Chapter 5: Using an Item for the First Time

My name is Fang Luo, and I’m surviving among the world’s most dangerous elementary schoolers. Here, I’ll show you… Sorry, wrong program. That’s Bear Grylls’s opening from that wilderness survival show.

Anyway, it had been over a week since I’d been reborn in primary school. Having resolved to make the best of it, I’d grown used to my rather shorter perspective.

Back to the point.

After a week of being made to stand, outsourcing homework, playing guitar at the Children’s Palace, and completing daily check-ins, I had more or less figured out the Perfect Life Guidebook.

Its mechanics were actually simple.

First, the experience system.

Doing homework every day reliably provided a tiny amount of basic experience. Special events, like playing guitar at the Children’s Palace over the weekend—a CG scene in a dating sim—happened by chance.

I didn’t know how to trigger them, but when one occurred, it dropped a huge amount of experience and coins all at once.

Those experience points could be assigned directly to my three character attributes: intelligence, stamina, and charm.

Intelligence affected quick thinking and memory!

Stamina affected endurance and physical coordination!

Charm affected presence and approachability!

Mine were S, B, and B-plus, respectively—by third-grade standards, of course. The standards would probably change as I grew older.

The unallocated experience could be distributed freely among the three attributes, subtly reshaping my small third-grader’s body. In other words, it was a useful ability. I wouldn’t have to worry about my future self failing to keep up as I grew.

That brought me to the second important point.

The coin shop.

It was a store that sold all sorts of bizarre items, like Doraemon’s pocket, and coins were the currency for buying them.

Daily homework yielded a stingy 0.1 coins; only special events brought a substantial increase. After a week of daily accumulation and the coin from Wen Shuyao’s chocolate, I had exactly 1.6 coins to my name.

Time to shop.

…

—Xia Minghan Primary School, Class One, Grade Three—

It was first period on Monday morning: Chinese.

At the front, Old Wang led the class through a reading, spittle flying. His heavily accented recitation echoed around the room like a lullaby, and the students swayed as they read along.

I’d learned my lesson.

Though I knew my mind was mature, I’d learned the hard way to be more careful. My body was still that of an elementary schooler, so I no longer spun my pen with blatant disregard for everyone or stared into space, chin in hand, as melancholy as a rainy London night, like I had on the first day.

Now I could let my mind wander while appearing attentive.

My eyes seemed fixed on the chalk writing on the board, but their focus rested precisely on the translucent text panel.

It was a skill probably every schoolkid had, right up there with sneaking snacks.

With a thought, I opened the Corner Shop for the first time.

To the creak of an old wooden door that only I could hear, a wooden shelf unfolded before me, styled like a supply-and-marketing cooperative from the eighties or nineties.

The items on it were varied and full of childhood nostalgia.

【Memory Crunchy Noodles: 2 coins】

【Temporarily raises memory to S rank for one hour after eating. Side effect: your next packet of instant noodles will be missing its seasoning sachet.】

Huh? What a random side effect.

So whenever I opened noodles and found no seasoning, was it because I’d eaten Memory Crunchy Noodles?

On to the second item.

【Sharpshooter’s Marble: 2 coins】

【Provides perfect curve correction and a one-hundred-percent hit rate in any marble game. The ultimate weapon for ruling the school’s dirt battlefields, but it mysteriously disappears the day after use.】

So buying it would make me Xia Minghan Primary School’s best marble player?

【Never-Ending Zhonghua Drawing Pencil: 10 coins】

【As the name suggests, its graphite is exceptionally pure. It never needs sharpening and resists drops and breakage.】

Wow, really?

Wait… This was a freaking system! A cheat! Didn’t it sell anything, uh, really eye-opening?

【Eye-Brightening Eye Drops: 5 coins】

【Relieves eye strain and greatly improves concentration for two hours. Five uses. Side effect: strong sleepiness afterward.】

That’s not what I meant by eye-opening! …Though that was a pretty good item.

Whatever. No point looking. They were either too expensive or didn’t seem very useful.

I scanned the crowded shelves with my pitiful 1.6 copper coins. There was only one thing I could afford, sitting in a basket in the corner.

【Plastic Magnifying Glass (consumable)】

Price: 1 coin

Effect: For someone destined to stand above the crowd, understanding the people around you is the first step toward mastering your life. Focus your gaze on a person for three seconds to view an attribute panel generated according to their current circumstances.

Of course, it was a single-use item.

…

I raised an eyebrow.

From the description, it sounded like the inspection skill that came standard in RPGs in my previous life.

I was curious, and at one coin I could afford it. I might as well try it and see whether the System was useful.

As for the target…

Know yourself and your enemy, and you need not fear a hundred battles.

My first main mission involved the monthly exam, and a supposed reigning academic genius of Xia Minghan Primary School sat right beside me. It was important to know what Chu Hanya was really capable of.

“Purchase.”

I gave the command in my mind.

Ding!

There was the clear sound of a coin dropping into a pouch. My balance instantly shrank to 0.6, and a faint golden crosshair appeared in the center of my vision, surrounded by an old-fashioned magnifying-glass frame.

The item had taken effect.

I shifted in my seat, leaning slightly to the right, and fixed my gaze precisely on my deskmate Chu Hanya as she concentrated on her notes.

The crosshair locked on.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

With a faint hum, information appeared beside Chu Hanya’s fair, intent face and lowered eyelashes.

…

Target: Chu Hanya

Age: √81 + 0 × 9

Academic ability: A+

(Exceptional focus and logical understanding. As long as she remains diligent, she can easily teach herself and fully master every third-grade subject.)

Athletic ability: C

(A frail constitution and limited lung capacity. She gets winded after running 200 meters, and her legs ache after climbing three flights of stairs.)

