This year, Meng Sicheng was the only one in the province to score full marks in mathematics.

Song Qitao got stuck at 97 points in math, barely missing a hundred, with a total score 250 points behind Meng Sicheng. 

When he checked his scores, Song Qitao was in tears, thinking he had failed when he came out of Meng Sicheng’s room. 

Luckily, with the top student’s secret tips on how to score points even when you can’t solve the big questions, he turned the tide.

Song’s dad and mom were overjoyed, considering their son’s math score was only 47 four months ago! Now, with Song Qitao’s excellent art joint exam results, he could choose a decent university.

Song Qitao was feeling pretty good. Just as the family was about to gather and discuss college applications, the long-dormant grey penguin account suddenly came to life, sending eight school codes.

[Consider.]

Song Qitao looked at them and saw that none were the popular schools in Beijing City or Hai City, but rather a few double first-class universities in the south. With his scores, he could only get into a first-tier school in the capital, but in other provinces, he had a chance to snag a double first-class spot.

Song Qitao copied the codes and showed them to his dad, “Dad, no need to research anymore, check this out.”

His dad checked the historical score lines, and the first four schools had a chance of being a lucky pick, while the last four schools were sure to pass the admission line.

“Wow, son, did you pay someone to fill out your application?” It’s said that top institutions charge thousands for this service, and whether they’re professional or not is unknown, but they’re definitely expensive.

Song Qitao scratched the back of his neck, “A classmate helped me out.”

Song Guo: “Then invite him over for a meal?”

Song Qitao: “He said he’s busy, not in Hai City anymore.” Maybe he’s gone somewhere to work and earn tuition?

Song Qitao didn’t want to pry because the top student had a strong sense of pride and never charged much. Song Qitao could only say, “If there’s anything I can help with in the future, just ask. As long as it’s not illegal, I’ll go through fire and water!”

In September, Meng Sicheng headed north to study in a top university’s math department, while Song Qitao went south to a double first-class university’s art department. It was truly lucky, missing one point would have meant he couldn’t get in.

Song Qitao attended a historic teacher’s university, but unfortunately, the dormitory building was also quite old. Six people per room, with bunk beds.

While attending classes, Song Qitao opened an account called “Maotao” to post his practice drawings, gradually accumulating a fan base.

One day, a publishing house reached out, inviting him to collaborate with a well-known comic script teacher on a manga. The script teacher was Shi Liu, nicknamed Pomegranate. Song Qitao had seen his work, and both the plot and storyboarding were amazing.

Song Qitao’s Maotao account didn’t show his face and wasn’t carefully managed, with the number of followers being just a fraction of the other party’s. He didn’t know how they found him among the sea of people.

The other party really had a good eye. Confident in his drawing skills, Song Qitao didn’t think much about it and was satisfied with the copyright split. After having a law-studying classmate review the contract, he happily signed it.

He started working on Surface Monarchs.

Since the script was coming out slowly, Song Qitao’s workload wasn’t tight, allowing him to balance classes and part-time work. 

Three years flew by, and Surface Monarchs had only released the first and middle volumes, with the last volume still being serialized. The powerful political intrigue and sharp, distinct strokes made the manga an instant hit.

Song Qitao earned a considerable amount from the copyright share, burying himself in drawing and becoming obsessed with making money.

One day, while he was working at his desk, his roommate Liang Yi woke up in the middle of the night with a start.

Song Qitao: “What’s wrong?”

Liang Yi, still shaken, said, “I dreamt I was in the math exam for the college entrance exam, and I couldn’t even understand sin and cos. If I traveled back, my life would be over!”

Song Qitao also felt a chill, thinking how scary it was as he hadn’t touched math in three years.

Liang Yi advised him to sleep, “Don’t stay up late, Maotao. The latest trend is dying suddenly and being reborn. If you go back to senior year, you’re done for.”

