The rain poured heavily outside, tapping on the window in an intermittent rhythm of light and heavy drops. Chen Luzhou woke up at four in the morning; the rain had stopped. Xu Zhi hadn’t woken him and had already left. The living room light was off, but she had left a floor lamp on for him, probably afraid he might trip if he came out. A small floor lamp illuminated the hallway, and she had even closed the windows tightly. A small note was left on the table.
“I made some porridge in the kitchen. Remember to drink some when you wake up. I added some white sugar. My mom used to make this for me when I had a cold.
P.S.: I left you some nail polish remover. Remember to take it off before you go home tomorrow.
P.P.S.: Here’s a quote for you: There is no true despair in this world, only prisoners trapped by their thoughts.
– Xu Zhi”
Chen Luzhou held the note, suddenly remembering the first night they met at the late-night food stall. He had been helping someone save a seat and teasing a child. Xu Zhi had taken out her phone, offering to record audio in case the child’s parents made unreasonable demands, so she could immediately hand it over to the police for him to appeal.
She hadn’t even asked why he was doing it; she just chose to trust him.
Zhu Yangqi had once asked him why he chose Xu Zhi. He had thought of countless heart-stirring nights since then, but none compared to the impact of that first night’s straightforwardness. The sentimental explanation was that after years of standing alone, Xu Zhi was the first person to choose to stand by his side without question.
And then there was tonight.
She seemed to understand nothing, yet everything at the same time.
Chen Luzhou picked up the bottle of nail polish remover and looked down at it. She was indeed reliable, more so than anyone else around him. Being friends with her was nice. He had a strange feeling that he too had a strong, unspoken support, rather than always being the one cleaning up after others.
“There is no true despair in this world, only prisoners trapped by their thoughts.”
This phrase seemed familiar. Chen Luzhou pondered for two seconds before concluding, “Damn, isn’t this what I wrote in my exam essay before?” Yi Zhong had a collection of perfect-score essays, binding together all the top-scoring essays from previous years. It was practically Chen Luzhou’s anthology. After all, he was the great poet Chen. This wasn’t unusual; people often unknowingly quoted his golden sentences to him directly.
He just hadn’t expected his essays to have such a far-reaching influence, even reaching Ruijun Middle School. He had thought only the Yi Zhong students would go crazy over them.
Tsk, tsk. It seemed the dream of being the great poet Chen couldn’t be abandoned.
Chen Luzhou thought this as he drank the sweet porridge Xu Zhi had made. His mood improved, so he took a photo in the middle of the night and posted it on his Moments.
Xu Zhi saw the Moments post the next afternoon. He had finished the entire pot of porridge by himself, even turning the pot upside down to show it was empty. The caption was simple, just two concise words.
Cr: “Thanks.”
Xu Zhi thought this post must have received quite a few likes, but because they had few mutual friends, she could only see a handful. Below was a long string of replies between him and Zhu Yangqi.
Zhu Yangqi: “Is this the disparity of life? Last night I was eating at Shang Fang Hotpot, where it costs a thousand per person and someone even stands guard when you go to the bathroom, while you, poor soul, could only drink porridge at home.”
Cr replied to Zhu Yangqi: “Only peasants eat at Shang Fang Hotpot.”
Zhu Yangqi replied to Cr: “Right, you’re the most romantic. You even need to swing on a swing while taking a dump.”
Cr replied to Zhu Yangqi: “…”
Cai Yingying also replied to Zhu Yangqi: “…”
So Xu Zhi followed suit with: “…”
About half an hour later, Chen Luzhou probably saw her reply and sent her a private message.
Cr: What are you doing?
Xu Zhi was leaning against the door, watching the repairman fix the electric meter. The hallway was dim, and she had a small flashlight in her mouth, providing light for the repairman while texting. She sent an exasperated expression pack, [I’m so speechless.jpg].
He immediately replied.
Cr: ??
Xu Zhi: Aren’t the scores coming out tonight? My dad’s worried that too many people will be refreshing and the network will be slow, so he bought a new router to fix the network. But now the entire fuse box has tripped, and we’re waiting for the repairman to fix the electricity first.
Cr: Will you make it in time?
Xu Zhi: It should be fine. What about you? What are you up to?
Cr: Just got back home. I’m about to go to the bookstore to find some books for Chen Xingqi. Later, some friends are coming over. We’ll either play basketball or games.
