The moment these words were spoken, all the girl students nearby turned to look at Wen Tingli.

“Miss Huang.” Wen Tingli walked toward Huang Yuanshan.

“Weren’t you studying at Xiude? When did you transfer to Wushi?”

“Just today.” Wen Tingli smiled faintly; she wasn’t particularly eager to discuss the topic.

Huang Yuanshan said, “I came to talk to your school’s Arts Department director about something, but she wasn’t in, so I had no choice but to come back out. Have you had breakfast? Let me treat you—”

Wen Tingli pointed toward the school gate, saying with some difficulty, “Can we do it another time? I’m almost late.”

“Then I won’t hold up your enrollment. We’ll talk again later.” Huang Yuanshan got back in the car, stepped on the gas, and drove off down the far end of the main road.

Wen Tingli turned back toward the school gate, but the school porter stopped her. “Little girl, you’re not from our school, are you?”

Wen Tingli took out her “Transfer Student Admission Letter” from her book bag to show the porter, and only then was she allowed in.

Several girls, hearing that Wen Tingli was a transfer student, eagerly gave her directions: “Our Principal Zou is at a meeting in Beiping right now. You should first go find Ms. Michelle — she’s the vice principal in charge of academic affairs, usually working on the first floor of Siyuan Building. See, look, that little white building? That’s it.”

Wen Tingli was pleasantly surprised at how warmly her classmates were treating her, and thanked them all before finding her way to Vice Principal Michelle’s office. Standing at the doorway looking in, she saw a Westerner in a lavender crepe qipao seated behind the desk, working.

Huh — she felt she’d seen this blonde foreigner somewhere before.

“Good day, Principal. I’m transferring in from Xiude Girls’ Middle School.”

Michelle looked up. She appeared to be around forty or fifty, with short student-style hair, sharp blue eyes, a hawk-like nose, and tortoiseshell-colored glasses perched on the bridge of it — her face thin and angular.

Wen Tingli remembered now — she had seen this foreigner at the banquet at the Qiao family’s, where the woman had been chatting intimately with Mrs. Qiao in the garden, seemingly on very good terms.

Michelle was also sizing up Wen Tingli, looking her over from head to toe, then from foot to head again, before saying flatly, “Come in.”

Her Chinese was extremely fluent — if one hadn’t seen her face, one might mistake the voice for that of a native Chinese speaker.

Wen Tingli walked over and placed the transfer admission letter and school records on the desk, bowing slightly to Michelle.

“My name is Wen Tingli. This is my school registration certificate.” She smiled sweetly.

“And your transcript?” Michelle picked up the coffee cup beside her and took a leisurely sip.

“Oh, right here.” Wen Tingli hurried to produce her transcript from the previous semester.

Michelle studied the transcript for a long while before setting down her coffee unhurriedly. “So-so, I suppose. Wushi has always taken it as its mission to send outstanding talent to society and higher institutions of learning. Besides strictly enforcing academic standards, we also conduct periodic character assessments of students — anyone found guilty of misconduct is immediately advised to withdraw or expelled. Miss Wen may attend school here, but you must strictly abide by school discipline.”

Wen Tingli took an envelope from her book bag and handed it to Michelle. “This is a letter of recommendation written for me by Teacher Huang Yun, my homeroom teacher at Xiude. Mr. Huang graduated from the Education Department at Fudan and has always been very responsible toward his students. You’ll see from this letter that I performed very well at Xiude in the past.”

Michelle did not take the letter, only smiling faintly. “As the vice principal responsible for overseeing student conduct, I must look into every transfer student’s background in advance. I’ve already looked into what kind of character Miss Wen has.”

Though her tone carried a smile, her expression did not participate in that smile at all. Wen Tingli again recalled that evening when Michelle and Mrs. Qiao had spoken so warmly together, and couldn’t help feeling a flicker of unease. Just as she was about to say something, Michelle cut her off. “Alright, go collect your uniform first, then report directly to the third-year ‘Seeking Truth’ class.”

