Chapter 104: Gaokao (Request Subscription!)

Did you get a good look at the boy’s face?

Song Shi asked.

Jiang Yue frowned: “He’s got strong counter-surveillance skills—he’s standing with his back to the tree and I can’t see his face at all. Is his family in law enforcement?”

Song Shi laughed helplessly, went inside with his wife, poured a cup of tea, and casually sat on the sofa with a newspaper.

The couple appeared to be sipping tea and reading, but their attention was fixed on the doorway.

Soon, the courtyard gate creaked open.

As footsteps drew near, the sound of a key unlocking came from outside.

Another creak—and Song Yu appeared at the door. She left her umbrella on the corridor outside and called in: “Dad, Mom.”

The couple promptly set down their newspapers. Jiang Yue stood up and asked: “Have you eaten? Why are you back so late?”

Song Yu said: “I just finished dinner with Mai Sui and some other classmates. I’m going back to school after grabbing something—these are the last few days of high school, I want to spend more time with everyone.”

The couple exchanged a silent glance, both surprised their daughter was lying—there was definitely something going on.

After all, they were sharing one umbrella—could there be nothing unusual about that?

Jiang Yue’s heart suddenly felt hollow. Her daughter had grown up—girls don’t stay under their mothers’ wings forever.

Though filled with doubts and reluctance, neither chose to confront her. Jiang Yue probed: “Should your dad and I walk you there?”

Song Yu hesitated, then said: “No, a classmate is waiting for me outside.”

In the past, Jiang Yue might have automatically asked: “Who?”

But now?

She didn’t ask. To ask would only make her heart heavier—and leave her with no way out.

Song Yu went to her room, grabbed a jade Guanyin, exchanged a few pleasantries with her parents, and left the house.

Jiang Yue saw her to the front gate, then stood there staring as her daughter opened the courtyard gate and walked down the steps—suddenly feeling lost.

Back inside, the couple stopped pretending—they couldn’t go on.

After a while, Jiang Yue, unwilling to give up, grabbed an umbrella and went back under the grapevine to look out. She could still see the two distant figures.

One umbrella, two people, walking slowly through the rain.

“Did you get a good look this time?” Song Shi asked, stepping out behind her.

Jiang Yue shook her head. “No. But I memorized his silhouette—tall guys like that aren’t common. If I see him again, I’ll probably recognize him.”

She blurted out, “Should I go to No. 1 High tomorrow under the pretense of delivering vegetables?”

But as soon as she said it, she shook her head herself and returned inside, frustrated.

Maybe she could find him—but then what?

At this critical moment, she could do nothing.

Jiang Yue lay awake all night, tossing and turning. She asked her husband: “Why didn’t your daughter take an umbrella with her?”

Song Shi pondered: “Probably so you wouldn’t suspect anything.”

Jiang Yue said: “But I already suspect.”

Song Shi smiled bitterly.

After a silence, Jiang Yue suddenly said: “No, I have to go deliver vegetables tomorrow.”

Song Shi could almost feel his wife’s torment. After thinking, he advised: “Even if you find him, don’t expose him.”

Jiang Yue felt the same. “I know.”

On the other side.

Li Heng asked: “Did your parents suspect anything?”

Song Yu glanced at him, walked ten steps forward, then asked: “Are you afraid they’ll suspect?”

Li Heng replied firmly: “No.”

Song Yu fell silent, and didn’t speak again for a long time.

As they turned a corner, just before reaching the school gate, she suddenly stopped and handed him the jade Guanyin she’d been clutching in her palm:

“This is the jade Guanyin I got from a temple last time I climbed the mountain with Man Ning and the others—we prayed for good luck on the Gaokao. Take it. I wish you success!”

He’d nearly forgotten about it.

Before the holiday, Sun Manning had strongly invited him to climb the mountain, saying they’d pray at a temple for Gaokao luck—and even used Song Yu to lure him. He’d refused.

He’d joked then: “Let Song Yu pray for me—I won’t go.”

“Thank you.”

Li Heng said thanks, then bent slightly, standing still and waiting.

Song Yu instantly understood his intention. She stared into his eyes for a long, long time, then suddenly asked: “Li Heng, do you understand me?”

Li Heng opened his mouth, then closed it. He wanted to say so much—but finally just said one word: “Yes.”

“Mm.”

Satisfied with his answer, Song Yu softly murmured, then stretched out the red cord of the jade Guanyin and hung it around his neck.

