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1
In every class, there’s always that one straight-A male idol. Xinbao’s class was no exception—his name was Wang Jiashu.
Wang Jiashu wasn’t just academically gifted; he was tall, fair-skinned, and handsome. When he played the piano, his focused expression was utterly captivating. The melodies flowing from his fingertips were like gentle streams, enchanting everyone who listened. A student as accomplished and well-rounded as him truly deserved the title of “school idol.”
One day, Xinbao came home from school and said mysteriously, “Do you know what? Wang Jiashu is my new desk partner. When I handed in my homework, he handed his in too.”
Another time, she returned home and shared, “Today we had a vocabulary dictation, and I didn’t finish mine. Wang Jiashu walked over and said to me after he handed in his test, ‘Hurry up, you can do it!’” She recounted this with an air of satisfaction.
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2
Xinbao’s homeroom teacher asked the students to bring their favorite toys and record a video to upload to the class group chat. The girls mostly held plush dolls, while the boys brought robots, toy guns, or swords. But Wang Jiashu stood out—he effortlessly solved a Rubik’s Cube.
Lin Zhiyi remarked, “An idol is truly an idol, even when playing with toys, he chooses something intellectual.”
I added, “It’s all about showing off his IQ—very sophisticated.”
Xinbao leaned over to watch the video. At the end, Wang Jiashu looked into the camera and said, “Classmates, after hearing my explanation of the Rubik’s Cube, do you want to play with me?”
“Yes,” Xinbao replied sweetly, her voice tinged with shyness.
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3
After starting elementary school, Xinbao quickly adapted to her new life, but there was one thing she couldn’t get used to—waking up earlier than she did for kindergarten.
She was full of energy at night, insisting on playing after finishing her homework—drawing, building with LEGO, or molding clay. By morning, she could barely drag herself out of bed, earning her the title of “Rising Difficulty Champion.”
And with that title inevitably came another: “Chronically Late King.”
The teacher eventually called us in for a talk. “Lin Muning can’t be late anymore. It affects not only her but also the other students.”
I began to reflect on my own habits and vowed to set a better example by going to bed earlier.
But Lin Zhiyi had a different take. “Xinbao isn’t stressed about being late, and she still scores full marks, just like me. That calmness runs in the family.”
“But scoring full marks is because of my genes!” I argued.
“Her emotional intelligence comes from me,” he countered. “When I was in elementary school, my teacher scolded me for being late one day, but I still arrived late the next day. It wasn’t until the third day that I started arriving on time.”
“Why not start on time from the second day?” I asked, puzzled.
“That would’ve made me look too obedient. I had to maintain my individuality.”
“...” I silently thanked the heavens that, despite his quirks, he still listens to his wife.
Of course, being late wasn’t a good habit, so we began helping Xinbao change. We encouraged her to brush her teeth and wash her face earlier, and we accompanied her to bed sooner. In the mornings, we woke her up with her favorite songs, then dragged her through brushing her teeth, washing her face, and eating breakfast. Her school required students to arrive by 7:50 AM at the latest, ideally by 7:40.
One day, we reformed ourselves and left the house at 7:30. On the way to school, we bumped into Wang Jiashu. Xinbao greeted him cheerfully, “Good morning, Wang Jiashu!”
To our surprise, Wang Jiashu looked flustered upon seeing Xinbao and exclaimed, “Oh no!”
Wang Jiashu’s father asked, “What’s wrong? Did you forget your textbook?”
“No!” Wang Jiashu replied helplessly. “We’re going to be late!”
His father checked his watch and said, “It’s only 7:35. We won’t be late.”
But Wang Jiashu, looking at Xinbao, still seemed unconvinced. “But… Lin Muning is always late!”
Xinbao was speechless. “Can’t you see I’m trying to turn over a new leaf today?” I thought, amused yet exasperated. Clearly, Xinbao’s reputation as the “Chronically Late King” had spread far and wide. From that day on, Xinbao vowed to become the “Early Bird King” so Wang Jiashu wouldn’t worry about being late whenever he saw her on the way to school.
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4
During the National Day holiday, we traveled to Turkey. After visiting tourist attractions and returning to the hotel, Xinbao flopped onto the bed and sighed, “I miss school so much!”
“Why?” I asked, surprised, since she’d often complained about disliking school.
“So I can see my straight-A desk partner, Wang Jiashu,” she replied dreamily.
Ah, the power of role models! Having a top student as her desk partner had clearly motivated her to study harder.
Still, there were moments when she felt discouraged. One day after school, while doing her homework, Xinbao sighed, “Being Wang Jiashu’s desk partner is so… so… so… embarr…” Her face twisted in frustration.
