Jiang Yan took Guan Che’s words as nothing more than hot air and didn’t let them land. Besides — Guan Che had just taken one rather large piece of blame on his behalf, so Jiang Yan couldn’t exactly find it in him to argue back.

After Ninth Middle School’s teachers got back in touch with Guan Che, they skipped the pleasantries and simply told him to come to the principal’s office immediately.

What followed was more or less what Guan Che had anticipated.

Ninth Middle School’s principal and several admissions teachers went over matters related to his guaranteed-admission school options. Over the next few days, Guan Che met successively with admission representatives from several top domestic universities.

Shortly after, another long banner went up at Ninth Middle School’s gate:

Congratulations to our school’s Class Three (Science) student Guan Che for being successfully admitted on a guaranteed basis to Qing’an University’s Department of Computer Science!

The news of Guan Che’s guaranteed admission to Qing University had barely spread for a few days when the opening day of the National Physics Competition arrived.

The night before the competition, the seven of them went out for dinner together.

Guan Che was the last to arrive at the private room. Ever since his guaranteed admission came through, he had become perpetually busy — rarely seen from morning to night.

“Our Guan Che is the most talked-about person on the whole block now.” Hu Hanghang cradled his warm glass of corn milk and marveled. “Everywhere you go, someone’s saying ‘oh, that kid’s really something.'”

Hearing that, Guan Che — just seated — picked up a cherry tomato from the table and tossed it at him, grinning. “Since when was I something just starting now? I’ve been something for a long time. I don’t need you to say it.”

Hu Hanghang caught it, shrugged, and popped it into his mouth. “Still, Guan Che, you really are impressive in my eyes.”

“How impressive?” Guan Che deliberately stirred the pot. “More impressive than your Jiang Yan?”

“……” Self-snagged Hu Hanghang mulled it over, then chose his words carefully: “Well, you’d have to be just a slight notch below Jiang Yan.”

Guan Che curved his lips and looked at him with deliberate provocation.

Hu Hanghang recovered quickly. “But! You’re not a notch below in anything else — where you fall short is just that you’re single.”

“……”

Every part of that struck Guan Che as wrong.

Xu Yichuan quickly clamped a hand over Hu Hanghang’s still-going mouth, laughing. “Hey, don’t mind Pangpang — you know him, says the first thing that pops into his head. And as for being single — looking around this table, except for Jiang Yan and Lin Tao, literally everyone else is single. You’re not a notch below anyone.”

Guan Che: “……”

I feel like something’s still off about that statement 🙂

The topic of single versus not-single had no room to continue. Guan Che and Jiang Yan exchanged a few words about the competition, and the others, drifting in and out of the conversation, found themselves eventually turning to the topic of the college entrance exam.

Xu Yichuan, whose grades were not doing well, spent a long moment drowning his sorrows in two large cups of corn milk to no avail. “With grades like mine, I don’t think I’ll get into anywhere good. My dad said a few days ago that after the entrance exams, he might send me abroad.”

Hearing that, Hu Hanghang — also academically challenged — couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sadness. “At least you have the option of going abroad. Me, I’ll probably end up going to some ordinary university in the country.”

Lin Tao, seated next to Hu Hanghang, had just started to say something reassuring when Hu Hanghang made a complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn: “Which means I’ll have no choice but to go back and take over the family business.”

Everyone: “……”

Song Yuan looked at Hu Hanghang. “Pangpang, if it’s not your turn to talk, save it. No one will think you don’t exist.”

This was the first time the seven of them had sat together and talked about what lay ahead. Lin Tao could feel, vaguely, that parting was already near.

Xu Yichuan asked each person where they’d be going after graduation. “Jiang Yan, Guan Che, and Lin Tao obviously don’t even need to say it — they’re all Qing University people. What about everyone else?”

Meng Xin had long since fixed her sights on her goal, with no wavering. “I have only one target: Capital Medical University. If I don’t get in this year, I’ll come back and try again — until I do.”

Xu Yichuan nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, then looked at Song Yuan. “What about you, man?”

“Me? I don’t have grand ambitions.” Song Yuan — who always seemed steady and calm — had a goal that surprised them all. “I want to be a police officer. Protect the people who need protecting.”

The college entrance exam was like a one-way ticket: the destination looked the same for everyone, but once you got off the train, each person had their own place to go.

No gathering under heaven lasts forever. Every meeting, in time, must come to an end.

The mood at the table grew quietly heavy.

Xu Yichuan sighed. “I wonder, after graduation — will we ever have a chance to sit together like this again, eating and drinking.”

Jiang Yan, who had barely spoken since they sat down, smiled and said, unhurriedly, “Don’t you have summer and winter breaks?”

“……” Xu Yichuan pulled a face. “Jiang Yan, what kind of a person are you? I worked so hard to build up this mood, and you just dismantled it completely.”

Jiang Yan leaned back in his chair, his features warmed by the light, handsome and at ease, his voice low and steady. “There’s still a long road ahead of you. Plenty of chances. Don’t overthink it.”

After dinner, the seven of them headed to the internet café together.

