DXXZL - 34

Zhu Xingyao couldn’t understand how Lu Ji could act so calm and composed after stealing her first kiss. She had drifted in and out of consciousness all day, but every time she opened her eyes, the memory of that warm touch lingered vividly in her mind.

She had read romance novels with Li Xixi before, but she never imagined something like this would happen when she was barely conscious.

Yet the sensation had been so real—it wasn’t a dream.

Jiang Tu, on the other hand, was completely unaware of the misunderstanding he had caused. After leaving the hospital, he went straight to find Chen Yi. Having been hounded by Chen Yi for two years over his father’s debts, Jiang Tu had a rough idea of where Chen Yi usually hung out. Standing under the street sign in Hexi Alley, he waited while replaying the soft, wet sensation that had shattered his self-control.

Around ten o’clock, a taxi pulled up at the intersection. Chen Yi stepped out.

Seeing Jiang Tu, Chen Yi frowned. The night before, Zhu Yunping had filed a police report. Although there was surveillance footage from the barbecue restaurant, it was clear that Chen Yi hadn’t directly pushed Zhu Xingyao—it was an accident. The police suggested resolving the matter privately.

Private resolution usually meant money. Zhu Yunping wasn’t short on cash, but as a former university professor, he despised such underhanded tactics and insisted that this kind of incident never happen again. He demanded that Chen Yi promise to avoid Zhu Xingyao in the future.

Chen Yi had just been released from the police station and was exhausted, not wanting to deal with someone as stubborn as Jiang Tu. To his surprise, Jiang Tu removed his glasses and immediately lunged at him. The two began fighting right there on the street.

Chen Yi cursed inwardly: Damn, he really came to fight me.

Eventually, Lin Jiayu’s father happened to pass by and intervened, calling for help to separate them. Grabbing Jiang Tu, he urgently asked, “Isn’t today the final exam? Why aren’t you taking the test?”

“I’m not taking it.”

Sweat dripped from Jiang Tu’s forehead. He wiped his face and picked up his glasses to put them back on.

Chen Yi, bruised and disheveled, climbed to his feet, panting as he glared at Jiang Tu. “You wait and see.”

Jiang Tu gave Chen Yi one last icy glance before turning and walking away.

For the final exams, Zhu Xingyao, Jiang Tu, and Lu Ji were all absent. Zhu Xingyao and Lu Ji were hospitalized, while Jiang Tu had taken leave from Cao Shujun, citing a family emergency. No one knew that he had spent the entire night watching over Zhu Xingyao at the hospital.

After the afternoon exams ended, Cao Shujun, Xie Ya, and a group of students came to visit the hospital. Lu Ji hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, but given his brilliant mind, his family insisted on running numerous tests to ensure nothing was wrong. He would be discharged the next day.

Thus, a crowd gathered in Zhu Xingyao’s hospital room. Cao Shujun said, “It’s good that nothing serious happened. Rest well and recover.”

Li Xixi peeled an apple for Zhu Xingyao, slicing it into small pieces and handing it to her. In a low voice, she said, “Two people from our class didn’t take the exam, and only Lu Ji missed it from their class. Their average score will surpass ours by a lot…”

Once again, Old Cao’s date and girlfriend plans had fallen through.

Zhu Xingyao leaned against her hospital bed and apologized to Cao Shujun. “I’m sorry, Teacher Cao…”

Xie Ya quickly interjected, “No need to apologize. Even if you and Jiang Tu had taken the exam, we still wouldn’t have beaten our class. Just rest and don’t worry about these things.”

Cao Shujun glanced at Xie Ya and smiled. “We’re about to enter our final year of high school. There will be plenty of exams, big and small. We’ll catch up eventually—I’m not worried.”

“Show some dignity in front of your students,” Xie Ya muttered, rolling her eyes.

Everyone burst into laughter.

The nurse knocked and reminded them, “Keep it down. The patient needs quiet to rest.”

In the evening, Lin Jiayu returned from the hospital and went straight to Jiang Tu’s house. Shu Xian answered the door. Jiang Lu wasn’t home yet, and Jiang Jinhui was, as usual, absent. Shu Xian was unaware of what had happened the previous night—she had only heard from Lin Jiayu’s father that Jiang Tu had gotten into a fight with Chen Yi and skipped the exam.

Worried, she asked Lin Jiayu, “Why would Jiang Tu provoke Chen Yi? And fight him on the street?”

Lin Jiayu hesitated for a moment. Looking at Jiang Tu’s closed bedroom door, she said, “Aunt Shu, I’ll go check on Jiang Tu…”

“Go ahead and try to talk some sense into him,” Shu Xian sighed.

Lin Jiayu knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the lock clicked, and the door opened. The room was thick with cigarette smoke. Jiang Tu turned and sat back down in his chair, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. Without his glasses, he lowered his gaze and brought the cigarette to his lips, his demeanor distant and detached.

“We visited Zhu Xingyao after our exam. She’s awake and in good spirits. She says she’ll be discharged in a few days and is heading to Beijing. She won’t be back until the end of August,” Lin Jiayu said, standing by the desk and chattering away. “You, her, and Lu Ji didn’t take the exam. Your class lost again in terms of average scores, and Teacher Cao got rejected by Teacher Xie once more…”

Jiang Tu remained silent.

