The next morning.

Bai Yang yawned and slumped lazily over his desk. Lately, he’d been focusing all his energy on the radio, turning on the IC-725 after evening self-study to chat with BG4MSR and discuss time-slow-delivery and future-reversal methods with his dad and Uncle Wang. He stayed up late every night, yet still had to go to school the next day.

So he slept at school in the mornings, and every time a teacher passed by his seat, they would tap his shoulder with their textbook.

One tap would wake Bai Yang up, and over time, he developed a conditioned reflex, evolving a teacher detection system that tracked using acoustic radar and built a behavioral model of teachers in his mind. When he detected a teacher about to pass by, he’d suddenly sit up straight, then doze off again after they passed.

So during class, he was always in this state:

Left side, acoustic radar tracking is normal! The telemetry signal is normal! Teacher movement is normal!

Right side, acoustic radar detected the target!

The telemetry signal is normal! Teacher movement is normal!

Teacher stage one separation!

Teacher fairing jettison!

Teacher solar panels deployed!

Thunderous applause breaks out—usually by this point it meant Bai Yang was too deep in sleep and dreaming.

This system worked sometimes and failed others. When extremely tired, his brain wouldn’t respond to radar warnings, and he was repeatedly captured by his homeroom teacher. During breaks, Teacher Liu would call Bai Yang to the office and say, “What’s going on with you, Bai Yang? Why are you always sleeping in class lately? You haven’t been staying up late reading novels or playing games, have you?”

Bai Yang: “No, teacher, don’t worry, I haven’t—aah—hmm—” (yawning)

The teacher, frustrated at being unable to forge iron into steel, sternly rapped her knuckles on the desk, indicating that if he kept sleeping like this, he’d slide from NUAA to NCHU.

From Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics to Nanchang Hangkong University.

Well, Nanchang Hangkong is fine, Bai Yang thought to himself. What’s wrong with Nanchang Hangkong? Isn’t it still an aviation university?

He was too exhausted.

“Little White Sheep! Little White Sheep!” Someone nudged Bai Yang.

Bai Yang was lying on his desk sleeping, and without lifting his head, he knew who was bothering him. He pushed away the hand on his shoulder, “Can’t you let someone sleep in peace? Young Master, I’m tired here.”

“Got something to eat, want some?”

“No,” said Bai Yang.

A few seconds later, crisp chewing sounds rang out beside his ear. He Leqin, that dog, really hadn’t saved any for him and was eating it himself, chewing louder and louder.

This bastard just wouldn’t let him sleep peacefully.

“You’ve been sleeping more than me lately. Did you know people in class are calling you the Sleep Tyrant?” He Leqin said. “After all, not everyone can sleep leaning back in their chair, face to the sky, mouth wide open.”

“Get lost!”

Bai Yang didn’t want to remember those socially mortifying moments.

In chemistry class, leaning back in his chair, face toward the ceiling, drooling at the corners of his mouth, sleeping posture like someone poisoned to death in a martial arts drama.

The chemistry teacher called it the celestial dog swallowing the moon.

“You don’t understand anything, I’m busy every night.”

“Busy with what?”

“Busy saving the world,” Bai Yang said. “The lives of billions rest on my shoulders. Think about how much pressure that is—how could I sleep well at night?”

Normal classes during the day, saving the world at night.

This setup would have any chuunibyou youth trembling with excitement—how cool, how stylish! You walk among ordinary people, yet you’re different. You’d have to use an 8848 phone; anything else wouldn’t match your status.

But why wasn’t Bai Yang excited at all?

He’d read so many novels, and manga, and watched so many TV shows. Shouldn’t the normal development be: the male protagonist, the only one who knows the truth, sits alone at the window seat in the back of the classroom, looking at classmates still worried about their grades, at teachers still preparing lessons, at the masses who know nothing, a slight smile of mockery and resignation on his lips, turning to gaze at the lush green leaves outside, eyes distant, his silhouette profound—

Why didn’t he get that kind of script?

Was the Chinese version of high school students saving the world different from the Japanese version?

“Damn, so you’re Underwear Man who goes out at night to fight crime?” He Leqin slapped Bai Yang’s back hard.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m Underwear Man who goes out at night to fight crime,” Bai Yang nodded. “Next time you see news about a weirdo wearing underwear on his head who bravely catches pickpockets, outsmarts thieves, fights robbers bare-handed, and even dares to help fallen elderly people, that’ll be me.”

“What Underwear Man?” Suddenly a girl’s clear voice came as she poked her head over.

It was Yan Zhihan.

“Not suitable for minors, not suitable for minors.” He Leqin pressed her forehead, pushing her back. “Topic not suitable for minors!”

“I’m here to collect homework!” Yan Zhihan broke free. “Little White Sheep hasn’t turned in his homework yet, Golden Test Paper Set 45!”

Bai Yang pulled the test paper from his backpack, glanced at it, and his heart sank.

Damn, he’d forgotten to do it.

He’d done half of this paper during evening self-study yesterday but completely forgot about it after getting home.

His hand pulling out the paper stopped halfway and pushed it back in.

“What’s wrong?” Yan Zhihan asked.

