When they returned that night from the university, Pei Chuan’s residual limb was red, swollen, and already rubbed raw.

He looked at his own gruesome wound for a long time without speaking.

Bei Yao had a petite frame and was very light—it was just that he was too useless. The residual limb couldn’t bear weight to begin with. He had only gritted his teeth and carried her for less than ten meters, yet the consequence was his sensitive residual limb becoming gruesomely swollen.

Such an ugly body…

Pei Chuan coldly pulled at the corner of his mouth.

The winter break of the third year of high school only lasted a few days. After New Year’s Eve and Spring Festival were over, the third-year students had to return to class on the seventh day of the new year.

As soon as Pei Chuan got home, he received an email. He opened it—a man called “K” had sent him an email.

“Satan, this is your last chance. Finish that program!”—K.

Pei Chuan lowered his eyes, his finger clicking on the screen to delete the email.

Pei Chuan hadn’t replied to emails in a long time. The people on the other end had been discussing for quite a while.

“What do we do if he refuses to do it anymore?”

K laughed coldly: “Does he get to choose? He wants a normal life, to do well on the college entrance exam and go to university, doesn’t he? He’s just an eighteen-year-old punk. Let him know he can never be a normal person in this lifetime. Only we can accept him, this monster.”

In the spring of March, willow trees swayed gently in the spring breeze.

There were only three months left until the college entrance exam. On the Sixth High campus, not only had the third-year students become much more conscientious, even the first and second-year students had been influenced and become somewhat more composed.

In 2009, there had been no enrollment expansion yet. Universities were divided into first-tier, second-tier, third-tier, and vocational schools.

During evening self-study, Li Fangqun would call out some students for heart-to-heart talks, giving them psychological counseling. For example, she would encourage students whose usual exam scores hovered around the second-tier cutoff line to try for first-tier, and encourage students fluctuating around the vocational cutoff line to strive to get into undergraduate programs.

For a small city like C City, B University was not easy to get into.

Bei Yao was afraid of performing poorly on the college entrance exam, so she studied especially hard during review.

Because her response abilities weren’t as good as her peers when she was young, she had developed a good mindset—expecting everything to turn out as badly as possible. That way, success would be a pleasant surprise, and failure wouldn’t be discouraging.

Pei Chuan was too amazing. His scores would definitely get him into B University. She could only work a bit harder, so that even if she performed poorly, she could still get into that school.

When they returned to school this semester, there was no longer any afternoon nap time. Sixth High, which had always been lax, suddenly tightened management in the third year. Outside the windows, the homeroom teacher and principal took turns patrolling from time to time, making students anxious and forcing them to tuck in their tails and be good students.

Bei Yao’s second-year Class Six even implemented a phone confiscation policy. Every Monday, phones had to be turned in to Li Fangqun, then distributed back one by one on weekends.

They practically wanted to press students’ heads down on their desks and make them study hard in less than a hundred days.

The countdown written in chalk at the front of the classroom decreased day by day.

Finally, on the 75th day, a forum post spread like wildfire.

The first to see this message was Wu Mo.

When she opened the post, she was stunned. Her expression grew grave, her face growing paler the more she read. By the end, she was somewhat dazed.

How could this be possible! Impossible!

She stood up from her seat and walked to Bei Yao’s desk: “Tell me! This is fake, right? You know him. He definitely isn’t… crip…” Wu Mo bit her teeth—she couldn’t say it.

Bei Yao had been working on math problems. Hearing this, she raised her eyes, her gaze falling on Wu Mo’s phone.

It was an exposé post.

It began in 1996, that year when a very heavy rain fell.

The anti-narcotics police had achieved great merit, rescuing many innocent families. However, two children of police officers were subjected to insane revenge.

Those people had taken drugs, kidnapped those two children, and cut off one child’s hands and the other’s legs.

The criminals were utterly deranged, placing the severed hands and legs at the victims’ doorsteps, making their mothers see their children’s limbs with their own eyes.

Later, those two children were rescued.

