Chapter Forty-Five: The Computer Selection Competition (Part One)

A Legend of My Rebirth

The blazing summer sun poured through the deep green leaves, casting mottled patches of light across the verdant earth. The fresh scent of soil filled this heated world, making it as pure and clear as the azure sky above, utterly untainted by dust. Summer was the very emblem of vitality, the season of burning passion, and in this season...

“In this season, beauties often dress lightly, skirts fluttering in the breeze. Each time the wind stirs, it lifts those pairs of enchanting legs beneath the hems, igniting a thousand daydreams and stirring color in the heart...”

Bang! “Ouch… Who threw that at my head!” Just as Zhang Li was admiring the procession of girls entering through the school gates—each pair of long legs beneath short skirts stirring his literary musings and fantasies—a can of cola landed squarely on his head. Furious and about to curse aloud, he looked up to find a young woman in green standing not far off, glaring at him in anger. In an instant, his expression turned into a picture of misery.

“Ah… ha ha, what a fine day, isn’t it? Lili, you’re back from lunch?” Grinning sheepishly, Zhang Li hurried over to Wang Lili, taking her bag from her hands. “Let’s hurry, the competition is about to start inside. Just look at all the students from other schools, so many—”

“So many pretty girls, is it?” Wang Lili’s cool tone wiped the smile from Zhang Li’s face. He hurriedly covered, laughing, “No, of course not! In my eyes, only you, Lili, are truly beautiful... ha ha…”

“Ha, you rascal! I think you’re nothing but a lecher!” With a sharp rap on his head, Wang Lili shot him a glare, then turned and strode toward the school gate.

“Ouch… Lili, wait for me! Wait!” Poor Zhang Li, rubbing his sore head, could only follow after her amid the sympathetic glances of the crowd.

“Good afternoon, leaders, teachers, and fellow students. I’m Xu Hailan from No. 4 High School, and I’ll be your host for today’s competition. Thank you to all the students who came to watch, braving the summer heat to gather here in our gymnasium. Now, I officially announce the start of the 1997 National Computer Competition, C City Division!” As the beautiful host announced the beginning with a smile, the entire gym erupted in applause.

With a packed audience and raucous cheers, I found myself gradually immersed in the scene. But I hadn’t forgotten why I was here. Today, I would face off against that young lady opposite me—our first true contest.

A pair of bright, beautiful eyes—though brimming with hostility and disdain—had been fixed on me from the start. I knew it was Chu Qitong’s unfriendly gaze, so I shot her a nonchalant look in return, which made her pout in frustration, nearly on the verge of an outburst. She sat at computer number thirteen, waving a tiny fist at me in protest, but I pretended not to notice and busied myself familiarizing with the machine.

Hmm, a Pentium MMX 133 CPU, 4MB graphics card, 16MB RAM—almost identical to Su Xin’s setup. At the thought of Su Xin, I glanced over to our class’s section and saw her gazing at me with encouragement. She nodded and gestured for me to do my best. Glancing at the judges’ table, I recognized Uncle Chu, whom I’d met at Su Xin’s house last time. I gave him a polite smile; he seemed surprised at first, but then his look shifted to one of pleasant recognition.

“Now that all contestants are prepping their systems, let me explain the rules. There are three events, and the overall ranking is based on the average score. If you fail any event with less than sixty points, you’re eliminated. But I believe everyone here is a computer ace, so do your best! The first event is a typing speed contest—the score will be based on the computer’s typing software…”

Hearing that the first event was just a typing test, I nearly fainted. A typing contest? That was like asking a college student to solve one plus one. It was almost laughable, but what could I do? After all, this was high school, and it was 1997…

The competition began swiftly. Fifteen of the top computer students from across C City’s high schools started hammering away at their keyboards at the referee’s signal. The audience held its breath, waiting for the three-minute typing round to end. Yet, after barely a minute, I casually raised my right hand.

A wave of astonishment swept the hall. In half the allotted time, I’d completed all the English text—such speed would be impressive even among real computer experts, let alone high schoolers. Amid the host’s surprised remarks, the screen flashed a perfect score, easily securing me first place in the opening round.

“Look, that’s Xiao Qiang from our class—he’s amazing!” One student, eyes full of admiration, introduced me to a classmate. “His name is Xiao Qiang, Xiao Qiang.”

“Oh? Your class has someone that impressive? I hadn’t noticed,” a student from another school grumbled. “But it’s just typing fast; the real contest isn’t over yet. Being good with computers isn’t only about typing speed.”

True, expertise in computers isn’t just about typing, but among computer experts, contests often come down to speed and time. The faster you type, the sooner you finish coding, which can give you the edge. Of course, people ignorant of computers would never understand this.

The second round began soon after: each contestant had to use any software on the computer to draw a picture, and the most technically impressive would win.

Chu Qitong had been thoroughly outclassed in the first event; she shot me a resentful glare before bending over her computer to focus on her artwork. I pretended not to notice—if I didn’t outdo her, I wouldn’t be Xiao!

During the half-hour drawing session, the cheer squads from each school sprang into action, shouting themselves hoarse: “Victory for so-and-so school!” “Go, so-and-so high!” It was so noisy I nearly wanted to yell back, “This is a computer competition, not a basketball game!”

At least, when the round ended, the racket ceased, and the whole gym waited for the judges’ comments. In the center, the staff had set up a projector from the school’s multimedia classroom, where each contestant’s artwork was displayed in order for the judges to score.

The first drawing, by contestant number one, was a simple geometric composition of triangles. I shook my head after a glance. Hand-drawing it would be hard, but with a computer? Circles and triangles like these were trivial—no technical skill at all. The judges promptly dismissed it.

The next few entries had varied themes—some landscapes that turned out more like oil paintings, some animals that looked lifeless. After all that, the highest score among the remaining contestants before me was only sixty-five, just passing.

Then Chu Qitong’s drawing appeared on the screen: a depiction of the Earth. She had skillfully used various software tools to render the atmosphere and surface in impressive detail. The only flaw was the black background—she hadn’t had time to add a cosmic backdrop. After deliberation, the judges awarded her an impressive eighty-five points.

She was visibly pleased, shaking her little fist at me in triumph. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had a violent streak—why was she always threatening with those fists?