this was a parallel world.

For Chovy’s sake, if you’re going to reincarnate me, at least do it properly!

How was I supposed to bet on games using what I remembered? The Chinese men’s team could make the World Cup here. Who the hell would dare place a bet? And forget stocks or Bitcoin. In a parallel world, all of that was scrambled too.

Was this the price of consuming all that Tomato Novel crap?

Anyway, the timeline had veered a tiny bit off course, and I’d landed back in the third grade.

Too young to enjoy my youth, and too young to have any real independence.

Worse, Dad’s job transfer had just brought our whole family to this county town, and I’d enrolled as a glorious transfer student.

At least the protagonist’s obligatory System had shown up.

「You have been chosen because you regularly consume crap on Tomato Novel. Cheat unlocked: If You Can Keep Eating That for So Long, There’s Nothing You Can’t Do in Life.」

「Restarting your perfect life timeline. Returning you to third grade in a parallel world!」

「Loading…」

「Automatically unlocks after one hour of ads.」

Wow. There was even an ad stage.

How could I describe my feelings? This was exactly the kind of System Tomato Novel would produce. Sigh. Sigh, sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh. Hopefully it really would finish loading in an hour.

I sat in the third row by the window in Class One, chin in hand, looking melancholy.

Melancholy.

As gloomy as a rainy day in London.

Beside me, a little boy with a bowl cut was absorbed in sniffling up his snot. The clear, sticky strand stretched and shortened with each breath, until the morning light caught a transparent bubble at its end.

It popped softly. He gave a practiced sniff, and he was ready to go again.

Heh. Elementary school kids.

Then it occurred to me that I’d be spending the foreseeable future with these people. Snot-playing little brats like him were now my peers. My already melancholy expression grew even more melancholy.

And so the elementary school kids—or rather, my classmates—stared at me with curiosity, sizing me up and whispering among themselves.

They’d never seen a boy like this before.

Back then, terms like “aloof heartthrob” and “Uchiha Sasuke” hadn’t yet caught on among grade-schoolers, and none of them had seen the masked short-video guys calling out “Jiahao,” either.

They just thought the new boy gave off an icy, stay-away-from-me air.

What could I do? You’d have trouble keeping it together too.

“Hey, um… new kid.”

A chubby boy with a buzz cut and a pair of Warrior sneakers suddenly sidled up to my desk and lowered his voice.

I lifted my chin a fraction, trying to use my mature, intimidating gaze to drive the brat away. “What is it?”

“Your fly’s open,” he said earnestly.

My head buzzed. What did he mean, my fly was open? Had I looked like a circus clown this whole time, sitting there with my chin on my hand?

Oh, shit. No way!

Almost on instinct, I clapped both hands over my crotch at lightning speed and looked down.

But wait.

I was wearing the navy track pants from Xia Minghan Primary School’s uniform.

They had a fucking elastic waistband!

Even the front seam was stitched flat. What zipper?

I jerked my head up. The chubby kid was already walking away, scratching the back of his head and snickering, leaving me alone in disarray, gradually developing a deep affection for him.

Don’t stoop to a grade-schooler’s level… Don’t stoop to a grade-schooler’s level…

“Um… excuse me.”

A soft little voice came from behind me.

“Your zipper’s open.”

Again? Were these kids ever going to quit?

I turned stiffly. A black-haired girl with rosy cheeks was pointing at the canvas schoolbag hanging on the back of my chair.

“The big zipper on your bag isn’t closed. Your pencil case is about to fall out.”

She carefully reached out with two fingers and gently zipped the Digimon bag all the way shut.

Me: …

With that done, she gave me a sweet smile, as though she’d just accomplished a great mission, then turned and scampered back to her seat.

I sat speechless for a long moment.

Should I go back to being melancholy?

Yes. Yes, I should.

I propped up my chin again, my eyes dim as I pondered whether I could return to the past once more.

♫ Oh, the clock whose hands travel through time… ♫

“Everyone, quiet! The bell’s about to ring. I’ve written down everyone who’s still talking!”

