Before being jolted awake by the thunderous alarm tone of “Good Luck Is Coming,” Ning Sui’s dream had been impossibly sweet — she was eating at Fatty Brothers’ Crab Pot with her best friend Hu Ke’er, a whole basin of bullfrog and chicken feet, gnawing away with gleeful abandon. Even though the server had warned that this particular dish had a way of making you gain double the weight, the two of them had hurled themselves at it like famished wolves without a moment’s hesitation…
The dream was so vividly satisfying that Ning Sui stared at her bedroom’s snow-white ceiling for a good few seconds before gradually remembering what day it was today.
Accompanying the alarm was the sound of her mother, Xia Fanghui, pounding on the door outside and hollering at the top of her lungs: “Hurry up and get out of bed! If you don’t leave now, you’re going to be late for your graduation ceremony!”
Ning Sui glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, and the ceremony didn’t start until nine.
Fanghui had the kind of personality that startled easily, always needing to get a head start on everything. Whenever she took a flight, she’d set out fully dressed four hours in advance. On road trips, she’d already be planning that evening’s dinner the moment she woke up in the morning. Running a few seconds late to meet someone would leave her feeling unsettled for days. Unfortunately, in this particular respect, Ning Sui hadn’t inherited a single strand of her mother’s genes.
“Make sure your ponytail is high — it looks more put-together that way. Pin those loose strands up too. Oh right, that pink hair tie I bought you last time looks really nice — use that one…”
The nagging from outside continued without pause. Ning Sui unhurriedly changed into her blue-and-white school uniform inside her room, casually tied up her hair, and gathered the paper documents she needed into her schoolbag.
She pushed open the bedroom door and came face to face with Xia Fanghui, who had been drawing breath for a second round of calls. The two stared at each other for a moment. Xia Fanghui couldn’t help but huff: “At your pace, if everyone raced to get out of bed, you’d definitely finish last in your class — why is your hair still tied so low?”
“I’ll fix it in a bit.” Ning Sui answered naturally while heading into the bathroom to wash up, her words somewhat muffled. “Besides, it’s fine. The college entrance exam didn’t test how fast you get out of bed.”
“You child!”
The household was quite lively this morning — it wasn’t just the two of them bickering.
Hard to imagine, but Ning Yue, that little rascal, had apparently already started studying at this early hour, and by the sounds of it, had thoroughly infuriated Ning Deyan.
At that moment, Ning Deyan was reading Ning Yue’s prize-winning composition entitled My Father. From the study came the sound of their father straining to contain his fury: “You tell me — why did you write in your essay that your father seems gentle on the surface but actually has certain tendencies toward domestic violence behind closed doors?! Have I ever actually hit you in all these years, huh?!”
A few seconds passed, then Ning Yue’s childlike yet precociously composed voice rang out: “Dad, you know that kids in sixth grade are starting to develop more complex inner lives…”
Ning Deyan: “So?!”
Ning Yue: “All my classmates write over-the-top stuff to win awards — kids with dads who drink, dads who fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. If I don’t add some dramatic tension and conflict to my story, it’ll just come across as mediocre.”
Ning Deyan: “…”
The entire eight-hundred-word composition was pure fabrication, painting a vivid portrait of a poor child subjected to his father’s harsh treatment. He certainly wasn’t mediocre anymore — the teacher gave him a high score and, as a bonus, made a solemn “home visit” to speak with the parents. The subtext was unmistakable: Mr. Ning, whatever pressures you’re dealing with at work, please be patient with your child. If you really can’t control your violent impulses, perhaps consider a Pilates class.
The composition was later displayed as a model essay on the classroom bulletin board for all to see. Wave after wave of parents came to read it at every parent-teacher meeting. Ning Sui nearly died laughing in the bathroom — her father prized his reputation more than anything in the world, so this truly was a burden too heavy to bear.
On the joyous occasion of Ning Sui’s high school graduation ceremony, the family ate breakfast together in a remarkably cold and indifferent silence.
As Ning Sui was about to head out the door, the little troublemaker still had no idea what storm was brewing, and grinned cheerfully at her: “Have a safe trip, Sis.”
Ning Deyan had company matters to attend to, so Xia Fanghui drove Ning Sui to school. She flew through the streets at breakneck speed the entire way, terrified of being late. Today, Ning Sui would be delivering a speech at the graduation ceremony as a student representative, and Xia Fanghui had borrowed professional camera equipment especially for the occasion, intending to film the whole thing.
In the car, Xia Fanghui kept reminding her: “When you get to school, remember to thank Teacher Yu — did you hear me? He’s taught you so much over these past three years. After that whole competition incident, he didn’t hold it against you and kept encouraging you. I’m really grateful to him.”