As she spoke, she pushed the pile of student handbooks and related materials across the desk. Wen Tingli let out a breath of relief and gathered up the pile of documents. “Thank you, Principal Michelle.”

“Wait.” Michelle tapped her fingers on the desk. “The guardian who arranged your transfer only paid your tuition. You’ll need to pay the miscellaneous fees, meal fees, and textbook fees yourself.”

A slip of paper lay on the desk. Adding up several items, the total came to as much as a hundred silver dollars. Wen Tingli had prepared herself for this, but her temples still throbbed. Wushi was famously an aristocratic girls’ school — students had custom-tailored uniforms for every season, and the school’s meals were said to be equally exquisite.

Fortunately, only the final semester remained. Still, a hundred silver dollars was no small sum. If she could apply for school assistance, that would be even better.

“Is Miss Wen having difficulty?” Michelle asked gently.

“Yes, some difficulty,” Wen Tingli admitted candidly. “I wonder if the school has any assistance measures for students in financial hardship?”

“There is such a thing.” Michelle smiled meaningfully. “But this semester’s allotment has already been used up, and besides, the school’s various scholarships have always been reserved for students of top academic performance. Given Miss Wen’s current grades…”

She sighed discreetly. But Wen Tingli caught a few key words in this remark, and quickly pressed Michelle to confirm: “The school regularly has scholarship opportunities, doesn’t it? When would the next one be?”

Michelle only said, “I have other matters to attend to. You can ask your homeroom teacher if you have questions. Oh, and if you don’t pay the fees in full today, the school will consider you to have automatically forfeited your place.”

Wen Tingli could only carry the pile of things out, find the school’s accounting office to pay the fees, then go to the general affairs department to collect four sets of uniforms.

There were only two third-year classes. Wen Tingli’s new class was called “Seeking Truth,” and the other was called “Rejuvenating the Nation.”

She tiptoed to the door of the Seeking Truth classroom, where countless pairs of eyes immediately turned toward her. At the podium stood a female teacher in a blue cloth qipao paired with a red knitted cardigan — one could tell at a glance she had a gentle temperament, warm and easygoing even while teaching.

Wen Tingli had already learned in advance that this was the homeroom teacher of the Seeking Truth class, named Liu Yuanhua.

“Good day, Teacher Liu.”

“You must be classmate Wen? Please, come in.” Liu Yuanhua warmly led Wen Tingli into the classroom.

She then announced brightly: “This is Wen Tingli, transferring in from Xiude Middle School. From now on she’ll be our new classmate — everyone, please give her a warm welcome with applause.”

The classroom erupted in a sudden burst of applause like a rain shower. Everyone regarded Wen Tingli with curious, friendly eyes, and Wen Tingli smiled and responded to each in turn. Amid the applause, Liu Yuanhua led Wen Tingli to the very last row, saying to a plump, curly-haired girl, “Yan Zhenzhen, let Wen Tingli sit next to you.”

Yan Zhenzhen shrugged and slowly began pulling a heap of her own belongings out of the empty desk beside her. Liu Yuanhua gave Yan Zhenzhen a fond, scolding glare, and once Wen Tingli sat down, leaned over and said, “Take out your Chinese textbook — we just started Lesson Thirteen.”

After class, Liu Yuanhua took Wen Tingli to find her own locker.

“Every student has their own storage locker. You can keep your uniform and textbooks here for now. See that door at the end of the hallway? That’s the recreation hall and washroom — during break time, students often engage in various ladylike leisure activities there. The cafeteria is behind Zhenhua Building; all students, including day students, are required to eat lunch on campus.”

After showing Wen Tingli around, Liu Yuanhua brought her back to the noisy classroom, where Wen Tingli busied herself arranging her textbooks.

Yan Zhenzhen propped up her round chin and lazily sized up Wen Tingli from the side, then suddenly said, “I know you.”

As she spoke, she tossed a cookie into her mouth.

“Oh, is that so?” Wen Tingli smiled and glanced back at her.

“I saw your school’s performance. They said you were Xiude’s school beauty. They also said you…” Yan Zhenzhen deliberately trailed off.

