After Li Qingrong finished throwing, everyone was dumbfounded. Except for the first arrow that missed, all the others hit. No technique, just a good feel. Chai Muying was instantly in despair; she originally wanted to compete and win some prizes. "The class monitor is really accurate, isn’t she?" Yao Beibei came purely to have fun. After joint exams, anything is more interesting than staying in the classroom for evening self-study. She clapped her hands, "That’s not bad, there’s a chance our class might actually win the championship." The other girls had similar thoughts. The class monitor being so accurate at pot throwing took away their joy directly. The reaction among the boys was quite the opposite. The ones who had already thrown were slapping their thighs in regret. "Damn, if I’d known, I would’ve taken it more seriously!" The boys who hadn’t thrown yet were filled with combat spirit, putting away their casual attitudes, ready to give it their all. Xie Zhihao glanced at Li Qingrong several times, suddenly realizing that the class monitor’s looks had reached the level of being astonishingly beautiful. Hey? She’s the class monitor? Wasn’t the class monitor that girl named Cai Xiang? She seemed to be running around handling all the class matters. Could it be that the person in front of me is... a vice-class monitor? Liu Yang glanced at the remaining boys who hadn’t thrown yet, like Tom in "Tom and Jerry," leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue, showing a regretful expression. Kids, hell lies ahead. Xie Zhihao and Jiang Nian weren’t in the same queue. Xie Zhihao was intensely focused on the front. The current best male score was five hits out of ten throws. If only he could hit six times... Jiang Nian was in the other queue, and it was his turn next. He turned to look at Luo Yong, hesitating. "How about you go first?" "No, no, no, you go first." Luo Yong habitually refused; he preferred to be at the back no matter what. Jiang Nian said, "If I throw first, you might not want to throw anymore." "No way, you go ahead." Luo Yong even stepped back, as if queuing for a shot. He was a typical 50-point guy, not as addicted to his phone as Zeng You, nor as silent as Luo Zhongping. Half optimistic, half self-deprecating. His hopes for the college entrance exam were to aim for Nanjing University or at least secure a spot at East China Traffic University; as long as he graduates, then he’ll! Four years of college, unnoticed, and then heading to Shenzhen with a backpack. Jiang Nian thought for a moment and forcibly placed him in front. Luo Yong couldn’t resist and was forced to start throwing. Next to him, Xie Zhihao was throwing with his butt up, hitting six out of ten. From sweating profusely to making a card expression meme, [Ah, happiest today]. Luo Yong looked intimidated, but surprisingly, he hit four out of eight on his first try, making Xie Zhihao, who was halfway to celebrating with champagne, nervous. However, Luo Yong messed up on his ninth throw. With a clang, the arrow missed the pot. "Yes!" Xie Zhihao exhaled slightly, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, "Honestly, it’s a bit of a shame." Luo Yong smiled and didn’t speak, his palm drenched with sweat. Jiang Nian picked up the arrow, suddenly feeling someone watching him. He saw it was Li Qingrong, who quickly looked away. Not lingering, he barely looked at the pot’s opening. Quickly threw all ten arrows consecutively; one still flying, the second already launched. Thud, thud, like pearls falling on a jade plate. All ten arrows fell into the pot, the sound crisp and pleasant. The room instantly fell silent, Lao Liu, who was on a call by the door, was speechless at the sight. Liu Yang covered his face, not even wanting to look. If it weren’t for him holding a position as a sports commissioner, he wouldn’t be here with Jiang Nian present. Xie Zhihao was stunned; he worked so hard for a six out of ten. Turning his head, he saw Jiang Nian’s effortless ten-in-a-row. He was struggling to accept it, unable to believe his eyes. The girls’ reactions were even more exaggerated, with Yao Beibei walking straight over, planning to roll up his sleeve to see if he cheated. "What are you doing?" "Using some tech hack?" Yao Beibei found no mechanism in his sleeve, "Where’s it hidden, you sneaky guys." "Pants..." Jiang Nian kept a straight face and said calmly. Yao Beibei touched her chin, "Wait till I get a round-faced, bushy-bearded guy over." Li Qingrong stood not far away, listening to the two girls excitedly chatting. She silently withdrew her gaze, looking elsewhere. Lao Liu stopped his call, sending all the failed participants back and keeping Jiang Nian and Li Qingrong for a talk. In the vast activity room, only the three of them remained. "Ahem." Lao Liu cleared his throat, glanced at Jiang Nian and then at Li Qingrong, a hint of pain flashed in his eyes. Why pull them together again! But there’s an old Chinese saying: since you’re here. Since we’ve reached this point, let’s motivate them to win the prize first. "This pot throwing competition was decided by a director experimenting with educational reform; he secured a large sum of money..." "So, this traditional-style pot throwing game has high honor rewards; there’s direct prize money, you should really try to win it." Hearing this, Jiang Nian asked, "Teacher, do all classes have to participate?" "Yes, all senior year classes." Lao Liu said, then added, "No distinction between arts and sciences, and the prize money is significant." Li Qingrong looked indifferent, unmoved whether hearing about the honor or the prize money, quietly standing aside listening. Jiang Nian asked again, "How much... and what’s the salary?" Seeing someone’s thumb and index finger mimicking counting money, Lao Liu almost lost it. He kept a straight face, unhappy, questioning.