Hu Ke’er had once come across a superstition online.

If you’re a content creator with poor traffic, you should open a side account and post “begging for traffic” updates every single day—like praying for rain during a drought in ancient times. Supposedly, it would attract an unexpected magnetic effect.

So in those first two months when she was starting her account, Hu Ke’er had diligently begged for traffic every single day.

What she hadn’t anticipated was that Flashying’s algorithm was far too intelligent. Because she was operating under that recklessly bold username, the platform had actually started recommending interviews with Du Junnian to her feed. She typically used her side account for scrolling, and had sometimes absent-mindedly tapped “like” a few times, saved a video or two.

So now, the account looked like it was living up to its own name.

……

After the event, Hu Ke’er was still trembling as she hid in the restroom of some side hall in the hotel, too mortified to come out.

Although she had reacted quickly—yanking out the data cable and switching back from the side account to her main one—that screen had still flashed for one brief, terrible moment. Who knew how many people had seen it.

Those ten minutes on stage, Hu Ke’er had wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground. She’d been rigid the entire time, mechanically completing the interaction with the host.

Now her WeChat was open on the chat window with Du Junnian.

Hu Ke’er didn’t know what to type. She sent a pained opening message: 【I’m sorry, Brother Junnian, I’ve caused you trouble again.】

Paopao Ke: 【That was my side account, just for begging traffic—I genuinely didn’t mean anything else by it, please don’t block me! [Sheepish grin]】

She sent it and waited a long time. No reply. Her heart hung suspended, neither up nor down.

She was just thinking he had probably already left the venue and it would be safe to head out now—when she happened to glance down at her phone, and nearly dropped it in shock.

——Du Junnian had called her directly on a voice call.

Hu Ke’er answered, her hand trembling.

It had been almost another year since the last time she’d bumped into him at the restaurant. She figured she’d better introduce herself so he could place her.

She gave two awkward little laughs: “Um, Brother Junnian, it’s me, I’m……”

Before she could finish, he spoke: “I remember you.”

Hu Ke’er swallowed: “Oh.”

Du Junnian said: “I’m not calling about anything in particular. I just have one question.”

“?”

She was still figuring out what to say next when she heard his low, unreadable voice on the other end: “Is it your plan to give me one surprise every year?”

Hu Ke’er: “……”

The man continued, in a perfectly mild tone: “No particular reason for the call—I just wanted to ask. Roughly when might the next one be? Could you give me some advance notice so I can prepare myself properly.”

“…………”

Help! Me! Please!!!

—

The three days passed in a heartbeat—almost in the blink of an eye, Xie Yichen had to fly back to America.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay longer. The workload piling up on that end was simply relentless, and these few days had been carved out through nights with no sleep.

The two of them parted reluctantly at the school gates, too absorbed in each other to care about onlookers. Before long, a post appeared on the campus confessions board: 【I think I saw A’Chen and his girlfriend today? He came back?!】

【He’s been back for days, you’re only noticing now lol】 【But looks like he’s leaving again—MIT keeps them really busy】 【Wait, then why did he even come back?】 【I saw them in the cafeteria the other day—he couldn’t have flown all the way back just to have lunch with her……】 【???】 【That’s so sweet, save me……】 【[Salute][Cheers]】 【He’s still exactly who he always was】 【They’ve been together for so long and they’re still so into each other—it’s sickeningly sweet…I feel like they could actually get married……】 【+1 his girlfriend’s life is charmed, I heard the XYC family company is going public, she’s in the perfect position to benefit】 【?】 【What kind of comment is that—they got together not because of the company, and she’s top three in the math department, double majoring in CS, easy-going personality, adorable, and gorgeous. I’m a guy and I’d like her too. What’s there to be sour about】

……

The discussion on the confessions board was blazing, but Ning Sui knew nothing of any of it.

Throughout her entire third year, second semester, she was focused single-mindedly on her studies, preparing for Tsinghua’s Computer Science department’s guaranteed postgraduate admission.

In May and June, MIT’s spring semester ended, but Xie Yichen couldn’t come back right away—he had independently applied for a research program at Carnegie Mellon University and needed to spend roughly a month and a half there.