Teacher Yu was Ning Sui’s mathematics teacher — an old fellow whose speech carried a slightly distinctive regional lilt, but who was exceptionally witty in class.
Throughout her three years of high school, Ning Sui had been channeling all her energy into the mathematics competition, originally aiming for the national training team.
After the provincial competition came the CMO national competition, where the top sixty finishers could receive guaranteed admission and choose freely between Tsinghua and Peking University. Xia Fanghui had supervised her under the strictest standards, their Olympic mathematics books worn and dog-eared from being leafed through so many times. But then Ning Sui performed poorly under the pressure during the exam, managing only a provincial first prize — she didn’t even make it to the CMO national competition.
“I know, Mom.” Ning Sui poked the back of her mother’s seat, dropping a hint of affectionate charm without making it too obvious. “Don’t look so stern — didn’t I turn things around with my own strength in the college entrance exam? I’d say I didn’t let Teacher Yu’s earnest guidance go to waste.”
At the mention of this, a trace of a smile surfaced in Xia Fanghui’s eyes.
685 points. Second in the entire school. Admitted to Peking University’s Department of Mathematics on raw scores alone — Ning Sui had genuinely delivered.
So this trip to school had Xia Fanghui feeling immensely proud. Just thinking about the gymnasium packed full of people, with her precious daughter up there delivering a speech, filled her with a swelling sense of pride.
Ning Deyan was dying of envy over this, but unfortunately his company was drowning him in back-to-back meetings. As nine o’clock approached and the venue filled with people, he sat on the other end of the phone stewing in jealousy, bitterly resentful about not being able to attend: “This is infuriating. That wretched boss of mine…”
—
After the graduation ceremony ended, the school buzzed with activity. The sports ground was full of students; basketballs slapped against the pavement with sharp, resonant thuds. The academic building was a constant stream of people — not only the beaming teachers, but also parents who had come to visit, arriving in a steady flow.
Outside the office doorway, discarded textbooks and exercise workbooks were piled in a scattered heap alongside old school desks, leaving barely any room to step. Even so, a ring of people had gathered in the corridor, all listening with great interest to the young man seated right in the middle as he told his story.
“Just after midnight, I got a phone call. It was Peking University. At first I thought it was a scam.”
“Oh please, don’t play the false modesty card when you’re the top scholar!” The onlookers clicked their tongues and jeered.
“Seriously. Then they said they wanted to meet in person. I hadn’t been that alert since my all-night gaming sessions. We arranged a meeting spot, and then the people actually dragged me into a dark little hotel room and locked me in. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, they wouldn’t let me leave — said I had to sign my major declaration first before I could go.”
“Then Tsinghua called me too. The Peking University admissions team was incredibly on edge — they absolutely refused to let me answer. I was just about ready to sign, when Tsinghua called again. And this time, can you guess what they did?”
“What?”
“The person on the line from Tsinghua was a female senior student, pretending to be Ning Sui calling to find me.” The speaker was practically beside himself with delight. “The Peking University admissions team thought they could get a buy-one-get-one deal, so they let me go downstairs to bring her up — but the Tsinghua people grabbed me and bundled me into their car, and floored it out of there!”
The crowd absolutely erupted: “No way, hahahaha! That’s pure genius, oh my god!”
The person telling this story with such vivid flair was Wen Siyuan — the one who ranked above Ning Sui, taking first place in the entire school.
Huai’an was a first-tier city, and their No. 4 High School was undeniably one of the top three middle schools in the city. The only thing was that the school ordinarily focused on the college entrance exam rather than competition pathways, and couldn’t match Huai’an Huahua High School with its many competition-track guaranteed admissions. This time, Wen Siyuan had represented the honor of No. 4 High School by breaking into the top ten in the entire province and earning the title of “top scholar.”
In previous years, every individual ranking would be publicly announced, but later the Education Bureau decided that this kind of exposure was harmful to students, so they decreed that the provincial top ten would all be collectively called “top scholars,” with no distinction of ranking order.
Some people are just that fortunate. Wen Siyuan’s estimated score had likely landed just barely within the top ten.
Ning Sui was among the crowd listening to the story. She hadn’t known that this tale also had something to do with herself, so she laughed right along with everyone else.
Ning Sui’s grades were exceptional, and when she smiled, she had the kind of sweetness that teachers adored — yet somehow she also got along perfectly well with the students who never followed the rules.
As her mathematics teacher Yu Zhiguo put it, this girl had her own way of navigating the world. On the surface she seemed unhurried and mild-mannered, but she was remarkably perceptive beneath that. She was neither excessively warm nor excessively distant, which meant she could find common ground with just about anyone.
Among the group, quite a few people were on good terms with her.