On the way back, they passed a Chenguang stationery shop. Lin Tao pulled Jiang Yan inside. The two of them stopped in front of the pen display.

Lin Tao picked up several black ballpoint pens — the kind Jiang Yan used — and scribbled test marks on the blank sample paper nearby. She asked casually, “The exam’s tomorrow. Are you nervous?”

Jiang Yan leaned against the shelf and smiled. “Of course I’m nervous.”

Lin Tao gave a soft sound of surprise, the corner of her mouth curving upward for just a moment. “I thought you were someone who didn’t get nervous.”

“I’m not a divine being.” Jiang Yan looked at her. “I have things I’m afraid of, and things that make me nervous too.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Lin Tao held out the pens she’d chosen. “Look — each one I picked out says rise to glory on it, so they’ve already promised you’ll pass with flying colors.”

Jiang Yan looked down at the six black ballpoint pens in her hand, each cap printed with the words rise to glory, and curved his lips. “You’re kind of ridiculous, aren’t you.”

“……Not even a little.” Lin Tao said. “Come on, let’s go pay.”

“Sure.”

They came out of the shop with the pens, and without lingering any further outside, went directly back to the internet café, then each returned to their own rooms.

Considering Jiang Yan had the exam early the next morning, once Lin Tao was done with her shower, she decided not to go over to his room with practice papers the way she usually did. She sent him a message on WeChat instead:

I’m not coming over tonight! I’ll work on my practice papers here in my own room. You get some rest early, okay?

Jiang Yan seemed to be busy with something, because it was over ten minutes before he replied — but when he did, he told her to come over anyway:

Come over. I’ll watch you work.

……

Lin Tao had no choice but to pick up her practice papers, open the door, and walk into the room across the hall.

She had expected to find Jiang Yan reviewing material, or working through practice problems. Instead, he had procured a jigsaw puzzle from somewhere — and was currently sitting on the floor, piecing it together.

“You have an exam tomorrow and you’re this relaxed?” Lin Tao set her practice papers down on the empty space of the desk and sat down on the floor beside him.

A layer of soft fleece carpet covered the floor. It was comfortable to sit on.

Jiang Yan didn’t look up. He was holding a small puzzle piece between his fingers, apparently trying to work out where it belonged, his hand hovering suspended in midair, not yet setting it down.

“You already said the exam is tomorrow.” He placed the piece and looked up at her. “What good would cramming do at this point?”

“……” Lin Tao pressed the corner of her mouth down and said nothing.

Jiang Yan shifted a little to the side, lifted his chin slightly in a gesture. “Write your practice paper first. We’ll talk after.”

Lin Tao was out of arguments. She picked up a practice sheet, pulled a book from the desk to use as a flat surface. “I suspect you were a head of academic discipline in a past life.”

Jiang Yan laughed, and bent his head back down to study a puzzle piece, comparing it against the reference picture.

“I want to do the puzzle too,” Lin Tao said, dissatisfied.

“You can.” Jiang Yan said. “Finish the practice paper first, then you get the puzzle.”

Like coaxing a small child.

“……”

Lin Tao could only concede the point.

The room grew very quiet. The sound of a pen tip moving across paper was unusually crisp and clear. Jiang Yan sat beside her, silent, piecing together the puzzle. The girl he cared for sat right there beside him, and his heart was completely at ease.

“Jiang Yan.” Mid-practice paper, pausing to think through a difficult problem, Lin Tao suddenly asked, “Winter break is almost here. What are your plans for the New Year?”

Jiang Yan’s hands paused for a moment. He said softly, “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then do you want to come to my family’s for the New Year? I mean, my mom has met you already, so you’ve essentially already met the family — meeting one more person shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

Somehow, whenever Lin Tao thought of the night he had brought dumplings to her door, she was seized by the overwhelming urge to talk him into coming home with her.

Jiang Yan set down the puzzle piece in his hand, leaned back against the edge of the sofa, and reached over to give her earlobe a gentle pinch. “What’s this? You want me at your place that badly?”

“Yes.” Lin Tao leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw, her eyes bright and full of laughter. “So are you coming home with me or not?”

Jiang Yan looped an arm loosely around her and smiled, relenting. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

Getting the answer she wanted, Lin Tao settled back and returned to her practice paper.

Jiang Yan watched her for a moment, gave a nearly imperceptible soft sigh, then looked back down and returned to the puzzle.

He said nothing more.

The National Physics Competition opened at nine-thirty in the morning.

Jiang Yan received a call from Guan Che’s father shortly after seven — Guan Che’s father didn’t say much, only urged him repeatedly not to be nervous and not to put too much pressure on himself.

The phone was then passed over to Guan Che’s mother, who ran through a list of things to keep in mind regarding food and drink — no cold water, nothing raw or chilled, take care of yourself, and so on.

Jiang Yan agreed to everything, and it was only when Guan Che pointed out that the time was getting on that Guan Che’s mother finally prepared to hang up — and even then managed one last remark: “Take care on the road.”

“I will, thank you, Auntie.”

The call ended.

