Ms. Zhao Zhilan was famously devoted to her daughter.
Back in the day, in the entire residential complex, she was the only one who picked up Bei Yao from kindergarten and continued doing so until Bei Yao started middle school. Sometimes at Zhao Xiu’s house, Teacher Fang—Fang Mingjun’s father—would come pick her up, and Chen Hu’s parents took turns picking up their child. Only Zhao Zhilan never missed a single moment of Bei Yao’s growth.
She knew at what age their Bei Yao lost her baby teeth, knew how old Bei Yao was when she got her period, knew what colors her daughter liked and disliked. In Zhao Zhilan’s era, Bei Yao’s maternal grandmother favored Zhao Zhilan’s younger brother—the preference for sons over daughters was imprinted in several generations’ hearts. Back then, Zhao Zhilan had thought: if I ever have a daughter, I must raise her well, let her grow up happy and cherished like a precious pearl.
Ms. Zhao indeed treated Bei Yao this way.
Having won 120,000 yuan in prize money, Zhao Zhilan felt like she was walking on air.
Their family’s savings accumulated over all these years didn’t even reach 120,000. It was mainly because they’d given money to that wastrel Zhao Xing before, and later as Bei Jun grew up year by year, which of the daily necessities didn’t cost money? The Bai family hadn’t managed to save much.
When Zhao Zhilan went to bed that night, she told Bei Licai about this: “Honey, my heart is pounding—how can such a good thing happen in this world? Our boss was never this generous before.”
“Did your department have exceptionally good performance last quarter?”
“Good, but not really. There were times before when we did even better, and we never saw that tightwad give us a single extra penny.”
Bei Licai thought for a moment. Seeing his wife both secretly delighted and worried about this “windfall,” he could only comfort her: “Don’t worry about it. Since the company gave out this money, it can’t possibly be from any improper source. If you’re talking about good luck, those who win millions in lotteries—that’s real good luck.”
Zhao Zhilan thought about it and agreed. Bei Licai was broad-minded and didn’t overthink things. After Zhao Zhilan finished pondering, she became optimistic too.
The term “koi” (lucky charm) didn’t exist yet this year. Ms. Zhao said: “Honey, don’t you think I’m especially lucky for my husband? Look at my luck—I can draw the grand prize in any lottery. Why don’t we start buying lottery tickets tomorrow? What if we win millions? Then our Yao Yao would have both a house and a car.”
Bei Licai: “…”
Bei Licai took a breath: “Zhilan, save your good fortune for our daughter, let her have a smooth life ahead. Let’s not do lottery drawings and ticket buying, okay?”
At the mention of Bei Yao, Zhao Zhilan immediately backed down: “Right, right, save it for Yao Yao. So our company has such good benefits—why don’t you come work at my company too?”
Bei Licai, who had no benefits… pulled the covers over his head and went to sleep.
Although Zhao Zhilan was usually frugal, she wasn’t stingy with her children. She immediately transferred a sum of money to Bei Yao’s card, and worried her daughter wouldn’t be willing to spend it, she personally bought quite a few clothes and mailed them all over.
This year, Ms. Zhao still didn’t know how to shop online. She could only pack up the clothes, and inside she included a letter written by little Bei Jun in pinyin and Chinese characters for Bei Yao, mailing everything together.
Bei Yao received the beautiful new clothes a few days later and heard from Zhao Zhilan about the lottery prize.
She felt something was off. Summer camp vouchers, Olympic tickets, and now straight-up 120,000 yuan in cash?
This pattern was quite familiar. Bei Yao instinctively thought of her boyfriend in prison.
But it shouldn’t be him. After all, back then Pei Chuan’s house had been seized, and he couldn’t keep anything. That summer she’d gone to his apartment several times but never managed to wait for him to return.
He should have no money left. The diamond in her hand and that card from Chen Hu should be his last remaining funds. Besides, Pei Chuan was still locked up in prison.
So then… was it that her mother Ms. Zhao’s luck was really just that good?
She opened the letter her younger brother had written. Little Bei Jun’s handwriting was especially large, basically saying he missed his sister and wanted her to come home soon.
Her heart felt exceptionally warm.
Shan Xiaomai looked at Bei Yao with envy. She also had a younger brother, but at home, her brother always had the highest status. When she was little, whenever her brother cried, Mom would hit her. Growing up, no matter what excessive demands her brother made, Mom would satisfy them.
