Chen Mengyao had been playing with her phone at the board game bar for an hour and was getting annoyed.

She’d spent the entire summer vacation at art exam prep classes in Dongzhou. If her mother found out she’d skipped two days of classes, who knew how she’d mock her for wasting money and lacking ambition—and all just to sit here being ignored?

Zhou Yingxiang had gone to such lengths to reimburse her travel expenses and eagerly invited her, then half an hour ago told her to wait five minutes. Had his sense of time expanded, or had his ego expanded, keeping her waiting like this?

Just as Chen Mengyao picked up her bag to leave, the private room door was pushed open and a group of boys noisily entered.

“Hey, beautiful! Long time no see! It’s harder to see you than a celebrity!” Wu Pengcheng was the first to greet her.

A woman’s intuition is always accurate, especially regarding “who likes you, who hates you”—particularly sensitive in this matter.

She could tell Wu Pengcheng didn’t get along with her, so she replied with a superficial smile: “Indeed.”

Zhou Yingxiang tried to mediate, “Everyone sits down. Boss, bring some food and drinks first?”

“No problem!”

Everyone sat down, naturally giving the birthday boy the main seat. Chen Mengyao sat next to Zhang Shu, and they naturally made eye contact as she greeted him: “A-Shu, it’s your birthday today? Happy birthday.”

It should have been a romantic, intimate moment that deserved some teasing, but because of what Zhang Shu had said on the way, no one initiated it, leaving the room momentarily silent.

Zhang Shu lazily leaned back in his chair, expression bland: “Whether it’s happy or not mainly depends on how much money I can win tonight.”

Completely irrelevant.

Chen Mengyao felt somewhat embarrassed.

With so many people present, Zhang Shu seemed rather cold today.

Her feelings toward Zhang Shu were complicated. She knew she liked him, but she could never be with him.

Zhang Shu couldn’t afford to support her, nor would he try his best to empty his pockets to support her.

She just wanted to keep Zhang Shu on the hook, neither swallowing nor willing to let go. If he dated someone else, she’d be furious.

At this point, she felt she and Zhang Shu had reached an unspoken understanding—

Zhang Shu liked her too but didn’t want to be with her. Because he knew what she needed, and he couldn’t provide it. Being such a proud person, once he started self-reflecting, his entire demeanor would fluctuate between hot and cold.

Today he must have been triggered by something sensitive again.

She couldn’t be bothered to comfort him either. Men were just despicable—the more you comfort them, the more arrogant they become. Leave them alone and they’ll get better on their own.

Zhou Yingxiang was a perfect counter-example—sucking up for so many years, had Zhang Shu ever truly respected him?

Chen Mengyao understood people like Zhou Yingxiang well. After suddenly becoming rich, they needed validation. He just felt being close to Zhang Shu gave him face.

It had been like this since middle school.

Some people are naturally cherished by others. In a group, everyone just wants to listen to them. This kind of natural leadership can’t be explained—Zhang Shu must have been the king of kids since childhood.

The middle school Zhang Shu was a bit more flamboyant than now, always surrounded by groups of people wherever he appeared. He was good-looking, tall, and though dressed ordinarily, carried himself with dignity, looking very unlike someone from their town.

Chen Mengyao was also often told she “didn’t look like someone from this town.” To some extent, they were alike—they were the same type: people destined not to be buried in obscurity.

So even though they weren’t in the same class, Chen Mengyao knew about Zhang Shu early on, though they’d never really interacted.

She was quite surprised when she heard Zhang Shu got into Affiliated High School; he looked like he was just killing time, and nothing about him suggested he was studious.

One evening during military training in their first year, she was holding a guitar and sang a folk song at the bonfire party. Countless eyes were fixed on her, including Zhang Shu’s. After the gathering, she met him under a tree on the field.

She still remembers his first words.

“Chen Mengyao? Could you sing for me again?”

What, was she a street performer?

If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have even bothered glancing at them.

But just the way he called her name so naturally—surely he must have known about her for a while too?

As if possessed, she asked: “What should I sing?”

“The same song as just now, sing it once more.”

That old song was so outdated, that few people had heard it, but she loved it, so it felt like a spiritual resonance.

His approach was very clever.

So much smarter than those who just asked for her number straight away.

Zhang Shu’s most obvious charm was his intelligence.

Right now he had drawn the Emperor card, his hand was terrible, and he was being severely suppressed at the start, but he wasn’t anxious, just waiting for the right moment to dominate later.