Wen Tingli went back to her own book, reviewing her notes. Yan Zhenzhen waited a good while, but Wen Tingli never picked up the thread, so she pouted. “No fun.”

She sulked and ate a few more cookies while staring out the window, then couldn’t help but turn back around.

“Hey, you — aren’t you curious what people say about you behind your back?”

Wen Tingli looked at her with a baffled expression. “Whatever they say is their business — what does it have to do with me?”

Yan Zhenzhen blinked, then burst out laughing, clapping her hands together.

“Good, good, you’re an interesting one.” She wiped her hands with a handkerchief and proactively shook Wen Tingli’s hand. “I’m Yan Zhenzhen. It’s your first day — ask me anything you don’t understand.”

She then pushed the exquisite tin of cookies beside her toward Wen Tingli. “My father brought these back from Belgium. Better than the cookies at Café Federal — try one.”

Wen Tingli tasted one: “This is really good!”

She bent her head again to take notes. Yan Zhenzhen leaned over to look, and it was exactly the key points Teacher Liu had just covered in class.

“Do you really have to be this diligent?”

Wen Tingli turned to her instead: “Actually, I wanted to ask you — what scholarship programs does our school have?”

“Scholarships? Why are you asking… let me think, there’s usually one for whoever places first in the final exams each year, and also for whoever places first in the quarterly exams.”

She pointed at a tall, thin girl in the front row and said quietly, “Like her — Chen Xiaohong. She got in on a tuition waiver. Her father passed away last year, and their family’s in real financial trouble, but because she places first every single time, these past two years the scholarship money she’s brought home has been far more than the wages her older brother earns working at a bookstore. Honestly, the school has always been very generous to truly outstanding students.”

Wen Tingli gazed at the girl’s back in awe. Earlier in class, she had just heard this Chen Xiaohong answer a question, citing broadly and drawing inferences with ease — that kind of deep foundation wasn’t something she could catch up to in a short time.

“Are there any other financial aid programs besides these?”

“There are.” Yan Zhenzhen held her pen between her philtrum and upper lip, alternately propping it up and letting it drop, thoroughly entertained by her own game. “For instance, if you represent the school and win a citywide award, the school will reward you generously too. Last year in the ‘Rejuvenating the Nation’ class, there was a girl named Meng Lin who won first place in a plum-blossom poetry competition held by that group of old scholars at the Sino-Western private academy, and the school gave her five hundred silver dollars on the spot, calling it the ‘Yuying Scholarship.'”

Five hundred silver dollars?! Wen Tingli’s eyes lit up.

“It was splashed across all the major newspapers for three days at the time — you’ve probably heard of it. But the Yuying Scholarship has to be approved by someone from the Lu family before it’s issued.”

As she spoke, Yan Zhenzhen pointed upward. “That’s our school’s chief board trustee, Old Mr. Lu.”

Wen Tingli grew more and more interested, eager to head to the library and check the newspapers for recent drama competitions.

“Are you serious? Hey, wait a second — students aren’t allowed to enter outside competitions privately, you need approval from the board of trustees in advance. But it seems Old Mr. Lu isn’t in Shanghai right now — are you thinking of going to find that young Mr. Lu for his signature? If you actually won a prize, wouldn’t you have to receive the check from his own hands?”

Wen Tingli said in surprise, “What’s wrong with that?”

“The old man, fine, but young Mr. Lu isn’t much older than us — I heard he’s only twenty this year, and he’s said to have quite the personality. I wouldn’t have the nerve to ask someone like that for money face to face.” Yan Zhenzhen frowned and laughed, troubled.

Wen Tingli was amused by her and asked curiously, “Why do you say he has quite the personality? Is this young Master Lu hard to deal with?”

