Chapter 143: [Passing the Imperial Examination] A Bowl of Brains
Bai Cha casually dripped a few extra drops back into the bowl, feigning as though a tiny residue was left at the bottom—no one ever drank traditional Chinese medicine completely bone-dry, after all.
She then shoved the sponges down the gap between the bed and the study desk. Her bedhead and desk happened to face the exact same direction.
There was no wardrobe in this room, only a single bookcase completely packed with all sorts of textbooks and study materials.
Right after she tucked the sponges away, the door behind her burst open with a faint click.
Bai Cha pressed one hand over her mouth, her face pale and ugly. Tears even welled in the corners of her eyes as she dry-heaved twice more. Seeing her mother walk over, she hastily reached out her hand.
Taking the glass of water, Bai Cha tilted her head back and chugged down a large portion in greedy gulps.
Everything looked completely natural, as if she had truly swallowed the medicine.
A look of gratification crossed the mother’s face as she casually picked up the empty medicine bowl.
“Go back to your homework then. Mom won’t disturb you.”
Claiming she wouldn’t disturb her…
There was a small mirror sitting on Bai Cha’s desk.
It was hard to say what this mirror was originally intended for, but its position was placed just right to reflect the doorway—specifically, the slit of the door frame.
In the dark, a pair of eyes was staring fixedly at her.
She said she wouldn’t disturb her, yet the mother was actually standing right there, watching her every move.
Fortunately, Bai Cha actually knew how to solve these problems.
Refraining from doing anything else for the moment, Bai Cha simply focused on solving the test papers.
Then again… maybe she really should have brought Xu Shengsheng into this instance.
What a wonderful opportunity to practice solving practice papers.
However, Xu Shengsheng wouldn’t enter her next instance for another month; her previous clear rating was a C-rank.
Having finished the test paper in front of her, Bai Cha used the motion of packing up the paper to pull her backpack closer.
Flipping through the textbook inside, she finally caught sight of the name belonging to the character she was playing.
It was only natural—when tackling practice problems, one went straight to the problems. Who had the time to write their name unless it was an actual exam?
This character was named Han Yingying.
A Senior Class 3 student at S City No. 1 High School.
She pretended to begin reciting study material, choosing English vocabulary to memorize.
Anyway, as long as it fell under the banner of studying… it shouldn’t pose any issues, right?
The pair of eyes in the mirror indeed showed no further movement.
Inside her livestream room, bullet comments were already drifting across the screen:
[I just cleared an instance, only to find the streamer I follow has entered another one already. How terrifying!]
[First time seeing such a massive instance—58 players!]
[I feel like I’ve scrolled past this instance before. It’s incredibly scary, with an extremely low clear rate.]
[How low?]
[Out of these 58 players, it’ll be a miracle if even 3 make it out alive. To satisfy the parents, you basically have to become the top scorer.]
[??? But there’s only one top scorer, right? It’s not like these players are in different cities.]
[City top scorer, provincial top scorer, and national top scorer—three in total. As for the rest… well…]
[Holy crap? I only got into a third-tier university back in the day. If I got thrown in there, wouldn’t I be dead meat? I don’t remember a single thing now!]
[That’s precisely why the clear rate for this instance is absurdly low!]
[The streamer is memorizing vocabulary so seriously…]
[She was solving those problems super seriously earlier too! I was completely dazed when I first tuned in.]
[Wait, look closely—there’s a pair of eyes behind her in the mirror! Holy shit!]
[Eek, so creepy! No wonder the streamer is studying so hard!]
Too noisy.
It was obstructing her view.
Thus, Bai Cha pretended to reach out for her glass of water, casually toggling the livestream interface off along the way.
She then resumed memorizing her vocabulary and solving practice problems.
Until the door behind her was pushed open once again.
Mother Han tiptoed into the room.
“Time for bed. It’s already one in the morning, and you have to get up at five tomorrow.”
So she was only allowed four hours of sleep?