After finishing, she looked away and fell into quiet stillness.

Li Heng felt her tension and inner turmoil. He didn’t press further, opened the umbrella, and said gently: “The rain’s gotten heavier. Let’s hurry back to school.”

Song Yu softly replied: “Okay.”

For the rest of the way, they walked in silence.

Until they reached the school gate, beside the rock garden. Li Heng handed her the umbrella: “I’ll only walk you this far. I’m heading back to the dorm.”

As soon as he spoke, he dashed off—giving her no emotional burden.

She watched his back until it vanished a hundred meters away, then slowly lowered her gaze.

But she didn’t leave right away. She stood there for several minutes before returning to her dorm.

She asked herself: Li Heng, do you understand me?

Li Heng said yes—so he gave her maximum emotional freedom, no longer pressing her.

That night, Mai Sui caught a cold from the rain and developed a low fever.

Song Yu panicked. She took her to the school clinic for medicine, then regretfully said:

“The Gaokao’s coming soon—why did you get soaked? We could’ve just found somewhere to hide and sent him back to Hongqi Road to buy an umbrella.”

Mai Sui kept laughing: “It’s fine. I’ll sleep it off and be fine tomorrow. I just think Li Heng’s great—he’s so talented, and you’re so beautiful and elegant. You two are perfect together. I didn’t want you to regret it.”

Song Yu poured her a cup of hot water: “Drink more. Try to sweat tonight.”

Mai Sui obediently drank the whole cup in three gulps. Then, as she set the cup down, she asked the question she’d held inside for so long:

“Have he and Chen Zijin broken up?”

Song Yu nodded, then shook her head.

Mai Sui frowned: “What does that mean?”

Song Yu picked up the teapot and poured her another cup: “He and Zijin haven’t contacted each other for a long time—they were in that gray area between broken up and not quite broken up. But after his ‘To Live’ was published, they got back in touch.”

Mai Sui stared at her, hands wrapped around her cup. After a long pause, she sighed: “If I were you, I wouldn’t be the middleman.”

Song Yu shook her head gently: “It doesn’t matter. Not just because of how I feel about him—Xiao Han has always liked him.”

Mai Sui’s eyes widened. She’d never known this: “How do you know?”

Song Yu said: “Zijin told me. She and Xiao Han have been rivals since middle school.”

Mai Sui blurted: “All because of Li Heng?”

Song Yu smiled faintly, word by word: “All because of Li Heng.”

Mai Sui realized she’d overstepped and laughed softly: “I didn’t mean to belittle him—it’s just… that’s Xiao Han.”

Objectively speaking, she’s not much less beautiful than you. She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. She always seems so aloof—how could she?

How did she start competing over him in middle school?”

Song Yu fell silent, then teased: “Maybe it’s like the story of one monk carrying water.”

Mai Sui instantly understood: “The more people want it, the more desirable it becomes?”

The two girls looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

July 4th.

In the morning, Jiang Yue came to No. 1 High under the pretense of delivering vegetables—but found nothing. She lingered for hours without seeing Li Heng’s silhouette.

It puzzled her greatly.

When she spotted Song Yu heading to the boiler room for hot water, Jiang Yue remembered something and asked Mai Sui, who was resting on her bed: “Mai Sui, where did you and Yu Bao have dinner last night?”

Mai Sui didn’t think twice: “Auntie, we ate on Hongqi Road.”

Hearing that Mai Sui had indeed dined with her daughter, Jiang Yue was surprised, and probed further: “Was it a dorm gathering?

I came to your dorm in the evening looking for Yu Bao—none of you were there.”

Mai Sui had been about to say, “No, just the three of us,” but the words caught in her throat—something felt off. Why ask her instead of Song Yu?

She connected it to Li Heng’s pursuit of Song Yu.

She remembered yesterday’s route had circled nearly the entire Shaoshan Normal College…

Mai Sui instantly grew wary and changed her answer: “No, we all ate together last night—the close friends.”

Jiang Yue was about to ask who exactly.

But she realized—if she pressed further, she’d give herself away.

Wait a little longer, she thought. After the Gaokao, her daughter would bring home the graduation photo—then she’d see.

Still unwilling to give up, Jiang Yue walked alone around the classroom building and the playground—but still saw no one. She left, dejected.

As soon as Jiang Yue left, Mai Sui immediately told Song Yu: “Your mom just asked me about last night’s dinner.”

