At the same time, he also said to Ethan Carter, “Later, let’s carefully look through our class and pick out the Four Great Beauties.”

We can’t let Class 2 of Grade 1 steal the spotlight.

“I’ve seen all the girls in our class, none of them are that pretty.”

“Impressive, you managed to look over all the girls in our class in such a short time.”

Ethan Carter said a bit shyly, “There are only a bit more than twenty girls in total.”

“Yeah, thirty boys, twenty-four girls, fifty-four people in total.” Brian Bolton accurately reported the class size. As for why he remembered so clearly, it was because, back in Grade 1, he was addicted to “Legend of Mir,” and his grades plummeted. In a mock test, he ranked fifty-fourth in the class.

“You’re calling me out, but you’re just as observant.”

“I’m not like you. You look at the girls; I observe everyone, trying to deduce their backgrounds. Have you read ‘The Complete Sherlock Holmes’?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Holmes could deduce a person’s general situation from their details. I’m learning from that.”

“Really? Then can you deduce something about me?” Ethan Carter became interested.

Brian Bolton glanced at him sideways, searching his memory, but said calmly, “Based on my deduction, you… are from Luoji Township, you have a younger brother and a younger sister at home… uh, and you like playing billiards.”

“Wow, you really guessed it! I’ve never told anyone I have a younger brother and a younger sister.”

“That’s not guessing, that’s deduction.”

After relieving himself in the restroom, Ethan Carter was still puzzling over what gave away that he had a younger brother and a younger sister. Meanwhile, Brian Bolton’s image in his eyes gradually became taller and more mysterious.

“How did you learn this? Just by reading books?”

“Learn more, observe more, listen more, think more.”

Having been completely convinced by Brian Bolton, Ethan Carter was still muttering about it after returning to the classroom.

Then, for some reason, he started chanting Brian Bolton’s name, and as he repeated it, he made a new discovery: “Hey, Brian Bolton, if you say your name backwards, it’s 谭张, which sounds like ‘detective’!”

“You’ve got potential, kid. You even figured out my nickname. Yes, from now on, you can call me Detective Zhang.”

Detective was indeed Brian Bolton’s nickname. High school students loved giving each other nicknames, and not having one in high school was practically a sign of not fitting in.

It’s just that this time, the nickname came a few days early.

……

The class officer elections were pretty boring. No one really knew each other, so who got picked was all about first impressions.

In the end, Charles Dean, with his mature-looking face, successfully became the class monitor of Class 5, Grade 1. There would be a one-month probation period, and if he performed well, he’d be made official. The girl with exaggerated canine teeth, Hannah Todd, became the Youth League secretary; Ashley Reed, who had beautiful penmanship, became the sports committee member…

Whoever became a class officer had nothing to do with Brian Bolton.

After a noisy morning, all the trivial matters were finally over.

In the afternoon, formal classes began. The first period was math. The math textbook was the People’s Education Press edition, with a blue cover featuring a computer, and inside the computer, a function curve.

The math teacher, James Ross, was a tall, chubby man with an especially loud voice. Under his teaching, almost no one could fall asleep.

Brian Bolton couldn’t sleep either. He flipped through the math book—the lines of the function were elegant, but he had no idea what those twisted shapes meant.

“All the stuff I learned back then, I’ve already given back to the teacher,” Brian Bolton realized tragically. He even found it hard to follow the class, and thought idly, “If I’d known, I shouldn’t have paid the tuition. The goods are gone, and I didn’t get my money back.”

Looking at all the attentive faces around him, Brian Bolton felt more and more out of place in this era.

“Sigh, I’d better write my martial arts novel.”

He opened his notebook and buried himself in writing.

The story of “The Four Great Constables Shake the Northeast” was already short, and as Brian Bolton wrote, he got more and more into the flow. His writing was already good, and with memories from the future as a template, his writing speed soared. The movement of his wrist brought back the feeling of being a student.

That feeling of writing was already imprinted in his body.

When the class ended, Brian Bolton found he had written nearly 1,500 words: “Forty-five minutes in one class, 1,500 words, that’s a speed of 2,000 words per hour. Not bad, not bad.”

At this rate, he’d soon have 10,000 words and could submit it for publication.

Chapter 013: I’m Sick

Classes, making friends, eating, evening self-study.

Brian Bolton’s life these past two days was monotonous, but had a certain nostalgic flavor.

Taking advantage of class and evening study time, he finally finished two chapters of “The Four Great Constables Shake the Northeast.” Each chapter was 6,000 words, so together, they’d make a decent serial if submitted.

It took another day to proofread for typos. On Friday afternoon, September 7th, he finally finished copying the manuscript.

A full ten pages of letter paper, the penmanship strong and elegant, very beautiful.