The bell rang, sharp and metallic, cutting through the chatter of the classroom.
A teacher strutted in, heels clicking against the floor, her perfume lingering in the air. She carried herself with the arrogance of someone who thrived on power over the weak. Every student straightened in their seats.
"Today's test," she said, voice crisp, "will determine who among you is diligent… and who is destined to fail."
Her eyes swept the room. Predictably, her gaze softened when it landed on the wealthy heirs—students with expensive watches, branded bags, and family names that carried weight. She even gave a smile, sweet but fake.
But when her gaze flicked toward the back rows—the section where the poorer students sat—it turned cold, disdain dripping from her tone.
"I won't expect much from some of you," she sneered. "After all, excellence isn't for everyone."
A ripple of laughter broke out. The rich kids chuckled, throwing mocking glances at those seated behind. Su Ning felt more than one pair of eyes stab at her, waiting for her to squirm.
Her pen tapped lightly against the desk, her face calm. Inside, her heart was steady.
The teacher began passing the test sheets down each row. "Three questions," she announced, voice deliberate. "Mathematics, English, and history. Simple enough for the prepared."
The paper landed in front of Su Ning. She scanned the questions once, her eyes lighting up. Familiar. Every single one. Her hours of study last night unfolded like a map in her mind.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile.
Meanwhile, behind her, Shen Luoluo leaned back in her chair, smirking. She nudged Shen Mixi with her elbow. "Watch her fail again. Last time she couldn't even answer half the paper."
Shen Mixi snickered. "Maybe this time she'll just leave it blank."
The insults didn't reach Su Ning. Her pen was already moving. Smooth strokes, confident lines. Her handwriting was sharp, precise—so unlike the sloppy scrawl of her old, struggling days.
Minutes ticked by.
Her classmates hunched over their desks, chewing on their pens, brows furrowed, some already panicking. Yet Su Ning's hand never faltered.
Ten minutes later, she set her pen down.
The silence of her finished paper was deafening.
She stood up, the legs of her chair scraping softly against the floor. Heads turned. Gasps fluttered through the room.
"She's done? Already?"
"No way… she must've given up."
"She probably just scribbled anything, as usual."
Whispers escalated into chuckles.
Even the teacher arched a brow, lips curling into a mocking smile. "Finished, Su Ning? You might at least pretend to try."
Su Ning's gaze didn't flicker. She walked to the front with unhurried grace, laid her paper on the desk, and returned to her seat, her expression calm.
That calmness only fed the gossip.
"She really thinks she's smart now?"
"She's just showing off. Wait until the results come out."
But none of their words pierced her composure. Su Ning leaned back in her chair, eyes half-lidded, as though she were the one watching them struggle instead.
The test dragged on. Pens scratched, sighs echoed, and the teacher's sharp heels clicked against the tiles as she circled. By the time the final student handed in their paper, the air was thick with sweat and tension.
Yet Su Ning sat in silence, an island of serenity in the storm of doubt and ridicule.
And in that moment, though no one admitted it aloud, more than a few students felt uneasy.