“No, no, no — from what I’ve heard, this young Mr. Lu is actually very easy to deal with, it’s just that he does things with strong principles. As soon as he took over the Lu family, he gave out big bonuses to the tens of thousands of workers, increased employee leave, improved dormitory conditions, and even set up some kind of profit-sharing system — infuriated his grandfather half to death. At the time, everyone said young Mr. Lu was squandering the family fortune, and predicted the Lu family’s businesses would shrink rapidly. But not even half a year later, the rubber factory and sugar mill’s profits had doubled. Since then, everyone from top to bottom has been utterly convinced by him. But in those first six months, the Lu family really went through a bloodbath — everyone outside expected young Mr. Lu wouldn’t be able to hold on, but he calmly weathered it as if nothing were happening. That’s why people say he has real grit and personality.”

Yan Zhenzhen was a wonderful storyteller, and Wen Tingli listened with great relish. Just then, Liu Yuanhua brought a young female teacher over to find Wen Tingli.

“This is Ms. Chen from the Academic Affairs Office. She has something to discuss with you.”

Wen Tingli, not understanding what was going on, hurriedly put down her pen and followed Liu Yuanhua out.

That Ms. Chen said coldly, “According to school regulations, every transfer student must take a placement exam upon entering. The staff from the Academic Affairs Office have already arrived. You’ll be tested separately shortly. Come with me.”

Wen Tingli looked at Liu Yuanhua in bewilderment; Liu Yuanhua also looked startled and puzzled, whispering to Wen Tingli halfway there: “In past years there was indeed a test for transfer students, but it was usually mainly an interview. This year, perhaps because Principal Zou is away, Vice Principal Michelle temporarily added a written exam. Don’t worry — you just transferred in, the questions shouldn’t be too difficult.”

At the small classroom, a row of teachers sat waiting, Principal Michelle prominently among them.

Wen Tingli bowed nervously and sat down, and the moment she looked at the exam paper, her heart sank.

The first essay question was “The Impact of the French Revolution on European Industrial Development” (note).

The math problems were even more obscure and tricky.

She struggled through it for an hour, stammering through her answers, while the elderly gentlemen above began whispering amongst themselves. Ms. Chen grew increasingly impatient, and the moment time was up, snatched the paper away without a word.

Wen Tingli had no confidence at all in how she’d done. In the afternoon, Liu Yuanhua again brought Ms. Chen over to find Wen Tingli.

“The results are in,” Ms. Chen said bluntly. “You only got one question right each in Chinese and math, and you failed English too. The teachers in the Academic Affairs Office are now in an uproar — this score is worse than even the worst student’s. Compared to student numbers, the school has always valued student quality more; a student at your level should be advised to withdraw immediately.”

Liu Yuanhua was shocked. “How could that be — I’ve seen Wen Tingli’s past transcripts, and given her usual level, she absolutely shouldn’t have done this poorly.”

Ms. Chen looked at Liu Yuanhua meaningfully. “Teacher Liu, are you questioning the fairness of this exam? Don’t forget it was Principal Michelle and the Academic Affairs Office who proctored it just now, and you were present too.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just think that since it’s Wen’s first day, perhaps she simply wasn’t used to Wushi’s exam style and didn’t perform well — to withdraw her over this seems—”

Ms. Chen said, “Principal Michelle took that into consideration, which is why she just called an emergency meeting with several trustees currently at the school. The final decision is: Wen Tingli will be permitted to study here through graduation, but in order not to affect the overall quality of this year’s graduating class, the school does not agree to let her sit the university entrance exam under Wushi’s academic registration. The joint exam is at the end of August — given Wen’s current level, there’s no way she can catch up in such a short time. If she were forced to sit the exam under this school’s registration, it would inevitably affect the reputation of the entire graduating class.”

Wen Tingli’s head buzzed. She had transferred to Wushi specifically to prepare for university — if they wouldn’t give her a registration here, wouldn’t she have to go back to Xiude for a certificate of enrollment? Mrs. Qiao would never agree to that, not even if it killed her.

Wait. She knew exactly where the problem lay. “I’d like to see Ms. Michelle.”

“I’ll go with you,” Liu Yuanhua said quickly.

Michelle was leisurely watering her flowers in her office and did not turn around at the knock.

“What is it?”

“Principal Michelle, it’s Wen Tingli’s first day of enrollment — she’s still in the adjustment period. Might the school consider giving her time to adjust before administering the placement test, and take the higher of the scores in the end?”

