Possessed by Destiny

eyes fixed peculiarly on Jack, making his heart race. The mystery soon unraveled as Jack, bewildered, took the exam marked "150" and returned to his seat. The previously silent classroom erupted into whispers. It was bizarre that the bottom-ranked student, who rarely passed English, scored perfectly on such a challenging test. Jack could feel everyone's eyes on him, including those of his crush, Rose, the class president and school beauty. His heart pounded even harder. For the first time, Rose, who usually showed little interest in others' affairs, was looking at him with curiosity. Despite the questions in her eyes, Jack's hands trembled as he held the paper. Being the center of attention felt strange but not entirely unpleasant to Jack. However, the feeling didn't last long. After sitting down, Mrs. Wang sternly addressed him, "Jack, what's going on?" Her severe tone made Jack's hand shake again. He looked down, the bold "150" glaring back at him. He realized he had scored perfectly on a test rumored to be as difficult as college-level exams. Even the top student, Rose, scored only 141. Jack was at a loss for words, unsure how to explain. He had completed the test in a daze, having worked a night shift before and barely resting. He answered the questions on autopilot. Could it be that his accumulated good karma had paid off during those two hours? Jack felt a smug satisfaction, believing that luck was a skill in itself, much like winning the lottery. Mrs. Wang, dissatisfied with Jack's silence, pressed further, "I asked you what's going on. Don't tell me it was luck." Jack swallowed the response that nearly slipped out. The claim of pure luck was bold but unrealistic. Accused of cheating, Jack was promptly sent out of the classroom to write an explanation for the following day. He felt wronged, having no time or intention to cheat. The bell finally rang, and Mrs. Wang left the classroom, casting a disappointed glance at Jack, who was still standing outside, lost in thought. She sighed deeply, “Only a month until the college entrance exams, and he resorts to cheating.” Jack remained bewildered, more eager than anyone else to understand how he achieved a perfect score. Dragging his weary steps back to the classroom, he felt exhausted from the heavy workload of the past few days, which had pushed him to his limits. He often felt drained and listless. The life of a high school senior rarely provided topics of conversation, but today, Jack was undoubtedly the main subject. As the class’s lowest-ranking student, he was usually too ordinary to attract attention. His poor grades meant college was a distant dream, and even obtaining a high school diploma seemed sufficient. Therefore, no one had any expectations for him. Today, however, this nearly forgotten figure was suddenly thrust into the spotlight, with dozens of eyes glaring at him with contempt, pity, and confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound emerged. In class, he was accustomed to being invisible, and now he couldn’t bring himself to speak in front of everyone. His gaze unintentionally fell on the girl seated in the middle of the third row, the only one not looking at him. Her long black hair was tied high, revealing a slender neck curved in a graceful arc. Her focus was no longer on him; her fair hand moved a pen across her notebook, indifferent to the heated discussion around her. Jack felt wronged—he truly hadn’t cheated. The various looks from his classmates agitated him, and the cold indifference from his crush, Rose, unsettled him even more. An unfamiliar surge of emotion welled up inside him, driven by all his negative feelings, overwhelming his rationality and consciousness. His steps halted abruptly, and he heard his slightly trembling yet sufficiently loud voice cut through the noisy classroom, "I did not cheat." Silence enveloped the room as everyone's attention, including Rose's, turned back to Jack. Surprise filled their eyes. Jack's first instinct was to look at Rose, searching her face for any clue. Her eyes showed only astonishment, not disdain. He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was quickly replaced by panic. Like his classmates, he was bewildered by his own outburst—was it a moment of madness or a surge of adrenaline? This was not something the usually composed Jack would do. Seconds later, the classroom buzzed with even more chatter. Jack's keen ears picked up a few mocking and sarcastic remarks, with one particularly piercing voice loudly exclaiming, "Ha, Jack, are you joking? If you didn't cheat, how did you get that perfect score? Don't tell us it was pure luck." The speaker’s tone was mocking, and a group of sycophants burst into laughter. The speaker was a boy named Bill, standing not far from Jack. He was a classmate with a refined appearance and decent grades, adept at currying favor with teachers. To teachers, he was the model student; to classmates, he was despised. His character and popularity were notably poor. Under normal circumstances, Jack wouldn't have engaged with Bill. Jack wasn’t exactly timid or cowardly; rather, life’s hardships had gradually smoothed his sharp edges. At eight, Jack lost his parents, and a child without parental love often became a target for bullies. Initially, Jack