On May seventeenth, Pei Haobin got off work very early. Then he shut himself in the study and didn’t come out.

Bai Yutong said: “What’s Uncle Pei doing? He didn’t even respond when called for dinner.”

Cao Li wiped her hands on her apron. Thinking of how Pei Haobin had locked away all the awards and medals he’d received over the years in the safe a few days ago, and recalling that night’s conversation, her expression darkened: “Today is Pei Chuan’s eighteenth birthday.”

Bai Yutong’s eyes widened.

Cao Li’s heart was also uneasy. After all, she was his second wife, and Bai Yutong wasn’t Pei Haobin’s biological daughter. As captain of the criminal police, Pei Haobin sometimes had very dangerous assignments.

The mother and daughter’s current comfortable lifestyle all depended on Pei Haobin. Cao Li didn’t have much work—her education level wasn’t high, her temperament wasn’t steady. She only had one merit: she was good at figuring out and pleasing others.

What Cao Li feared most was that Pei Haobin would secretly write a will and leave all his assets to Pei Chuan. This man wouldn’t be so heartless as to leave her and Bai Yutong homeless, but they’d probably only get one apartment and scattered property.

Pei Haobin and Jiang Wenjuan had struggled for many years and had quite a family fortune. Even catching glimpses of it, Cao Li felt the Pei family’s circumstances were truly good.

No matter how much Cao Li and Bai Yutong tried to please Pei Haobin, they were still two outsiders. Pei Chuan was his biological son.

When a son grew up, families generally busied themselves buying him a house and finding him a wife. If Pei Haobin realized this, combined with his guilt, he might very well leave everything to Pei Chuan.

At this thought, Cao Li lost her usual composure and felt somewhat panicked.

After the mother and daughter spoke privately, Bai Yutong panicked even more. She still remembered how terrifying it was when Pei Chuan nearly strangled her. If all the money went to Pei Chuan, he definitely wouldn’t look after her and her mother.

Bai Yutong said: “Mom, I have an idea—why don’t you give Uncle Pei another little brother?”

A healthy child, Pei Haobin’s biological offspring, would be the mother and daughter’s true support.

Cao Li glared at her: “You think I don’t want to? Is this something you can have just by wanting it?” She was nearly forty this year. Even if she got pregnant, she’d be an advanced maternal age mother. Moreover… Pei Haobin was careful about contraception.

Whether the child had left him with too deep a psychological shadow, over the past two years Pei Haobin had never mentioned wanting another child.

Cao Li said: “Enough. Go do what you need to do and don’t annoy me. I’m telling you, if you’re sensible, you’ll work hard at your studies. That way I’ll feel more secure too.”

Bai Yutong pouted.

That afternoon, Pei Haobin came out of his room. His mood wasn’t good. He rubbed his face with both hands without speaking and went into the bathroom.

Cao Li quietly picked up his phone. There was an unfamiliar number showing a call duration of thirty-two minutes.

Cao Li’s heart jumped as she guessed—

This call was most likely from Pei Haobin’s ex-wife, Jiang Wenjuan. After all, as Pei Chuan’s biological parents, they would certainly remember his birthday. Cao Li’s heart panicked. She feared Pei Haobin’s guilt would take over and he’d want to leave everything to Pei Chuan in the future. She gritted her teeth and made a decision—she had to give Pei Haobin a child.

She hadn’t guessed wrong. The call was indeed from Jiang Wenjuan.

Jiang Wenjuan had lived well these years and hadn’t planned on having more children. Her husband treated her very well. However, on the seventeenth, she still thought of that child.

Jiang Wenjuan had once told him that Mommy was on a business trip, then never came back.

Jiang Wenjuan had insomnia all night. With her husband’s comfort, the next day she gathered courage to call Pei Haobin, wanting to speak with Pei Chuan. Her heart filled with guilt and fear, yet she never imagined that Pei Chuan had long since left home. Jiang Wenjuan’s emotions spiraled and she immediately argued with Pei Haobin.

In the end, Pei Haobin promised that all his future assets would be inherited by Pei Chuan.

~

That night at Qingshi, Jin Ziyang and the others were celebrating Pei Chuan’s birthday.

