After everyone left, Zhou Jingze acted as if nothing had happened, taking Xu Sui to the restaurant on the second floor of the cafeteria for a special meal. Sheng Nanzhou and Da Liu, because Zhou Jingze was treating, ordered double portions.
Zhou Jingze leaned back against the blue chair, playing games on his phone. Hearing the commotion, he lifted his eyes to glance at the two in front of him, letting out an extremely faint sneer:
“Pathetic.”
“Hey, we’re just benefiting from being with Sister Xu.” Da Liu sat down and said.
Xu Sui’s ears grew slightly warm as she quickly said: “No.”
Everyone sat down one after another and began eating. After chatting for a bit, they still turned the conversation to that bet. Da Liu said while putting ribs in his mouth: “The flight technology assessment in a month is just the finals, right? I heard there are even city journalists coming to do a feature. That guy really knows how to pick his timing.”
Thinking of that thin, usually quiet, somewhat gloomy Gao Yang made Sheng Nanzhou disgusted. He sneered coldly: “That study freak, no matter how hard he works, he still can’t catch up to you. Last time in the flight simulator test and English theory test, you were first, right? I bet all the instructors praising you made him resentful.”
Zhou Jingze frowned slightly, without a trace of memory: “Can’t remember.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember. It seems like no matter what competition or assessment, his grades always rank behind Master Zhou, except for this basketball game,” Da Liu slapped his forehead suddenly, then changed the subject, “Bro, are you confident?”
Zhou Jingze was too lazy to play along with Da Liu. He unscrewed the cap of his ice water and took a sip, his gaze sweeping over Xu Sui across from him. He noticed she had barely touched the food in front of her, poking at rice with her chopsticks, her dark eyelashes lowered, lost in thought.
“Not spicy enough?” Zhou Jingze raised an eyebrow, guessing.
Xu Sui shook her head. She was also thinking about the bet. For someone as proud as Zhou Jingze, she really couldn’t imagine him streaking and admitting defeat to someone—wouldn’t that crush his self-esteem?
“How about we call off that bet? What if you lose?” Xu Sui’s tone was worried.
Zhou Jingze screwed the bottle cap back on, smiling casually with a hint of arrogance: “I won’t lose.”
After returning to school, Xu Sui told Hu Qianxi about this. The young lady was so angry she slapped the table: “That Li Hao must be crazy. Suisui, were you hurt?”
Xu Sui had just bought rainbow candy from the convenience store and handed it to Hu Qianxi, saying: “I’m fine, it’s just Zhou Jingze’s bet—”
“It’s fine, he has his limits.” Hu Qianxi waved her hand grandly.
She tore open the rainbow candy wrapper, bit off a long piece—sweet and sour—then spoke again: “But Suisui, I really feel like my uncle likes you a bit. Otherwise, why would he always give you special treatment?”
Xu Sui’s heart skipped, but she still denied: “Because he’s a good person.”
It had been like this since high school—beneath his wild appearance was righteousness and kindness, respecting everyone. He was a well-raised, excellent boy.
Xu Sui’s self-denial and sensitivity in relationships made Hu Qianxi sigh. She looked at Xu Sui: “Why don’t you try it? How about confessing to him? You said he’s good—how long do you plan to secretly like him like this?”
“I don’t dare.” Xu Sui’s eyes showed retreat.
“How about making a bet—if he wins, you confess. What do you think?” Hu Qianxi suggested, “Give it a try. Maybe you can end these three years of secret love.”
Xu Sui was silent for a long time, finally nodding: “Okay.”
After showering that evening, Xu Sui was still worried about the day’s events. She sent a message asking: [For the flying competition, don’t you have claustrophobia?]
Two minutes later, the screen lit up. ZJZ replied: [Who told you I have claustrophobia?]
Xu Sui hesitated, then said: [In high school, I heard them say so.]
After what seemed like a long time, ZJZ replied: [Not exactly claustrophobia, just mild. To be precise, I’m afraid of dark, enclosed spaces. The competition is during the day.]
Just as Xu Sui was about to reply, Zhou Jingze sent another message:
[Don’t worry.]
Xu Sui finally breathed a sigh of relief. She set her phone aside, sitting at her desk with half-wet, half-dry hair. She turned on the desk lamp and took out a diary from the drawer, with a letter tucked inside.
