THE OVERPOWERING ODYSSEY OF A “FISH-TANK” GENIUS

The classroom was buzzing with an electric excitement that usually only reserved for celebrity sightings. A new transfer student, Su Ya, stood poised at the blackboard, her chalk moving with practiced grace as she dismantled a complex Mathematical Olympiad problem.

“Incredible! A literal teenage prodigy!” the classmates whispered in awe. Even the teacher nodded in profound approval.

I, however, remained slumped over my desk, my eyelids refusing to budge more than a millimeter. In the chaotic theater of my mind, I was far from impressed. Choose C. The auxiliary line is drawn wrong, sister. That’s pure rote learning; you’re filling that out like you’re using your feet.

To my left, Jiang Ci—the legendary “Scholar God” who never scored less than a perfect 100—suddenly pressed his pen so hard it tore through his test paper. I shifted my position to find a more comfortable spot for my nap, my mental monologue continuing its relentless critique: This ‘Scholar God’ isn’t all he’s cracked up to be either. How can he not see such a basic error? Fake scholars are everywhere these days. Honestly, I’d be better off learning to operate an excavator at Lan Xiang Vocational School; at least that’s practical.

You see, I had transmigrated into a sugary high school romance novel. My role? The “slacker” seatmate who did nothing but sleep. According to the plot, Jiang Ci was supposed to be captivated by the transfer student’s intellect. But for some reason, the plot was deviating. Fast.

“Lin Xi.”

Jiang Ci’s voice was like velvet over gravel. I rubbed my eyes, feigning a dazed confusion. “Yes, Classmate Jiang? If you’re here to borrow money, the answer is no. If you’re here for me, definitely no.”

Jiang Ci leaned down. His eyes were startlingly beautiful, so close I could count his eyelashes. Panic flared in my chest. Brother, back off! Su Ya is going to incinerate me with her glare. Also, you look like you want to eat someone… please tell me you didn’t find the chocolate I hid in your desk.

Jiang Ci’s lip twitched. He took a deep breath as if suppressing a monumental urge to laugh—or scream. “I’m not here for money.”

“Then what?”

“I want to hear about it.” His fingers tapped the desk rhythmically. “The operational principles of a Lan Xiang excavator. How ‘practical’ are they, exactly?”

My brain felt like it had been hit by a localized supernova. Wait… I didn’t say that out loud. I definitely didn’t open my mouth! I stared at him, horrified, as a thousand lines of “bullet chat” scrolled through my mind: Can this guy read minds? Impossible! Supernatural beings have been banned since 1949! Or did I talk in my sleep? My ‘cool slacker’ persona is crumbling, and now I’m a closet excavator enthusiast. This plot is cursed!

Jiang Ci’s face darkened. “Not talking in your sleep. Not a supernatural being. Now,” he leaned in closer, “tell me exactly where that auxiliary line went wrong.”

I swallowed hard. The plot was now so broken even its own mother wouldn’t recognize it.

At that moment, Su Ya approached, clutching her solved problem with a perfect, practiced smile. “Jiang Ci, wasn’t my solution just now flawless? Even the teacher praised me.” She pointedly ignored me, leaning toward him in a classic “white lotus” move.

In my head, I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain. Flawless? My foot. You messed up from step one and forced the answer. You can only fool these high schoolers. If Jiang Ci actually praises you, I’ll livestream myself washing my hair while doing a headstand.

Jiang Ci didn’t even glance at her. He kept his eyes locked on mine and spoke, his voice cold: “It was wrong from the very first step. You just forced an answer.”

Su Ya’s smile froze. My jaw dropped. Wait, those were my exact thoughts!

“You call yourself a prodigy?” Jiang Ci continued, ruthless. “Go back and relearn junior high geometry.” He then grabbed my wrist. “Come with me.”

He dragged me to a dead-end corner of the hallway. He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of me, pinning me in. To an outsider, it looked like a romantic “kabedon.” To me, it felt like an interrogation at a black site.

“Start talking,” he commanded.

“Talk about what?” I squeaked, playing the fool. “I’m just a bottom-tier student, Classmate Jiang. That excavator stuff? I just made it up!”

Inside, I was screaming: What do you want from me?! I was a top-tier gifted student at Tsinghua University in my past life, okay? I can solve these problems in my sleep, but if I do, I’ll be forced into competitions and academic wars. I just want to nap!

Jiang Ci’s eyebrows shot up. “Tsinghua Gifted Class?”

