Chapter 5: The Water

The next morning, Xu Qingzhou was woken by a frantic alarm clock; he checked the time: 6:20.

Morning self-study begins at 7:10.

He got up, pulled back the curtains, and orange-yellow sunlight streamed through the window, spilling across the bedroom.

He opened the door; his mother had already prepared breakfast: buns and lean pork porridge.

Wang Xiaping works at the street office and is now a deputy director; her schedule is much more relaxed than before.

After eating, he greeted his mother, put on his clean uniform, and stepped outside.

The weather was clear; sunlight pierced through the plane trees and scattered onto the ground, occasional cars gliding between their shade, dappled light glinting brilliantly, sparse pedestrians and students in uniforms.

Read! {

Song Yao.

The green light turned on.

But boys’ legs are longer; within minutes, he vanished from Song Yao’s sight.

“I already went over the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions last class, and briefly touched on problems 15 and 16.”

He could solve these problems, but his solution methods still differed somewhat from high school.

“Crackdown?” Xu Qingzhou looked up, then understood Guo Zi’s meaning. At this time, there were too many loopholes; internet cafes mainly served underage students who used temporary cards.

Yet he quickly spotted a beautiful back view in the crowd—it was Song Yao—and followed her toward the left side of the playground.

“Good morning, Xu Qingzhou.”

Seeing Xu Qingzhou enter, she glanced at him, startled, then snorted coldly and became even warmer toward Zhang Yuquan; what made her angrier was that Xu Qingzhou’s expression remained calm, as if nothing had happened, as he returned to his seat. Zhang Yuquan spoke softly and explained things thoroughly.

She wiped the surprise from her face and hurried after him.

This guy. Song Yao pressed her lips together and followed silently behind.

Xu Qingzhou waved, slightly embarrassed—he recognized them, but couldn’t recall their names.

Mathematics is the language of science, the foundation of all natural disciplines. He previously focused on physics; his later research data relied heavily on the team’s math experts.

The first two morning classes were math; the teacher, Liao Hui, was a middle-aged man in his forties, short, with a U-shaped bald patch, always holding a transparent teacup.

“I just explained this type of problem—how come so many students still can’t solve it?”

Song Yao also noticed Xu Qingzhou approaching, but she didn’t expect him to break from his usual silence—he nodded in greeting, then stood calmly beside her.

Indeed beautiful. Even after seeing many beauties, Xu Qingzhou couldn’t help but admire her; no wonder so many pursued her.

【Thus there are sighs. The ancients, when observing heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, grasses and trees, insects and fish, birds and beasts, often gained insight, because their quest for understanding was profound and all-encompassing.】

The traffic light’s numbers flickered: 15, 14, 13... Staring at the light, Song Yao’s face remained stiff, expressionless, thinking she’d walk faster later to put distance between herself and Xu Qingzhou.

Liao Hui held the test paper, scratching his already thinning forehead: “Alright, problem 17: Let the function $f(x)=\log_{\frac{1}{2}}(x^2-4x+5)$, and the set $a={x|f(x)\geq\log_{\frac{1}{2}}(a^2-2a-3)}$.”

From the speaker, a soothing tune played; two students stood in the hallway eating breakfast, word books placed on the outer windowsill, memorizing words as they ate.

Classical Chinese, once dull to him, now carried an unexpected rhythm, calming his mind.

He remembered: in their third year after graduation, the hallways, balconies, and rooftops were all sealed off with iron railings.

Good.

As he walked, Xu Qingzhou suddenly noticed a familiar figure standing at the corner traffic light.

Huh? Song Yao had just stepped forward when a breeze carrying soap scent brushed past; by the time she reacted, the boy had already walked off in long strides.

Guo Zi lay sprawled on his desk, utterly defeated, waving his hand: “Don’t mention it—damn, caught in a crackdown, couldn’t escape.”

Watching the figure disappear around the corner, Song Yao pressed her lips together, slowed her pace, her beautiful face clouded with annoyance. Had she... misread the situation? 6:55 a.m.

Take the final problem, for example—he first thought of L’Hôpital’s Rule, deriving numerator and denominator separately to find the limit and determine the indeterminate value; the test’s answer used a simpler, more understandable method, but with far more complex steps. Warm guy? He’d rank behind a dog. Xu Qingzhou sighed inwardly, sat down, pulled out his Chinese textbook—he’d just read “A Tour of Baochan Mountain” yesterday.

“Went in, my dad picked me up, and he lectured me until one o’clock—blame that idiot internet cafe attendant for locking the back door.”

A hard-to-describe feeling—just... steady?

Xu Qingzhou walked quickly; the distance between them kept widening.

For Xu Qingzhou, morning exercises were over twenty years in the past—he couldn’t even find his own class’s formation.

Back when he was in class, Xu Qingzhou often got distracted by the shine on Liao’s forehead.

More people arrived; the classroom buzzed with recitations—chaotic, yet oddly comforting.

!.

Gazing at the familiar school buildings, playground, cafeteria—Xu Qingzhou felt a flood of emotion.

Beside him, Guo Zi propped his head up, hidden behind towering books, half-asleep.

Years of being approached and pursued had made her adept at avoiding such ambiguous situations.

They reached the ground floor; the soccer field, basketball court, and running track were packed with people.

Wearing a blue-and-white uniform jacket, still with a simple high ponytail, her eyes clear and pure, skin pale, expression icy—she was the classic celibate high school girl, a few fine strands of hair falling over her forehead, glowing faintly in the sunlight.

Xu Qingzhou had no intention of getting close.

The classroom already held over a dozen people: some with eyes closed reciting, some eating breakfast at their desks, others chatting.

Internet cafe owners likely had their own methods; when police launched crackdowns, the cafes received advance warnings and cleared out underage patrons.

After class, Guo Zi perked up again; on the way downstairs, he kept glancing at Xu Qingzhou, puzzled: “Zhouzi, you’ve been acting weird these past few days—could love really make someone grow up?”

Xu Qingzhou smiled faintly, saying nothing.

Zhang Yuxin had arrived too, discussing physics problems with Zhang Yuquan.

“Did you sneak out to steal chickens or pet dogs last night?” Xu Qingzhou asked without looking up.

The two walked one behind the other, five meters apart.

Now that he’d been reborn, who the hell wastes time on this nonsense? Career matters most.

This time, perhaps he could start from mathematics.

Two more minutes passed; Guo Zi arrived, slumping into his seat the moment he entered.

Guo Zi grumbled a few curses, then dreamed of the future: “Just hold on a few more months—once we get to university, it’ll be better.”

Feels like a prison.

After math class came morning exercises; students chattered noisily as they went downstairs.

Song Yao entered the classroom, her gaze gliding unobtrusively over Xu Qingzhou, who was buried in his book; she sat down, exhaled, and pulled out her English textbook.

Xu Qingzhou pulled out a stack of math tests; Liao Hui was teaching the first one—it was last month’s minor exam.

“Good morning.”

First task: review the solution methods for all high school subjects.

Guo Zi was still pondering, catching up to Xu Qingzhou, studying his expression, then nodding: “Love is great—I should give it a try too.”

“If you try, you might actually die?” Xu Qingzhou stopped, turned, patted his shoulder, and said solemnly: “Fatty, listen to me—your teens and twenties are for lifting yourself out of poverty, not for finding love. The waters here are too deep—you can’t handle them.”

After speaking, he walked toward the formation where Song Yao was standing; after taking a few steps, he turned back, "By the way, which position am I supposed to stand in?"

This time, Guo Zi was truly dissuaded.

Love doesn’t just make you grow—it turns you into an idiot.

(End of Chapter)