Xu Zhi: Your life is so routine.
Cr: Isn’t yours pretty good too?
Xu Zhi: Not that. You know my cousin, right?
Cr: Mm. Did you sort out the camera issue?
Xu Zhi: Your friend is amazing. As soon as he got it, he said the shutter was almost worn out from overuse. Then he dismantled it and found some barcodes inside. He took a picture and showed it to the seller, chatted with them on WeChat for a bit, and they agreed to a refund. But the seller said my cousin used a credit card, so there were some fees involved. It was quite complicated and took a while to get the money back.
Cr: His dad was one of the earliest camera dealers in Qingyi. Now they’re the biggest dealer nationwide with branches everywhere. If you hadn’t been so stubborn and had come to me directly, it wouldn’t have been so troublesome.
Xu Zhi: It wasn’t stubbornness. It was mainly my cousin’s issue, so I didn’t want to bother you. Who knew the person Cai Yingying’s cousin introduced would be unreliable too?
Cr: Nobody around you is reliable.
Cr: Except you.
Xu Zhi still had the flashlight in her mouth. She must have gotten more engrossed in the conversation because her head was bowing lower and lower. The repairman saw her using the flashlight to illuminate her phone and guessed she was chatting with her boyfriend. He teased, “What’s wrong, young lady? Is your phone not bright enough? Need a flashlight to play with it?”
Oh, Xu Zhi finally realized. She straightened up and aimed the flashlight at the repairman, her eyelids drooping as she desperately tried to see her phone screen through the slits. Her hands were small, and she was using the largest model of a popular brand with a 26-key layout. She couldn’t reply one-handed. She especially admired Chen Luzhou’s long fingers. She had seen him reply to messages one-handed several times, typing incredibly fast. He used a 26-key layout too.
Chen Luzhou didn’t know how awkward her situation was. Xu Zhi was practically stealing moments to chat with him, constantly on guard in case Old Xu came to check on her. When she didn’t reply for just a minute, another message came through.
Cr: Are you angry?
Xu Zhi hurriedly replied: No, I was just busy.
Cr: Oh, I thought you were upset about what I said about the people around you.
Xu Zhi: Not at all. Why would I be angry? Let me tell you about my cousin first. He’s a middle school student with a terrible schedule. He stays up all night playing games, his day and night are completely reversed. He even smokes in secret. During holidays, he doesn’t sleep at all. Yesterday he even went to a bar and got caught red-handed by my uncle.
Cr: Now I’m really curious. What would make you angry?
Completely ignoring the cousin topic, Xu Zhi could only reply: You can try to make me angry.
Cr: … You have too much free time.
Xu Zhi was still helping the repairman by stepping on the power strip, both hands and feet busy, and even her mouth occupied with the flashlight. She replied without thinking: If I wasn’t free, who would chat with you?
Chen Luzhou must have gotten busy too, as he didn’t reply for quite a while.
By the time he replied, the electricity at Xu Zhi’s home had been fixed, but the internet was still down. Xu Guang
Ji was anxiously calling the telecom company again, but probably due to the score release tonight, no one was available to come over at the moment. They had to wait. The wait was making Xu Guangji’s anxiety act up; he kept frantically polishing his glasses with a cleaning cloth, back and forth.
“Dad, the scores aren’t going anywhere. It’s the same whether we check early or late,” she comforted him.
Xu Guangji looked at the time; it was already past 7 PM. Scores will be available at 8 PM. It was still bright outside, but there was still no word from the telecom company. “Call them again and ask when they get off work,” he said.
“Dad, we can check using mobile data, or even by phone. I can call, or worst case, I can ask someone else to check for me. Dad, please stop pacing.”
Just as Xu Zhi finished speaking, Chen Luzhou’s WeChat message came through.
Cr: Mm, so I’m just your tool to pass the time.
Xu Zhi: I don’t make porridge for tools.
Cr: Is that so? Then what was last night about? Why don’t you write a 3000-word essay analyzing your inner thoughts in detail? I’m quite curious, really, Xu Zhi. What were you thinking, making porridge at a man’s house in the middle of the night?
Cr: Hm? Xu Tianluo?
He persisted.
Xu Zhi looked at the messages and sighed. Are all men this sensitive?