Everyone knew that since Christmas night, Pei Chuan hadn’t smoked, so they each smoked their own. Ji Wei held a book—he also didn’t smoke or drink.

Jin Ziyang feared it wouldn’t be lively enough and invited many people over. Pei Chuan frowned as soon as he saw.

There were even underclassmen girls from first year.

Jin Ziyang said: “Brother Chuan, it’s your birthday. More people makes it livelier. We’re just playing cards and games anyway.”

Jin Ziyang truly had no ulterior motive, but certain underclassmen girls thought differently. Among the boys, the most handsome was Pei Chuan—sharp features, very cool when silent.

Everyone knew Jin Ziyang changed girlfriends faster than clothes. Zheng Hang seemed to have someone he liked. As for Ji Wei, forget it—he had money, sure, but studying was the girlfriend he’d never betray.

Only Pei Chuan. Although no one knew his family background, everyone knew he’d driven luxury cars. Moreover, they’d only heard about that Wei Wan matter before, and later Wei Wan had withdrawn from their circle too.

Pei Chuan was single.

Tonight he turned eighteen—the boundary between youth and manhood. The girls stole glances at him, hearts aflutter.

Pei Chuan’s phone rang. It was Pei Haobin calling.

Pei Haobin had previously asked his homeroom teacher for Pei Chuan’s number.

On the other end, Pei Haobin sounded somewhat awkward: “It’s your birthday tonight. Come home for dinner. I had your Aunt Cao prepare everything.”

Pei Chuan laughed once: “Officer Pei, you and your family should eat together.”

How thoughtful of you to remember you have a son who’s come of age. But he didn’t need your care when he was a minor, and needs it even less now that he’s an adult.

Pei Chuan hung up and blocked the number while he was at it.

Seeing his poor expression, someone boldly approached, smiling: “Brother Chuan, it’s your birthday. Let me toast you—happy birthday.”

Pei Chuan said: “I’m not drinking anymore.”

Jin Ziyang looked shocked: “Brother Chuan, are you serious? No smoking, no drinking—are you cultivating immortality?”

Pei Chuan thought of something. His cold, hard expression showed some softness as he nodded: “So you all have fun. I’m going home before ten.”

Everyone responded with stunned acknowledgment.

When Pei Chuan actually got up to leave at nine-fifty, everyone’s faces showed complex emotions.

Zheng Hang walked him downstairs and glanced at Pei Chuan’s expression: “Brother Chuan, do you have a girlfriend?” Though they didn’t say it aloud, everyone guessed this privately.

Upstairs someone was singing. The noise was chaotic. City C’s night scenery was very beautiful—not garishly pretty, but quietly beautiful.

Pei Chuan pressed his lips together: “No.”

Zheng Hang saw that even saying no, his eyes remained gentle.

Pei Chuan drove off. His luxury car was very eye-catching.

After the car disappeared from view, Zheng Hang belatedly wondered: if you don’t have a girlfriend, then who are you changing your lifestyle for?

Restraining yourself?

~

Pei Chuan’s car cost five million.

The small apartment was purchased under someone else’s name but could be resold. In his bank account there was… a very large sum.

At the end of May, Pei Chuan sold the car, having it restored to original condition before selling.

In 2008, for ordinary families, this was a huge sum of money.

Yet Pei Chuan felt it wasn’t enough. He frowned at the string of zeros in another bank card. There was more money here, but he couldn’t touch it.

Pei Chuan worked three hours every night, from 11 PM to 2 AM—he’d maintained this for a year.

He opened his computer, his gaze resting on a program for several seconds. He clicked delete.

This was password-theft software, half-finished. If completed, combined with hacking techniques, it could steal money from financial institutions at will.

There was also security breach programming. He opened a program he’d worked on for half a year, his finger hovering over the mouse.

Permanent deletion.

The last item was one of the sources for that largest sum.

Pei Chuan lowered his gaze, unwilling to think about what “it” was actually for. He clicked permanent deletion.

Just as June arrived, Pei Chuan received a call from a man.

“Satan, August is the final deadline. Do you have any leads?”

Pei Chuan was silent for a moment before answering: “I’m not doing it anymore. Find someone else.”

