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In the following two days, Zhuang Zi’ang behaved himself and didn’t take any more leave.
Opportunities to meet Xiao Butterfly were scarce; they could only have lunch together and take a short nap.
Of course, the afternoon nap was purely a literal interpretation.
During the day, Xiao Butterfly would quickly reply to his messages.
But as soon as night fell, she would vanish without a trace.
Zhuang Zi’ang had grown accustomed to her peculiar habits.
It was normal for a girl to have stricter family rules.
On Friday after school, Zhuang Zi’ang saw Little Butterfly off at the bus stop.
With time to spare, he sat on the platform for a while, quietly watching the red sun at the horizon.
The sunset was infinitely beautiful, but it was nearing dusk.
He had never noticed how lovely the evening glow could be.
A familiar silhouette approached — it was the academically gifted but somewhat clueless Deng Haijun.
“Zhuang Zi’ang, do you have any plans for tonight?” he asked.
Zhuang Zi’ang shook his head.
Deng Haijun was overjoyed. “That’s great! Come with me to the library to tackle some competition problems. There are a few questions I only want to discuss with you.”
To the average student, solving physics competition problems was far from normal.
Only students like them, with extraordinary talent, could share such common ground.
With nothing else to do, Zhuang Zi’ang nodded in agreement.
However, Deng Haijun had no sense of social niceties.
It was almost dark; couldn’t he at least treat someone to a snack before going?
The library was filled with happy memories of Zhuang Zi’ang and Little Butterfly.
Passing by a convenience store, he specifically bought a bag of fruit-flavored hard candies.
“You, a grown man, bringing candy into the library? Isn’t that a bit childish?” Deng Haijun complained.
“You’ll understand one day,” Zhuang Zi’ang said cryptically.
When someone suddenly becomes foolishly happy, it usually means they’ve encountered love.
But his love had a tinge of melancholy.
After finding a seat in the library, Deng Haijun pulled out some reference books and began to work on the physics competition problems.
At first, he was completely focused and ignored Zhuang Zi’ang.
It wasn’t until Deng Haijun encountered a difficult problem that he looked over at Zhuang Zi’ang, only to find him engrossed in a phonetic version of a children’s joke book, thoroughly enjoying himself.
A spring-like smile adorned Zhuang Zi’ang’s face.
“Are you out of your mind?” Deng Haijun remarked.
“I never realized before, but now I find that reading joke books really relaxes me,” Zhuang Zi’ang chuckled.
The problem Deng Haijun was struggling with was related to speed; it was indeed quite challenging. Zhuang Zi’ang took a pen and repeatedly worked it out on scrap paper, discussing it with Deng Haijun for a long time before finally solving it.
Both felt a sense of accomplishment; it was a joy unique to top students.
Deng Haijun stared at the densely packed formulas on the scrap paper, then glanced at the reference book beside him, and suddenly had a lightbulb moment. “Zhuang Zi’ang, do you think time travel really exists?”
Time travel had always been a hot topic in the scientific community, with countless scientists proposing various hypotheses and conjectures.
For instance, the famous Stephen Hawking proposed three ways to achieve time travel: wormholes, black holes, and traveling at the speed of light.
He even hosted a “time travel dinner,” inviting people from the future, but unfortunately, no one showed up after waiting for several hours.
Compared to time travel, people were more familiar with another term — “crossing over.”
In web novels, this was a large and imaginative genre filled with creativity and fun.
“Of course, people can travel through time,” Zhuang Zi’ang nodded with a smile.
“Have you ever seen a time traveler? What’s the theoretical basis for that?” Deng Haijun asked with utmost seriousness.
“I’m just guessing. What theoretical basis could there possibly be? So many scientists can’t figure it out; do we really need to discuss it with our limited wisdom?” Zhuang Zi’ang rolled his eyes.
“I heard there’s a place called Blue Star, where thousands of time travelers live, making a living by copying songs and poems,” Deng Haijun mumbled.
Zhuang Zi’ang couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t expected this serious bookworm to have read a bit of web fiction.
If he traced it back, it should be a man named Xiang who went to help Qin Shi Huang unify the world.
The wheels of destiny began to turn.
After ending that discussion, Zhuang Zi’ang returned to reading his silly jokes, while Deng Haijun continued to tackle the difficult problems, occasionally discussing them until the closing music of the library rang out.
Once they were outside, Deng Haijun asked seriously, “Zhuang Zi’ang, are you really not going to participate in the physics competition?”
Zhuang Zi’ang looked at his comrade, with whom he had fought side by side many times, and gently patted his shoulder. “Haijun, work hard. You will definitely achieve your dreams and become an excellent scientist.”
“And you? Are you abandoning us?” Deng Haijun questioned.
“Even if I can’t participate, I’ll be cheering for you all in my heart,” Zhuang Zi’ang said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Even if Deng Haijun was dense, he could sense something was off with Zhuang Zi’ang.
But no matter how much he pressed, Zhuang Zi’ang refused to reveal the reason.
“Alright, I hope you can live happily according to your own wishes,” Deng Haijun waved goodbye to Zhuang Zi’ang and turned to leave.
As Zhuang Zi’ang watched his retreating figure, a sense of sadness washed over him. Suddenly, he shouted, “Haijun, if you ever achieve time travel, please go back eighteen years and find my mom to tell her I didn’t want to come to this world!”
“Are you crazy? Why would you say such a thing?” Deng Haijun shouted back, turning around.
“Yeah, I’m pretty messed up,” Zhuang Zi’ang laughed as he waved, talking to himself.
The library wasn’t too far from the school, so Zhuang Zi’ang planned to walk back and enjoy the night breeze.
In the distance, the large bridge sparkled with colorful lights, reflecting on the water and creating a beautiful night scene for the city.
Traffic flowed endlessly on the road, and bright lights shone from shop windows.
Though it was already nighttime, the world remained bustling and noisy.
As he walked up to an overpass, he noticed many street vendors set up stalls.
There was a young man specializing in phone screen protectors, an elderly woman selling sewing supplies, and a street musician playing the guitar and singing.
The most eye-catching was a middle-aged man in a long robe wearing a pair of reading glasses, holding a flag with the words “Zhang Bansian” written on it.
Below that were smaller words about fortune-telling, character analysis, and feng shui.
On the yellow cloth spread out in front of him were various items like safety charms, longevity locks, and bagua mirrors.
“Young man, would you like to have your fortune told?” Zhang Bansian called out to Zhuang Zi’ang.
Zhuang Zi’ang stopped in his tracks, surprised to see the man. “How is it you?”
Zhang Bansian recognized him too and chuckled, “Young man, we seem to be quite fated.”
It turned out this was none other than the fortune teller from Xiaoyao Palace who had interpreted his fortune that day.
The same “old con man” that Xiao Butterfly had mentioned.
Zhuang Zi’ang asked curiously, “Why are you out here setting up a stall instead of being at Xiaoyao Palace?”
With a hint of frustration, Zhang Bansian replied, “Business is tough these days. People are restless. I need to take on another job to make ends meet!”
Zhuang Zi’ang had never believed in fortune-telling, and he didn’t want to waste money again, so he planned to politely excuse himself and leave.
But Zhang Bansian grabbed his arm. “No charge! Do you want to see if I can guess your surname?”
“What surname?” Zhuang Zi’ang’s interest was piqued.
“Southward looks to the solitary star as the moon rises.” Zhang Bansian swayed his head dramatically.
Someone who makes a living this way isn’t likely to speak plainly.
Zhuang Zi’ang frowned. “Are you trying to play a riddle with me?”