“Brother Yan, Brother Yan, do me a favor,” Bai Yang lowered his voice. “Just say I didn’t bring it.”

The girl’s mouth opened in surprise. “No way? You forgot to do it?”

Bai Yang nodded.

“You didn’t do any of it?”

“Still have one side left, haven’t done the major problems.”

Yan Zhihan thought for a moment. “Wait a bit.”

She quickly ran back to her seat, pulled out a paper from the stack under her desk, then ran back and stuffed it under Bai Yang’s desk.

“Hey hey hey hey Brother Yan! How can you show such favoritism?” He Leqin, who witnessed this criminal transaction, protested indignantly. “When I didn’t finish, you were strictly impartial, but when Little White Sheep doesn’t finish, you make an exception? You even let him copy—how can you do this!”

“How can you two be compared?” Yan Zhihan rolled her eyes. “You’re a habitual offender—enabling you would only make you more arrogant. Little White Sheep is a first-time offender, he can be given a chance.”

“You’re just showing favoritism.”

“I am not!”

“The love you give me isn’t as much as you give Little White Sheep,” He Leqin said. “My heart is broken.”

“Go die!”

Bai Yang quickly copied the answers, thinking there probably wasn’t another protagonist in the world like him who, despite bearing the responsibility of saving humanity, was hunched over his desk early in the morning completing math homework.

But wasn’t this such a precious life? The noisy students, the laughing and joking Young Master He and Brother Yan, and the clean, transparent morning light sneaking in through the door crack, falling on the teaching platform. Bai Yang wondered, if doomsday came years later when he recalled these diamond-like clear and brilliant days, would it feel like a different lifetime?

He Leqin was still the same He Leqin, Yan Zhihan was still the same Yan Zhihan, everyone was still the same everyone, but Bai Yang was no longer the past Bai Yang. He knew this quiet and peaceful life was merely the afterglow remaining in the sky after sunset. No one knew how long it would last, no one knew when that endless night would fall. After the sunset, it would not rise again. Knowing the truth was painful—the pain came when you realized you should cherish that light, but it was already too late.

Bai Yang quickly finished copying the math test paper and handed both papers to Yan Zhihan.

Then he put away his pen, sat up straight, and looked around like nothing had happened. He felt a bit guilty because copying homework was immoral behavior. Bai Yang’s moral standards were higher than He Leqin’s—Young Master He could copy homework for all six subjects without batting an eye, it’s just that no one would let him copy.

“Next time you save the world, take me with you,” He Leqin put his arm around Bai Yang’s shoulders. “I’ll be your partner.”

“What? You want to be an Underwear Man too?” Bai Yang side-eyed him.

“I’ll be G-string Man!” He Leqin said. “Better field of vision that way!”

The class bell rang.

The first-morning class was English.

After English was Chemistry.

After Chemistry was dismissed.

That was Bai Yang’s direct perception of the morning’s classes.

Although every second of precious normal life that passed was one less second remaining, Bai Yang truly couldn’t focus his energy on textbooks and exercises. Every second, a voice echoed in his mind saying that studying in class was meaningless, everyone present would die, and everything they did was meaningless. At such times, Bai Yang wanted to stand up and shout for everyone to stop having class, doomsday was coming! Run for your lives!

He also realized that those world-saving high school students showing off in novels and anime were fake—chuunibyou youth’s fantasies couldn’t be trusted. As the only person who knew the truth, that person’s mood must be heavy, painful, and tormented. When the real world faced a massive crisis, no matter what needed to be done, showing off would be the last priority.

After school, He Leqin and Yan Zhihan invited him to lunch.

The three chatted casually while walking along Houbiao Camp Road out of the old city.

The street was bustling with traffic. There was no sun today, but the city remained prosperous under the gloomy clouds. As they walked, Bai Yang looked up to see the tall, majestic gray city wall of Biao Camp Gate standing before them.

Three wide archways could accommodate eight lanes of traffic.

A long line approached from the opposite direction on the pedestrian path under the city gate—probably a tour group. There were people of all ages, dressed in various colors. The leader wore a bright yellow hat, holding a small flag in one hand and a small megaphone in the other. They squeezed past noisily and chattering, meeting the three head-on under the city gate. Bai Yang’s group had to press themselves against the wall to let the large group pass first.

Bai Yang leaned against the cold, hard inner wall of the city gate, the gray-black bricks rough to the touch. As he watched this large group of tourists pass by, he suddenly wondered if twenty years later, would that girl BG4MSR also pass under this gate.

As he touched the bricks while passing through the crowd, would that girl touch the same spot?

Bai Yang unconsciously turned to look at his hand. He seemed to see a slender hand overlapping with it—two people passing through the same space at different times, like passing through souls, passing through air. Bai Yang suddenly shuddered.

He whirled around.

“What’s wrong?” He Leqin and Yan Zhihan, walking ahead, stopped and asked.

“Little White Sheep?”

The tour group had already gone far, and Bai Yang stared blankly at their backs, his gaze searching.

Whether it was an illusion or not, in that instant, was there a tall young girl with a ponytail, humming a song, wearing a white shirt and long jeans, carrying a bulging backpack, who brushed past the edge of his clothes?