Teacher Xu was looking through last year’s speech drafts for her reference.

While Teacher Xu wasn’t paying attention, Lin Zhexia whispered back to him: “You were secretly mocking me just now.”

“I was quite open about it.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia removed the word ‘secretly’ and accused him again: “You mocked me.”

The person behind her said, “Yes, I mocked you.”

“…”

“I mock you, and I pinch you once—that’s not excessive, right?”

After chatting with him for a bit, Lin Zhexia became angrier, “I didn’t manage to pinch you just now, don’t leave when we go out, let me pinch you again.”

Chi Yao’s voice paused slightly.

“Do I look to you…”

“?”

He continued immediately: “Like someone whose brain is waterlogged?”

He certainly didn’t look like that.

So by the time Lin Zhexia left the office carrying a stack of award-winning speech drafts from previous competitions, Chi Yao had already gone.

Back in class, Lin Zhexia gave Tang Shuxuan her share and relayed the requirements Teacher Xu had just told her.

Unexpectedly, Tang Shuxuan calmly said: “Oh, okay, got it.”

Lin Zhexia: “Aren’t you nervous?”

“Nervous about what?” Tang Shuxuan asked.

“The speech! And Teacher Xu said they’ll randomly select over a thousand students and teachers from the whole school as the audience, over a thousand.”

Contrary to her expectations, Tang Shuxuan shyly adjusted her hair: “If getting on stage this time makes that senior from third year notice me, I wouldn’t be afraid even if it were a ten-thousand-person auditorium, let alone a thousand.”

“…”

She had almost forgotten that after failing to get Chi Yao’s contact information, Tang Shuxuan had shifted her target to a certain senior.

Although a year had passed, she hadn’t made any progress.

She had underestimated the world of a lovesick girl.

For the next half day of classes, Lin Zhexia couldn’t focus on the lectures.

The speech competition felt like a heavy stone pressing down on her heart.

In the evening, Lin Zhexia sat at her desk, staring worriedly at a paper titled “Chengan No. 2 Middle School’s 10th Speech Competition.”

She had flipped that paper back and forth, examining it until it was almost crumpled.

At this moment, Lin He knocked on the door and said softly: “I’m coming in.”

There was no time to put away the paper, so Lin He saw the competition paper on the desk as soon as she entered.

“A speech competition,” Lin He said, “are you participating?”

Lin Zhexia said with some concern: “Yes, our teacher wants me to participate.”

Knowing her child best, Lin He was also a bit worried: “Participating in competitions is a good thing, but with your personality, you’re only glib around people you know at home. Sometimes you can’t even get a word out when you go outside. Can you manage to compete on stage?”

“…”

Lin He knew her well.

She probably couldn’t handle it.

In the end, she could only say: “I’ll… try my best.”

After Lin He left, Tang Shuxuan happened to send a message, comforting her on WeChat: Don’t worry, I’ve participated in this kind of competition before. Just keep calm. It’s not much different from standing up to answer questions in class.

Tang Shuxuan: Or is there a boy whose attention you want to attract? You can use that as a goal, like me.

Lin Zhexia replied: Then I want to disappear from the eyes of all the boys in school.

Chen Lin also sent a message: Deskmate, just pretend those thousand people in the audience are cabbages.

Lin Zhexia replied to Chen Lin: A thousand cabbages are still pretty terrifying.

After replying, Lin Zhexia put her phone aside and sighed.

She was worried she would mess up.

…

This had little to do with courage, because in life, there are many things that you have to do but require a lot of courage to accomplish.

It’s just that sometimes, mustering that courage is difficult.

Over the weekend, she spent one day writing her speech, which turned out quite conventional, full of templated sentences.

In the end, she managed to elevate the theme somewhat, making it look reasonably good.

The only thing left to prepare was the “delivery.”

She first tried to memorize and recite the speech in her room.

Wei Ping was a professional cheerleader.

He expressed 100% admiration for Lin Zhexia’s speech: “Uncle thinks it’s excellent!”