Whoa, Liang Yi sure knew how to scare Song Qitao. Song Qitao suddenly felt his heart and head pounding, and he scrambled into bed, closing his eyes.

Yet, in his mind flashed the answers to the math multiple-choice questions from back then. “…”

Although he couldn’t remember the questions, the options were etched in his mind. It seemed like a bit of a rebirth advantage. Wait, remembering might be scarier than forgetting.

Song Qitao covered his face, rolling on the bed, but unfortunately, the bed was too small, giving him the same cramped feeling as three years ago, with nowhere to hide.

Meng Sicheng’s brainwashing ability was too strong.

……

As summer approached the end of his junior year, on a Saturday afternoon, the scorching sun swept over the south, with a continuous heat warning in Nancheng where Song Qitao was.

Despite being only three years old, the air conditioner was running weakly, and every building was buzzing. Suddenly, the world went silent for a moment, followed by wails erupting from every corner.

The entire living area experienced a power outage, with the restoration time unknown.

Song Qitao was taking a nap in the shade of the air conditioner, covered with a thin spring and autumn blanket, gradually waking up from the heat, sweat sliding down his rosy cheeks like a peach dipped in water.

He woke up drenched in sweat and saw the group notification that the power had been out for an hour. With plans to draw in the evening, he had to find a place with air conditioning.

Song Qitao opened the hotel booking app, but the hotels near the school were all greyed out. His competitors were too quick, and everything was booked.

He exited the app, intending to switch back to WeChat to ask if any roommate had booked a room so he could squeeze in. A group message popped up faster.

No. 7 Middle School Alumni Group A group of people from his year who studied in Nancheng had formed a group, and they had a meal together at the beginning of their freshman year, but it had been quiet since.

Yao Zhao: 7 PM, Jinfu Restaurant, I’m treating for my birthday, please give me face and come, food and drinks included, plus accommodation.

Just want to celebrate with hometown folks, feeling homesick, pity.jpg

Red packet

Yao Zhao, Yao Zhao, he knew him, seemed to be studying international relations, preparing for an exchange abroad in his senior year. Yao Zhao loved treating classmates to meals in high school, and Song Qitao had eaten his meals in the cafeteria, so they had some interaction.

Song Qitao casually clicked on the red packet, 86.6, with a total amount of only two hundred, making him the luckiest today.

Normally, in this hot weather, Song Qitao would be too lazy to go out, but today he had no choice. He immediately responded in the group. Happy birthday, I’m coming!

Yao Zhao was so easily homesick, going abroad in his senior year would be tough.

On his way, Song Qitao bought a pair of earphones as a gift and arrived at the restaurant just in time at five o’clock, before the meal started.

He sat in the restaurant’s ground floor lobby, ordered a peach double-skin milk, enjoyed the comfortable air conditioning, and took out his tablet from his backpack to draw.

June was the season for peaches, and as he drew, he ate fresh peach slices, sketching for two hours. He licked his lips, just in time to pack up for the meal and eat something savory.

Yao Zhao and three other high school classmates came in and reported their name at the service desk, “You can start serving the dishes.”

Since it was a last-minute invitation, not many people came.

Yao Zhao said, “Those who need accommodation tonight, come over to book a room.”

Two classmates mentioned they had school matters the next day, so they would return after eating. Although hotel accommodation was tempting, waking up to rush back to school under the scorching sun wasn’t appealing. It was better to head back while it was cool at night.

“I will!” Song Qitao glanced at the group chat, and the school still had no power. Since he was already in the city, he didn’t feel like going back.

He took out his ID card, and Yao Zhao booked three single rooms.

The group went upstairs to the private room for the meal. Everyone was outgoing and playful, asking Song Qitao for tips on maintaining a youthful look.

Time really was a butcher’s knife, some people were only in their junior year, staying up late playing games, and already showing signs of wear.

Song Qitao earnestly said, “Don’t play games.” Because he didn’t know how to play.

