WTNL Chapter 4.1

Decai Middle School
Chapter 4.1: F*ck, a fox exploiting a tiger’s might

In the live broadcast plaza, the quick access portals to the various live broadcast halls were arranged from top to bottom according to their viewing value.

Perhaps because there were too many newcomers, the live broadcast halls opened this time were basically all below C-rank. B-rank and A-rank halls were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, which also caused the vast majority of viewers to concentrate in those few high-rank halls.

After all, the higher the difficulty, the stronger the entertainment value.

Suddenly, someone saw a familiar newbie-level instance somewhere near the middle section.

[Decai Middle School]…?

Isn’t it a D-rank instance? Why would it be ranked here?

—Could it be that the system’s ranking made a mistake?

The viewers felt doubtful.

Seeing this, some highly curious viewers couldn’t wait to click in, preparing to see exactly what happened with their own eyes.

After all, if it wasn’t a mistake in the system’s ranking…

Then it must be that some variable had appeared in this D-rank instance, causing the system’s judgment of the entire instance’s viewing value to suddenly increase.

This kind of thing wasn’t something you could encounter every day!

The terrified streamers squeezed into the narrow corridor like sardines packed in a can. After the old witch’s voice fell, all gazes instantly landed on the young man at the end of the corridor.

Their expressions were bewildered, holding their breath and waiting with their hearts in their throats.

Under the dim lighting, the corridor was narrow. The green wall paint was peeling off mottledly, revealing dark gray stains.

The air was dead silent.

Inside live broadcast room 789326qwk, it was the exact opposite of the outside—blazing hot.

With the influx of viewers from other live broadcast rooms, the number of online viewers displayed in the room was rapidly increasing.

[Ding! The number of online viewers in the live broadcast room has exceeded 1000.]

[Ding! The number of online viewers in the live broadcast room has exceeded 2000.]

[Congratulations to the streamer for achieving the achievement: New Arrival!

Wow, the popularity in your live broadcast room is climbing steadily! Your high-quality live broadcast content has attracted more viewers to flock to your room!]

[Ding! The number of tippers in the live broadcast room has exceeded 50!]

[Congratulations to the streamer for achieving the achievement: Small Gains!

Wow, more and more loyal fans have surrendered to your charm! Please continue to work hard at courting death and keep it up, so that more people will willingly open their wallets for you!]

[Came admiring the fame from next door, I really didn’t expect this intern teacher to actually be a streamer too. I’m shocked.]

[From next door +1]

[Aaaaaah, how did the streamer mix into the NPC team? I’m dying ofcuriosity;, please catch me up!]

[Where is the newcomer’s history playback? I couldn’t find it on the homepage; are there any kind souls to point the way?]

[The person above, no need to bother; don’t waste your time. Anyway, this streamer is probably going to overturn his car right away hahahahahaha!]

[?]

[??? Why? What happened?]

Immediately after, more gloating “hahaha”s swept across the barrage.

Although the viewers who had just come in weren’t clear, most of the other viewers had been watching from the very beginning until now.

That Dean didn’t send anyone to get the roster at all; it was all made up by Wen Jianyan. That crumpled little booklet was currently sitting in Wen Jianyan’s pocket.

As for some “re-copied backup roster,” that was even more non-existent.

However, now the heavy responsibility of roll call had fallen on Wen Jianyan’s shoulders—he either had to honestly say he didn’t copy it at all, or he had to take the booklet out of his pocket and read it.

But no matter how he chose, it would contradict his initial lie, and it would definitely arouse suspicion.

And “suspicion” was like water poured onto a sandcastle; it could cause a lie that couldn’t withstand scrutiny to crumble apart.

That was the case in reality, let alone now that they were in an instance.

With the old witch’s temperament, it was absolutely impossible for her to let go of such an opportunity.

Once caught red-handed, this streamer full of lies would undoubtedly die.

It seemed that this streamer’s short and glorious career was probably going to end here. Although they said it was a pity, most of the viewers became even more excited.

After all, when a car overturns, the harder the crash, the better it is to watch.

The entire corridor was enveloped in a suffocating silence.

Everyone’s gaze fell upon Wen Jianyan.

The tall woman with a face full of flab turned slightly sideways. A pair of jackal-like, vicious and gloomy small eyes looked over from the gap at the side of her glasses. A faint light flickered in the depths of her eyes, like the sharp flash a second before the blade falls on a guillotine.

Dim lights flickered above, and the light refracted off the edges of the slightly askew lenses, blocking the expression in the young man’s eyes.

His face appeared pale and frail under the light. His lips pursed, and then calmly and slowly, bit by bit, he reached his hand into his pocket.

The viewers in front of the screen subconsciously held their breath, greedily watching the streamer’s every move.

Soon, Wen Jianyan’s fingers were drawn out of his pocket.

They saw a piece of white paper folded into four pinched in his hand. It looked like it was torn from a notebook, wrinkled, with irregular marks on the edges, and messy handwriting could be vaguely seen on the side.

Wen Jianyan unfolded the paper.

The rustling sound of paper rubbing rang out in the dead silent corridor, making one unable to resist an accelerated heartbeat.

“Jiang Ze.”

The young man’s voice rang out in the corridor, gentle and clear.

The viewers keeping watch in the live broadcast room were dumbfounded.

[?? How is he reading from it?]

[What’s going on? Could it be the streamer wants to muddle through by making things up?]