Sometimes Shan Xiaomai felt she was superfluous, like her brother’s servant. Ever since he was born, her entire life had been ruined. Even working hard to get into university, she had to study medicine because her brother wasn’t in good health.
She got queasy at the sight of blood, was timid, and didn’t want to study medicine at all.
Wang Qiankun patted Shan Xiaomai’s shoulder, laughing: “Xiaomai, don’t be envious. All of us will always be your sisters!”
Shan Xiaomai was somewhat moved and nodded vigorously.
~
In the summer of 2012, Bei Yao and the others were already in the first semester of their junior year.
Every major in university inevitably had to study Marxism-Leninism. The teacher who taught Bei Yao and her classmates Marxism-Leninism especially loved discussing life philosophy.
The teacher wrote two words on the blackboard: “Career,” “Future.”
Employment discussions shouldn’t really fall to him to talk about, but teachers who taught these courses tended to be quite emotional. He gave an example of a world-class tycoon’s rise to wealth, reading this remarkable person’s background: “This great gentleman dropped out after completing his sophomore year, founded Microsoft and became the world’s richest person. His path to success seems full of legend to us. He possessed a brilliant mind and the most advanced programming skills of that era. The BASIC compiler he wrote was especially powerful. Moreover, he often served as a human IDE, rapidly delivering code with extremely high completion rates.” [Note: Citation]
The teacher sighed: “Some industries are truly amazing. A brilliant mind and advanced technology not only drive progress in the times and create the lives we have today, but the person himself also became the world’s richest man.”
A student below said with a grin: “Teacher, we’re from the School of Medicine! Not the School of Computer Science.”
The teacher was stunned for half a beat: “Oh, oh, you’re from the School of Medicine.”
This was awkward. Every major had to take Marxism-Leninism—he’d looked at the course schedule wrong.
The teacher hurried to salvage the situation: “Medicine is even greater—healing the sick and saving lives is an industry that will never fade or become outdated no matter the era.”
A student muttered: “But it’s tiring and pays poorly.”
This little incident started a discussion below. Qin Dongni clicked her tongue: “People who can write program code are really impressive. I saw in the news a few years ago that a good program can sell for millions or tens of millions. Really quite impressive, mind-blowingly so. Look at our major—it’s exhausting. You can work yourself to death your whole life and not earn as much as someone makes from selling one program.”
Qin Dongni said this, but Wang Qiankun didn’t care: “Anyway, I just love studying. Seeing them rescued under my scalpel, I feel especially fulfilled.”
Shan Xiaomai was gloomy and unhappy. She didn’t like this major! She thought being a data clerk would be pretty good.
Qin Dongni asked: “Yao Yao, what do you think?”
Everyone looked at Bei Yao. After all, everyone in their dorm knew about Yao Yao’s situation.
A boyfriend… still in prison. When he got out, he’d probably be an unemployed person in society. Studying medicine was so hard and difficult to get rich from. Would Yao Yao end up supporting that “unemployed youth” in the future?
Bei Yao was a bit confused: “What do I think?”
“Medicine is slow to make money, and it’s hard work.”
Bei Yao said: “I know, but it’s also very stable.”
Doctors and teachers never lose their jobs.
Bei Yao smiled: “I agree with Qiankun. Saving people is also very good, life is very fulfilling. Besides, the Dr. Yu you mentioned earlier is also very accomplished. No matter what industry, there are always top talents. I think this major is quite good.”
Qin Dongni deflated.
~
Their major was a five-year program. Having walked to the third year, they’d also completed half.
Summer was especially hot. Among the new clothes Zhao Zhilan had sent before, there was a pair of denim shorts that came to her thighs. When Bei Yao wore these pants, she didn’t think much of it, but after she appeared, the entire classroom became somewhat restless.
Campus beauty Bei’s legs were especially beautiful.
How to describe them? Long and straight, well-proportioned flesh and bone, and incredibly fair.
When Wang Qiankun saw them, she exclaimed and wanted nothing more than to touch them.
This summer was especially sultry. When Bei Yao sat down, countless people were still staring at her in a daze.
Wang Qiankun said: “Yao, let’s discuss something—let me touch them once.”