The child whose hands were severed couldn’t be saved due to excessive blood loss.

The child whose legs were severed survived tenaciously.

Then flashlights focused on the child and his family. He lay in a hospital bed. In an old 1996 newspaper, the child’s pale face and mutilated body only occupied a small square.

The police officer who achieved merit was called Pei Haobin.

The child whose legs were severed was called Pei Chuan.

Too much time had passed. Their misfortune had gradually been forgotten.

The little boy in the photo was just a small bundle. Bei Yao’s finger trembled as it fell on his hollow eyes that were like black grapes.

Yang Jia turned her head, stammering: “Yaoyao, you’re crying?”

Really? Bei Yao touched her face—sure enough, it was covered with tears.

Seeing her reaction, Wu Mo bit her teeth and snatched back her phone. She still couldn’t accept it! The first person she liked was a liar, and the second young man she admired and looked up to was actually… such an incomplete person.

The name Pei Chuan no longer meant that unreliable young man from Third High.

He was the first place in everyone’s hearts across all three schools.

Bei Yao stood up and ran toward Third High.

The post had already been published for half a day. She was too late, too late to know this news.

~

When Jin Ziyang and the others came across this post, their faces initially showed complete disbelief. How could this be possible?

Nearly three years—Brother Chuan had played basketball with them, gone running with them. They’d spent so much time together—how could this be? The title read “Former Legless Boy Now Pretending to Be Rich Second Generation.”

Then, seeing the photo of the weak little boy, Jin Ziyang’s expression changed immediately: “Who the fuck did this!”

He was like an enraged little madman: “Zheng Hang, go investigate, find this person’s IP! Find him today and I’ll fucking kill him!”

Zheng Hang’s expression was also very grave. He glanced at Pei Chuan.

Pei Chuan was surprisingly calm.

Pei Chuan gripped his pen and continued calculating: Because the satellite orbits near Earth’s surface in circular motion, its orbital radius can be considered to be Earth’s radius R…

Zheng Hang gritted his teeth: “I’ll have someone delete the post right now.”

He found the post but discovered these posts were multiplying like fish crossing a river. Every time he directed someone to delete one, another would pop up.

Pei Chuan lowered his eyes, his pen continuing to write: From the gravitational force providing the centripetal force for the satellite’s circular motion…

Ji Wei also saw this post. He was stunned for several full minutes. Then, for the first time in years, he stopped studying and joined Zheng Hang and the others in deleting posts for an entire class period.

But there were too many… too many to delete.

No matter how many people they enlisted to delete together, new posts would appear the next moment.

Ji Wei’s eyes reddened.

Looking at his phone screen, he felt powerless for the first time—more powerless than doing poorly on an exam.

Pei Chuan remained very calm throughout. He finished all his homework, gathered his things, and walked toward his apartment.

He was quite well-known at school. After all, initially he hadn’t been a good student, skipping class every few days. Later he went through the “cheating” scandal. Most people at the school knew him.

From the classroom to the school gate, countless people secretly scrutinized his legs.

Jin Ziyang ran over to catch up with him: “Brother Chuan.” This formerly carefree rich second generation was nearly in tears. “Don’t worry. Someone must be playing a prank. By tonight… tonight we’ll have deleted all the posts, then find that bastard and kill him.”

Only then did Pei Chuan glance at him: “No need. Go back.”

“What about you?”

Pei Chuan was silent for a moment, then replied calmly: “Prepare for the college entrance exam.” He was going to get into B University.

The young man’s figure was stretched long by the March sunset.

Jin Ziyang roared once, nearly bursting into tears.

~

Bei Yao squatted downstairs from Pei Chuan’s small apartment. He had brought her here once and she remembered it.

The spring breeze of March breathed gently. The branches were emerald green. A bird hopped onto a branch, tilting its head to examine the girl who kept wiping away tears.

Bei Yao broke off green stems of weeds, weaving them alternately together.

Before he returned, Bei Yao had already wiped her tears clean.