Song Yu asked, “How did you answer?”

Mai Sui repeated the earlier conversation.

Song Yu fell into thought after hearing it.

Mai Sui asked, “What? Did you two get spotted on your way back?”

Song Yu said, “I’m not sure, but the most likely possibility is that they didn’t recognize Li Heng.”

Mai Sui worried for her friend: “If your parents ask about it later, what will you say?”

Song Yu replied quietly, “I’ll tell the truth.”

Mai Sui asked, “Will you tell them he’s chasing you?”

Song Yu shook her head slightly. “They know Li Heng and Chen Zijin are dating. I never accepted him.”

Mai Sui understood: nine parts truth, one part lie—that was the highest art of lying.

Three days remained until the college entrance exam, but Li Heng didn’t feel the tension, excitement, or dread others did.

He woke up on time every day, ate meals punctually, and went to bed at the right hour.

He read books and did exercises as usual, focusing especially on reviewing his three-year accumulation of “error logs.”

He felt he’d gained a lot.

He didn’t deliberately seek out Song Yu or Xiao Han.

Since both girls lived in the same dormitory building—one on the third floor, one on the second—running into either now could ruin his exam performance.

At this critical moment, he absolutely couldn’t slip up.

On the afternoon of the 4th, Li Heng went to the Moral Education Building to scout the exam site—it was on campus, and he returned in under ten minutes.

On the 5th and 6th, he stayed in his dorm reading and solving problems to keep his edge.

On the evening of the 6th, the English teacher asked Zhou Shihe, who managed the dorms, to call Li Heng downstairs: “How are you feeling now?”

Li Heng answered, “Teacher, don’t worry—I’m doing fine.”

“Good. Have you prepared your exam supplies?” Wang Run asked.

Li Heng nodded. “All set. Everything’s in one bag.”

Hearing this, Wang Run turned toward the faculty housing complex. “I made dinner. Come eat with me.”

“Oh, alright.”

He suddenly felt a pang of emotion.

High school was ending like this—would he ever have another chance to eat with this teacher, who had always treated him so kindly?

Both seemed burdened with thoughts; they climbed the third floor in silence, saying little.

He unlocked the door. It opened.

After changing shoes, Wang Run went to her bedroom and pulled out a letter and two bank drafts.

Li Heng took them and saw the letter was from reader Huang Zhao, and the drafts were from the magazine “Shouhuo.”

One draft showed 1,350 yuan—the royalty payment for “Wanbao.”

The other was 2,500 yuan—the royalty from Shanghai Radio Broadcasting for “To Live.”

He never took money lightly; he double-checked both drafts twice before tucking them into his undershirt pocket.

As for the reader’s letter—it felt thick—but he didn’t want to open it now. He didn’t want to be distracted. He’d read it after the exam.

The table was laden with food: three hearty meat dishes and one bowl of bok choy.

There was also a scallion egg soup.

Wang Run, rarely serving two bowls of soup at once, unexpectedly handed him one and said:

“This afternoon, editor Zou Ping called. He knew you were preparing for the exam, so he didn’t bother you.”

Li Heng asked, “What did he say?”

Wang Run replied, “He came to congratulate you. ‘To Live’’s standalone edition is selling like wildfire—within five days, the first print run of 300,000 copies sold out.”

“Every day, dozens of calls and letters flood into ‘Shouhuo,’ demanding reprints. The publisher plans to print another 300,000 copies.”

Li Heng was thrilled. “Really?”

Seeing his joy, Wang Run smiled and nodded.

Li Heng beamed. “The royalty contract was signed for 300,000 copies—so that means the royalty clause has already triggered? Am I really the first writer to get royalties?”

Hearing “big shot,” Wang Run pushed back her hair. “Probably.”

She withheld something else: because the royalty clause had triggered, newspapers were flooded with coverage—some praising, some condemning.

Unlike before, when praise dominated, now many articles criticized him—as if someone were secretly stoking the fire.

Wang Run feared he’d buy newspapers to read, so she warned: “Don’t get distracted by outside matters. Don’t read the papers. Focus on your exam.”

She shouldn’t have mentioned it today—but after weighing it, she did. She knew Li Heng had a habit of reading newspapers.

Li Heng sensed something, but as a man who’d lived two lives, he was as calm as a dog on a leash. As long as the money landed in his pocket—and it was a lot—he didn’t care what they said. Let them talk. It wouldn’t cost him a single hair.