The research group at this program had significant insights in Xie Yichen’s field of artificial intelligence-generated voice and image content—considered first-rate even internationally. Hearing about it, Ning Sui also felt that having such a rare learning opportunity was genuinely exceptional, and she was sincerely happy for him.

In truth, she really loved this feeling—that they weren’t compromising for each other, weren’t sacrificing their own futures just to be together. Instead, they were both quietly and steadily moving in the same direction without a word of prior arrangement.

This feeling of arriving at the same destination by different paths was something truly wonderful.

During the summer holiday, Ning Sui wasn’t going to the research lab anyway, so under strong pressure from Xia Fanghui, she followed Hu Ke’er and the others back to Huai’an.

For their family, it wasn’t just Ning Sui’s postgraduate application that was a major event—Ning Yue was also facing the first important milestone exam of his life: the Middle School Entrance Exam.

To be honest, Xia Fanghui and Ning Deyan had somewhat low expectations for the boy’s performance. Setting everything else aside, his mock exams in the weeks before the test had been all over the place—sometimes ranking in the top teens, other times in the forties or fifties. Xia Fanghui’s patience had been ground nearly down to nothing, and she’d been strenuously reining in her temper in the lead-up to the exam so as not to affect Ning Yue’s state of mind.

Ning Sui and Xia Fanghui accompanied Ning Yue to the examination venue. At midday they browsed the bookshop street nearby, spending the entire day there. When the last paper was finished, Ning Deyan had also rushed over after work. He asked Ning Yue how he felt, and Ning Yue furrowed his brow and let out a sigh that made him look genuinely troubled: “……Not confident.”

This wasn’t like him at all. He normally would have been grinning even if he’d bombed it. This had to mean it really had gone badly. Xia Fanghui’s heart sank, and she didn’t even want to speak anymore. Ning Deyan hurried off to get the car from the parking lot. The atmosphere on the drive home was chillingly silent.

It was painfully familiar. Ning Sui sat in silence. Ning Yue also hunched his little head, not daring to say a word.

They made the whole journey home without speaking.

Once they were inside, Xia Fanghui finally couldn’t hold back any longer and erupted: “I’ve told you how many times—study hard, study hard—and you just won’t listen. Look at you now, failing at the critical moment! Great job!”

She was simultaneously pulling out her phone to look up past cut-off scores and admissions data, continuing to scold: “What if you can’t get into the three top schools? If you fall short of the cut-off, you won’t get into a good high school, and one wrong step leads to another, and college will be in trouble too. Ning Yue, you really are——how am I supposed to talk to you?!”

Ning Yue kept his head down, listening to her sharp tirade, and said very quietly: “It’s not necessarily that bad—maybe it’s not as bad as you think. I said I wasn’t confident, not that I definitely did badly.”

The supreme pessimist Fang Fang had already run through every worst-case scenario on earth and was spiraling: “Shut it! Even when you feel confident you mess up—let alone when you don’t!”

Usually at times like this, everyone in the family knew not to make a sound unless absolutely necessary, and let Xia Fanghui vent her emotions first.

Ning Deyan had originally booked a restaurant and cinema tickets. Even he stayed quiet now, sitting there with a dejected look on his face.

A colleague of his happened to be the mother of one of Ning Yue’s classmates—another boy whose grades were perpetually neck and neck with Ning Yue’s, who privately regarded Ning Yue as his competition. That boy’s mother was fiercely competitive—whenever her son did well, she’d glow with pride and make pointed, gloating remarks. Xia Fanghui disliked their whole family intensely because of it. And now, in the days of waiting for results, that woman had been making frequent inquiries about Ning Yue’s performance. Having heard that Ning Yue seemed to have done poorly, she had been making barely veiled boasts.

“Oh, my son’s not saying he aced it or anything, but he said the questions weren’t hard—they were all things he’d done before. He said it felt pretty straightforward.”

“Straightforward doesn’t necessarily mean you have an edge though—if the whole city finds it easy, we can’t set our expectations too high, haha.”

Xia Fanghui’s mood had already been volatile. This made it even worse. After she got home, she essentially ground Ning Yue into the floor: “Allowance confiscated! Graduation gift cancelled! And don’t even think about the new phone. Go study, right now—start on the high school curriculum today!”