At that moment, Xu Guangji’s phone rang. It was the telecom company. He hurriedly answered, nodding and bowing as he spoke, “Yes, yes, please come quickly. My daughter needs to check her college entrance exam scores tonight. Yes, yes, 5th floor, we’re the only household. I applied for 100Mbps fiber, right? Okay, okay, thank you so much.”
Xu Zhi lowered her head and replied: “Do you know how much a 100Mbps fiber optic connection costs?”
Cr: “Around a thousand yuan a year, I’m not quite sure.”
Xu Zhi: “As expected, Old Xu loves me the most. He applied for a 100Mbps fiber optic connection just so I could check my scores. In the past, even when Grandma kept losing connection while playing Fight the Landlord, he wasn’t willing to upgrade from that 10Mbps connection. So, Chen Tool, I can’t write a 3000-word essay about cooking porridge, but if I ever spend money on you, I’ll write an 8000-word essay to condemn you. No need to rush.”
Cr: “I’d like to see that.”
The telecom technician had already arrived and was tinkering around. He asked Xu Guangji if he remembered the original broadband password. Xu Guangji couldn’t recall it, racking his brains but unable to remember any original password or administrator password. Seeing her father’s flustered state, Xu Zhi sent a quick message to Chen Luzhou before going over to help.
Xu Zhi: “Gotta go, need to help my dad set up the broadband.”
Cr: “Alright.”
Xu Zhi put down her phone. Perhaps because the most anticipated exam results of this summer were about to be revealed, darkness fell particularly late today. At 7:30 PM, it was still bright outside.
Everyone was waiting with bated breath. Emotions were piled up to the highest point, as if everyone was perched atop a tall pyramid, waiting for the official end of ten years of hard study, hoping for a satisfying conclusion.
**
Chen Luzhou sat in the book bar for a while, then used a courier service to send the books he bought back to Chen Xingqi. The book bar was quite quiet, with fewer people today. Apart from a few children, there were no adults in sight. Chen Luzhou was one of the few, with a notebook and several sheets of letter paper sprawled on the table, along with a half-drunk iced latte.
The book bar offered a letter storage service, allowing people to write down their thoughts on letter paper, like a temporary memo pad to record current emotions. It could be a long-hidden confession or a difficult apology. One could write it on the letter paper in advance and give the password to the recipient when ready to share. The envelopes would be kept in a time capsule password box, with the password changing each time, similar to temporary luggage storage.
People often let their minds wander when alone, their thoughts running wild, but when it comes to crucial moments, they struggle to express themselves. It’s like feeling you didn’t perform well after an argument. So the book bar’s time capsule encouraged young people to write more, to express their current emotions immediately, as they are the most profound and powerful. These could then be stored here.
Chen Luzhou was curious after hearing the staff’s introduction, so he rented one. It would be interesting to notify everyone to come and see on the day he left for abroad.
Chen Luzhou was dressed all in black, tall and handsome, with sharp features. He wore a black baseball cap that covered half his face, his entire figure clear-cut and sharp, looking very cold and stern. The staff, watching from afar, thought he looked like a cold-faced, handsome assassin from a movie, writing his last will before executing a mission.
Chen Luzhou sat there for a long time, not knowing what to write. Who would have thought that the great poet Chen would be at a loss for words? Finally, after sitting for half a day, he sighed and picked up his pen to write. His first letter was to Zhu Yangqi, who had grown up with him wearing the same pants, given their current relationship.
Zhu Yangqi:
Greetings upon opening this letter.
I’m writing this to tell you that life truly has its disparities. Look at us, both boys, yet you’re a mongrel while I’m a handsome guy.
But it’s okay, I immediately experienced life’s disparity too. You’re a mongrel, but you’ve had a girlfriend, while I’m handsome but haven’t dated yet.
We Chinese boys should all have a certain spirit, one that can’t be extinguished by wind or rain. Even when the oil runs out and the lamp dies, as long as there’s a spark of hope in our hearts, we can always rekindle our eternal hope. Take you, for example. As long as there’s a meal in this world, even if you were in a coma for three days in the ICU, you’d wake up at the mention of food, afraid of missing out on a hot meal.
Well, keep up that spirit.
—— clz
Just as Chen Luzhou sealed the envelope, his phone rang. It was Xu Zhi.
He stuffed the envelope into the time capsule box, pulled out a password slip, and answered the phone: “Are the results out?”