“No problem. If both you and Wen Tingli have objections to this test score, we can retest in a week, or even a month, if you like.”

Something clicked in Wen Tingli’s mind — it seemed that no matter how many times she retested, Michelle would always have some way to ensure she never achieved an “ideal” score.

Recalling the complicated look Michelle had given her that morning, Wen Tingli was almost certain this vice principal had been influenced by Mrs. Qiao. No wonder Mrs. Qiao had agreed so readily that day — this was the trap waiting for her all along. She could practically picture Mrs. Qiao’s most smug, satisfied smile. Infuriatingly, Michelle had covered her tracks so seamlessly on the surface that even if other trustees raised doubts, no one would have the patience to go back and re-examine the exam questions.

Besides, who would offend a vice principal for the sake of one student?

“Does Classmate Wen have any further objections?” Michelle sat down gracefully. “The school is simply following its regulations — I hope you’ll understand. After all, our school’s mission is to cultivate talent, not coddle mediocrity.”

Wen Tingli cleared her throat. “I just finished memorizing the Wushi Middle School student code of conduct. I recall Article 48 states: any student who receives the Yuying Scholarship will be recognized as a first-tier outstanding graduate of Wushi. Since I’d be a first-tier honor student, surely the school wouldn’t refuse to grant registration — did I recall that rule correctly?”

Michelle’s gaze bore straight through her lenses at Wen Tingli, and she said slowly, “There is such a rule. However, the ‘Yuying Scholarship’ is established for students who win first place in citywide competitions. Is Classmate Wen exceptional at poetry? Translation? Western science, perhaps? Or does she have some outstanding artistic talent?”

By the end, a thick, mocking smile had gathered at the corners of her mouth.

“Since the school has this rule, I’m willing to sign up and give it a try. Once I win the award, I hope the Principal will personally issue my registration certificate to me.”

Michelle nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Certainly, we’ll see. Yuanhua, I need to go to the Education Bureau. You may take Classmate Wen and go.”

Liu Yuanhua led Wen Tingli away, and on the way back couldn’t help saying, “Vice Principal Michelle is in charge of student academics — even Principal Zou defers to her judgment on this. Sigh! There are only a bit over two months left until graduation — in such a short time, are you really confident you can win the ‘Yuying Scholarship’? That’s extremely difficult.”

“It’s fine. I have to try regardless.”

By the end of the day, Wen Tingli had basically gotten familiar with her new classmates. Taking the opportunity of chatting with them, she also asked around and learned the names and preferences of all the current members of the school’s drama club.

Toward evening, she parted ways with Yan Zhenzhen and the others at the school gate and headed alone toward the tram across the street. It was a pity she hadn’t had the chance to talk more with Huang Yuanshan that morning — finding this director again now wouldn’t be easy.

Suddenly she spotted two men standing under a plane tree off to the side. They had come again!

Wen Tingli recalled how these two men had stood by and let Qiu Lingyun bully her the night before, and anger surged up inside her. She glared viciously at them, then turned and walked the other way, when a familiar voice called out from behind.

“Miss Wen.”

She turned to see Huang Yuanshan leaning against her car door, waving to her.

Wen Tingli was overjoyed. Huang Yuanshan walked toward her with a beaming smile. “There’s a decent foreign-run café nearby — let me treat you to something. Don’t refuse me right away, Miss Wen — I know you’re not too keen on this line of work, we can just chat a little, hear me out—”

Wen Tingli surprised her by cutting in first: “Where’s that café? Let’s go.”

Huang Yuanshan was a straightforward, quick-spoken sort. She’d barely sat down before she got straight to the topic of film.

“Miss Wen, I’ll bet you’ll like this script. It’s called A Beauty from the South, and the lead is a schoolgirl — about your age, in fact. It was written by the famous Beiping writer Yue Zhaoyun — written really well too. The moment I got the script, I had several of our company’s actresses do screen tests, but either their ages weren’t right or their bearing didn’t fit. Looking for the right lead, I’ve recently been turning my attention to the drama clubs of all the major schools in Shanghai — that’s why I came bright and early to find your school’s arts department director, only to come up empty. But never did I imagine Miss Wen herself would be interested — that couldn’t be better!”