He handed the wrapped gift to Yao Zhao, sincerely saying, “Happy birthday.”

Yao Zhao accepted it cheerfully, “You didn’t have to bring a gift, just being here is enough. Let me see.”

He looked down at the simple drawing on the gift wrap, a cartoon version of himself, very lifelike, clearly him, “I like it.”

As soon as they sat down, the waiter began serving the dishes, and within a few minutes, everything was on the table.

“All dishes are served, enjoy your meal.”

“Yao Zhao, is there anyone else coming?” someone asked.

Yao Zhao ambiguously responded with a “hmm,” saying, “Everyone’s hungry, let’s eat first.”

Song Qitao’s eyes were fixed on a plate of fried pork belly. Hearing they could eat, he put on gloves.

The pork belly was solid and chunky, a bit greasy to eat plain, so he wrapped it in a lettuce leaf, added some sauce, and rolled it into a half-fist-sized veggie roll.

He took a big, satisfying bite. He loved fried pork belly, but the takeout near the school was all fried chicken, with different meat textures and flavors.

Just then, the private room door was knocked twice, and a latecomer pushed open the wooden door.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Song Qitao’s mind was filled with the crunching sound of biting into pork belly and lettuce, fully immersed, only finding the voice somewhat familiar.

The private room was a ten-person table, with six people seated, leaving spaces between each.

The newcomer sat directly between Yao Zhao and Song Qitao, and his tall figure made the space feel cramped. The others quickly moved their chairs to make room.

Song Qitao swallowed a mouthful of meat, smiling as he turned his head, meeting Meng Sicheng’s increasingly handsome face.

Huh? Wasn’t Meng Sicheng in Beijing City? Up north! Were he and Yao Zhao so close that he came all the way south for his birthday?

Did Meng Sicheng remember what happened at the hotel last time? He should have blacked out, right?

Song Qitao’s spine stiffened, not daring to meet Meng Sicheng’s gaze.

Yao Zhao stood up, patting Meng Sicheng’s shoulder, “It’s been a while since we all met. It’s a coincidence today, Meng Sicheng came to our city for a competition. Did the results come out? Are you first place?”

“Competition? Is it the Mathematical Ability Challenge?” Lin Feiliu, also a math major, sighed, “Only the top hundred nationwide make it to the finals, I didn’t make it.”

Huang Hao, studying computer science, had heard of the competition, “It’s normal, it’s not just about math, it’s about math and algorithms.”

It’s not a national-level competition, but with big companies backing it, scouting talent, the top few get a direct pass to big company R&D positions.

Others might be there for the direct pass, but Meng Sicheng traveled all the way south for a commercial competition final?

Yao Zhao looked at Meng Sicheng suspiciously. He only found out at noon that Meng Sicheng was coming and suggested a meal together when he learned Meng Sicheng would stay overnight.

He thought Meng Sicheng didn’t like crowds, so he didn’t invite others, but Meng Sicheng remembered it was his birthday and suggested inviting classmates from No. 7 Middle School.

Yao Zhao was touched.

Meng Sicheng succinctly explained, “I’ve been interested in algorithms lately.”

Song Qitao was surprised, so he was here for an exam.

Huang Hao: “Tiring, right? I heard it’s a six-hour exam.”

Just imagining it made Song Qitao think Meng Sicheng was getting scarier. Six hours, two more than four hours.

Lin Feiliu seemed to be back in senior year, unable to resist asking Meng Sicheng for advice, “How did you design the last question in the preliminaries? I had no clue.”

Meng Sicheng thought for a moment and briefly explained his approach.

Is this how science guys hang out? Song Qitao was amazed. He forgave Meng Sicheng for forcing him to check answers after drinking, realizing that remembering answers was part of Meng Sicheng’s routine.

Song Qitao chewed on the crispy pork belly, like a family member tagging along for a meal, ignoring the competition and focusing on the pork belly.