After a brief few seconds of silence, a weak voice sounded at the end of the corridor, responding in a low voice:

“…Here.”

“Zhou Fangyuan.”

“Here.”

Wen Jianyan read down one name after another, and with every one he read, a high or low response would come from the crowd.

This absolutely couldn’t be made up.

Then what was going on? Did he actually copy a list when the viewers weren’t paying attention?

When did that happen? No impression at all!

As if to answer the doubts in the viewers’ hearts, the live broadcast room’s camera moved, zoomed in, and zoomed in again.

Ultimately landing on the piece of paper in Wen Jianyan’s hand.

The creases on the white paper hadn’t faded, crumpled up, with a few lines written on it in extremely messy handwriting:

Green onions, cabbage, garlic, pork, chili peppers. Remember to buy toothpaste and laundry detergent.

[…]

[…]

A dense cluster of [???] drifted across the live broadcast room.

This, this is…

A shopping list???

Wen Jianyan lowered his head, staring at the short few lines on the shopping list without changing his expression, continuing to read down extremely confidently.

“Zhao Runcheng.”

“Here.”

“Fang Ke.”

“Here.”

After realizing what had happened, the barrage exploded.

[??? The streamer has memorized the roster!!]

[Fuck fuck fuck, what kind of memory is this! Photographic memory?!]

[Not necessarily, right? Maybe he had already anticipated this scenario, so he secretly memorized it or something; after all, it’s only a dozen or so names.]

[Does the person above speak without thinking? Then isn’t this even more difficult? What level of anticipation must that be!]

Soon, except for Cheng Wei, who “did not enroll,” everyone else’s roll call was completed.

The old witch stood in place, narrowed her eyes and slowly swept her gaze around, squeezing a cold snort from her nasal cavity. It was impossible to tell whether she was satisfied or disappointed.

She turned around: “Let’s go.”

Wen Jianyan slowly let out a long breath, refolded the piece of paper, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Taking the opportunity to secretly rub his sweaty palms on his pants.

That was close.

Fortunately, the profession he engaged in was too high-risk, so he had developed a habit of subconsciously memorizing all important information before his eyes. Firstly, it was to prevent his lies from being exposed, and secondly, it was to improvise on the spot in critical moments.

After all, the key to a lie lay in the details.

Even if it were inconsequential minor details, once neglected, it could cost one’s life.

He took a deep breath, turned his head to look at the streamers behind him, and lifted his chin:

“Didn’t you hear Teacher Yang? Follow her.”

The barrage, which was just sighing with emotion at the streamer’s extraordinary memory and anticipation abilities, all simultaneously fell silent. The wind direction instantly changed:

[Fuck, a fox exploiting a tiger’s might.]

[Fuck, a villain feeling smug.]

[Shameless!]

[Shameless!!!]

The remaining streamers looked at each other, fearfully stepping forward, and followed behind Wen Jianyan.

The old witch went straight downstairs, heading outside the dormitory building.

The sky was dusky.

The small campus was submerged in a fiery dusk, like a tiny cardboard box about to be squashed.

A few dozen meters next to the dormitory building was a low, single-story building. Its doors were wide open, revealing a wet, dark gray concrete floor.

It looked like a cafeteria.

Inside, several rows of grayish-yellow long tables were arranged side by side. The paint on the tabletops was peeling off, appearing greasy in the dim light, as if they hadn’t been carefully cleaned for years.

At the end of the cafeteria were two desks pushed together.

Huge galvanized iron food basins were placed side by side on top of them, steaming outward.

The old witch stopped at the cafeteria entrance, turned her head to look at the boarding students behind her, and said coldly:

“We’re here.”

The woman swept her gaze around, her tall figure bringing a terrifying sense of oppression.

The streamers huddled together, quiet out of fear, waiting for her to speak.

They saw the old witch raise her stubby fingers, pointing to a nearby cabinet: “Your lunchboxes are all over there. After getting your food and eating, remember to wash them and put them back. If you lose them, you’ll have to pay for them.”

The old witch then pointed to the clock hanging on the cafeteria wall:

“After finishing your meal and washing your bowls, head back to the dorms on your own. The curfew for the dormitory building at night is 9:30.”

She grinned, the malice in her expression almost impossible to hide: “If you don’t come back on time, I won’t leave the door unlocked for you.”

“Alright, free time.”

After speaking, the old witch turned around and hummed a song while walking in the direction of the dormitory building.

Because he was very close, Wen Jianyan heard the last few words she sang this time:

“…harmonious and satisfied…”

Humming that fragmented little tune, her tall and obese body quickly disappeared into the deepening night.

Wen Jianyan was stunned for a moment, then quickly recovered his wits.

He took a step forward, clapped his hands, and raised his voice:

“Did everyone hear what Teacher Yang said? New students who have gotten their lunchboxes gather here and line up in two columns to go in and get food.”

As a scammer with highly skilled professional techniques, he had blended into this role of an “intern teacher” without any psychological barriers.

In just a few short words, Wen Jianyan not only transferred the residual prestige of the old witch herself onto his own body, but also extremely naturally became the person controlling the overall situation.

The streamers instinctively obeyed the commands of authority.

After a brief moment of chaos, everyone was holding their lunchboxes, honestly lining up in two columns at the cafeteria entrance.

Wen Jianyan nodded without changing his expression, saying with satisfaction:

“Go in.”

Thus, the imposter comfortably led the two columns of boarding students into the cafeteria, exploiting his borrowed authority to direct them to line up for food.

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