It had to be said that in situations like this, Zhang Shu’s eyes—seemingly lazy but shrewd and sharp—were truly captivating.

He didn’t smoke, just sucked on a lollipop, yet had more presence and authority than those blowing smoke clouds.

Sometimes Chen Mengyao wanted to throw caution to the wind and date him.

…

“A-Shu, I see you received quite a few gifts this year. What did you get? Let your brothers envy you a bit?” Hou Junqi teased during a break in the card game.

Zhang Shu threw down a set of cards, casually answering: “Haven’t looked at them.”

Zhou Yingxiang asked: “Really? How many?”

Hou Junqi said: “Several in the morning, several in the afternoon, and several more in the evening. You’ve been receiving them for two days now—must be more than ten? Especially many this year, eh A-Shu?”

Zhang Shu shrugged, also finding it puzzling. In previous years he’d get two or three, nothing like this year’s exaggeration.

After all, thanks to the lady beside him, his image was that of a lovesick fool pursuing the school’s beauty.

Wu Pengcheng said: “It’s because you ranked first in the joint exam. Now it’s not just our school—what senior high school girl doesn’t know about you? Even vocational school students are your fans.”

“Really?” Liu Hui’an teased with a grin, “Is being good at exams that attractive?”

“Well, we should ask a girl about that,” Zhou Yingxiang had invited her, so he had to look after her, “Mengyao, what do you think?”

Chen Mengyao gathered her cards, speaking slowly: “Being good at exams only gives +110 charm, a handsome guy who’s good at exams gets +10010, and if the handsome guy isn’t just good at exams, that’s +10086.”

“Hahahahahahaha!”

“Awesome!”

“You girls know how to calculate.”

The room burst into laughter, the atmosphere gradually becoming harmonious.

Even Zhang Shu, who had maintained a blank expression, tugged at the corner of his mouth while sucking his lollipop.

Chen Mengyao never lost her composure in social situations. She knew how to turn from guest to host and attract everyone’s attention.

After a while, when the cards had been shuffled several rounds and the topic had passed, Wu Pengcheng suddenly asked: “What about you, beautiful? What did you give him? Did you come empty-handed?”

Chen Mengyao almost wanted to kick his chair, but showed no anger on her face, lazily resting her chin on her hand: “Isn’t my presence enough? If I gave anything else, wouldn’t that be too forward?”

She hadn’t planned to give anything anyway. How could she be like those girls who secretly admired him? She wasn’t that eager.

After speaking, she discreetly observed Zhang Shu.

He was focused on his cards, teeth crunching the lollipop with a “crack,” mumbling “Going all in!” as he threw down all his cards. His freed hand pulled out the lollipop stick, and leaning back in his chair, his long arm casually tossed it, accurately landing in the distant trash can.

The series of movements flowed smoothly, his gaze never wavering.

He won again.

The losers wailed in unison, instantly drowning out Chen Mengyao’s words.

“I’m done,” Zhang Shu stood up, pulling out chips from under the table to count, “Let’s call it a day.”

Zhou Yingxiang hurriedly tried to stop him: “No, A-Shu, it’s only been two hours, it’s still early?”

Zhang Shu held up his palm toward Zhou Yingxiang, gesturing him to be quiet while continuing to count his chips. After counting, he tossed them on the table, “43 pieces, calculate it yourselves, transfer what you owe to my Alipay.”

“That’s fine, but let’s play a bit more.” Han Xiao was still eager.

“Yeah, it’s rare for us to get together.”

Zhang Shu said: “No more playing, my sister texted saying she’s waiting for me at home.”

Hearing this, Hou Junqi realized A-Shu and his sister’s relationship was thawing, and quickly agreed: “Then you should head back, this is important.”

Zhou Yingxiang stopped insisting and called the owner to bring out the prepared cake.

Although Zhang Shu could be sharp-tongued, he rarely substantially rejected people’s goodwill. Since he was already here, he could spare a few more minutes.

Zhou Yingxiang was good at creating an atmosphere. After lighting the candles and dimming the lights, he pushed Chen Mengyao forward, “Start us off, superstar.”

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

Chen Mengyao was strikingly beautiful, with a mature speaking voice. When singing, she had a hint of smoky vocals, very world-weary, suitable for folk songs.

The birthday song from her lips lost its light cheerfulness, gaining romantic intimacy, and creating an immersive story-like feeling.

