[Amid the ruins, an even more blinding white light appeared.]

On another front, Ding Peng and Luo Siyu were inseparable.

Luo Siyu had recently taken exams at several art schools, but as expected, she failed all of them. Only one obscure third-tier institution gave her a pass, but even then, her admission depended on her college entrance exam scores.

Her mother, Gao Xiang, was too preoccupied with her younger brother’s medical treatment to accompany her for the exams. As for Zhou Lei, he was even less likely to care about Luo Siyu. He begrudged spending money even on his own son and was far less concerned than Gao Xiang.

Ding Peng, however, seemed reliable during this period. He skipped classes to accompany his girlfriend to exams in several cities, taking the opportunity to travel and have fun along the way. Eventually, when their funds ran out, he called his parents for money.

His parents had divorced when he was very young, and he was raised by his mother, whose surname he now bore. However, he still occasionally contacted his father—not for anything else, just for pocket money.

His father was a small-time businessman with little money, so he only sent a few hundred yuan. With no other choice, Ding Peng turned to his mother, but she refused to send even that amount, scolding him over the phone and urging him to return to school immediately.

He couldn’t care less and hung up on her right away.

But how could they solve the money problem? Both Ding Peng and Luo Siyu needed money—they were both broke.

The two penniless lovers returned to City A disheartened. After a round of art exams, they didn’t even have enough money for food or drinks, let alone renting a room. Ding Peng could tolerate not drinking, but he couldn’t stand not having a place to stay. After a few days, he began pestering Luo Siyu to go back to his place. By now, Luo Siyu had no principles left; she agreed to whatever Ding Peng said, uncaring whether they might run into his parents or what impression she might leave on them—she had no intention of being serious with Ding Peng anyway.

They sneaked back to Ding Peng’s small rented apartment. Fortunately, his mother wasn’t home, which made him smug. He kissed Luo Siyu and began undressing, saying, “See? I told you my mom’s probably not here. Sometimes she doesn’t come back for days—she’s living in a mansion…”

Luo Siyu let Ding Peng undress her. Upon hearing the word “mansion,” she became interested and asked, “A mansion? Who’s your mom hooked up with?”

“My mom? Please, she’s old,” Ding Peng laughed dismissively. “She works as a housekeeper for a wealthy family. Their maid’s quarters are bigger than our living room. I think she’s enjoying herself too much to come back.”

Oh, so she’s just a housekeeper.

Luo Siyu lost interest again and closed her eyes, surrendering to pure physical pleasure.

From afternoon to evening, they indulged themselves until they were completely spent. Ding Peng lay lazily on the bed, smoking a cigarette, when he heard his mother’s voice at the door, accompanied by a man’s voice. They seemed to be arguing.

“I’ve already told you many times—I won’t do it! It’s impossible! Give it up!”

“Ms. Ding, please reconsider. Our boss is very sincere and has offered a generous reward…”

“No matter how much you offer, I won’t do it! It’s illegal!”

“Ms. Ding, this matter…”

The door opened and then slammed shut with a loud bang. The man was locked outside by Ding Peng’s mother, his voice drowned out by the door and her incessant scolding.

By then, Luo Siyu and Ding Peng had dressed and emerged from the bedroom. They tried hard to mask their awkwardness, pretending they had been studying together, but of course, they weren’t convincing.

Ding Peng’s mother wasn’t a stranger… She was none other than the housekeeper at Su Ruini’s house, whom Hou Zihao addressed as “Auntie Ding.”

When Auntie Ding saw her son and a disheveled girl emerge from the bedroom, there was no mistaking what had happened. Contempt and disgust immediately filled her eyes—displeased with her son and equally unimpressed with Luo Siyu. Without so much as a greeting, she coldly huffed and headed straight to the kitchen with her basket of groceries, leaving Luo Siyu feeling as if she’d been slapped in the face.

Here it was again.

That familiar feeling of being disrespected.

A surge of anger welled up inside Luo Siyu. Who did this servant think she was, acting so high and mighty? Did she think Luo Siyu actually cared about her son?

Fuming, she ignored Ding Peng, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and stormed toward the door. Ding Peng was caught between chasing after her and letting her go. After some hesitation, he decided to chase her. But Luo Siyu didn’t appreciate it—she flung his hand away and stomped out, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang.

As fate would have it, she ran straight into the man who had been arguing with Auntie Ding earlier.

Suited and well-groomed, he looked like a white-collar office worker—a respectable man.

Luo Siyu sized him up, then walked past without a word. But after a few steps, fragments of his earlier words echoed in her mind—something about a “generous reward…”

Luo Siyu pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, then turned back and approached the man.

The night stretched endlessly.