The clear, sharp call cut through the noise in the classroom.

I looked toward the teacher’s desk.

There stood a short girl with a ponytail that reached her shoulders. Her blue-and-white uniform was spotless, and the red Young Pioneer scarf at her chest was tied just right.

Most striking of all was the red armband on her left arm, embroidered with two thick gold bars.

Hands on her hips and brows slightly knitted, she wore a stern expression on her young, round face, looking every bit like a miniature adult.

The children who’d been running and roughhousing scattered at the sound of her voice. They slipped obediently back to their seats, folded their hands on their desks, and sat up straight.

Even the fellow in front of me who’d been blowing snot bubbles looked terrified. He blew his nose hard, wiped it on his sleeve, and fixed his eyes straight ahead.

“Why’s Chu Hanya here so early?”

Someone behind me whispered resentfully, “Can’t believe she’s still in our class. She’s been class monitor since first grade, and she’s fierce. She’s always tattling to Teacher Wang. If you break the rules even a little, she never lets you off.”

“Remember last semester, when Li Qiang sneaked some crunchy noodles in class? She went straight to the teacher. He had to stand for the whole afternoon, and they even called his parents in…”

I raised an eyebrow.

So she was the little tyrant who ruled this classroom.

At that moment, Chu Hanya was directing two sturdy boys as they carried several bundles of new textbooks to the front.

“We’re handing out the new books by student number. The teacher told me to sort them first, so come up when I call your name.”

“No grabbing. Anyone who grabs gets theirs last!”

As she kept everyone in line, Chu Hanya deftly untied the bundles and sorted the books into neat stacks: Chinese, math, and English, each a different thickness.

Those were the three main subjects in elementary school. The rest were odds and ends like art, moral education, and music.

The classroom fell silent. Only her clear voice echoed as she called out names.

“Xiang Wenjie.”

“Cao Zijian.”

“…”

“Fang Luo.”

By the time it was my turn, only the last few sets of textbooks remained at the front.

I walked up gloomily. There were still more than forty minutes of ads to go, and a dark-skinned, sturdy boy stood ahead of me in line.

Chu Hanya was about to hand him a set of new books when he suddenly pointed at the math textbook on top and shouted:

“Hey, Monitor! The cover of this math book is torn, and there are pages missing at the back! I don’t want a damaged one. I want the new one underneath!”

I looked closer. Sure enough, whether through a binding error at the print shop or damage in transit, the top math book’s cover was torn more than halfway across. Its pages were curled and yellowed, as if a dog had chewed on it.

And there were only two math books left on the desk.

Going by the usual conduct of elementary school class officers, if the boy didn’t want the battered book, the monitor probably wouldn’t want it either. Naturally, it would end up with me, the new transfer student.

I shrugged. I didn’t care.

An elementary school math book was as useful to me as scrap paper. If it was damaged, so be it. I could tape it up at home.

Kids did care about the strangest things, but once you grew up, those things seemed so trivial… Wait, why was I getting philosophical? Damn it, couldn’t the ads load any faster?

Then something unexpected happened.

Chu Hanya merely knitted her delicate brows, picked up the damaged book without a word, and set it at the corner of the desk.

She handed the last intact new book to the sturdy boy. “Here. Go back to your seat and sit properly. No talking.”

As if granted a reprieve, he happily hugged his books and ran back to his seat.

Then Chu Hanya took her own brand-new math book from the clean stack she’d already collected beneath the desk and held it out to me.

“You’re Fang Luo, right? These are your new textbooks. Here you go.”

I stared for a moment. Instead of taking the books, I pointed at the battered one in the corner. “What about that one?”

Chu Hanya looked up at me, her big dark eyes clear and bright. “I’ll use it,” she said calmly, as though it were obvious.

“I’m the class monitor. I should take whatever’s left.”

Sunlight streamed through the classroom window onto her slight shoulders and her vivid red two-bar armband.

Whoa!

The light of righteousness!