“Embarrassing?” I offered.
“No, humiliating,” she corrected.
“Why?” I asked.
“My grades haven’t been as good as his lately,” she admitted, hanging her head.
“Then catch up!” I encouraged.
“Okay,” she muttered reluctantly. I understood her feelings of inferiority—after all, who doesn’t want to impress their idol?
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5
One day, while helping Xinbao with her homework, Lin Zhiyi discovered a form belonging to Wang Jiashu tucked inside her Chinese textbook.
“Why do you have someone else’s form?” he asked.
“Don’t ask!” Xinbao shot back, shutting him down.
“...” Lin Zhiyi looked hurt. That night, as he told her a bedtime story, Xinbao explained, “It’s a form the teacher gave back. Wang Jiashu gave it to me to use as a bookmark.”
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6
One day after school, Xinbao told me, “I helped Wang Jiashu serve rice today.”
“Why did you help him?” Lin Zhiyi asked curiously.
“Because he helped me serve soup!” Xinbao replied, her cheeks flushed with girlish shyness.
“...” Lin Zhiyi and I exchanged glances, speechless.
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7
One evening, Xinbao came home from school and collapsed into bed. She woke up at 6:00 AM the next morning and immediately called out, “Dad!”
“I’m coming!” Lin Zhiyi scrambled out of bed.
I sighed inwardly. “Lately, I’ve been too busy with work to spend time with her. She doesn’t even call for me anymore.”
“Dad! I haven’t finished my homework! Help me!” Xinbao pleaded.
Well, if my status as her go-to parent was slipping, so be it. Sleep was more important anyway. Even if I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep, staying in bed was still preferable. Helping her with homework—a task both mentally and physically exhausting—was best left to Lin Zhiyi, who had endless patience.
Xinbao woke up early and left the house early too. As she said goodbye to me, she clasped her hands together and prayed earnestly, “I hope Heaven blesses me.”
“Bless you to score 100 points?” I guessed.
“No, bless me to meet Wang Jiashu on the way to school,” she replied, her eyes filled with longing. Then, with a dreamy smile, she added, “Meeting a top student on the way to school is such a wonderful thing!”
8
A few days ago, Xinbao told me, “Wang Jiashu said that when he’s feeling down, he eats some candy.”
“Did he tell you this?” I asked.
“No, I overheard him muttering to himself. I decided to bring some candy to school for him to eat,” she explained earnestly.
Lin Zhiyi, overhearing our conversation, chimed in dramatically, “I’m feeling down too. What should I do?”
“You eat candy too,” Xinbao replied matter-of-factly.
I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. Lin Zhiyi’s lament about feeling “down” probably stemmed from a sense of loss—after all, our little girl was already paying attention to boys her age.
True to her word, Xinbao brought candy to school the next day. When she returned home, she reported, “I brought eight pieces of candy today. I planned to share them like this: one for me, one for Wang Jiashu, one for me, one for Wang Jiashu…”
“And? Did you give him any?” I asked.
“Well,” she sighed, “Cai Cai ate three pieces, I ate two, Yao Yao ate two, and Qian Qian ate one.”
“So Wang Jiashu didn’t get any?”
“Luckily, he scored 100 points on his test, and the teacher gave him a piece of candy as a reward.”
Reality, it seems, often diverges from expectations. Xinbao had intended to share candy with her idol—one piece for her, one for him—but her stash was quickly devoured by her girlfriends. The conclusion? Her idol mattered, but her girlfriends mattered more. As for Wang Jiashu, relying on fangirls for candy wasn’t reliable—self-reliance was still the way to go.
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9
After the final exams, Xinbao went to school a week later to collect her report card. She came home proudly waving her First Prize certificate and declared, “I got 100 points in English, and Wang Jiashu didn’t even get 100 this time!”
Lin Zhiyi teased, “Looks like praying to your idol worked!”
On the morning of the exam, Xinbao had been visibly nervous. She clasped her hands together and prayed, “Wang Jiashu, please bless me to score 100 points!”
Lin Zhiyi had joked at the time, “Everyone else prays to Buddha before exams, but you pray to your idol!”
And indeed, it seemed to have worked—so well, in fact, that she had metaphorically “absorbed” Wang Jiashu’s usual perfect score.
The grading system for first graders these days is much more humane than when I was in school. Almost every child receives a certificate, divided into First Prize, Second Prize, and Third Prize, based on their performance in three subjects. Back in my day, only the top student received an award. If I didn’t come in first, I wouldn’t get new clothes for the Lunar New Year.