The person said excitedly: “Are you joking! After half a year, this is how you answer us!” If they could find someone capable of writing these programs in 2008, they’d worship this genius youth like a god and support him according to his requirements, letting him live a normal high school life.

Pei Chuan said calmly: “That’s it.”

Pei Chuan looked at the room full of coding books and locked the door.

That dirty money—if necessary, he would turn it over to the country.

It wasn’t that his conscience had awakened, nor was he going to be good from now on. He still didn’t much like this world—the world that let him be born whole, then stripped away his legs and everything else.

He just felt that since he’d kissed her, he should at least be clean.

He didn’t know how many years he could stay by her side, but he wanted to go to university with her, watch her grow up and come of age.

They’d soon be third-years. He wondered which university she wanted to attend, which part of the country she’d go to. Would she go see the snow in the north? Or the gentle waters of the south?

He smiled. The little girl hadn’t chosen to be with him.

Still angry.

~

Bei Yao was indeed angry—angry enough that the winter scarf still hadn’t been returned to him even though it was summer.

There would be supplementary classes this summer vacation. With senior year approaching, every classroom had enthusiastically hung banners—”Add one point, eliminate a thousand people”

“Without the college entrance exam, can you compete with rich second-generation kids?”

“Outscore the rich and handsome, defeat the official second-generation!”

“Why sleep long in life when you’ll sleep long after death.”

“There’s a way forward, no way back; leaving an escape route is the road to death!”

…

Even some nutritional supplement companies jumped on the college entrance exam bandwagon, promoting brain-boosting supplements.

As the college entrance exam drew near, everyone finally felt some sense of urgency.

Everyone was quite humorous though, joking: “The exam’s coming soon—should we down a bottle of ‘Brain Power Up’? Guaranteed to add a hundred points and eliminate a whole bunch of people.”

However, compared to the exam still a year away, more novel was the upcoming Olympics.

August 8, 2008—a very auspicious date. Athletes from all over the world would gather in the homeland to participate in this sporting spectacle.

This symbolized the increasingly powerful and prosperous nation, and meant this was a peaceful world.

Even Chen Feifei, who didn’t follow politics, said: “I really want to go to City B during summer vacation to see the Olympics in person. I could die without regrets. Yaoyao, do you want to go?”

“Yes.” Bei Yao said honestly. “It’ll definitely be spectacular, but we’ll probably only watch it on TV.”

She’d watch it on TV with Zhao Zhilan and the others then.

Watching the Olympics in person required tickets—you couldn’t necessarily get them even with money. Plus the tickets were expensive, City B’s prices were high—far beyond what small citizens like them could afford.

So no one took such talk to heart.

Just daydreaming. Who really had the ability to get live tickets now?

Before school let out for vacation in July, Bei Yao saw Pei Chuan, who’d beaten her ranking by over twenty places. He held steady at first place. This time no one said he’d cheated.

Only admiration remained.

She puffed out her cheeks, thinking that with more effort, she’d surpass this annoying jerk.

But reality was, she couldn’t even surpass Minmin, who ranked in the city’s top ten-plus.

Bei Yao deflated.

The day school let out, Zhao Zhilan went as usual to pick up little Bei Jun from preschool. Bei Yao went home alone. The summer sunlight created dazzling silhouettes. Bei Yao saw the youth under the tree.

Nearly two months of grievance made her want to beat him hard, yet when he softly called Yaoyao, she still went over.

“Take this.” he said.

Not seeing each other for two months, he looked much more mature. He placed a stack of something in her hand. Bei Yao looked down—they were tickets to the 2008 Olympics.

Half in magnificent red and yellow, half white, quality paper, exquisite and beautiful.

In the bottom right corner, a cute little cartoon ox.

She stared blankly at the four tickets, then looked up at him.

The youth smiled: “Go have fun, okay?”

Bei Yao looked and said quietly: “There are four.”

“Mm. You, Aunt Zhao, Uncle Bei, and Bei Jun can all go.”

“What about you?” She looked up, her large eyes dewy. Looking like she’d cry from heartache again.

He smiled: “I’ll wait for you here.” Wait for you to see the world’s splendor, to see able-bodied people competing athletically and the power of life, then decide whether to come back. August is the most beautiful August—your seventeenth birthday.