Xu Zhi sighed, “The internet isn’t fixed yet. My dad can’t even remember our broadband account. I guess he’s probably stressed out too, so I don’t dare to rush him. I can’t load the webpage on my phone, and I can’t get through on the phone either. Where are you now? Have you checked yours?”
Chen Luzhou happened to see an internet cafe across from the book bar. Without hesitation, he grabbed his coffee and headed out. His steps were quick, but his voice was low and unhurried, “No, give me your exam registration number, I’ll check for you. You don’t mind, right?”
“Of course not,” Xu Zhi swiftly played the sycophant, “I even feel guilty enough to come over and cook porridge for you tonight.”
Chen Luzhou accepted her flattery with great pleasure: “Alright, come over later. You’re a puppy if you don’t.”
The street was crowded, and some people seemed to have already checked their scores. As Chen Luzhou was talking to Xu Zhi on the phone while crossing the intersection, he heard two girls at the corner excitedly screaming, “So nervous, so nervous, so nervous, so nervous—”
“What are you nervous about? I’m the one getting my results.”
“I’m nervous for our school’s senior brothers! Our engineering school already has so few girls, and now another wave of handsome younger brothers is coming.”
“Get lost!”
Xu Zhi heard it too. Feeling a bit inferior while asking for a favor, she continued to flatter him: “Chen Luzhou, seriously, if you were to study in China, whichever school you go to, the girls there would probably go crazy for a while. It’s such a pity you’re going abroad. Foreign girls might not even appreciate your type.”
He walked quickly, having already used his ID to pay for a computer at the internet cafe. Leaning lazily in the chair, holding the phone, he laughed indifferently, “No need for you to worry about that.”
He’d be a killer anywhere.
Okay, that sounded too arrogant, so he kept some face for himself.
“Are you at the internet cafe?” Xu Zhi’s voice suddenly sounded a bit nervous.
“Mm,” he leaned back in the chair, holding the phone and entering the network card password with one hand. Detecting a hint of nervousness in her voice, he couldn’t help but tease her, “I didn’t expect you’d get nervous too?”
Xu Zhi had given up on making phone calls herself, her throat tightening: “To be honest, I was braver when I was younger. I remember when our school had some kind of arts performance, I was the one who went up to conduct the big choir. The teacher just taught me a couple of moves and sent me up there. I’m tone-deaf, but I wasn’t afraid of embarrassment. I went up and conducted wildly, and they all sang correctly. Later I found out that no one was looking at me, they were all watching the teacher behind me.”
Chen Luzhou figured she must be nervous, talking more than usual. “Then why did they still let you go up?”
Xu Zhi said: “Because I’m pretty, the teachers all liked to look at me. I might not be good at anything else, but I’m first-class when it comes to being eye candy.”
She didn’t leave any face for herself.
“Alright, we’re two of a kind,” Chen Luzhou entered the webpage, checking for Xu Zhi first. “Give me your exam registration number.”
Xu Zhi recited it from memory, “If it’s below 680, don’t tell me. That would mean I bombed it.”
“Does that include your electives?” he asked casually.
“Yes, I did better in the electives than in the third mock exam. I got 690 in total for the mock.”
“You can’t use that mock exam score as a reference. To boost your confidence, they made the papers easier—” Chen Luzhou entered the registration number and waited for the page to load, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly. He was about to offer some words of comfort, telling her not to set her expectations too high, but when the page loaded, he was genuinely surprised. He knew Xu Zhi had done well, but he hadn’t expected her score to be this high.
Especially for Ruijun Middle School to produce such a score, they’d probably plaster congratulatory posters all over the city center.
Well done, Xu Zhi.
The cicadas’ song was at its loudest and most high-pitched in those few minutes when the scores were released, as if all the cicadas in the entire city had gathered to sing this passionate opening song. Because everyone knew that the college entrance exam was also a game where one’s future was at stake, a contest of timing, geography, and human factors. Ability and luck were mixed in, but everyone still hoped that someone could win this game with absolute strength.
With a score like this, if you say it’s luck, that would be too far-fetched.
“Xu Zhi.”
“Hm?”
“Wait for A University’s call,” Chen Luzhou exited her page and entered his registration number. For the first time, he was genuinely sincere, setting aside his usual joking tone, “Indeed impressive. 738 including electives. Congratulations in advance, Architect Xu.”
Xu Zhi replied with equal affectation: “Thank you, Poet Chen.”