The conversation drifted around and eventually landed on Ning Sui: “So our goddess Suisui is still planning to continue studying mathematics?”
Ning Sui curved her lips and gave a soft sound of agreement. Her gentle profile, bathed in the warm, dappled sunlight, appeared luminously clear and fair. At this moment, mathematics teacher Yu Zhiguo happened to walk by, and she teased: “Can’t help it — can’t forget about Che-bi-shef.”
The Chebyshev inequality — she had imitated Yu Zhiguo’s regional accent so perfectly that everyone was in stitches. Yu Zhiguo pretended to swat at her but couldn’t keep a straight face himself, cracking with a helpless laugh: “This child. Simply no respect for her elders.”
Once the teacher arrived, everyone spoke up at once, scrambling to get a word in — far more enthusiastic than they’d ever been in any regular class.
Ning Sui had already had a long heart-to-heart with the old fellow in the office earlier. Yu Zhiguo had praised her morning speech as poised and composed. Now she sat back contentedly, listening to the chatter flowing back and forth around her.
“Teacher Yu, you haven’t forgotten that I’m your all-time favorite student, have you?”
“Teacher Yu, if any first-years next semester haven’t taught themselves the entire high school mathematics curriculum by the start of term, please don’t go easy on them!”
Before long, Yu Zhiguo was simply overwhelmed, laughing as he waved them off with a sigh: “All right, all right, I’m going!”
The faint undercurrent of melancholy was scattered by the classmates’ deliberate teasing. In the future they would each set out on their own winding paths, and perhaps would never see each other again. They were dimly aware of this truth somewhere in their hearts, yet tried their best not to dwell on it.
It was already three or four in the afternoon. Without realizing it, they had been talking for so long, yet no one felt they had talked enough. They kept clustering together, swapping gossip.
“This year was brutal — I heard the admissions teams would stop at nothing to lock in top students.”
Someone lowered their voice, excitedly sharing a piece of insider news they’d heard: “You all know about the provincial top scholar, right? The real deal — number one, 721 points, nearly full marks in the combined sciences, English, and mathematics. I heard the two schools nearly came to blows fighting over him.”
When it came to the phrase “the real deal,” Wen Siyuan showed no particular change of expression, but interjected with genuine curiosity: “Are you talking about the one from Huahua? I remember he was also doing the mathematics competition.”
The person speaking glanced at Ning Sui as they talked. Ning Sui listened while absently tilting her head down to examine the deep, longitudinal wood grain on the surface of the nearby desk.
“That’s right — and he’s genuinely a force to be reckoned with. Made it into the national training team for the mathematics competition, but didn’t go to the national squad. Thing is, he got a perfect score at CMO — everyone knew there was no way he was going to fail. When people finally asked about it, turns out he voluntarily gave up his spot in the second phase of the training team.”
“Nearly drove their famous math competition coach to the point of spitting blood. Everyone was waiting for the drama, but then the guy went and aced the college entrance exam to become top scholar and enrolled at Tsinghua to study computer science — who on earth could understand that —”
A perfect score at CMO — what did that even mean? Never heard anything like it.
Ning Sui’s fingertips curved ever so slightly. She said nothing, and went on listening as several people chattered away with more questions: “What does he look like?”
A girl’s eyes lit up as she whispered: “I have a friend at Huahua — apparently this genius is incredibly, incredibly good-looking. Hard to describe, but in terms of looks he’s absolutely the type who’d be voted school heartthrob. Loads of girls have secret crushes on him.”
Someone expressed skepticism, clicking their tongue: “No way — that’s too many attributes stacked on one person —”
The girl grew anxious: “It’s true! I’m serious — if you don’t believe me, look it up yourself! Huahua’s confession wall is full of his name!”
For some reason, Ning Sui’s thoughts began to drift. She hadn’t yet worked out what she was actually pondering, when a figure she knew extremely well came crashing into her and buried their head in her arms: “Ahhh, babe, I missed you so much!”
The people near the doorway had already started excitedly calling out the provincial top scholar’s name. Ning Sui pulled Hu Ke’er away a bit before looking her over carefully, and stared in genuine shock: “I thought you were off enjoying the grand adventure of graduation. I had no idea you’d actually been pioneering new frontiers in Africa.”
Hu Ke’er: “…”
Hu Ke’er touched her face with a skeptical look: “Am I really that noticeably darker?”
This girl had barely finished her exams before she cast friendship aside and ran off to Southeast Asia with her ambiguous love interest — and had the audacity to lie and say she was going back to her hometown. She was only found out halfway through the trip, though Ning Sui, out of the goodness of her heart, still hadn’t told her parents.
Hu Ke’er had come back from her travels looking like a different person — not only had her skin deepened by a shade, but her entire aura had taken on an exotic quality, untamed and breezy.