Guan Che was leaning in the doorway, watching Jiang Yan — already packed and ready — and said, “Come on, let’s go downstairs for breakfast.”

“Sure.” Jiang Yan picked up his schoolbag, glanced at the six pens Lin Tao had bought sitting at the corner of the desk, thought for a moment, and put them all in his bag. “Let’s go.”

Guan Che noticed the motion and curved his lips. “You’re only sitting one exam today — bringing that many pens, are you planning to do all the other candidates’ papers for them too?”

The two of them filed out of the room one after the other, Jiang Yan pulling the door shut behind him. “My girlfriend bought them. You wouldn’t understand.”

“……”

Breakfast had been arranged by Lin Tao, who had woken up early to go out for it: wonton soup and chicken congee, both light and easy on the stomach.

By the time they finished eating, it was nearly eight o’clock.

Guan Che took out one of the spare cars from his family’s home and decided to drive Jiang Yan to the exam site himself. Lin Tao had classes during the day, so she wasn’t going along.

Before they headed out, Guan Che went back upstairs for the car keys. Lin Tao and Jiang Yan waited for him downstairs.

“Don’t be nervous.” While no one was around, Lin Tao reached up and tugged at the front of Jiang Yan’s collar, rose onto her toes, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of his cheek. Her voice was soft. “Lucky kiss.”

Jiang Yan said nothing for a moment — then lowered his head and kissed the corner of her lips, smiling. “Next time, do it here.”

There was no time to linger.

Guan Che came back with the keys.

The three of them walked out together and parted at the entrance to the alley.

Lin Tao set off toward school.

Guan Che drove Jiang Yan to the exam site.

By the time they arrived, the open spaces outside were already packed with cars. Traffic police were directing vehicles through. Guan Che pulled into the temporary lot across from the exam building.

Looking out at the clusters of examinees accompanied by family members, he glanced back at Jiang Yan — still looking down at his phone — and mused, “Strange — I suddenly feel like a worried father.”

Jiang Yan looked up and gave him a sideways glance. “……”

Guan Che smiled, picked up his phone, unlocked it to check the time. “It’s almost eight-thirty — aren’t you supposed to go assemble with your school?”

“I’ll head over at eight-thirty.” Jiang Yan pocketed his phone and leaned back in his seat, eyes closed. “Give me a minute.”

“You alright?”

He shook his head. “Fine. Old habit.”

Closing his eyes for a few minutes before entering an exam was one of Jiang Yan’s small rituals. One brief rest, and somehow all the nerves and unsettled feelings seemed to dissolve away with it.

At eight-thirty, Jiang Yan got out of the car and went to find his school’s teachers for assembly.

Guan Che rolled down the window and rested his elbow on the sill. “Do well.”

Jiang Yan didn’t look back — just raised his arm and held up an OK sign.

The morning fog had lifted. Sunlight fell hot and bright.

The young man’s figure moved forward, side by side with the light.

Late January.

The National Physics Competition released its results to schools across the country.

Xi City’s exam district achieved outstanding results once again. A third-year student from Xi City’s Tenth Middle School took the top prize in the competition, winning both the written exam and the modeling competition to claim a double championship.

Compared to Ninth Middle School’s fanfare, Tenth Middle School was even more over-the-top.

Not only did they hang a banner at the school gate, but after Jiang Yan’s guaranteed admission to Qing University’s Department of Physics was confirmed, they set off ten strings of firecrackers right at the entrance.

The volleys thundered out, one after another, the sound ringing across the whole area.

Xi City’s exam district had produced outstanding results in both major competitions this year. The editor-in-chief of Xi City’s Education Information website arranged for reporters to visit Ninth Middle School and Tenth Middle School for interviews.

The two honorees, however, seemed rather less than cooperative.

To save time and reduce effort on everyone’s part, the website’s reporter team — after consulting with the admissions offices of both schools — decided to bring the two students together for a joint interview.

Jiang Yan had originally wanted to decline, but couldn’t withstand Teacher Yu’s patient, persistent persuasion, and in the end agreed. Guan Che was similarly dragged over by his homeroom teacher through sheer force of will.

The total interview time was half an hour.

For the first part, Jiang Yan and Guan Che managed to answer questions reasonably well. But when the reporter asked how they both studied at school day-to-day, and whether they had any study tips to share with students who followed the program, their answers nearly brought the entire room down in laughter — including reporters who had done field segments in typhoon conditions.

Reporter: “Could you tell us a bit about how you both study on a typical day at school? Do you have any study tips you’d like to share with our viewers?”

Guan Che answered first: “Honestly, I haven’t really studied that much. During class I’d mostly sleep, and when I wasn’t sleepy I’d play games for a bit. Oh right — I also used to game in pairs during class with Classmate Jiang here. Isn’t that right, Classmate Jiang Yan?”

Jiang Yan gave a completely serious nod. “That’s correct. As for whether we have any study tips to share…”

The reporter and the director looked at Jiang Yan, full of hope. The cameraman trained the lens on him.

Jiang Yan paused to consider, smiled, and said: “None. We are both simply naturally gifted.”

“……”