So no one joined in to disrupt the atmosphere; everyone just clapped softly, watching her sing.

In the flickering candlelight, Zhang Shu’s gaze gradually became focused and profound, just like that night during military training.

Chen Mengyao almost didn’t want to end the song.

“Happy birthday to you…”

As the song ended, she once again blessed the young man: “Happy birthday, A-Shu.”

“Make a wish, make a wish!” Hou Junqi reminded me.

Zhang Shu didn’t press his hands together, didn’t close his eyes, and didn’t keep his wish secret. With his usual casualness, he said “Then I wish this year passes quickly so I can come of age,” before leaning forward to blow out the candles.

“Happy birthday!” Everyone cheered and applauded.

The lights brightened, and everyone shared the sweet cake.

Zhang Shu only took two perfunctory bites before grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, “Thanks for tonight, let’s all head back.”

Zhou Yingxiang quickly said: “Let’s meet up again sometime.”

“We’ll see,” Zhang Shu was noncommittal, then turned to ask Chen Mengyao: “How did you get here?”

Chen Mengyao spread her hands: “Zhou Yingxiang picked me up.”

Zhang Shu instructed Zhou Yingxiang: “You invited her, you take her back.”

“Of course, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Zhou Yingxiang replied.

Zhang Shu said: “Let’s disperse, I’m leaving.”

“Happy birthday, A-Shu!”

“Happy birthday!” Several people called out to Zhang Shu’s back.

Zhang Shu didn’t turn around, just raised his hand in a wave.

The lights stretched the seventeen-year-old boy’s shadow very long.

…

Only after leaving did Zhang Shu remember his bike was parked in the teaching building’s bike shed, but he couldn’t be bothered to go back for it and walked home instead.

The house in Wenbo Garden was rented by Zhang Sujin. The school district houses here were frighteningly expensive—selling food for a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to buy one.

Even the rent wasn’t cheap.

His sister was working hard for his education.

The lights were on inside, and Zhang Shu called out: “Sis!”

Zhang Sujin came out of the kitchen carrying a small cake. After their argument, they hadn’t seen each other for days, and now both felt a bit awkward.

“Can’t you smile on your birthday?” Zhang Sujin put the cake on the coffee table and patted Zhang Shu’s bottom.

Zhang Shu rubbed his behind: “How old am I that you’re still spanking me! I think it’s not that you don’t want to get married, it’s that no one will marry you!”

Said in a joking tone, this was Zhang Shu’s compromise.

Zhang Sujin understood and sighed: “Right! You’re correct, isn’t it just that no one will marry me? When have I ever not wanted to get married?”

“Since no one wants you, I’ll just have to persist a bit longer and take care of you for another year,” Zhang Shu spoke sarcastically, “I’m seventeen today, which means I’m eighteen by traditional counting. Tomorrow at this time I’ll be an adult. If you still can’t get married by then, I won’t want you anymore.”

He would be an adult next year, no longer anyone’s burden.

She could marry without worry then.

Zhang Sujin stared at Zhang Shu with a smile, her still-young face wearing eyes of motherly love that didn’t match her age, “Alright, I’ll get married when you turn eighteen.”

Zhang Shu: “Then you can start dating now.”

Zhang Sujin said: “Okay.”

Zhang Shu said: “You’re a puppy if you go back on your word!”

Zhang Sujin nodded: “I’m a puppy!”

“Sis, sing me a happy birthday song?”

Zhang Sujin’s smile faded, and she refused: “No.”

“But you texted me to come back—just one line?” Zhang Shu pressed his hands together, begging like a puppy, “Just one line!”

Zhang Sujin insisted: “No!”

Zhang Shu gave up.

Over all these years, he had only heard Zhang Sujin sing in videos, with a guitar hanging at her chest, delicate fingers holding the microphone, her voice enchanting, and eyes full of charm when she looked up.

That was the real Zhang Sujin, that was the life the beautiful Zhang Sujin should have had.

He finished the small cake, and then asked: “What’s for lunch tomorrow? Are there Cola chicken wings?”

Zhang Sujin was cleaning up the cake box and wiping the coffee table. Smiling where Zhang Shu couldn’t see, she spoke in a harsh tone: “No choosing, eat whatever there is.”

Zhang Shu: “Hehe.”

Who knew who she was waiting for by making his favorite Cola chicken wings every day? If he didn’t go, others would get sick of eating them, and the lunch boarding would go bankrupt.