The letter paper had some marks and looked old. Xu Sui held the corner of the letter paper and looked at it for a long time. She had been writing this letter since she secretly fell in love with Zhou Jingze, always fantasizing about giving it to him someday.
But she never dared hand it over.
Until now, Xu Sui occasionally still revised and wrote on the letter paper, even though in this era, confessing through letters had become outdated.
What to do—should she confess?
Should she take the gamble?
The agreed competition day arrived quickly. Since these days were North Aviation Flight Academy’s final assessment period, when Xu Sui and others were in class, they could often hear rumbling sounds overhead—planes dragging their tails across the rooftops, soaring into the clouds.
The day of Zhou Jingze and Gao Yang’s competition caused a sensation throughout the academy. North Aviation had always had an open and free academic atmosphere, so instructors and controllers weren’t surprised to hear about the students’ bet.
Several teachers stood on the North Aviation airfield, along with a journalist and a photographer. Instructor Zhang smiled at the controller: “Interesting, they have that youthful recklessness we had back in our day.”
“Journalist Song, there happens to be a competition here—you have material to write about now,” Instructor Zhang laughed cheerfully, then turned to look at the aircraft controller, saying, “Old Gu, let’s make a bet. Who are you backing to win?”
“Naturally, I’m backing my student, Zhou Jingze,” the aircraft controller said.
“Then I’ll back Gao Yang. That kid’s pretty good too, very hardworking.”
Before the competition began, everyone came to the control room. Since Zhou Jingze had spoken to the teachers in advance, and Old Gu doted on him, Xu Sui and Hu Qianxi were also allowed to enter the control room to watch the entire competition.
On screen, Zhou Jingze wore a sky-blue flight suit with black pants. On his shoulders were golden embroidered flight insignia. Under his black cap brim, his eyes were dark and sharp, his neck straight, his stern face carrying a casual, relaxed smile that made him look both dashing and handsome.
This was the first time Xu Sui saw Zhou Jingze in formal flight attire. Through the screen, she couldn’t blink, her heart pounding as she watched.
The flight cadet and instructor entered the aircraft cockpit together. The moment Zhou Jingze sat down, he quickly surveyed and checked the equipment in the cockpit.
“You don’t seem nervous at all,” the instructor smiled.
Zhou Jingze bit a marker pen, lowering his head to strap the knee board to his right thigh, pulling at the corner of his mouth: “I’m pretending.”
“…” The instructor.
Initially, Zhou Jingze was a bit nervous, but when the plane started up—shaking slightly then slowly ascending—his nervousness dissipated somewhat.
Outside the screen, the instructors watched Gao Yang take off first. This test flight route wasn’t long—from central Beijing north to Tongguang, Mo City, then returning along a fixed route.
Gao Yang’s was T-789018, Zhou Jingze’s was passenger plane G-588017. Both aircraft flew into the sky one after another. After takeoff was stable and smooth, AUPI (autopilot) started up.
Zhou Jingze breathed a sigh of relief. He began reading instrument panel data while recording on his knee board, scanning ten lines at once. Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last long—halfway through the flight, the aircraft experienced technical problems.
The instrument panel showed Engine 3’s oil temperature was too high, with warning messages appearing on the engine page. The beeping warning sounds reminded Zhou Jingze that his luck was bad today—the aircraft had unexpected malfunctions.
The warning text was glaring and eye-catching, reminding Zhou Jingze he needed to solve the problem quickly. The instructors and controllers outside hadn’t expected Zhou Jingze to encounter such a low-probability malfunction.
Xu Sui stood there, palms sweating, silently praying for Zhou Jingze to successfully resolve the issue.
Back to the screen, the co-pilot instructor spoke: “Need help?”
Zhou Jingze shook his head, raising his hand to shut down the generator, his deep voice steady: “To reduce generator load and thereby lower oil temperature, so I’m shutting down one generator.”
The engine page still showed warning messages.
“Now what?” the co-pilot instructor asked.
“Shut down engine.” Zhou Jingze slightly rolled his tongue, his standard, fluent voice rolling from his throat.
His reaction was quite fast.
The controller outside showed appreciation, unconsciously shouting: “Beautiful!” Xu Sui standing behind couldn’t help but smile.
Clouds drifted past the window. The instructor didn’t give Zhou Jingze a thumbs up but instead held his arm horizontally, making a fist toward him. Zhou Jingze paused, then his thin lips curved upward as he bumped fists with the instructor.