I took the books, thinking third-graders really were innocent.

The little monitor might be a bit stiff and serious, but she did the right thing.

Just then, a teacher’s footsteps sounded outside the classroom.

A middle-aged man with a beer belly and a balding crown sauntered in, a peeling insulated cup tucked under his arm.

Wang Jianguo, the homeroom teacher of Class One, Grade Three.

Chu Hanya quickly tidied the desk, then trotted back to the middle seat in the front row and sat with impeccable posture.

Wang Jianguo stepped up to the front, thunked his cup onto the desk, cleared his throat, and arranged his face into an authoritative expression.

“All right, mouths shut. School’s back in session!”

Old Wang surveyed the room, pausing briefly when his gaze passed over me. Then he cleared his throat twice and began his start-of-term speech.

“Students, a new semester means a fresh start!

“From today on, you’re not little first- and second-graders anymore. You’re big third-graders! Third grade is the most important turning point in primary school. You all need to learn to be independent!”

Could I keep a straight face?

Old Wang’s voice abruptly rose, flecks of spit flying at the front of the room.

“What does independence mean? First of all, discipline! Starting today, you’re strictly forbidden from asking to use the toilet during class without a good reason! Do you think the ten-minute break is for playing? That’s when you take care of your bodily needs! If anyone raises a hand twenty minutes into class and says, ‘Teacher, I need to pee,’ I’ll make them stand in the hallway until they wet their pants!”

Nope. I couldn’t hold it in.

Who the hell could?

The eight- and nine-year-olds in the room were so frightened they barely dared breathe, but there I was by the window, frozen stiff, the corners of my mouth twitching.

“All right, that’s enough of the lecture.”

Wang Jianguo changed tack and looked at me. “We have a new classmate today. Give him a round of applause… Fang Luo, stand up and introduce yourself.”

Amid a ragged patter of applause, I stood expressionlessly under the gaze of my peers.

Sigh. Sigh, sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh!

“Hello, everyone. My name is Fang Luo.

“I’ve just transferred here from the provincial capital.

“Please take care of me.”

A short introduction, with not a word to spare. I didn’t know that, later on, it would only convince everyone further of my melancholy. I simply didn’t have much to say.

Old Wang nodded with satisfaction.

As a veteran who’d spent years on the front lines of education, Old Wang had received a packet of fine tea from Fang Luo’s parents only last night, with a weighty envelope tucked inside.

My family had secure jobs, and we’d moved because Dad had been promoted. But back to the point.

When someone pays you, you look after them. Wang Jianguo knew exactly how to treat a well-behaved transfer student from a comfortable family.

“Good, very good. Confident and composed.”

Smiling, Old Wang looked around the classroom. “We’re rearranging seats for the new semester anyway.

“Fang Luo, why don’t you sit in the front row next to Chu Hanya? She’s our class monitor, one of the best students in the whole school, and the best behaved. You’re new here, so learn from her.”

The class immediately gave me looks of envy mixed with sympathy.

They envied me for getting the middle seat in the front row.

They pitied me for having to sit beside Chu Hanya, the cold-faced, impartial little demon. Life probably wouldn’t be easy from now on.

They were third-graders, after all; their minds weren’t on that sort of thing. The boys finished enjoying my misfortune.

I didn’t care. I picked up my bag and strolled to the front row.

Chu Hanya watched me stuff it into my desk drawer, her slender brows drawing together.

As soon as Old Wang left for the office to fetch his lesson plan, she turned to me and solemnly laid down the law like a little police officer.

“Fang Luo, since Teacher Wang has arranged for you to sit next to me, I have to take responsibility for you.”

She drew her ballpoint pen firmly over the dividing line already carved down the middle of the desk.

Ah, that took me back… Wait, no.

They were drawing desk borders in third grade already?

As I recalled, I’d shared a desk with a girl in fifth and sixth grade. Back then the girls loved TFBoys, though we called them the “Dig-for-Poop Boys.” Anyway, my deskmate drew the line because Wang Junkai wouldn’t let her talk to me. She even said she had his QQ contact.