So for the better part of that month, Ning Yue was miserable, forced to grind through Year One Physics and Math content. As the days crept closer to results day, Xia Fanghui finally calmed down, accepted the reality that he had bombed it, and began swinging the other way—consoling him instead: “It’s okay, sweetheart—don’t lose heart. There’s so much road ahead of you. One setback doesn’t define anything. If it comes to it, Mom will pay for you to go to an international school……”

Ning Yue: “……”

He was utterly numb, plain and simple.

On the day results were released, that family contrived to invite Ning Deyan to lunch, framing it as checking results together. Ning Deyan’s resolve wasn’t strong enough to refuse, and he mumbled an ambiguous yes.

This was a transparent attempt to humiliate them to their face. Xia Fanghui was furious—but the word “retreat” did not exist in Fang Fang’s vocabulary. She took Ning Yue by the hand and went. Before leaving, she made a point of telling him: “It’s okay, sweetheart. Even if you didn’t do well, Mom and Dad are still proud of you!”

Ning Yue: “……”

That line sounded far too familiar. He simply didn’t believe that once the results were actually seen, his mother would maintain her emotional composure—so he just gave two perfunctory “mm”s.

The other family had specially reserved a large private room at a high-end restaurant. Their son stood there in his best outfit, spine ramrod straight. The mother could barely suppress the smile spreading across her face: “Oh, Fang Cui, don’t overthink it—maybe the kid just felt off? Maybe he actually did great, who knows——”

Xia Fanghui made two dismissive humming noises and put on a polite smile: “Your Xiao Qi is so accomplished—making it into one of the top three high schools is a sure thing for him.”

“Oh please.” The other mother was practically glowing, somehow finding something to say even in response to a compliment, waving a hand: “Let’s see—results will be out soon.”

The dishes arrived one after another. Before long, it was twelve o’clock exactly. Both families snapped into high alert, rapidly pulling out every device to log into the website and check scores.

The opposing father had even brought a laptop, connecting early to the restaurant’s WiFi, all for the sole purpose of checking results first and seizing the joy of the high ground.

“Tick, tick, tick——” The second hand turned.

In the private room, both sides stared at their screens without blinking. Then suddenly, in a spectacularly dramatic moment, two exclamations rang out at the exact same time.

“What the——”

“What the——?!”

The more high-pitched one was Fang Fang’s.

Xia Fanghui’s hands were trembling with excitement. Why did this score feel so completely beyond her expectations—not disappointingly low, but shockingly, unexpectedly high. 456.

——Out of a maximum of 460.

Ning Yue was sitting prim and upright in his chair, still completely unaware of what was happening.

Staring at her son—who had been so well-behaved this past month of being disciplined and scolded—Xia Fanghui could have sworn that for one moment he was radiating the brilliant aura of a celestial scholar descended from the heavens. She asked in stunned disbelief: “How did you—how did you manage that?”

On the other side of the table, the other mother had gone a sickly green. She stared at the 448 on her screen, her face a dark iron, and, being the tiger-mom type she was, immediately smacked her son on the shoulder and erupted: “How did you manage that?!”

One point separated thousands of candidates. The best three high schools in Huai’an required at least 454 to get in—no wonder her composure had completely collapsed.

Results were out. Some rejoiced. Some wept.

Having braced herself for the very worst, Xia Fanghui had received the very best. All the way home, she couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear: “I’m guessing Xiao Qi probably isn’t having a great night tonight, hm?”

With their son having done so well, Ning Deyan was naturally delighted too. He drove with a cheerful smile: “Alright, don’t gloat.”

“I just can’t stand how smug that family gets.” Xia Fanghui shot him a look and gave her head a satisfied shake. “Stop pretending—I know you don’t like them either.”

The whole family burst out laughing and sped home.

The feeling of vindication was just too satisfying—who could understand it?!

Ning Yue, having been suppressed for nearly a month, felt like a serf who had finally thrown off his chains and burst into song.

Fang Fang had recently changed her hairstyle—no longer the sleek, neat short brown bob, but back to her original black medium-length hair, past the shoulders. It looked a little thinner now, though. At dinner, Ning Yue remarked with an air of somber gravity: “Mom, I really feel like you’ve sacrificed so much for me these past three years.”

