Chapter 50: Turmoil at the Equestrian Field

Words : 1310 Updated : Sep 24th, 2025

Chapter 50 of "Rebirth: The Ascent of a Socialite" begins with suspense: "How did the exam go?" This time, Qiu Zhi didn’t dare miss Su Ziceng’s call... Don’t stop reading!

"How did the exam go?" This time, Qiu Zhi didn’t dare miss Su Ziceng’s call again. He knew today was a matter of life and death for Su Ziceng, so he spent the whole day anxiously watching his pager. "I just wrote an essay; for multiple choice and true/false questions, I chose 'B' for all and ticked all the boxes." Su Ziceng, gnawing on a chopstick, looked at the fiery hot fish slices and was satisfied to find Hang Yishao wasn’t in the cafeteria’s D section today. "Isn’t that it then?" Qiu Zhi tried to put on a look of heartfelt distress, but unfortunately, his face looked too cheerful; even his attempt at a sad expression ended up looking like birthday buns used for celebrations. "Don’t curse me; that essay itself is worth sixty points. Tsk tsk, I wonder if Mr. Green suddenly had a moment of clarity, actually letting us write about ‘The Life of Coco Chanel.’ God knows, I’m her most loyal fan. Whenever Chanel’s classic and latest styles come out, I buy two sets—one to collect and one to wear." Su Ziceng picked a piece of smooth fish belly and swallowed it whole without frowning a bit. On one side, Su Ziceng was enjoying delicious and spicy food. On the other side, the lately unlucky Mr. Green, under Wen Maixue’s supervision, dragged his ailing body to mark the exams of Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu early. "Yan Wuxu got eighty-five points, and Su Ziceng got sixty-one points." Mr. Green saw for the first time a student filling in a neat row of ’B's and a full column of ticks—it was miraculous that Su Ziceng actually passed. "What?" When Maixue’s voice was full of disbelief, she disregarded Mr. Green’s astonished look and pulled out Su Ziceng’s paper. Both the multiple-choice and true/false questions scored five points each, while the essay scored fifty-one points. "Actually, her essay on Madam Chanel was very well written; her sincere feelings shone through. Even I, who never cares about fashion, felt it." Mr. Green didn’t usually follow fashion trends, but as a true Frenchman, he still showed high respect for that national treasure of a fashion designer. "If only she hadn’t consistently written CHANEL as CHANNL, I would have considered giving her a higher score." The hand Wen Maixue used to hold the exam paper showed her anger at that moment at the French on Su Ziceng’s paper, with its haphazard and inelegant scrawls, and she even drew the Chanel logo at the end of the paper, turning a serious exam into a jest. "Why did you suddenly decide to raise the essay score to sixty points? Traditionally, the essay in French exams always accounted for fifty percent of the total score," Wen Maixue tossed Su Ziceng’s paper to the side. "This time the topic of the essay and the setting of scores were suggested by Pello," Mr. Green gathered the paper back. He was a lover of freedom and romance, a typical laid-back Frenchman. Not much importance was given to this French exam attended only by two persons, but when Pello, also a native French speaker, volunteered to alleviate the burden by setting the questions, Mr. Green gladly accepted. "It had to be Pello." Wen Maixue muttered under her breath. Looking again at Su Ziceng’s ironic sixty-one points, Pello was always careful in his dealings; he could even gauge a test paper to such a precise extent. The next day, the results were announced, and Su Ziceng, seeing that miraculous sixty-one points, laughed all day long. This was the first time she had passed an exam relying on "her own ability"—if she could pass French, how hard could other subjects be? She flipped through the academic courses for the year: classical literature, horse classics, and equestrian arts, wondering why an equestrian course was divided into theoretical and practical sessions, probably because Kelly Women’s College had an abundance of teachers, allowing for such detailed delineation. The official courses begin next week, and Su Ziceng, no longer needing to attend French lessons, decided to have a joyful weekend to celebrate. Descending from the dormitory building at noon, the sunshine was exceptionally brilliant. After entering October, the geraniums in deep autumn were blooming everywhere. Many students had classes in the afternoon, and taking advantage of the lunch break, lots of them strolled around the campus. After stepping out of the dormitory building, Su Ziceng saw someone approaching from ahead. The sunlight was somewhat dazzling, and it was not until the person came closer that Su Ziceng could make out his features. Dressed in a beige jockey suit instead of his teacher’s uniform, Pello’s muscular vest highlighted his inverted-triangle physique hidden beneath his everyday clothes, with broad and muscular shoulders, solid abdominal lines, and long legs tucked into black knee-high boots, completely dispossessing his usual scholarly demeanor. Caught off guard, Su Ziceng stared and forgot to greet him, blurting out, "Why are you dressed like this?" Pello’s jockey suit was striking, and being a teacher at Kelly Women’s College, it goes without saying that he was heading to teach an equestrian class. The only thing on Pello that stayed the same was his gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose bridge. Hearing Su Ziceng’s unwitting remark, he laughed and said, "I teach horsemanship as well. Being a teacher at Kelly Women’s College is no easy feat." Su Ziceng, seeing him pruning in the flower shed every evening, had really taken him for a floristry master. "Also, congratulations on passing your exam." Pello winked and added, not without regret, "I thought you could score at least sixty-five." Pello’s estimates were usually accurate, yet Su Ziceng’s score still managed to surprise him a bit. Anyone who read Su Ziceng’s eloquent thousand-word essay would praise it, but her monumental feat of misspelling Chanel’s name was indeed both laughable and lamentable. "Amitabha, I wouldn’t dare to think that way; just flying low with sixty points is enough. Any more and I’d feel extravagant." This young lady, who managed to scatter ’Chanel’ all over the fitting room, still had the audacity to talk about extravagance. "Then I won’t keep you from your class." Su Ziceng stepped aside, and seeing that Pello did not seem ready to leave, she remembered that she probably owed him a big favor. "Look at me, completely forgot—drinks are on me this weekend! I haven’t been to ‘Admiration’ in a long time, either; it would be a good time to see Sister Mu and Brother Han and the others." Thinking of her weekend plans, Su Ziceng decided to delay her plan of tailing Hang Yishao for the time being. On the equestrian field of Kelly Women’s College, the stable hands led dozens of horses and handed them over to the students of Kelly Women’s College and Daoquan University, respectively. Seeing the horses for the first time, Deng Jiani couldn’t hide her joy, while Hang Yishao and Fei Qing picked a corner, looking helplessly at the overly excited girls nearby. "Why is it just a few of us guys?" Although Hang Yishao liked women, he didn’t enjoy being amidst a crowd of perfumed females. "We few are all connected, folks, picked out of the crowd," Fei Qing said, while smoking a cigarette, squatting on the ground watching those girls dressed in jockey suits, who looked particularly appealing. "What do you mean? Your tricks again?" Hang Yishao knew Fei Qing often had tricks up his sleeves. "This time it wasn’t me; the girls pulled a fast one. To find the truth, look in the six o’clock direction; the answer is walking our way. So-called Kelly’s production must be fine goods." Fei Qing watched as the girls’ voices, seeing Pello, surged by several decibels, and he fiercely crushed his cigarette butt into the soil.

Chapter 50: Turmoil at the Equestrian Field

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