“This is the first time I’ve heard such a brilliant speech. First, your content is very professional. Second, your memorization is excellent, with proper emphasis and pauses. For instance, those several pauses in the middle highlight the key points of your speech and add paragraph structure—”

“No, Uncle Wei,” Lin Zhexia couldn’t help interrupting, “that’s where I stumbled while reciting.”

Wei Ping: “…Ah, um.”

Wei Ping: “But you stumbled beautifully, it wasn’t abrupt at all, Uncle didn’t even notice.”

Lin Zhexia: “Thank you, your critique is very earnest.”

Finally, standing in the living room with her speech in hand, she thought for a moment and said: “You two aren’t suitable, I’d better find someone else to listen to me.”

Ten minutes later.

She knocked on Chi Yao’s door, speech in hand: “Congratulations.”

Chi Yao: “?”

“You’ve won a prize.”

Chi Yao had been playing games with He Yang until midnight last night, and looked like he hadn’t fully woken up. Today, he was unusually wearing a white T-shirt, looking fresh and clean, for once resembling a civilized person.

Then Lin Zhexia heard this “civilized person” open his mouth and say something not so civilized: “Get all your craziness out at once.”

Lin Zhexia took out her speech: “Congratulations on being selected as today’s lucky audience member, receiving an opportunity to witness Lin Zhexia’s speech.”

The “civilized person” glanced at the speech: “Can I decline?”

Lin Zhexia: “No, you can’t.”

“What about transferring it to someone else?”

“Also. Not. Possible.”

“Forced sales again?”

“Yes,” Lin Zhexia nodded, “if you want to refuse, you’ll have to die first.”

Chi Yao’s reaction was mild as he made a move to close the door: “Oh, then just pretend I’m dead.”

“……”

Lin Zhexia stuck her hand through the door gap and forced her way in. To make him listen to her speech, she blurted out: “No, how could I bear to pretend you’re dead?”

After saying this, she was stunned for a moment.

Chi Yao’s hand, which was about to close the door, also paused.

How could I bear?

Bear.

The phrase “how could I bear” sounded strange.

Her mind went blank for two seconds, then when it started working again, she habitually covered for herself: “What I mean is, if you died, I’d have to go bother other people, which wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Chi Yao gave a cold laugh: “So you bother me instead?”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Chi Yao said sarcastically: “Should I also praise you for being so conscientious?”

Lin Zhexia: “That’s okay, no need for praise.”

After entering, she first prepared a glass of water for herself.

Then she pushed Chi Yao onto the sofa, ordered him not to run away, cleared her throat, and unfolded her speech: “Hello everyone, I am Lin Zhexia from Class 7, Grade 2. The title of my speech is Youth.”

She paused briefly, opened one hand outward, coordinating the gesture with an aria-like sigh: “Ah—Youth. A word that seems simple, yet is not so simple.”

Chi Yao sat on the sofa, casually applauding: “Hearing your words is like… hearing words.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Chi Yao tilted his chin up slightly: “Continue.”

Lin Zhexia didn’t want to continue anymore.

She stopped: “Let me drink some water.”

After using the water to cover her embarrassment, she continued reading: “—Each of us has, or once had, youth.”

Chi Yao was already starting to yawn.

He propped his chin with one hand and interrupted her: “Besides clichés, do you have anything else?”

“…”

“How is this a cliché?” Lin Zhexia said, “Is there anything wrong with what I said? Can you say there’s something wrong with it?”

Chi Yao: “It’s a statement with nothing wrong with it, but it’s still a cliché.”

“…”

Hearing this, he seemed to reluctantly become a bit more energetic: “Continue, I suddenly feel your speech isn’t entirely worthless, at least it adds some humor to my otherwise dull day.”

Lin Zhexia took a deep breath.

She forced herself to calm down.

Coming to find Chi Yao.

That was a mistake.

But looking at it from another angle, Chi Yao was the first hurdle on her speech journey.

If she could successfully deliver her speech in front of Chi Yao, what other demons and monsters would she fear?

Would there be any audience more hateful, more critical, more picky than Chi Yao?

No.

She would fear no one.

Lin Zhexia struggled to recall what the second paragraph was about, then recited it with some stumbling.

This time, Chi Yao didn’t criticize her.

