The morning sun hadn't even fully risen when Feng found himself being dragged out of bed by his ever-so-reliable alarm clock—aka his mom's thunderous voice echoing through the hallway.
"Feng! Get up! You've got that parent-teacher meeting today! If you make your dad late, I swear—"
Before she could finish the threat, Feng had already bolted upright in bed, hair a mess, face full of regret.
Right. The dreaded day had come.
A parent-teacher conference, and not just any conference—the big one. The one that covered grades, behavior, class rankings, and possibly, minor war crimes. The one where parents got to sit in a room and collectively sigh at their children's mediocrity—or worse, get told about the time their kid tried to microwave instant noodles in a metal bowl.
In a very uncharacteristic move, Feng had volunteered to go along with his dad, claiming it would be a "great bonding experience."
Translation: He needed to be there to intercept any teacher complaints before they reached his father's ears.
Unfortunately, his dad—Mr. Doug, the proud, no-nonsense factory supervisor—was thrilled at the prospect.
"A real man doesn't fear criticism," he declared. "We'll go together, and if your teacher's got something to say, we'll take it like warriors!"
Feng smiled weakly and nodded, all while mentally preparing escape routes.
By 8:30 AM, the two were seated inside Class 2's spacious yet intimidating homeroom. The room was packed with parents of all shapes and sizes—stern-faced mothers clutching grade printouts, fathers scrolling through work emails while waiting, and a few lost-looking guardians who had clearly been roped into this against their will.
Ms. Fang, their homeroom teacher, stood at the front in her usual white blouse and navy skirt, holding a clipboard like it was a holy relic. Calm, composed, and perpetually disappointed, she began addressing the parents with her signature cool tone.
"We'll begin with academic rankings and behavioral feedback."
Feng leaned over and whispered, "Dad, maybe we could sneak out after the first ten minutes?"
Mr. Doug gave him a sharp look. "You sit right there. This is your eDougcation we're talking about."
As Ms. Fang started reading off names, Feng felt like a convict awaiting his sentence.
"Xu Zhiwei: Improved significantly in mathematics. Ranked 12th in class."
Applause.
"Lu Miaomiao: Still talks too much in class but essays are impressive. Ranked 9th."
Nods of approval.
"Doug Feng."
Feng flinched. A silence fell across the room like someone had pressed pause on life itself.
"Doug Feng," Ms. Fang repeated, eyeing him over the rim of her glasses. "Ranked… 36th."
In a class of 40.
"Behavioral summary: Talks frequently, especially when it is inappropriate. Distracts others. Once brought a bag of sunflower seeds to class and attempted to trade them like currency."
The room snorted with laughter. Feng shrank two inches in his seat.
Mr. Doug looked like someone had just told him his son had robbed a bank.
"Is this true?" he hissed under his breath.
"Technically, it was an economy experiment…" Feng whispered back.
Then came the nail in the coffin.
"Also, he skipped three classes last month without proper permission—"
Feng didn't even hear the rest. His soul had already left his body.
After an eternity, Ms. Fang moved on to other students, giving Feng a moment to breathe.
Once the formal meeting was over, parents were allowed to approach teachers for one-on-one conversations. Mr. Doug marched right up to Ms. Fang before Feng could stop him.
"Ms. Fang," he said with a respectful nod. "Thank you for guiding my son. I assure you, I will speak with him. Discipline starts at home."
Feng hovered nearby, ready to jump in. But surprisingly, Ms. Fang's expression softened.
"Mr. Doug, your son may not be the best-behaved student, but he's intelligent. He asks interesting questions—even if they're in the wrong context. And… believe it or not, he has potential."
Feng blinked. Was this—was this praise?
"Doug Feng has a certain spark. With the right motivation, he could rise significantly in his performance."
Mr. Doug raised an eyebrow. "And what kind of motivation are we talking about?"
Feng's eyes lit up. "Maybe… more computer time? Fewer chores?"
Ms. Fang smiled ever so slightly. "Less sunflower seed trading, for starters."
Feng groaned.
They left the school together shortly after. Feng fully expected a lecture once they got into the car, but to his surprise, Mr. Doug simply drove in silence. At a red light, he finally spoke.
"You're lucky your teacher sees something in you. If you waste this opportunity, you're just playing yourself, not me."
Feng looked out the window and nodded. Deep down, he knew his dad was right.
Still, as soon as they got home, he retreated into his room, pulled out his secret notebook full of system missions and future investments, and sighed.
"Sunflower seeds were a good idea in theory…"
Just then, his system's notification popped up:
[Ding! Side Quest Activated: Climb into Top 20 of the Class. Reward: One Random Epic-Grade Item.]
Feng's eyes lit up.
Well well, maybe Ms. Fang wasn't the only one who believed in his "potential."
"Top 20, huh? Let's make it Top 10 and really mess with everyone's heads."
With that, he cracked open his textbook—and after five seconds, closed it again.
"Okay, maybe just a nap first."