Chapter 17: A Bench

“Uncle Lin, hello…”
Lin Dong was speechless, while Yun Lan let out a light laugh.
“Little fatty, can you tell me about the format of these martial and literary competitions?”
The little fatty, who had been anxious, calmed down. It seemed this Uncle Lin wasn’t trying to hold the old man accountable for breaking into his inn.
“The format…” After organizing his thoughts slightly, the little fatty spoke up, “The competitions in the Seven Arts span seven days, with one art contested each day. The first day is calligraphy, the next is archery, followed by governance, rituals, music, mathematics, and martial arts.”
“How are the scores calculated?” Lin Dong asked.
“The Seven Arts are worth 700 points in total, with 100 points for each art. Any academy that accumulates 35 points can secure a spot as a scholar.”
Lin Dong nodded and asked further, “What about the sub-competitions?”
“Each art has varying numbers of sub-competitions. For example, in calligraphy competitions, there are six sub-competitions: pictographic, indicative, associative, phonetic, transfer, and borrowing. Each sub-competition is worth 16 points, with the extra 4 points distributed evenly among the first four. Archery competitions have five sub-competitions: straight arrows, consecutive shots, precise shots, measured distance, and ritualized shooting. Each sub-competition is worth 20 points. The other five arts follow the same pattern—first place in a sub-competition earns 40% of its total score, second place 30%, third place 20%, and fourth place 10%. There are no points for other rankings.”
The little fatty’s worries vanished, and his speech became clearer. Without Lin Dong needing to ask further, he continued, “Each academy can send ten people to compete in each sub-competition. If a student is skilled in both martial and literary arts, they can compete multiple times. For example, Zhou Zhengye is proficient in calligraphy and also good at archery. He participated in all six sub-competitions in calligraphy and all five in archery.”
Lin Dong frowned and asked, “I remember you saying that archery is the competition tomorrow, right?”
“Mm!” The little fatty nodded quickly. After hesitating for a moment, he added obsequiously, “Uncle Lin has such a good memory. You can remember just by hearing it once.”
Lin Dong was speechless. If not for Zhou Zhengye’s good archery skills, he really wouldn’t have remembered what the little fatty had said about tomorrow’s competition. Compared to Fu Zizhou’s camera, which could recall every detail of a hundred types of spirit leaves after just a quick glance a few years ago, this was truly embarrassing.
After thinking for a while, Lin Dong asked, “Is the order of the Seven Arts competitions the same every year?”
The little fatty shook his head. “It changes every year. The order of the Seven Arts and their sub-competitions is determined by the government office.”
“What about the content of the sub-competitions?”

“The competition topics for each sub-event are set by the deans of the ten academies, who then draw lots to determine the specific topics for each sub-event. To prevent any dean from leaking the questions, the topics are decided by drawing lots the night before the competition.”
Lin Dong thought for a moment and smiled, “There must be someone from the government office involved in drawing lots, right?”
“Of course. Otherwise, no one’s drawing would be acceptable.”
Lin Dong nodded. “I have no more questions. Go back to your work!”
The chubby boy, as if pardoned, quickly scurried away.
“If Dou Changkun arrives in the afternoon, this plan will truly be impressive.”
Lin Dong covered his head with both hands and narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Do you suspect Dou Changkun’s advisor is plotting against Qiushui Academy?” Yun Lan asked.
“It depends on when Dou Changkun arrives!” Lin Dong replied leisurely.
Yun Lan glanced at Zhou Zhengye, who was still lost in thought in the tea pavilion, and softly said, “It’s a pity. His mind is already confused. Reminding him is pointless. It’s better to learn from his mistakes.”
Lin Dong smiled but said nothing. Zhou Zhengye was just a girl’s helper, and temporarily at that—nothing to do with him.
On the large sports field, cheers rose and fell. People came and went in the tea pavilion. The results of the second round were quickly announced: Dou Changkun first, Zhou Zhengye third.
The sound of the zither grew increasingly chaotic. Lin Shuang felt pity, but Zhou Zhengye insisted on keeping his promise.
As Lin Dong had predicted, Dou Changkun didn’t show up. Instead, Fu Chunjian came looking for him, but still couldn’t stop Zhou Zhengye from falling behind. By the third round, he had dropped to fifth place, scoring not a single point.
The fourth, fifth, sixth rounds… The zither music was now completely chaotic. The girls all looked gloomy, none daring to look at the desolate Zhou Zhengye. Even Lin Shuang, who had had a rough start in business but was still thriving, showed no sign of joy, which made Lin Dong feel heartache.
Suddenly, the chaotic zither music stopped abruptly.
Lin Dong slightly opened his eyes. The sun was already low in the sky. On the crowded sports field, the crowd was dispersing. It was clear the competitions for the day were over.
“Zhou Zhengye! Do you remember what I said?” Dou Changkun stepped into the tea pavilion, stood in front of Zhou Zhengye, leaned forward, and looked down at him. “I said you’d end up last in all six events. Now, you must believe Fu Chunjian is senile, right?”
“You…” Zhou Zhengye’s eyes were filled with rage, but he couldn’t utter a word.
“Xiao Juan, take some people to pack up. Fatso, drive away those who aren’t related!” Lin Shuang ordered from the side.
“Sure!”