During the return flight, the plane was passing through cloud layers, flying over Mo City. Under the blue sky spread endless desert—large patches of red and brown like a patchwork, becoming a flowing rainbow under the light.
It was exactly 5:59 AM. Zhou Jingze piloted the aircraft through the Beijing-31 route, crossing the desert. Glancing outside casually, he froze.
An orange-red sun was slowly rising, tearing open a gap, scattering thousands of golden rays across the earth. The mist gradually dispersed, and because the sun was closer than usual, Zhou Jingze seemed to feel its heat. It gradually transitioned from orange-red to golden yellow, like an entire newborn universe appearing before you.
Thousands of rays of light, brief yet brilliant.
“Teacher, could you help me photograph the sunrise outside the cabin?” Zhou Jingze asked.
The instructor glanced outside the window, then turned back teasingly: “What, never seen a sunrise?”
“Mm, first time.” Zhou Jingze smiled.
It really was as Xu Sui had said—sunrise was no worse than sunset. Wait a little longer, and there would always be better scenery.
This was his first sunrise encountered while flying a plane.
Outside the screen, though the plane was still returning, the controller looked like his student had already won, his tail wagging: “How about it, Old Zhang? Want to switch sides? Otherwise, your 200 yuan won’t be safe.”
Instructor Zhang shook his head stubbornly: “Zhou Jingze’s performance is commendable, but the most crucial part of flying—safe landing—hasn’t come yet, right? I still think Gao Yang will win. He’s more peaceful, reserved, reliable, and steady. Zhou Jingze is too sharp—there are too many uncertain factors about him.”
The atmosphere fell silent. The controller continued: “That’s true, but you heard just now—his operation was very smooth. When communicating with the co-pilot, before we could think of it, before the co-pilot could speak, he seemed to know what we were thinking, made a prediction, and immediately proposed ‘connect to Mo City’s signal.'”
“This kid’s commands are all based on an eagle’s keenness and instinct. He’s a genius pilot, truly born for the sky.”
The instructor was silent for a moment, saying: “Let’s keep watching.”
Both aircraft were about to land, and everyone outside the screen watched with wide eyes. Gao Yang’s landing strictly followed what the teachers taught—the touchdown was very qualified, the entire operation steady and even.
Instructor Zhang breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhou Jingze sat in the cockpit. After checking various instruments, he aligned with R1, the runway centerline, forming a small angle with the runway, descending slowly.
His expression was very calm, even somewhat confident. When the plane was thirty-five feet above ground, his well-defined hands gripped the control stick, pulling up slightly to raise the nose.
Zhou Jingze’s state remained effortless throughout. He aimed for the runway threshold, the aircraft slowly descending, the angle with the ground becoming smaller and smaller.
At the moment of touchdown, there was only slight shaking.
For a cadet, this was an almost impossible operation to complete. People in the control room gasped—this landing was too beautiful and flawless.
“You won.” Instructor Zhang gave the final verdict.
As soon as he finished speaking, the young people in the control room let out a cheer and immediately rushed out. Hu Qianxi winked at Xu Sui and pulled her to run out too.
On the airport runway, Sheng Nanzhou and others rushed over to give Zhou Jingze a fierce hug. Da Liu patted his shoulder: “Buddy, you’re really something.”
“I truly admire you this time.” Sheng Nanzhou was genuinely happy for him.
Outside the runway stood Gao Yang and Li Hao. Gao Yang’s expression wasn’t very good, but he still managed to maintain composure on his face, walking over to shake hands with Zhou Jingze politely: “Congratulations.”
Zhou Jingze glanced at the extended hand but didn’t shake it. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Li Hao beside him, his voice somewhat cold:
“Remember to apologize to the girl.”
Li Hao’s facial expression could no longer be described as ugly. He said reluctantly: “I know.”
A female reporter walked over to interview Zhou Jingze, asking: “How did you manage such a perfect landing?”
“Instinct.” Zhou Jingze gave a brief two-word answer.
But Xu Sui suspected he was simply too lazy to talk, throwing out two words to brush off the reporter. Sure enough, she guessed right. The next second, the female reporter continued: “What are your expectations for the blue sky in the future?”
Zhou Jingze became serious, gesturing for the reporter to come closer. The reporter obediently took two steps forward. He showed a roguish smile:
“Guess.”