That didn’t exactly sound like praise. The implication was clear: if you’d stopped micromanaging me and stopped losing your temper so much, your hair might still be thick.

Fang Fang heard the subtext perfectly, rolled her eyes a little—but because she was in such a good mood, she gave a haughty “hmph” and didn’t answer.

Ning Yue reflected on three years of battling with competition math and high school material and felt deeply sorry for himself: “I just realized—seems like I got scolded for nothing this past month, and I missed the graduation trip I’d made plans with my friends for!”

Xia Fanghui thought back to her own unhinged behavior at the time—her emotions completely out of control, saying all manner of harsh things to Ning Yue—and felt a wave of guilt.

But she couldn’t quite bring herself to lose face in front of her children, and her mouth was harder than anyone’s: “Well you can’t blame me entirely—if you hadn’t kept saying you weren’t confident, I wouldn’t have gotten the wrong idea, would I?”

Ning Yue: “……”

This was actually a bit of an unorthodox move on his part, as it turned out. That night, while Ning Yue was still awake, Ning Sui was curious enough to drag the little schemer into her room and ask him why he’d been so pessimistic with his estimate—that really wasn’t like him.

Ning Yue: “Sis, have you ever considered—I learned it from you.”

Ning Sui: “?”

Ning Yue said pensively: “Reasonable expectation management. Multi-party game theory. Staggered release of anger.”

Ning Sui: “……”

——Good lord.

Though if she thought about it, she could understand it. Ning Yue was increasingly taking after her in certain ways.

Xia Fanghui, now in middle age and past the length of the Great Wall in terms of the duration of her temperamental phase, was tenderly considerate and attentive when she was gentle—willing to fulfill every wish of the two of them, the world’s best mother—but when she was angry, she exploded at the slightest trigger, like a gas tank waiting to go off.

Since Ning Sui had gone off to university, she felt the impact of this a lot less, but sometimes it still got to her. Let alone Ning Yue.

That night, curled up in her room calling Xie Yichen, she recounted the whole story with relish.

It had been such a glorious reversal—just thinking about the expression on Fang Fang’s face when she’d had to eat her words and backpedal made Ning Sui’s mouth curve upward involuntarily. To offer a roundabout apology, Fang Fang had promised to make it up to the boy with an overseas trip, to take along his friends, all expenses covered.

Ning Yue, steeled to the core, was still milking it and crying a river of complaints. Xia Fanghui couldn’t hold out against him, so she also threw in a pair of limited edition basketball shoes and a new smartphone.

Ning Yue, arms full of gifts, pushed for more: “Mom, also, from now on, if you could just compliment me a little more often, that would be even better……”

Xia Fanghui gave a gentle smile: “My child, that’s enough.”

Ning Yue made a swift exit: “Got it!”

Xie Yichen was laughing on the other end, unhurried: “Your little brother’s quite the quick study.”

“I’m nowhere near as——” Ning Sui had been about to say “shameless,” but then she thought of a certain person on the phone and sincerely swallowed the word back: “……like you.”

Xie Yichen: “?”

“What’s that supposed to mean.” He lifted an eyebrow, perceptive, with pointed implication: “Ning Coconut, I get the feeling you’re secretly insulting me.”

Ning Sui hadn’t been able to stop herself from glancing down at her collarbone. She swallowed and said slowly: “……No.”

He had, in fact, already returned these past few days—the long-distance relationship was finally over. During the day they were together practically every waking moment, and while Xia Fanghui was away on a business trip the day before yesterday, they’d spent the night out together. He had, however, gone a little too far this time. When she woke up that morning the marks were painfully visible, and Ning Sui had been so mortified she could have buried herself in the ground.

After a whole lot of work, she’d only just barely managed to cover them with foundation—sparing herself from being discovered by Xia Fanghui.

Xie Yichen gave a soft, brief laugh. He probably knew what she was thinking, and didn’t press the matter: “What are you doing?”

The pink alpaca plush he’d brought back from America last time he visited sat on the table beside her—big eyes, long lashes, charmingly dopey-looking. Ning Sui rested her chin on her desk, idly tugging at one of its ears with nothing better to do, her lips curving upward a little: “Writing my personal statement.”