Provoking trouble was the Little Fat Guy’s specialty. Hearing this, how could he possibly object? He immediately called his underlings to gather and then moved toward Dou Changkun.
Dou Changkun sneered coldly, “Students from the host academy beating competitors from other academies in martial arts contests? I’m afraid Fu Chunjian won’t be able to protect you either.”
The underlings were stunned. This was a serious charge—they had only followed the Little Fat Guy around, eating and drinking. If they were expelled for this, it would be a huge loss for them.
The Little Fat Guy also hesitated slightly. He wasn’t afraid of being expelled from the academy, but if that happened, he wouldn’t have the chance to follow Lin Shuang as an underling anymore.
“Relying on some shameless girl to fight for you? Zhou Zhengye, you really think you’re capable.” Dou Changkun started tapping Zhou Zhengye’s head with his folding fan.
Smack!
Zhou Zhengye swiftly swatted the fan away and raised his right fist high.
“What? Want to hit me?” Dou Changkun arrogantly pointed at his face, speaking with disdain, “Then have the guts to hit me here.”
His eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling with anger, yet his tightly clenched fist remained unmoved.
“It’s time for dinner!”
Lin Dong raised his eyebrows slightly, stood up, grabbed the stool under him, and headed toward the tea pavilion.
“Too scared? Xilan City is really a great place—full of worthless cowards…”
As Dou Changkun spat angrily, Lin Dong had already reached him from behind with the stool. He patted Dou Changkun’s shoulder. When he turned around, Lin Dong grinned, “Do you see what I look like now?”
“What?”
A hint of confusion flashed in Dou Changkun’s eyes.
Lin Dong swung the stool wildly and smashed it hard against Dou Changkun’s head.
Bang!
Blood splattered everywhere, a vivid spectacle!
“Daring to call my daughter a shameless girl in front of me? Do you really think I’m an easy target?”
Grabbing Dou Changkun’s bloody head, Lin Dong smashed it against the stool again. With another bang, Dou Changkun collapsed like a worm.
“Little Fat Guy, search him for anything valuable—use it as compensation for dirtying the stool,” Lin Dong ordered.
“Huh?” The Little Fat Guy, used to seeing blood, quickly snapped out of it. He untied Dou Changkun’s money bag with one hand while slapping his face with the other.
“That’s for being arrogant in front of my Uncle Lin, for being arrogant in front of my Sister Lin Shuang…”
Pushing the bloodstained stool toward Zhou Zhengye, Lin Dong laughed, “He’s already unconscious. No one’s paying attention over there. Another swing with the stool?”

Zhou Zhengye hesitated for a moment, glanced at Dou Changkun with his face covered in blood, and ultimately shook his head.
Lin Dong didn’t care either and casually tossed the bench aside.
The dumbfounded girls finally snapped out of their stupor and stared at Lin Dong, who seemed like a god descended from heaven, their eyes shining with admiration!
“Lin Shuang, your father… he’s so mighty!”
“Huh?”
Lin Shuang was in a daze, with only one thought in her mind: Her father is really mighty!