This time, both Xinbao and Wang Jiashu earned First Prizes and were photographed together with the other awardees. Looking at the group photo, I noticed something and pointed it out to Xinbao: “Hey, Wang Jiashu is standing right next to you in this picture!”
Xinbao’s lips curved into a shy yet pleased smile. “I stood there first. I don’t know when he joined me.”
The next morning, Xinbao woke up and said, “I dreamed about Wang Jiashu last night. A lot of girls were looking at him and saying, ‘Wang Jiashu is so cute!’”
I sighed, “Isn’t this just like a scene from a romance novel where girls fawn over their idols?”
Lin Zhiyi echoed my sentiment, “It’s over… I feel like my daughter no longer belongs to me…”
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10
As we chatted before bed, Xinbao suddenly said, “I discovered that a lot of girls in our class like Wang Jiashu. They even say they want to marry him when they grow up!”
I tried to suppress my astonishment at how early kids seemed to mature these days and casually asked, “So who does Wang Jiashu like?”
Xinbao thought for a moment and replied, “I once asked him, ‘Who do you like?’ He said, ‘Wu.’ I thought he meant Wu Zhengquan!”
I burst out laughing. “Haha! I think he meant ‘wu’ as in ‘none’—meaning he doesn’t like anyone.”
Apparently, Wang Jiashu once came home from school and asked his dad to prepare more houses. His dad, puzzled, asked, “Why do we need more houses?”
Wang Jiashu replied earnestly, “So many girls in our class want to marry me. Of course, we’ll need more houses, or where will everyone live?”
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11
One Monday morning, Xinbao said, “I want to wear that cat shirt again.”
The “cat shirt” she referred to was a T-shirt with a cat pattern on the front. During the previous week, Lin Zhiyi had mostly been the one to take her to school, and since he was relatively lazy about coordinating outfits, Xinbao ended up wearing the same cat shirt for three consecutive days.
I asked, “Didn’t you once say it wasn’t good for someone to wear the same clothes for days on end? You’ve already worn that cat shirt several times last week. Why do you want to wear it again today?”
She replied innocently, “Because last week, whenever I wore the cat shirt, Wang Jiashu happened to wear a shirt with fish on it.”
“...” So she was trying to reenact the “kittens love fish” dynamic?
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12
In the afternoon, after finishing her boxing class, Xinbao skipped into the house humming a cheerful tune, clearly in high spirits. Normally, she wouldn’t disturb me while I was writing in my room, but this time, she called out loudly from the living room, “Mom! Guess what?”
“What?” I replied.
“Today, Wang Jiashu came to watch me box! He even cheered me on and said, ‘You can do it!’”
Her tone sounded dismissive, but her face betrayed her pride.
I asked, “It wasn’t a competition, so why was he cheering?”
“He goes every Sunday,” she explained.
“Every Sunday? To watch you?” I was surprised.
“No, he goes to swim on Sundays. It just happens to be near my boxing class.”
“Oh…” I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, seizing the opportunity to encourage her, I asked, “Do you want to learn swimming too?”
“Yes!” she replied without hesitation.
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13
A few days ago, Xinbao attended a classmate’s birthday party. One of the activities involved everyone complimenting their peers. Out of the nine students present, five praised Wang Jiashu for various qualities: his academic excellence, his attentiveness in class, and his piano skills.
When it was Xinbao’s turn to speak, she praised the girl sitting next to Wang Jiashu: “I think Li Jiaran is very active in class discussions.”
I knew that Xinbao wanted to praise Wang Jiashu (she often mentioned his strengths at home), but by then, all his notable qualities had already been highlighted by the other students. Left with no choice, she picked another classmate to compliment.
When it was Wang Jiashu’s turn to speak, the host set a rule: “Wang Jiashu, you can’t compliment Li Jiaran. Both of you received the most praise today. Pick someone else.”
Wang Jiashu hesitated for a moment and said, “Alright. I think Lin Muning is great at drawing!”
As soon as he finished speaking, the other students erupted in applause and cheered, “Lin Muning, Wang Jiashu says you’re great at drawing!”
Xinbao, completely caught off guard, had been busy licking chocolate off the cake tray, her mouth smeared with chocolate crumbs (picture a little kitten). She looked up, bewildered, and asked, “What? What’s going on?”
Clearly, compared to her idol, Xinbao was more focused on the chocolate cake—a true testament to her foodie nature!
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14
It was time for Xinbao to return to school to collect her final exam results. The night before, she was visibly anxious: “Tomorrow we’re getting our report cards. I don’t even want to go—it makes me so nervous.”
Lin Zhiyi teased, “If you were Wang Jiashu, would you still be nervous?”