The moment this person started talking about film, her whole face lit up.

Wen Tingli said earnestly, “Director Huang, I personally have no bias whatsoever against making films, but on one hand, my father doesn’t quite understand this profession, and I worry the old man might not be able to accept it. On the other hand, I’m still in school, and acting absolutely cannot be allowed to affect my studies.”

“It won’t delay your schoolwork at all — I’m fairly well acquainted with your Principal Zou Zheping, I’ll coordinate the filming schedule with the school in advance.”

Wen Tingli’s heart leapt with joy, but she still didn’t commit.

Huang Yuanshan chuckled. “Is Miss Wen worried I won’t pay you properly? Don’t worry, our company would never lowball you just because you’re still a student. Before filming starts, we’ll negotiate a price and sign a formal contract — everything aboveboard and legal.”

“Payment is secondary.” Wen Tingli feigned deep thought. “Society still holds a great deal of prejudice against actors. I can agree to appear in your company’s film, but I need a proper, formal pretext.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d like Miss Huang to organize a formal drama competition jointly with the major middle schools of Shanghai. I would then enter as a representative of Wushi Girls’ Middle School.”

Huang Yuanshan was stunned.

“Director Huang, think about it — anyone who enters such a competition would necessarily be among the students most passionately interested in drama across all the schools. After one competition, wouldn’t your company have no trouble finding fresh new talent who’s both youthful and skilled at acting?”

Huang Yuanshan’s brow lifted. This was actually a good idea. Last year, to scout new talent, the company had funded the “Miss Shanghai” pageant, but the top three chosen, while beautiful enough, knew nothing about acting.

She was a decisive woman; after a moment’s thought, she made up her mind at once. “I’ll get it organized right away. But a competition like this takes at least a month or two at minimum — my new film is about to start shooting, how can it wait that long?”

Wen Tingli smiled wryly. “Honestly, I don’t have time to act in a film right now anyway. I need to prepare for graduation exams, and besides, my father is seriously injured and hospitalized — I have to stay at the hospital every night to help take care of him. Once we’re done talking, I need to hurry back there.”

Huang Yuanshan was taken aback. “Your father is in the hospital? I’m sorry, I had no idea about your family’s situation. Which hospital? Let me go see him with you later.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Sister Huang. I just want to say — getting into university matters more to me than anything.” Wen Tingli glanced thoughtfully at the gate of Wushi across the street. “I’ve run into a bit of a difficulty at school recently. This drama competition matters a great deal to me. My request is this: once I win first place in this competition, your company should then, in the name of the organizer, invite me — the champion — to appear in A Beauty from the South. That way, the public will know exactly why I took the role, and when my father eventually hears the news, he’ll find it much easier to accept.”

“I see.” Huang Yuanshan’s face showed sympathy. “But — is Miss Wen so confident she’ll win the championship?”

Wen Tingli laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them, and gave Huang Yuanshan a dazzlingly bright smile. “It’s never occurred to me that I might fail.”

Huang Yuanshan blinked, then immediately framed Wen Tingli’s face with her thumb and index finger, forming a little rectangle.

“Yes, yes, exactly that angle — this face, whether in close-up or wide shot, is simply outstanding. Miss Wen, you’re this beautiful and this confident — you were simply born for the art of film.”

She grew more and more excited, rubbing her hands together. “Let me think where to start. Step one, for a competition like this we first need the approval of the board of trustees of all the major middle schools involved… Actually, come with me to see someone first.”

“See who?”

“Your school’s chief board trustee — Lu Shicheng. This morning, when I came by, your vice principal mentioned that Lu Shicheng might be heading back to Nanyang tomorrow. If we want to get this done, we need to rush over and get Lu Shicheng’s signature first. With Wushi Girls’ Middle School taking the lead, we can naturally rally Xiude, Huizhen, and other Shanghai schools to join in too. Come on, while it’s still light out, let’s head straight to the Lu residence.”