Right now, I’m not strong enough to challenge you—but later, I’ll slap your faces with one brilliant novel after another.

300,000 copies. Each priced at 3 yuan.

What’s 5% royalty again?

He calculated mentally: 45,000 yuan.

Holy shit! 45,000 yuan!

He couldn’t claim to be the richest man in town—after all, some gold-diggers got rich fast—but even by money alone, he was definitely a major figure.

He could now chat with every girl in Shangwan Village. Damn it! No one would dare hide their daughters anymore.

Such thoughts were crude as hell—but they gave him a sense of vindication.

And

And this was only the first batch. There would be more—didn’t they just say another 300,000 copies were being printed?

He exhaled, his joy spilling over. He finished the bowl of scallion egg soup with a grin.

Wang Run had quietly calculated his royalties earlier; her gaze held a hint of envy.

She asked him, “What are your plans for summer vacation?”

Li Heng paused. “First, I’ll go home. Then I’m going to Jingcheng.”

Wang Run realized. “To the Chen family? To find Chen Zijin?”

Li Heng corrected her. “I’m going to find Chen Zijin—but not at the Chen family home.”

Wang Run looked puzzled.

This teacher was one of the few people in the world who genuinely cared for him without expecting anything in return. After thinking for a moment, Li Heng explained the conflict between Zhong Lan and his mother.

After listening, Wang Run sighed—but offered no judgment. She only asked, “When are you going? Should I buy your train ticket?”

She said “train ticket,” not “airplane ticket.”

Because she couldn’t get an airplane ticket—not because of money, but because she lacked the qualifications.

Li Heng had already decided: “I’ll stay home for three days, then leave.”

He calculated: the exam was on the 7th, 8th, and 9th. One day for the trip home.

Wang Run said, “Then I’ll buy you a ticket for July 15th.”

“Will you be able to get one?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Alright, thank you, Teacher. Please pay for the ticket for now—I’ll reimburse you later,” Li Heng said.

Wang Run adjusted her glasses, nodded, and urged him to eat.

After finishing their talk, they fell silent again, just like on the way here.

Li Heng wanted to break the quiet—but seeing the English teacher focused entirely on her meal, he gave up and joined her in eating.

There was plenty of food—each dish was generously portioned—but Li Heng, the food lover, ate even more: he cleared two meat dishes in one go, then patted his belly contentedly and put down his chopsticks.

He hadn’t planned to eat so much.

But seeing how much the teacher seemed to enjoy watching him eat, he forced himself to eat a little extra. After all, he was so thin—gaining ten pounds wouldn’t bother him at all.

More importantly, his past-life experience told him he and his second sister were both naturally thin—so why not eat as much as he wanted?

After the meal, they finally resumed talking.

Li Heng asked, “Teacher, what are your plans for summer vacation?”

Wang Run shook her head, looking blank.

Li Heng joked lightly, “How about coming with me to Jingcheng? There’s so much to see there.”

Wang Run glanced sideways at him. “Go where? To be your and Chen Zijin’s third wheel?”

Li Heng laughed. “You’re not bald—you’re not even qualified to be a third wheel. I’m off. Thanks for dinner, Teacher.”

He left immediately. Outside, it was already dark. He remembered Sun Man’s warning: never linger at the English teacher’s house after dark.

He didn’t care much—he was leaving in a few days anyway. But she was rooted here. He had to mind his reputation.

That night, the 215 dorm residents gathered again.

Perhaps due to extreme tension, the atmosphere was heavy. Everyone washed up and climbed into bed, unusually silent. They listened to the old ceiling fan creaking as it turned, slowly drifting to sleep.

The next day was July 7th—the first day of the college entrance exam.

As usual, Li Heng woke at 6:20 a.m., washed up, ate breakfast, then took a refreshing stroll outside.

The dorm atmosphere was suffocating.

He could feel Liu Li, Zou Ai, and Liu Yejiang grinding their teeth—nervousness and hope mixed together: they longed to shine in the exam and outperform their roommates, yet feared this single test would decide their fate.

Around 8 a.m., Li Heng appeared at the Moral Education Building.

He didn’t expect to run into Mai Sui, who was also here for the exam.

“You’re here.”

“Mm.”

“Relax, do your best, and good luck on the exam!” Mai Sui encouraged him.

Li Heng nodded. “You too, do well, don’t stress, get into Peking University.”

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(End of chapter)