“First, no talking, eating snacks, or fooling around in class. If I catch you, I’ll write down your name and give it to Teacher Wang immediately.

“Second, you are not allowed to cross this line during class. Boys like you are always causing trouble, but I won’t stand for it. Understood?”

Her dead-serious expression was starting to dispel my melancholy. I waved a hand and answered carelessly, “All right, all right. As you command.”

Wait.

Why was I speaking so respectfully to a little kid?

There was some research about whether experience or physical age had more influence on the mind. For example, if an eighty-year-old returned to an eighteen-year-old’s body, he might keep his old routine for a while, but his healthy body would soon make him energetic again.

In other words, the state of the body affected a person’s sense of self to some extent.

I didn’t know if that applied to me now.

But honestly, all that crap I’d read on Tomato Novel had made me very adaptable. Anyone else in my shoes would have stood up and tried all sorts of things to make sure this was real.

Me? I just sat there with my chin in my hand, looking melancholy.

Back to the present.

Chu Hanya gave a little huff, apparently dissatisfied with my attitude, but the bell for first period had already begun to ring.

Math was first.

An elderly woman with gray hair and thick black-framed glasses entered the classroom. This was Teacher Liu, famous throughout the school for her strictness.

She set two boxes of chalk on the desk and swept the room with an eagle-eyed gaze.

“You’re in third grade now. Time to settle down!”

Her voice was sharp and stern. “First and second grade were child’s play: adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing single digits! In third grade, the difficulty of math increases exponentially!

“For our first lesson, we’ll be multiplying multi-digit numbers by single-digit numbers with carrying, and solving mixed-operation word problems with parentheses! Turn to page one and pay attention. If your mind wanders today, you won’t understand any of the lessons that follow!”

Wow. That was… so hard…

Wait, what the hell did she mean by multiplying multi-digit numbers by single digits?

Like twelve times three? You could do that in your head: thirty-six. I was smurfing in a beginner’s lobby!

As someone who’d completed nine years of compulsory education and four years of college, I found the prospect of sitting here despair-inducing.

At Teacher Liu’s words, Chu Hanya immediately straightened her back, opened her battered math book, and gripped her pencil. She watched the board intently and began copying down the notes.

As for me…

I opened my textbook and looked at the illustration of cartoon monkeys sharing peaches.

Once again, I sank into the long, empty void of existence.

Multi-digit numbers times single-digit numbers…

Mixed operations…

Heh.

I’d passed calculus and linear algebra, and now I had to sit here while an old lady spent forty-five minutes explaining why you had to carry a one into the tens column when multiplying twenty-four by three? I’d rather watch the damn ads.

My thoughts began to wander wildly.

How far along was the internet in this world? Had the three BAT giants been founded yet?

How many years until Bitcoin?

Could I get tickets to the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympics? And what year was our family’s shabby old apartment supposed to be demolished for redevelopment…?

Wait.

Would any of those things even happen in a parallel world? The Chinese men’s team had made the World Cup three times, and Ash had won the big championship, for crying out loud.

Riiing!

The bell sounded like heavenly music. Teacher Liu tucked her lesson plan under her arm and hurried out.

I stretched. Forty minutes in this classroom was more torturous than spending an entire day making PowerPoints in my previous life.

“Fang Luo!”

A clear voice, edged with annoyance, exploded beside my ear.

I turned. Chu Hanya was facing me with her arms folded, her fair little face full of stern reproach.

“You were daydreaming in the very first lesson! From the fifteenth minute onward, you kept looking at the plane tree outside. You yawned and spun your pen, too. I bet you didn’t write down a single word of Teacher Liu’s example problem!”

“?” I was bewildered.

She continued glaring at me indignantly, as though I’d committed some unforgivable crime.

“Teacher Liu just said third-grade math is hard!

“You’ve just transferred here, so you should be working even harder. How can you give up on yourself in the very first lesson? As your deskmate and class monitor, it’s my responsibility to keep an eye on you!”