Bai Cha said nothing, nodding obediently as she packed up her test papers and stationery.
She got up intending to use the bathroom, but Mother Han trailed right behind her.
Bai Cha had no choice but to take a rapid scan of the apartment’s layout as she opened her door.
It was a modest apartment—a two-bedroom, one-living-room unit. The bathroom was visible at a single glance, situated right beside her bedroom.
Fortunately, if the place had been any larger and she couldn’t locate the toilet, it might have raised suspicion.
Still, even though she was just going to the bathroom, was Mother Han going to follow her all the way in?
Thankfully, such an absurd scenario didn’t happen.
Mother Han came to a halt outside the bathroom door.
Bai Cha washed her face and brushed her teeth before raising her head to look into the mirror.
In the reflection, her appearance didn’t differ much from Mother Han’s.
Both bore sallow, gaunt faces with sunken cheeks, showing obvious signs of malnutrition.
The dark circles beneath her eyes were exceptionally heavy, her entire demeanor oozing profound exhaustion.
It… actually looked worse than her real-life condition.
Han Yingying’s facial features bore a strong resemblance to her mother’s—she was actually quite pretty, but she was simply far too gaunt and drained of color. The premature aging brought on by sheer exhaustion made her look less like a high school student and more like a middle-aged woman in her thirties or forties whose career and family had both collapsed.
However, playing such a role carried one distinct advantage: it didn’t require much effort on her part.
This faint, breathless sense of being suffocated under overwhelming pressure was second nature to her.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Mother Han was still standing right there.
“I’m going to sleep now.”
Bai Cha spoke with a numb expression as she walked back into her room and closed the door behind her.
Mother Han didn’t stop her.
Bai Cha genuinely switched off the light and went to sleep, though.
On the first day, having gathered zero concrete clues so far, it was best to behave herself.
Although it seemed on the surface that all she needed to do was study, what was with those dreams?
Bai Cha felt it likely had something to do with the medicine she was given.
Speaking of which, she needed to find an opportunity to retrieve those two sponges.
Closing her eyes, Bai Cha felt a distinct gaze bearing down on her from directly above her head.
The sensation was far too intense, like someone standing face-to-face staring right down at her—she could even feel the chill of the breath blowing past.
She was utterly speechless.
Well…
Looking at it this way, she had to wake up at five in the morning, study non-stop until one in the morning, and then deal with whatever entity was hovering above her head while trying to sleep.
Bai Cha rolled over, switching to a side-sleeping position.
Much better, though that thing was still there.
She had no intention of opening her eyes to look. A high school senior who studied relentlessly day in and day out ought to fall into an exhausted slumber by this point.
The bullet chat room was far livelier:
[Holy crap, what on earth is that?]
[Is it a person? But its face looks completely unrecognizable—looks totally shattered!]
[How can the streamer even fall asleep like this?]
[Since you brought it up, I’m wide awake now! You don’t know this, but the reason I follow this streamer is because she spends half her time in instances sleeping right through!]
[Exactly, exactly! She’s super impressive! And her achievement scores are still S-ranks! Tsk tsk tsk!]
[Huh?]
With her eyes closed the entire time, a wave of sleepiness eventually crept over her.
Just as she felt herself drifting off, her blanket was yanked open.
“Yingying, wake up and eat breakfast! Time for school!”
Bai Cha opened her eyes sluggishly, struggling to sit upright.
She trailed behind Mother Han on unsteady steps, barely managed to splash water on her face, and sat straight down on the sofa.
Food was set out on the coffee table.
A glass of milk.
It looked fairly normal. Just as she picked it up, preparing to drink, she saw Mother Han step out of the kitchen holding a bowl of brain matter.
The pinkish-white brains trembled slightly when placed on the coffee table, visibly springy and soft.
Yet a heavy stench of blood rushed straight at her nose.
It was raw.
“This is a brain matter Mom specially bought for you. Hurry up and eat it—it’s to nourish your brain!”