Xie Yichen: “So early?”

“Mm, my mom started pushing me a while ago.” She asked: “Haven’t you started yet?”

“Not yet—soon. Need to wrap up things on the Flashying end first.”

Ning Sui gave a quiet little “oh.”

Xie Yichen said with a smile on the other end: “Once you finish, would you want to let me read it?”

She had exactly that in mind: “Sure.”

Ning Sui had recently been preparing applications for both domestic and international graduate programs simultaneously. International universities generally required a personal statement in English. Though the submission deadline was still some way off, Fang Fang had long been pushing her to start early, leaving enough time to later seek advice from senior students.

Just thinking about the whole process made Ning Sui’s head ache. Whenever it came to major life decisions like this, she became very anxious—hard to say exactly why, but perhaps these years of being pushed by Xia Fanghui had left her excessively results-oriented, prone to a constant gnawing sense of anxiety.

Ning Sui propped up her cheek and suddenly called out: “Oreo.”

Xie Yichen paused on the other end, then quickly gave a lilting reply: “Right here.”

She tightened her fingertips, pulled the fluffy alpaca into her arms, let her lashes drop, and said softly: “What if I don’t get into the schools we talked about?”

The plan in their姚 class was essentially that everyone would go abroad for their PhD. So Ning Sui was also preparing applications for several overseas universities—if things worked out, they’d be at the same school for graduate studies.

But she realized now she’d never considered: what if things didn’t work out?

She tossed this vaguely uneasy question to him, and Xie Yichen considered it for only a brief moment before answering calmly: “If we’re not in the same city, then I’ll come find you every weekend.”

Ning Sui asked: “What if you’re really busy?”

Xie Yichen said: “You can always find time if you make time.”

“Long-distance is hard.” Recalling the past several months, she let out a small sigh. “If it’s East and West Coast we’d have to deal with the time difference. I’d worry about you not sleeping well.”

There was a pause on the other end, his tone steady, as though this wasn’t any great matter at all: “I can sleep on the plane.”

“That can’t be a permanent solution.”

Ning Sui pressed her lips together lightly: “Or—if you’re really swamped, maybe every two weeks? Or I could come to you instead.”

“No—once a week. I’ll come to you,” Xie Yichen said. “Two weeks is too long.”

Something like a plucked string trembled inside Ning Sui’s chest, warm and jumping. Before she could say anything, she heard him give a lazy laugh on the other end, with that careless, easy bravado, drawling out the syllables: “Besides, could you really get used to sleeping alone?”

He paused a beat, apparently with intent, slow and unhurried and slightly improper as he stretched the last syllable: “Don’t you like sleeping in my arms?”

“……”

Like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.

Her mind replayed images she hadn’t asked it to. Ning Sui was stunned, then her blood rushed to her face. She instinctively pushed back: “I never——”

Xie Yichen asked with amusement: “What do you mean you didn’t? Who was it the night before last who kept pressing against me, whining and refusing to leave?”

“……”

Ning Sui absolutely did not have skin as thick as his. He could say something like that so plainly without flinching, while she could feel her eartips going red. After a speechless silence, she pivoted with as much composure as she could muster: “So—the company going public must be progressing quite well by now?”

She pivoted with all the grace of a stiff turn, and he followed along with a soft laugh, not calling her out on it: “Mm, going fine. Just submitted the Hong Kong Stock Exchange listing application.”

The approval process would take about seven months. What remained was just responding to the Hong Kong Stock Exchange’s inquiries and waiting for the process to run its course.

The company primarily provided SaaS services, cloud computing, integrated intelligent management systems, and consolidated platforms to enterprise clients. Its current valuation was in the low hundreds of billions. Originally they’d planned to list in the US, but the timing hadn’t been right—the overall environment for Chinese-listed companies abroad had been unfavorable—so they had chosen Hong Kong instead.

However, the business had already begun expanding overseas, gradually growing a sprawling structure. Xie Zhenlin and Qiu Ruoyun were both away from Huai’an these days. Only his uncle Qiu Zhao remained. Qiu Zhao was currently managing the group’s wholly-owned blockchain subsidiary, and Xie Yichen had crossed paths with him briefly at the company.