Pei Chuan’s backpack was casually slung over his shoulder. As he walked past the apartment’s small flower bed, a soft body embraced him.

“Pei Chuan!”

He smiled: “Mm. Yaoyao, why did you come over? Shouldn’t you be studying hard?”

She lowered her eyes: “I was too tired. I slept at my desk for a while, and when I woke up, I found I missed you.”

He looked down at the small head at his chest: “Mm, I missed you too.”

She asked him: “How much did you miss me?”

Pei Chuan silently stroked her hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head: “On the way back, I saw the Two-Qiao magnolia blooming. When I saw it, I thought you would like it.”

He opened his hand, revealing a white magnolia he had bought.

“What if I hadn’t come?”

He didn’t speak.

Because it didn’t matter whether she came or not—he had simply grown accustomed to doing this every day.

She accepted the flower: “I also have a gift for you.”

He looked at her.

“Pei Chuan, hold out your hand.” She said, “No, the other hand.”

He obediently switched hands.

Bei Yao opened her tightly clenched hands and slipped the tender green stem onto his ring finger.

It was a ring.

The size was just right.

She asked him: “Do you like it?”

Pei Chuan’s Adam’s apple moved: “Mm.”

She smiled and stood on tiptoe, using her thumb to caress the corner of his lips: “Pei Chuan, when you’re happy you should smile, when you’re sad you should cry. You can’t live like a machine and hold everything in until you break.”

He lowered his eyes, looking at the “ring” on his ring finger.

After steeling his heart for so long, he ultimately couldn’t bear to return it to her. He clenched his fist.

Her real ring would go to someone else in the future. He had this… having this was already very, very good.

Bei Yao said: “I’m especially greedy. I’m giving you this now, but in a few years, you have to give me a real one, understand?”

She was extremely serious. In her bright, watery eyes, his silent form was reflected.

Pei Chuan said: “Okay.”

She nodded happily, took a step back, and tilted her head to look him over: “Oh my, whose boyfriend is this? So generous and handsome.”

His lips curved imperceptibly.

~

When he returned to school on Monday, Pei Chuan discovered that many people were no longer secretly or curiously looking at his legs.

Ji Wei stood nervously at the classroom door, mouthing: “Brother Chuan is coming, he’s coming!”

Jin Ziyang made an “OK” gesture and pulled out a signature book from his desk.

Pei Chuan walked into the classroom. The classmates’ gazes weren’t as strange as before—just like always. Those studying seriously were bent over their problems, those joking around continued joking around.

Not a single person looked at him with strange eyes.

Pei Chuan raised his eyes.

Jin Ziyang ran over and stuffed a small booklet into his hands. He coughed seriously: “Brother Chuan, we didn’t get to give you a gift for your birthday last time. Today we’re making up for it.”

A book with a black cover.

Pei Chuan glanced at him. Jin Ziyang coughed. This was the first time doing something this sentimental—the second-generation rich kids were all uncomfortable.

Pei Chuan opened to the first page.

Ugly, large characters written crookedly: “Brother Chuan is the coolest in the world!—Jin Ziyang”

Below was Zheng Hang’s: Brother Chuan is awesome, forever first place.

Flipping further was elementary school handwriting.

“Brother Chuan will get into Cambridge on the college entrance exam! Cambridge!—Ji Wei”

Cambridge was the most noble thing in Ji Wei’s heart.

Pei Chuan lowered his eyes and continued flipping.

Countless messages, over a thousand of them. People he knew, people he didn’t know. Boys’, girls’. From first year to third year, every single one was encouragement. Even Wei Wan had written a sentence: “Just walk the road ahead.”

Jin Ziyang, Zheng Hang, and Ji Wei had run around for an entire day with this book, filling it with messages.

So many, ultimately converging into one phrase.

“Pei Chuan, keep going!”

Pei Chuan said nothing. His fingers gripped the book tightly.

It turned out the world wasn’t only full of malice and loneliness. Not a single person mentioned his disability.

Being a good person—even if he didn’t do bad things—that was also a pretty good thing, wasn’t it?