Hang on…

I sighed helplessly at the little monitor, so frustrated at my apparent lack of ambition. Still, this came from her sense of responsibility. I couldn’t call her a bad monitor for it.

But did she have any idea who she was dealing with?

Tomato Novel’s strongest… No, never mind.

“I just thought the lesson was too easy,” I said dismissively. I didn’t really feel like arguing with a little girl.

The ads for my System’s “Perfect Life” had only a few minutes left to load.

Chu Hanya froze. Then her pretty eyes went wide, as though she’d just heard the most outrageous thing imaginable.

“Too easy?! You’re bragging!”

She clearly didn’t believe me.

She shoved her exercise book in front of me and angrily pointed to an “advanced thinking problem” Teacher Liu had just left on the board.

It read:

An orchard has harvested apples. Each large basket holds 45 kilograms, and each small basket holds 25 kilograms.

Eight large baskets and twelve small baskets are transported, in addition to the 160 kilograms transported earlier.

How many kilograms of apples did the orchard harvest in total?

For a child just starting third grade, a word problem involving several multiplication and addition steps, with numbers in the hundreds, really was a big deal. You might even need to work through each step on scratch paper.

“Teacher Liu left this challenge problem for the math representative. If you think it’s easy, write out the equation and show me the answer!”

Chu Hanya lifted her chin proudly, as if to say, Let’s see you get out of this.

My mouth twitched.

If she’d given me a Taylor expansion or a problem in analytic geometry, my brain might have produced nothing but a drooling thought about a twenty-yuan serving of braised chicken and rice.

But testing me with third-grade arithmetic was an insult to nine years of compulsory education.

I didn’t pick up a pencil or even lean forward. I just glanced at the problem.

Forty-five times eight was 360.

Twenty-five times twelve was 300.

Three hundred sixty plus 300 plus 160 was 820.

Done.

“Forty-five times eight is 360, twenty-five times twelve is 300. That’s 660, plus the 160 transported earlier makes 820 kilograms.”

My expression remained impassive, and I spoke quickly, rattling off the answer like a list of dishes. Then I added:

“The combined equation is forty-five times eight plus twenty-five times twelve plus 160 equals 820.

“The unit is kilograms. Write the answer sentence yourself.”

See? I told you I was smurfing.

The noisy air went still.

Chu Hanya still had her chin raised, but she was utterly dumbfounded.

She dropped her gaze in a panic, grabbed her pencil, and hurriedly checked the calculation on scratch paper.

The lead scratched rapidly over the rough paper as she wrote out the multiplication, carried the digits, and added everything step by step…

Twenty-odd seconds later, a large number stood at the bottom of the page: 820.

Her pencil hand trembled slightly. She snapped her head up and stared at me in disbelief.

This guy…

He hadn’t even used scratch paper!

He hadn’t so much as touched a pencil!

He’d glanced at the problem and given the final answer on the spot!

“You… you…” Chu Hanya stammered, her round little face turning bright red. “You studied the third-grade math textbook over summer vacation, didn’t you?!”

“…” Great. I’d smurfed so hard I’d upset the fish.

No, I really shouldn’t upset her.

She was the class monitor, one of the last people you wanted to offend in elementary school. And a girl, at that. I wouldn’t know what to do if she started crying.

So I sighed, surrendered, and went along with her explanation. “Yeah. I flipped through it when I had nothing else to do.”

That seemed to calm Chu Hanya down. A thoughtful look gradually came over her face.

“No wonder you weren’t paying attention.”

Her gaze shifted subtly. She’d thought I was an idle transfer student, but it turned out I was a good student who studied ahead during vacation. In that case…

She bit her lower lip and tried to appear indifferent, but her competitive spirit got the better of her.

“Then… what rank did you usually get on exams at your old primary school in the provincial capital?”

I thought back for a moment.

In third grade in my previous life, I’d been a genuine little menace who caught longhorn beetles in class and raided birds’ nests during recess. My grades had consistently hovered around the middle.