By May, the final stretch of college entrance exam preparation had truly begun.

The floors occupied by the senior year students in the school building were tense with pressure. Even Ge Ao, who had always been lackadaisical, became serious. He stopped copying homework and tried to stretch every hour of the day into two, working tirelessly to improve.

Only Yan Lin remained relaxed, free from exam pressure. For him, the college entrance exam was merely a formality. A top student like him, capable of becoming the provincial champion, could easily score 60 points below Tsinghua’s cutoff—it was child’s play.

Thus, he no longer focused intensely on his studies and began devoting time to Milan.

Milan, who had always been playful, also set aside her romantic fantasies in the face of the life-altering exam. Every day after school, she dutifully studied with Yan Lin. Whatever extra problems he assigned, she completed without complaint. On weekends, she no longer begged him to go on dates but instead took mock exams with him. He timed her while she answered questions, and afterward, he graded her papers and gave her scores.

True to his surname, Yan Lin was strict. When Milan made careless mistakes, he criticized her and even punished her by making her copy formulas repeatedly—more brutal than even Class 43’s homeroom teacher. But Milan knew he meant well. She wanted to attend university in Beijing with him, so she endured her small grievances and continued pushing forward, ceaselessly practicing to improve.

Of course, she occasionally complained.

“Yan Lin, just wait,” Milan muttered threateningly as she copied rules for interpreting sunlight diagrams. “After the exam, I’ll make sure to torment you—send you 500 messages a day and kiss your face until it swells.”

Yan Lin: “… “

Her threats were harmless enough, except for that last line, which sounded oddly inappropriate. He was momentarily speechless. Unfortunately, he was no match for Milan in verbal sparring. After struggling for a while, all he could manage was a dry retort: “… Just finish copying. Stop wasting time.”

Still grumbling, Milan maintained her unserious demeanor, chatting idly while copying. She asked, “What major did you choose at Tsinghua again?”

“Why are you asking? You wouldn’t understand even if I told you,” he teased.

Milan protested, “How do you know I won’t understand unless you tell me?”

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “Environmental Science.”

“Oh,” Milan paused, then pouted in resignation. “What exactly does that entail?”

He smiled faintly, amusement flickering in his eyes, clearly pleased.

“Ecology, environmental chemistry, environmental engineering… things like that.”

His explanation was even harder to grasp.

Milan felt he was deliberately mocking her intelligence and grew indignant. She glared at him with her big, round, lovely eyes. But Yan Lin remained unmoved by her beauty, pressing her head back down. “Keep copying. Don’t slack off.”

This nearly infuriated Milan.

She huffed and resumed muttering, “You’re really amazing, studying things I don’t understand…”

“I actually want to study the same major as you so I can rely on you in the future. If I don’t understand something, I can just ask you.”

“But environmental science… sounds like something humanities students can’t handle.”

“Hmm, I’m thinking of studying law—what do you think about law?”

“If you become the provincial champion and don’t use the score discount policy, will you get to choose your major freely?”

“When the time comes, could you… consider law?”

Yan Lin had never entertained the idea of studying a humanities-oriented major.

He was a science student, always more inclined toward math, physics, and chemistry. Though he wasn’t very familiar with environmental science, it fell within the STEM field, and he believed he could handle it.

As for law… it was far removed from his expertise. If his exam results were excellent, he would likely choose a popular major like finance or economics—or perhaps computer science, which promised better earning potential.

Like Zhou Leqi, he desperately needed money. In fact, his need for money might even surpass hers.

With these considerations in mind, he didn’t take Milan’s words seriously, brushing them off with vague responses before urging her to focus on her studies.

However, that night, when he returned home, his world underwent a seismic shift—

Blinding white lights illuminated the desolate ruins of the slum. Enormous, cold machines ravaged the broken walls, tearing fragile houses apart like paper. One by one, they collapsed into rubble, emitting deafening, heart-stopping roars.

Crowds gathered around the scene. It was unimaginable that land symbolizing poverty could one day draw so many people—some dressed in suits, others in tattered clothes, some angrily cursing, others despairingly crying.

Chaos reigned.

Yan Lin was swept into the vortex of confusion. Pushing through the jostling crowd, he ran toward his home. It was difficult; everything had spiraled out of control. The crowd was enraged, and violence seemed imminent.

But Yan Lin paid no attention to any of that—he only cared about his family.

His opportunistic, greedy father and indecisive mother—were they alright?

He struggled to push through the crowd.

Amid the ruins, he saw an even brighter white light.

And pools of blood.

He saw a man lying on the ground, seemingly dead.

Beside him knelt a woman, nearly unconscious from crying.

Boom.

Another house collapsed.