“Even if I were him, I’d still be nervous! What if I don’t get 100 points?”
“So what are you worried about?”
“I’m afraid I’ll score poorly, and you won’t take me to see The Lion King .”
“If you behave well during the summer, we’ll still take you to see The Lion King ,” he reassured her.
“Then I’ll do my summer homework diligently…” Xinbao declared, though her expression suggested reluctance.
At noon that day, I was working in the office when my phone buzzed briefly. It was Lin Zhiyi sending me a voice message request. There were two short audio clips:
“Mom, guess how many points I scored on my math final? And guess how many points Wang Jiashu scored?”
“And my English too—guess!”
I smiled, thinking that Xinbao must have done well if she was eager to share her scores before I even got home. She likely scored at least 95 in each subject, with one possibly being a perfect 100.
I replied, “I’ll guess—you got 98 in math and 96 in English, and maybe one of them is 100.”
Xinbao’s voice message came through shortly after: “I got 100 in math—the only 100 in the class! Wang Jiashu got 98. And I also got 100 in English!” Her voice was sweet and triumphant.
I immediately congratulated her and thanked Lin Zhiyi for his tutoring efforts.
Rarely had Xinbao achieved first place in the class, so she was ecstatic for hours. Before bed, she hugged her stuffed cow and whispered, “Little Cow, I was the only one in the class to get 100 in math!”
When I tucked her in, she confided in me, “I think I got 100 because I used Wang Jiashu’s hair. It really works!”
“Wang Jiashu’s hair?” I thought about the logic behind this statement.
“Hair grows on the head, and smart people have smart heads, so it works,” she explained earnestly. This little girl, who usually disliked math, couldn’t believe she had scored 100 and needed an explanation.
But the story of Wang Jiashu’s hair had a backstory. One day, while brushing our teeth together, Xinbao said mysteriously, “I have Wang Jiashu’s hair!”
“What?!” I nearly dropped my toothbrush in shock.
“It fell off naturally—I saw a strand on his ear and took it to keep as a souvenir,” she explained.
My inner teenage heart fluttered—this was straight out of a rom-com!
“Why did you keep it?” I asked.
“To remember him, so I don’t forget the top student,” she replied solemnly.
“Why are you afraid of forgetting?” Even I, as a novelist, couldn’t have imagined such a plot twist.
“If I forget the top student, wouldn’t that make me dumb?” she reasoned.
Fair enough. Her logic was impeccable.
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Xinbao’s Diary Excerpts
November 19, 2020 | Thursday | Sunny | Mood: Partly Cloudy
There was a question in the math workbook: “Xiaohua broke both angles of his protractor. How can he measure the angle below? Write your method below.”
I glanced at the question, ignored the broken protractor diagram, and confidently wrote: “Buy a new protractor.” Wasn’t this an easy freebie question?
To my surprise, Wang Jiashu glanced at my answer and burst out laughing. Then he showed it to Changchang, who laughed until she cried; he showed it to Huzi Xiang, who was equally amused.
I suddenly realized something was off and snatched the workbook back to erase my answer. At home, I told Mom about the incident: “It was so embarrassing!”
Mom, however, found it hilarious. “You’re so generous—you’d just buy a new one! Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it, right?”
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July 9, 2021 | Friday | Sunny | Mood: Thunderstorm
Something big happened at school today—
Wang Jiashu, the straight-A idol who almost always scores 100, is transferring schools!
When the news broke, the entire class was heartbroken. After school, Liu Yuanyuan, who was rumored to like Wang Jiashu, burst into tears. Seeing her cry, Wang Jiashu himself started crying. His tears triggered a chain reaction among his close friends, and soon everyone was sobbing together.
Caught up in the emotional atmosphere, I felt obligated to cry too—even though I hadn’t known him long, we had been desk partners a few times. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried hard to cry, but no tears came. Still, my wailing was loud enough to look convincing.
When I got home, I told Dad about it. He said, “It seems your classmates share deep bonds.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I admitted. “I was crying because no one will let me copy homework anymore!”
Dad looked at me helplessly. “You’re crying over that?”
“There’s more,” I added. “Without Wang Jiashu, our group’s average score will drop, and we’ll lose the floating red flag…” I sniffled dramatically.
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Epilogue
Life is a series of encounters. On our journey, we meet many people. Meeting someone is already a blessing, even if parting is inevitable.
I wonder if Xinbao will remember Wang Jiashu when she grows up—the desk partner who accompanied her through the first four years of elementary school and taught her the bittersweet taste of farewell. Life is full of meetings and partings. Though farewells may bring a touch of sadness, the memories of sitting side by side have undoubtedly enriched her childhood.
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