Xu Zhou was right behind her, casually draping his arm around Hu Ke’er’s shoulder with comfortable familiarity. He lavished praise without even blinking: “I don’t think so at all — babe’s skin looks as fair as ever. Like milk.”
Ning Sui: “…” She couldn’t bring herself to look.
In truth, the signs between those two had been there for some time. Xu Zhou was a student in the international track — a free spirit, from a wealthy family, and after getting accepted to a decent university in the United States, he’d begun casting about for a girlfriend. The two of them met through extracurricular activities, and with Xu Zhou’s deliberate flirting and the back-and-forth that followed, the spark had duly been struck.
Hu Ke’er’s father was a professor in the environmental science department at Huai’an University and was perpetually traveling around the country for fieldwork. Her mother was a geologist, equally accustomed to roughing it in the field. So Hu Ke’er had essentially been raised with minimal supervision — a level of freedom that was quite extraordinary.
Ning Sui actually understood very well why she’d fallen for Xu Zhou. In Hu Ke’er’s own words: whatever else he might be, at least he was there to keep her company when she was lonely.
The lovestruck couple had only just parted, and Hu Ke’er immediately switched the same clinging, languid manner she used on Xu Zhou onto Ning Sui: “Darling, I want to come over to your place for dinner tonight.”
Ning Sui didn’t feel like indulging her. Hu Ke’er blinked, and then struck exactly the right nerve as she caved: “Hey, Suibao — are you still upset because Xu Zhou and I went off together without telling you?”
She paused, then continued in a wheedling, pitiful tone: “It’s just — there was nothing settled between us yet, so I was worried that if I said something and things didn’t work out, it would’ve been awkward, you know.”
Ning Sui regarded her in silence for a moment, then asked: “Is being in a relationship as great as people say?”
“Oh, where do I even begin.” Hu Ke’er feigned a coy blush and dangled the bait. “Come over for dinner tonight, and I’ll tell you all about it when we’re curled up in bed.”
Ning Sui couldn’t help rolling her eyes at that, and only then took out her phone. She was just about to call Xia Fanghui to ask permission when Ning Deyan’s video call request came through.
Ning Deyan had already replayed the video of his precious daughter’s speech a good number of times and was in excellent spirits. When he spotted Hu Ke’er’s head popping into view on screen, he laughed cheerfully: “Hey there, little radish head — long time no see!”
Because of the word for carrot, Hu Ke’er’s childhood nickname had been “Radish Head” — a piece of personal history she considered deeply mortifying. At some point during a conversation between the two families, it had come up, and Ning Deyan had committed it to memory ever since, making a point of using it every time they met.
Ning Sui also had a childhood nickname — Little Coconut — because as a small child she’d been obsessed with coconut juice and loved making the peace sign in photos.
Hu Ke’er was genuinely aggrieved. Why were everyone else’s nicknames adorable, while hers was a vegetable?
The corner of her mouth gradually took on a strained quality. Ning Sui stood to the side, struggling not to laugh.
The topic having come up naturally, she asked Ning Deyan: “Can I bring Keke home for dinner tonight?”
Ning Deyan: “Of course — just check with your mother.”
In terms of her lifestyle, Hu Ke’er occasionally went a little off the rails, but academically she wasn’t bad. She’d performed beyond expectations on the college entrance exam and also had a composite score bonus from extracurriculars, so through what felt like the universe smiling upon her ancestors, she had just barely grazed the cutoff for Peking University.
Added to that, the two girls had always been close, and the two families visited each other frequently. Xia Fanghui had no objection either, and smiled warmly: “Of course — I’ll have the housekeeper make an extra portion.”
Hu Ke’er remembered that Ning Sui had an entertaining younger brother — a chubby little treasure of a child who said the funniest things: “Is your brother home?”
“He is.” Ning Sui recounted the essay incident and said sympathetically: “Twelve years, and today Dad finally couldn’t hold back and gave him a good smacking.”
“Oh my god hahaha, your brother is an absolute genius — he literally asked for what he got —” Hu Ke’er laughed so hard her shoulders shook. The two of them had just reached the corridor, and she coughed once and composed herself. Ning Sui took out her key and unlocked the door.
The moment they stepped inside, both girls stopped in their tracks.
The Xia Fanghui who had been warm and amiable on the phone just moments ago was now slapping an exercise workbook against the desk, her dignity thoroughly scorned: “I asked you to make a sentence using a simile, so why did you write ‘Mom is as ferocious as a tiger’?! You — you couldn’t have written ‘Mommy is as gentle as a princess’?!”
“…”
Ning Yue looked troubled: “But Teacher only asked me to make a sentence — not to make things up.”