“Twenty-sixth, I think,” I answered honestly.

“Twenty-sixth?” Chu Hanya sucked in a breath, her big eyes filling with shock and wariness. “Is primary school in the provincial capital that competitive? You’re so good, but you could only rank twenty-sixth in the whole school?!”

I gave her a speechless look and replied slowly, “In class.”

“…”

The shock on her face froze, then visibly gave way to exasperation and relief.

There were only forty or fifty students in a class. Twenty-sixth meant I was squarely in the middle, edging toward the bottom!

The weight lifted from her heart.

Nothing to fear.

Absolutely nothing to fear.

Chu Hanya regained the pride and composure befitting Class One’s monitor and the school’s star student.

As long as this boy wasn’t some hidden academic genius from the provincial capital, her place at the top of the class—and even the school—was secure!

He was probably just good at math, the kind of student who excelled in one subject. Yes, that made sense.

“…Twenty-sixth isn’t too bad.”

She even offered me some comfort, patting my desk. “As long as you pay attention in class from now on and don’t daydream, you can ask me whenever you don’t understand something. As your deskmate, I can tutor you. Let’s aim to get you into the top twenty by the final exams.

“Of course, that’s only if you don’t slack off.”

I was about to say something to her smug little face when an electronic chime suddenly sounded deep in my mind—

The ads were over!!!

No.

My System was officially online!

…

【Ding! The host has successfully settled into Class One, Grade Three. Life in the new semester is underway!】

【Perfect Life System mission issued: The Starting Point of Academic Life!】

【Mission: A perfect life’s record must never be stained by mediocrity.

In the upcoming first monthly exam of third grade, take first place in the class through your overwhelming ability and overturn the existing order!】

【Mission reward: 5 Corner Shop Coins!】

【The system store, the Childhood Corner Shop, is now open. The host may use coins to purchase a variety of magical items. Currently available:

【Memory Crunchy Noodles (short-term effect)】

【Never-Ending Zhonghua Drawing Pencil】

【Small Stamina Recovery Vial】

Click on the shop to view items.

…

There was a lot of text in front of me. Ignoring the monitor beside me for the moment, I read through it.

Mm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm-hmm…

Wait, wasn’t a cheat supposed to be something amazing that turned your life around? What did it mean, my first mission was to come first in a third-grade class?

The smile froze on my face.

And the reward was coins I could only spend at the corner shop. No cash, no boost to my intelligence or stamina—Tomato Novel, you absolute wonder!

I’d watched an hour of ads for this?!

【More modules will be unlocked through future missions.】

Fine. At least I didn’t have to watch more ads. That was progress…

Sigh. Sigh, sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh.

As I’d mentioned, all the crap I’d read on Tomato Novel had made me very adaptable. I soon accepted even this development. Fine, I’d follow the missions and unlock more modules. Hopefully.

A perfect life… What would that even look like?

Chin in hand, I looked around at the noisy children: some talking about cartoons, some playing cards, others poking each other with the dreaded Thousand Years of Death.

Sigh. Sigh, sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh.

The glittering gold mission panel in my head still told me to come first in class. I glanced at my deskmate, the little monitor Chu Hanya, who was humming happily as she organized her pencil case.

First in class?

This little girl seemed to care a lot about her grades.

Wasn’t I going to crush her so badly she’d cry?

I looked at the sticker on her pencil case: “Study hard and make progress every day.”

Sorry about this.

I’d wanted to get along with everyone as an ordinary primary school student.

But Xia Minghan’s strongest elementary schooler was about to be born.

…

The Perfect Life Guidebook is now online.

Name: Fang Luo

Age: √81 + 0 × 9

Academic ability: S (Can easily master everything taught in primary school)

Athletic ability: B (Average for a third-grader)

Looks: B+ (The clean-cut type among primary school boys)

Current mission: Place first in class on the monthly exam.

Current ranking: 26th in class

Corner Shop Coins: 0