Appearance rating: A

(Exceptionally fine features and a graceful bone structure, with considerable potential as she grows; she has the potential to become a child star.)

Attention toward you: 15

([Acquaintances/Slightly Disapproving]: She pays attention to you only because the homeroom teacher assigned you to sit together. The little egotist who always daydreams in class gives her a headache. Still, unlike the other boys, you don’t smell of sweat, and your clothes are clean. You’re barely acceptable as a deskmate.)

Qualities: [Good Student], [Noble], [Upright], [A Little Sun Growing Up]

…

I stared at the detailed profile in surprise.

Why did this suddenly feel like a dating sim?

No, no. What was I thinking?

Anyway, the System’s assessment seemed sound.

First, the C in athletics. During group calisthenics last week, I’d noticed that when she stretched her arms and kicked her legs, she was as limp as an underfed kitten. So her stamina really was near the bottom.

Her A in appearance and those four glowing qualities made complete sense too.

Chu Hanya’s features really were remarkably delicate. Even in the same uniform as everyone else, she stood out when she took her place at the front of the room.

And on the first day of school, she’d chosen the damaged book for herself instead of passing it off to the new student. That certainly deserved the words “noble” and “upright.”

What surprised me most was her A-plus in academics.

Impressive.

I could learn primary school material easily because I was a reborn dragon king making his return. Chu Hanya had reached A-plus through the talent and self-discipline of a nine-year-old. That said a lot.

She really was a top student.

No wonder she usually carried herself like a proud little peacock and looked at me with undisguised contempt when I said I already knew the material.

Once we grew up and reached high school, I might not be able to crush her anymore. Ahhh, I could already see my life: a child prodigy in primary and middle school, then the fall of the prodigy in high school.

While I was silently mulling over Chu Hanya’s profile, the hard tip of a ballpoint pen poked my back twice.

A furtive whisper followed. “Fang Luo… Fang Luo! Can you hear me? Fang Luo…”

I looked away, and the magnifying glass vanished automatically.

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Xiang Wenjie.

He sat right behind me and was known as the class’s little schemer. His father was a prosperous self-employed seafood trader at the county market, so his family was well off.

While everyone else was still playing in the mud and folding paper airplanes, Xiang Wenjie already carried an authentic Digivice and mini racing cars in his pockets.

Since school began, he’d seen me handle Old Wang without changing expression despite sitting in the front row, and even close my eyes and rest during Old Liu’s math lesson. He’d quickly and unilaterally decided I was some hidden master. During breaks, he kept coming over to ask whether I was the son of a high official from the provincial capital.

I was about to pretend to pick up my eraser so I could turn and answer him when something unexpected happened.

Chu Hanya noticed the movement.

She turned, her fair little face instantly frosty, and her delicate brows shot up. “Fang Luo! No talking in class!” she whispered sharply.

“Xiang Wenjie, where do you think you’re poking that pen? Move it again and I’ll put both your names on the discipline list after class!”

“Eek!”

I had to admit, Chu Hanya controlled her volume masterfully. Her voice suppressed everyone within two meters while slipping neatly beneath Old Wang’s reading at the front, without disturbing the big boss.

As expected of the class monitor who’d ruled the room since first grade. Her crowd control was impeccable.

Xiang Wenjie shrank back, his pen clattering onto his desk. He turned into a quail on the spot and stared straight ahead.

Chu Hanya was probably the person he feared most in class. Not because he couldn’t beat her in a fight… though that might have been part of it. Mainly, she really would tell the teacher.

I sat up straight, used to it by now.

Chu Hanya shot me a warning look, as if to say, Don’t even think about dragging our first group down. Then she proudly straightened her back and returned her attention to the lesson.

Xiang Wenjie took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at the back of her long-haired head. “Bleh.”

Then I saw Chu Hanya quietly write down his name… Sigh. Poor guy!

That girl really held a grudge.

I hadn’t been lost in thought for long when I felt another faint touch against my back. This time it wasn’t a pen, but a note.

【Luo, want to go to the arcade after school? My brother gave me a whole yuan! They have The King of Fighters ’97 and Knights of Valour. I’ll treat you to a couple of games! And can you teach me how you do mental math so fast?】

【—Zhang Wei】

The chubby boy had passed it over. Since we were neighbors, we’d unexpectedly grown close over the past week.

Friendship between elementary school boys in the millennium was always this plain and simple: the huge sum of one yuan and an old arcade machine were enough to forge an unbreakable bond of comradeship.

I picked up my pencil and wrote in the blank space:

【Can’t. Guitar practice after school.】

It was an excuse.

I’d played all kinds of games, and an arcade like this couldn’t tempt me anymore. After a week of careful thought, though, I had become interested in computers. I knew the future would belong to programmers, after all.

And by the time I’d been reborn, artificial intelligence had grown frighteningly powerful; there were already signs of a wave of job losses.

Stocks and lottery numbers from my old world were useless in this parallel one, but knowledge and the general direction of the future should be much the same. Computers were expensive, though. An elementary school kid asking for one in this era might as well ask to win the lottery.

Lost in thought, I flicked my fingers and sent the crumpled note in a perfect arc into Zhang Wei’s open pencil case.

Beside me, Chu Hanya hadn’t noticed a thing happening right under her nose.

Sunlight filtered through the slightly yellowed curtains, dividing the classroom into patches of light and shadow.

At the front, Old Wang tirelessly explained the structure of Chinese characters. Beside me, my top-student deskmate was still secretly competing for the throne of first place, while Zhang Wei racked his brains over how to spend his fortune of one yuan after school.

I leaned back against the hard wooden chair, propped up my chin, and let my mind wander again.