Thankfully, Yao Zhao couldn’t listen anymore and instructed the front desk to bring up his cake.

Yao Zhao’s birthday cake was shaped like a giant peach, white with a hint of red, round and plump, with a lifelike peach tip.

The simpler the design, the more it tested the skill of spreading the cream.

Yao Zhao sighed, “My mom ordered this classic, timeless cake.”

“Who will take a photo of me making a wish?”

Lin Feiliu and Huang Hao were eager, “I’ll do it!”

Yao Zhao pointed at Song Qitao, “No straight guy photography skills, Maotao, you do it, make the composition nice.”

Song Qitao hadn’t studied photography, but he knew a bit about composition, taking an atmospheric photo of Yao Zhao with the giant peach.

After the ceremony, Yao Zhao cut the cake along the peach’s middle line, revealing a filling of crispy pearls, tapioca pearls, raisins, and mango chunks that spilled out.

Song Qitao licked his lips, waiting for his share of the cake.

He loved this dessert combination, and an iced milk tea would make it even better.

Yao Zhao distributed the cake, “Anyone want to drink? I have a bottle stored here, let’s finish it today.”

Meng Sicheng was about to suggest switching to iced milk tea when Yao Zhao told him, “You don’t have to drink, you can have juice.”

Song Qitao also wanted juice, but he could handle alcohol, and not drinking at all would be disrespectful to the birthday star. Yao Zhao was sharing his treasured wine out of goodwill, so he had to join in for a glass.

“I’ll pour a bit of wine too.”

Everyone toasted, and Yao Zhao asked, “It’s junior year, does anyone have plans? Staying in Nancheng or going back to Haicheng?”

Song Qitao focused on himself, not speaking first, sensing that Meng Sicheng glanced at him.

Huang Hao spoke up first, subtly boasting about having a girlfriend, “My girlfriend is a local, so I’ll stay here for work.”

Lin Feiliu said, “I might be able to secure a spot for graduate school here.”

Another classmate, whom Song Qitao didn’t know, said, “I’ll go wherever a company wants me, any city is fine.”

With work locations set, once they left student life, friendships would mostly scatter across the country.

Yao Zhao lamented, “Really? No one is sure about going back to Haicheng? Meng Sicheng, you have to go back and inherit the family business, right?”

Meng Sicheng “hmm”ed, glancing at Song Qitao, “Maybe.”

Yao Zhao asked Song Qitao, “What about you? You’re definitely going back, right? You’re as homesick as I am.”

Song Qitao had parents and a sister in Hai City, so of course, he planned to return, but he was inexplicably nervous, afraid of overlapping with Meng Sicheng and triggering memories of “hands overlapping.”

“I… quite like the climate here.”

After saying that, his cheeks felt hot. Heaven knows, he really disliked the hot and sticky southern summer air.

Meng Sicheng looked thoughtful, lowering his gaze.

Huang Hao, having boasted about his relationship, noticed no one was envious, “Aren’t you all considering relationships?”

Lin Feiliu retorted, “If you brag one more time, I’ll be the third wheel.”

Huang Hao laughed, “I’m just asking, come on, you all look better than me, how are you still single? It’s not logical, especially you, Meng Sicheng.”

Yao Zhao’s eyes twinkled, “Meng Sicheng, I suspect you have someone you like.”

Meng Sicheng: “…”

Yao Zhao: “Wow, you didn’t deny it right away!”

Yao Zhao: “You really do!”

Meng Sicheng: “No.”

Yao Zhao: “Lying to your bros, huh? If I weren’t going abroad and didn’t want a long-distance relationship, I’d have started dating already.”

Meng Sicheng: “Maybe in two years.”

Yao Zhao leaned in, teasing in a low voice, “Two years, that’s quite specific. Do you have some lifelong plan?”

Meng Sicheng denied, “No, at twenty, you can’t decide how your life will go.”

He couldn’t, and neither could he.