My heart stopped. He really could hear everything. I immediately held my breath, trying to empty my mind. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep…

“Stop counting sheep,” Jiang Ci sneered. He pulled out his phone, displaying a notoriously difficult physics problem. I looked at it instinctively. My brain immediately mapped the force vectors and calculated the equations. The friction direction is reversed. The acceleration is wrong. Choose B. Don’t use the Work-Energy Theorem; just apply Conservation of Energy and it’s done.

“Too many words… makes my head hurt,” I lied through my teeth.

“Choose B. Conservation of Energy,” Jiang Ci read my thoughts aloud.

I slumped against the wall, defeated. “Jiang Ci, what do you want? Are you an alien sent to torture me?”

A flicker of genuine amusement danced in his eyes. “Nothing. I just find it… interesting to have a ‘Tsinghua Gifted’ seatmate. I won’t expose you. But from now on, you do my homework.”

“Why?! You’re the Scholar God!”

“I’m lazy,” he said simply.

Lazy?! You’re a capitalist vampire! A blood-sucking exploiter!

“Insult me one more time in your head,” Jiang Ci warned, “and I’ll double the workload.”

The mid-term results were a massacre.

1. Jiang Ci: 745

2. Lin Xi: 740

3. Su Ya: 680

The class erupted. Su Ya was hysterical, accusing me of cheating. To prove my “innocence,” Jiang Ci—ever the chaotic mastermind—convinced the school to hold a live-streamed “duel” using an old IMO (International Math Olympiad) problem.

Su Ya sat next to me, eyes closed, clearly communicating with some “System” in her head. I just yawned. The problem was a modified version of a 20-year-old IMO question. I didn’t even need scratch paper.

Ten minutes later, I put my pen down. “Done.”

The judges were stunned. Su Ya was still scribbling furiously. When the head of the Math department saw my paper, he slammed the table. “Genius! This solution is more elegant than the official key! She’s using concepts from Algebraic Topology!”

Su Ya crumbled. Her “System” had failed because Jiang Ci had sabotaged the parameters of the problem. As she fell into disgrace, Jiang Ci leaned over to me. “What do you want as a reward, my Excavator Queen?”

“Don’t call me that! It’s embarrassing!”

But the “white lotus” wasn’t finished. During the National Olympiad training camp, Su Ya tried to steal my notebook—a collection of advanced mechanical designs for an automated excavator. Little did she know, Jiang Ci had helped me “edit” the blueprints.

When she tried to present them as her own research to the professors, the “sabotaged” math caused the simulated machine to malfunction. Instead of a revolutionary excavator, it turned into an “automated stir-fry machine” that shook violently on screen. The room roared with laughter.

“I told you,” I whispered to a sobbing Su Ya as I stepped up to the stage to fix the equations and reveal the true, flawless design. “The auxiliary line was wrong from the start.”

That night, under the moonlight at the stadium, Jiang Ci cornered me again.

“Lin Xi, who are you really?” his voice was low, heavy with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “The original Lin Xi couldn’t solve a simple linear equation. You know Topology. You know heavy machinery. And your ‘inner voice’… it’s different.”

I decided to go all in. “Fine. I’m a transmigrator. I’m from another world. I’m just a passerby here. Once I’m done, I’m going back.”

Jiang Ci’s grip on my wrists tightened. “Going back? To a world with WiFi and watermelons?”

“Yes.”

“No,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“By what authority do you stop me?”

“By the fact that I love you.”

Before I could process the “Scholar God” confessing to me, the shadows shifted. Su Ya, driven mad by her failing System, lunged at us with a utility knife. “If I kill you, I’ll get my luck back! I am the female lead!”

Jiang Ci reacted instantly, pulling me behind him. The blade sliced his arm, staining his white shirt crimson.

Seeing his blood caused something in me to snap. My “Tsinghua” brain went dark, replaced by pure, unadulterated rage. I stepped out and delivered a kick to Su Ya’s midsection that would have made a Lan Xiang excavator proud. As she fell, I pinned her down.

“You want to be the female lead? You want to kill people? I think your problem is that you just don’t have enough homework!”

A spark of blue light flickered—the System was detaching from her. Su Ya fainted.

I turned back to Jiang Ci, my eyes welling with tears. “You idiot! Why did you block that? I could have dodged!”

Jiang Ci used his uninjured hand to wipe my tears, a smirk playing on his pale lips. “Instinct. Besides, I can’t let my ‘Excavator Queen’ get scratched.”

I wanted to bite him, but I knew then that I was caught. The world of WiFi and watermelons didn’t seem so important anymore.

“Fine,” I grumbled, leaning into his touch. “But you’re still doing the report on the excavator principles.”

Jiang Ci laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. “Deal.”