My name is Bu Yao. I'm a junior in college, and I died.
Given a new life, I thought I could go back to college and make up for everything I missed: the people I never asked out, the certifications I never earned, the money I never made. One thing at a time.
But when I opened my eyes, I was in fifth grade, eleven years old.
Fine, I'll keep a low profile. Keep my head down and make money quietly. First, I need to protect my mom's pair of gold bracelets.
But the System in my head won't let me.
"A chickens-and-rabbits puzzle? That's it?"
"Have you got the guts to solve one in front of the whole grade?"
"You were reborn, and that's all you've got to show for it?"
I didn't want to show off.
But it kept egging me on every day, insisting I make a grand spectacle of it.
From then on, I was on a path of no return.
I solved the chickens-and-rabbits puzzle in two lines, got full marks on exams half an hour early, and corrected the teacher's mistakes in front of everyone.
That's how the king of the elementary schoolers was made.