After speaking, the reporter stood frozen in place, while Zhou Jingze glanced back at the ill-intentioned looks from the boys in his class and immediately retreated.
The boys from Zhou Jingze’s class rushed over to congratulate him. Class One and Class Two never got along well, but this time he had finally given everyone a chance to vent.
The boys surrounded Zhou Jingze, first politely congratulating: “Congratulations, master, you’ve brought honor to our class again.”
“Shouldn’t you treat us? Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Fine.”
Zhou Jingze dropped one word and turned to run, but outnumbered, the boys grabbed his pant legs to prevent his escape. Zhou Jingze stumbled and almost fell, laughing as he cursed:
“Don’t grab my pants, damn it.”
All the boys lifted him into the air, raising Zhou Jingze up and down like this while chanting slogans:
“Class One is the best, Zhou Jingze is awesome!”
“Charge! The entire blue sky is ours.”
Zhou Jingze pressed down on his pants while speaking with three parts roguishness: “Enough, I wasn’t as dizzy on the plane as you’re making me now. I’m about to puke.”
A surveying major student passed by in the middle, laughingly teasing: “They say those who fly in the sky are pampered soldiers—seems like you’re not so good on land.”
“Why don’t we compete and find out? You guys run on the ground anyway.” Zhou Jingze raised an eyebrow, his tone arrogant.
The other boys in the class got excited, saying: “Right, we’re all bipedal animals. Why the professional discrimination?”
“Like this—using this white line as the start, whoever runs to the red flag first wins. How about it?”
“Sure.”
“One, two, three, run!”
Though this was the most childish game among the boys, they played it enthusiastically. Under the blazing sun, somewhat dazzling, Xu Sui shaded her eyes with her hand, looking into the distance.
Zhou Jingze had somehow taken off his jacket. Like an arrow released from a bow, he shot toward the distance. Wind blew, puffing his shirt into a corner like a sail on the sea.
Near the finish line, Zhou Jingze instead slowed down, turned around to run backward against the wind. The spirited young man even gave them the middle finger, showing a wildly arrogant smile.
The red flag fluttered behind him in the wind. Zhou Jingze’s aura was fierce yet rebellious, arrogant and wild, yet heart-fluttering.
A young man in swift wind around the flag.
Xu Sui watched, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. This time her heartbeat was faster than ever before. Regarding her feelings for Zhou Jingze, constantly doubting herself in insecurity and sensitivity, she was always pulling herself back and forth, up and down.
But this time, she wanted to approach the light source once.
What if she caught it?
Secret love was like moss—inconspicuous, withering in waiting, yet when the wind blew, it grew endlessly.
Crush wasn’t shy, passionate, brief affection, but shy, passionate, long-lasting affection—a continuous verb.
After the group finished playing, instructors and teachers came before the sweaty boys, smiling: “You all need to keep working hard.”
The boys saluted, being mischievous: “We follow the chief’s teachings!”
The instructor pointed at them and laughed helplessly, then took out a badge and a red envelope for Zhou Jingze: “Old Zhang asked me to give this to you. The badge is also yours, engraved with your name—it’s the reward for this competition.”
Zhou Jingze unceremoniously accepted the red envelope and badge, his tongue touching his lower jaw as he smiled: “Thanks, Old Gu.”
After the teachers left, Zhou Jingze held up the red envelope, gesturing for Xu Sui to come over. Xu Sui jogged over with Hu Qianxi.
Xu Sui looked up at Zhou Jingze, her eyes sparkling: “Congratulations.”
“I should thank you too. Here, take this to buy candy.” Zhou Jingze smiled casually, handing her the red envelope.
Under everyone’s gaze, Xu Sui didn’t know where she found the courage. She shook her head, nervousness showing in her eyes: “I want that badge.”
At these words, everyone began making “wow” sounds. Sheng Nanzhou, not minding the excitement, said: “Little Teacher Xu, my test hasn’t started yet—I’ll have this badge too. Why don’t you want mine?”
After all, she was a thin-skinned, sensitive girl. Zhou Jingze remained silent for a long time, his deep eyes staring straight at her, his face expressionless.
Her heart was thrown into turmoil. Xu Sui was about to retreat, her throat dry. Just as she was about to say “I was joking,” Zhou Jingze suddenly leaned down, his voice vibrating by her ear:
“Take it.”