After she finished speaking, she gave them a good feel. Wow, soft and tender, the sensation was amazing. Wang Qiankun patted her own solid, thick legs, questioning her existence.
Bei Yao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, feeling quite shy.
Bei Yao’s old clothes were more conservative. After all, in their era, Bei Yao had worn corduroy pants as a child. Suddenly switching to shorts, not to mention the boys in class—even several nearby girls became restless.
After Wang Qiankun finished touching, Qin Dongni insisted on touching too. Shan Xiaomai looked on with envy—well, she didn’t dare touch.
The girls played around, and Qin Dongni whispered: “Hey, Yao Yao, that boyfriend of yours we’ve never seen must love you to death.” Qin Dongni thought to herself, she wasn’t even as pretty as Yao Yao, yet her boyfriend especially loved hugging and kissing her. How “fortunate” Bei Yao’s boyfriend must be.
Bei Yao’s face turned completely red. She blocked her face with a book, resigned to her fate: “We’re in class, be serious.”
Qin Dongni couldn’t stop laughing: “You’re so shy, he definitely not only hasn’t touched them, he hasn’t even seen them. Next time you see him, wear this, yeah?”
Bei Yao said nothing, her ear tips somewhat red.
After all this time, the dorm roommates had gradually accepted that Bei Yao had a boyfriend still “serving time.” Honestly, they were a bit curious. Was he devastatingly handsome, or did he have outstanding qualities in other areas?
Bei Yao could only see him once per quarter. After the roommates finished horsing around, they actually felt sorry for her and stopped saying things about them breaking up.
After all, encountering love wasn’t easy, and holding onto love was even harder.
This “prison visit” was scheduled for early September, when summer clothes could still be worn.
Bei Yao was very hesitant. She put on long pants, then changed into the super short shorts, then changed back to long pants… Okay, in the end she still changed to the super short shorts.
Seeing Pei Chuan once was too difficult for her. Like Qin Dongni said, girls all liked dressing this way—Pei Chuan would also, also like it, right?
When she left, the weather was exceptionally clear. Pei Chuan didn’t want anything she brought him, so Bei Yao simply didn’t force it—just going to see him was good enough.
Chu Xun no longer came to pester her. Most men were gentlemanly and wouldn’t pursue someone forcefully and unreasonably like Chu Xun.
She walked to the maple grove on campus and saw two people approaching while chatting and laughing.
The young man among them stood ramrod straight, and many girls around were secretly looking at him.
Bei Yao frowned, feeling this person was somewhat like a lingering ghost. She didn’t want any conflict and planned to take a side path to avoid them.
When Huo Xu saw her, he was momentarily stunned. His gaze fell on her face in a daze. With a man’s instinct, he inadvertently glanced at those straight, beautiful legs. He looked away, feeling somewhat flustered.
The first time he’d seen her, she was sixteen years old. When she looked up from under the umbrella, she was already especially beautiful.
Bei Yao directly left via the small path, as if she didn’t remember at all that this person had helped her by blocking Chu Xun last time.
Her attitude of disgust and unwillingness to interact was overly obvious. Not to mention the person involved, Huo Xu—even the school director conversing with Huo Xu noticed this pretty girl was deliberately walking around to avoid them.
Huo Xu stared blankly at her departing figure, feeling inexplicably disappointed, not understanding how this girl had come to dislike him.
~
This time Bei Yao came to the “Seventh Prison” alone.
Usually at this hour it was the Seventh Prison’s “outdoor recreation time.” Bei Yao came every time, so the guards recognized her.
A guard went over to notify: “Pei Chuan, someone’s here for you.”
Everyone exchanged knowing looks, then watched this aloof youth calmly wash his hands and push his wheelchair out.
Cheng Zhenghai said: “Pei Chuan, your collar isn’t flipped out.”
Pei Chuan couldn’t help but look down at his collar—it was perfectly neat.
Everyone almost died laughing.
At such a young age, why be so serious and stiff? More proper than this group of “old-timers.” Only at times like this did this young man have a bit of human warmth. Remembering that lip print from before, they patted Pei Chuan’s shoulder: “Go on, go on. We know you’re eager. Your image is quite handsome.”
Every time before she came, Pei Chuan would apply to have his haircut scheduled at a different time.
He knew how wretched he was now, but… being able to appear a bit better in front of her was always good.