Qiu Zhao had looked rushed, as though hurrying somewhere to attend to something. Xie Yichen greeted him, and he stopped, smiled, and exchanged a few pleasantries.

These family members of theirs had never been close to one another. They didn’t talk long before parting ways.

Xie Yichen wasn’t idle these days either. His parents’ company was preparing to list; Flashying needed continuous technical investment; and at the same time he was preparing for the defense for Tsinghua’s top-level university special scholarship.

Speaking of the special scholarship—the defense was always packed with extraordinary talents every year: first-author papers in top-tier journals, gold medals in international competitions, invention patents, and more. The school had only ten spots, and the Yao Class was more or less guaranteed one. Past recipients had credentials that were nothing short of breathtaking.

After summer break ended and he returned to campus, Xie Yichen registered for the scholarship. The process moved along smoothly—a week later, the department teacher posted the results on the notice board, and the Computer Science department’s nomination went to him.

Not that there was any real room for doubt: his GPA was genuinely formidable. Beyond mathematics, he had received full marks in core courses like Computer Organization and Software Engineering. He had a gold medal in ACM International, and three first-author papers on AI-generated content in artificial intelligence published at major international conferences—one of which won the Best Student Paper Award at the ISAAC conference.

On top of that, his spring research experience at MIT and Carnegie Mellon, as well as his experience co-founding Flashying, were extraordinary highlights in their own right.

When Tsinghua’s official public account released the list and photos of all fifteen candidates, the school’s online forums nearly crashed.

【AAAAAAAAA first time seeing such a clear official photo!!】 【15 candidates, 10 spots, our department is winning, there’s no way A’Chen doesn’t make it!!】 【He is SO good-looking omg omg!!】 【Wait he also got best paper??? That’s legitimately impressive [thumbs up]】 【Same 24 hours in a day—how does he get that much done……someone help me……】 【Freshman in the Yao Class here, looking up in awe at this senior qaq so admiring him TAT】 【Wait, can we attend the defense? I want to watch the titans battle up close!!】

……

Tsinghua’s annual special scholarship defense attracted enormous outside attention. Giant photographs of the candidates and their honor summaries would be displayed along Xuetang Road, where everyone passing by could see them.

Despite the frenzy of public discussion, the person at the center of it all seemed to be taking everything in his stride, calm and unhurried, coding away every day in their long-term rental apartment.

In early September, Ning Sui successfully secured her place in Tsinghua’s Computer Science postgraduate program, and then focused herself just as steadily on her overseas applications. The two of them helped each other with their personal statements—reviewing each other’s word choices and sentence structures, preparing for written exams.

Nearly a year of living together had passed, and Zhang Yuge had somehow only just found out, utterly floored. He immediately messaged Xie Yichen: 【Hold on, when did you two move in together?】

A cryptic reply came: 【How do you know about that.】

Jin Ge: 【?】 Jin Ge: 【Liu Chang let it slip the other day.】 Jin Ge: 【Bro, is that even the point? The point is how was I only finding out about this a YEAR later?!】

Xie Yichen: 【Maybe you’re not very well-informed?】

“???”

A dig on top of everything, complete with a question mark of uncertainty.

Zhang Yuge was so annoyed he sent a voice message: “Big bro, are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

The other end gave a lazy, somewhat apologetic sound: “Well, what do you want me to do? Did I need to file a formal report with you first?”

Jin Ge: 【.】 Jin Ge: 【AAAAAAAAA!!!】

Zhang Yuge had also briefly tasted the sweetness of love.

That girl he’d liked a lot back in their first year had fizzled out without ever going anywhere. Then in his third year, he’d met someone who made his heart move again. This time, Zhang Yuge had turned over a new leaf—no more dithering and dragging his feet. He made his move decisively and won her over.

The first two months were genuinely sweet—inseparable even on bathroom trips. But gradually things cooled, and between his increasing workload and the natural loss of momentum, the connection faded on its own.

So Zhang Yuge truly wanted to sit both of them down for an interview—just how on earth had they been together this long and were still this disgustingly in love?!