fought back, but the more he resisted, the worse he was hurt. His grandfather had advised him to endure until he had the strength to fight back, believing that submitting could minimize harm. This philosophy became clearer once Jack entered society and began working part-time jobs—some losses were necessary to avoid greater misfortunes. Bill came from a seemingly wealthy family and was quite domineering, excelling academically but frequently bullying classmates. Jack, knowing he was no match for Bill and aware that a single phone call could summon a group of Bill’s friends, chose to avoid confrontation. But Jack wasn’t himself at that moment, a fact he recognized. Clenching his fists to suppress the surging emotions within him proved futile. He raised his head and, looking straight at Bill, enunciated, "I did not cheat." The usually silent and somber Jack talking back was unexpected. Although his words were not aggressive, Bill was displeased by the retort, snorting, "Ha, what a joke. Our top student, Rose, scored 141. How could you get a perfect score?" Bill then intentionally glanced at Rose, hoping to catch her attention. The end of senior year was monotonous, and Bill, who loved the limelight, couldn't stand not showing off. He felt his heroic image should be displayed before Rose to leave a lasting impression. Confronting Jack was just a pretext; his true motive was to get closer to Rose before graduation. Before Jack could react further, another voice responded to Bill’s remark, "Oh, Bill, you sure have a lot of free time. With the exams approaching, everyone’s busy studying. Please don’t disrupt others' preparations!" The tone was casual, and looking towards the voice, it was Zane, a chubby boy who was somewhat friendly with Jack. However, their relationship wasn’t close enough for Zane to usually stand up for Jack, making Jack somewhat puzzled. Bill's authority had been repeatedly challenged, which he found intolerable. He began to wonder if his low profile lately had made people forget who he was. Casting a cold glance at Zane, he sneered, "Fatty, are you bored and looking for trouble?" Mimicking Bill’s sarcastic tone, Zane replied, "Looking for trouble, just like you, Bill. I mean, how Jack got a perfect score is none of your business. Even if he cheated, doing so undetected is a skill." Zane’s easygoing nature and popularity in class made his remark amusing to many, especially those who disliked Bill. The challenge to Bill was a spectacle for them. Bill felt his authority had been severely undermined. His pale face turned red with anger, and his glasses slipped down his nose with his heavy breaths. He had forgotten his intention to impress Rose and now could only sputter in fury. At this moment, one of Bill’s lackeys stepped forward, saying, "Cheating is disgraceful. Only those with poor grades would stoop to such shameful acts. It's no wonder you two are like this—no dad or no mom, so no upbringing." The lackey, Danny, was Bill's crony, often seen collaborating with him. Zane's background was similar to Jack’s, having lost his mother at a young age, though Jack's situation was even more tragic. Jack had no one but his doting father, and Bill's comment struck a nerve. Normally gentle, Zane was enraged. He might have feared Bill but not Danny. He rolled up his sleeves, ready for a fight. However, someone else was quicker. Jack, who had been silently observing, took a few steps toward Danny. Under the astonished gazes of his classmates, he raised his tightly clenched fist and struck Danny’s nose. Blood spurted, and glasses flew. The scene was so sudden and intense that before anyone could react, Jack’s second punch landed, giving Danny a black eye. After the second punch, Danny slumped over a desk. Only then did the class react, with boys cheering and girls screaming. Jack didn’t stop. Taking a few steps to Danny, he grabbed Danny’s shirt collar with his right hand and lifted him off the desk. His left hand delivered several slaps, each powerful enough to swell Danny’s face. After letting go, Danny slid to the ground, dazed, catching a glimpse of Jack’s cold and angry eyes, a stark contrast to the usual silent boy in class. Jack stood still, staring at his classmate Danny, who lay battered and unconscious before him. He was utterly bewildered, his classmates' horrified expressions and gaping mouths filling him with a wave of panic. He wanted to deny his involvement, but the blood on his right hand and the sharp pain in his left arm betrayed him. Jack was truly confused. He vaguely remembered hitting Danny, but the entire incident felt like he was a hazy spectator watching someone else beat Danny while he enjoyed the scene. Now that he had snapped back to reality, how had he become the assailant? Everything that had happened today seemed like a dream—was he really just exhausted from overwork? Just then, a lazy voice suddenly echoed in Jack's ears, "Kid, why are you standing there stunned? Hurry up and take him to the hospital. I held back my strength earlier, but this kid is really too weak." Startled, Jack instinctively looked around but heard the voice again, "Don't look around stupidly, kid. You can't see me. First, get him to the hospital; he's badly hurt. If you delay and he ends up with some lasting injury, you’ll be blamed for it."