He quieted down, propping his chin, looking a bit listless, but listening to her the whole time.

Occasionally, he would comment: “This time was better than the last.”

Lin Zhexia was a bit proud: “I do have some talent for public speaking, don’t I?”

Chi Yao looked up: “I thought this was called making up for lack of talent through hard work.”

“…”

The speech was very long, and it was difficult to memorize it completely and fluently.

Lin Zhexia spent the entire afternoon at his place reciting the speech to him, drinking two containers of water in the process.

During her final attempt at reciting, she still forgot her lines in the middle: “So we should cherish youth, um, we should… what comes next?”

The person on the sofa, who was almost asleep from listening, propped up his head and casually continued: “We should race toward tomorrow without regrets.”

Lin Zhexia: “Oh, right, we should race toward tomorrow without—”

She stopped halfway, “Wait, how do you know it by heart already?”

Chi Yao: “Because my intelligence is normal.”

Lin Zhexia: “If you want to say I’m stupid, just say it directly.”

Chi Yao put down his hand, stood up from the sofa, and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he passed by her, he stopped and casually placed his hand on her head for a moment, saying somewhat drowsily: “Yes, you’re stupid.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia felt somewhat defeated.

After all, she had spent so much time memorizing, yet a mere “audience member” could recite it more smoothly than she could.

When Chi Yao walked out of the kitchen with a water glass in hand.

Lin Zhexia looked at him and said, “Since you already know it by heart, why don’t I give this precious opportunity to you? You can go compete instead.”

Lin Zhexia stayed at Chi Yao’s place all afternoon.

By evening, around dinner time, Lin He called her home to eat.

During the meal, she was a bit gloomy. This gloom stemmed from something she already had little confidence in, after a day of effort, seemed to have not improved.

She began to doubt whether she could do this at all.

Once a person begins to doubt themselves, the first thing they think of is giving up.

“Mom, Uncle Wei,” Lin Zhexia lowered her head, poking at the rice in her bowl with chopsticks, “I’m thinking of telling Teacher Xu to replace me with someone else for the competition.”

Lin He didn’t want to force her either, and since the speech competition wasn’t mandatory, she went along with her: “If it’s too difficult, just tell the teacher to replace you.”

Wei Ping also said, “Yes, and you’ve already tried your best. If it’s challenging, just talk to the teacher.”

Lin Zhexia responded with a sound of agreement.

After dinner, she seriously considered the matter of replacement.

She sat in the living room and clicked on Teacher Xu’s profile picture through the class group.

Teacher Xu’s profile picture was a quietly blooming lotus flower. She hesitated for a long time, looking at that lotus flower, typing words into the dialog box, and then quickly deleting them.

Finally, she wrote a very formal message, but just before sending it, her finger paused for a second over the send button.

However, in that very second.

Her phone suddenly vibrated.

Chi Dog: Still practicing or not

Suddenly, all of Lin Zhexia’s emotions from the entire day erupted at these five ordinary words.

She sniffled very slightly.

She switched to the chat window, and her fingers flew across the keyboard.

Do you also think I can’t do it

I know, my recitation isn’t smooth, I keep stumbling

I can’t even memorize such simple content

And just thinking about going on stage with so many people watching makes me nervous.

She typed several lines.

Then, slowing down her typing speed, she repeated the first sentence.

So

Do you

Also think I can’t do it

If Chi Yao were in front of her right now, she wouldn’t have said so much.

Perhaps it was because of the distance created by the network, or perhaps it was because just seconds ago, she had nearly sent that message of surrender to Teacher Xu.

After she sent it, there was no immediate reply from the other side.

After about ten seconds, she saw the familiar “the other party is typing.”

Chi Dog: Although your speech is full of clichés from beginning to end, and your recitation isn’t great either

Chi Dog: But no one thinks you can’t do it

Chi Dog: It’s you who thinks you can’t do it

Strangely, though, they were just a few lines of text.

She could almost hear Chi Yao’s voice through these lines—that voice habitually tinged with mockery, but sometimes mysteriously revealing a hint of gentleness—appearing beside her ear.

The other side sent a final message.

Chi Dog: I don’t think so