Lin Jiayu looked at him and softly said, “Won’t you go see her? She definitely won’t blame you. Don’t shoulder all the responsibility yourself.”

Finally, Jiang Tu raised his head to look at her. His bloodshot eyes revealed his sleepless night and a hint of self-loathing. His voice was hoarse as he replied, “Just because she doesn’t blame me doesn’t mean I’m not responsible.”

________________________________________

Two days later, summer vacation officially began. Before the break, the Grade 11 students held a meeting focused on summer tutoring and the upcoming late-night study sessions for Grade 12. They would start school twenty days early for tutoring, and once the new term began, they’d have nightly study sessions until ten o’clock.

On the first morning of vacation, at eight o’clock, Jiang Tu had just stepped out of Hexi Alley when he received a text from Zhu Xingyao.

Zhu Xingyao: “Brother Tu, what happened that day was an accident. Don’t blame yourself. I’ll be discharged in a couple of days and will head to Beijing. I won’t be back until the end of August.”

Zhu Xingyao: “Xixi and the others are coming to see me tonight. Will you come too?”

More often than not, Jiang Tu couldn’t refuse her. Nor did he intend to deliberately distance himself from her—not for the remainder of high school, at least. After graduation, he didn’t know how long it would take to see her again.

The early morning sunlight filtered through, casting a soft glow on the red-brick walls. He stood by the wall, giving in, replying: “Okay.”

As the sun set, pedestrians hurried past the hospital entrance. A group of students stood outside a nearby fruit shop. Jiang Tu crossed the street in the twilight and approached them. Lu Ji was holding several bags of fruit, chatting with Xu Xiangyang about going to Beijing in August to watch the Olympics.

Jiang Tu glanced at them and said, “Let’s go.”

Lu Ji nodded, and the group entered the hospital. Xu Xiangyang leaned down to ask Li Xixi, “Are you coming with us? I’ll help you book tickets if you want.”

Li Xixi looked up at him. Xu Xiangyang, with his handsome and sunny demeanor, had grown accustomed to being class monitor, always carrying an air of leadership. But she knew his offer to help her book tickets was because… he was pursuing her. On her birthday, he had held a guitar intending to play a Jay Chou song for her.

She lowered her head and softly replied, “Let me think about it.”

Lu Ji turned and said, “Isn’t Zhu Xingyao in Beijing? If you go, you can visit her.”

Lin Jiayu instinctively glanced at Jiang Tu. His expression remained calm. Li Xixi ran over and tugged Lin Jiayu’s arm. “Do you want to go?”

“I can’t…”

Lin Jiayu shook her head vigorously. How could she afford a trip to Beijing?

A few minutes later, Jiang Tu paused at the door of the ward. From inside came the cheerful giggles of a little girl. Peering through the small window on the door, he saw that Zhu Xingyao’s originally private room now had an additional bed occupied by a girl of about seven or eight years old.

The girl’s parents were hanging strings of star-shaped lights above her bed. The twinkling lights added a splash of color to the otherwise pale hospital room. The little girl tilted her head and asked, “Sister, do you think my star lights are pretty?”

Zhu Xingyao’s voice was soft and gentle. “They’re beautiful.”

The little girl giggled. “Then you should ask Dr. Ding to buy some for you too!”

Jiang Tu lowered his gaze and opened the door, hearing Zhu Xingyao mutter, “I’m already so old…” She suddenly turned her head toward the door, and upon seeing Jiang Tu, visibly relaxed. Her face lit up with a bright smile. “You’re here!”

“Hmm? Why is there a little kid?” Li Xixi asked curiously.

Zhu Xingyao glanced at Jiang Tu, whose expression remained as indifferent as ever, and explained, “Hospital rooms are tight during summer vacation. She’s one of my mom’s patients and has been temporarily placed here. Besides, I’ll be discharged in a couple of days.”

The little girl was exceptionally polite, greeting everyone sweetly: “Hello, big brothers and sisters.”

Lu Ji placed the fruit on the table and asked Zhu Xingyao, “Do you want some grapes?”

Zhu Xingyao looked up at him, then lowered her head and softly replied, “Okay.”

Over the past few days, Lu Ji had visited her daily but had never mentioned the stolen kiss. Zhu Xingyao found herself feeling a bit frustrated whenever she thought about it. Then she remembered the drawer full of love letters he had written her and reasoned that he must have acted out of deep affection.

In the end, recalling how Lu Ji had shielded her with his body, she was able to forgive him for kissing her without permission. Still, every time she met his straightforward, unapologetic gaze, an indescribable emotion welled up inside her.

What was the reason behind all of this?

Lu Ji went to wash the grapes, and Li Xixi giggled nearby. “Lu Ji is becoming more and more considerate... almost as if...”

Zhou Yuan quickly chimed in, “All he needs now is a title!”

Jiang Tu, who had been silent until now, suddenly looked up at her. Zhu Xingyao raised her head just in time to meet his dark eyes. Suddenly, all the lights in the ward went out. The little girl had somehow climbed off her bed and turned off the switch by the door.

In an instant, the dimly lit room was illuminated only by the twinkling star-shaped lights above the neighboring bed. The faint, firefly-like glow cast shadows on everyone’s faces, making their expressions somewhat indistinct, yet the atmosphere felt unexpectedly pleasant.

The little girl clapped her hands happily. “It’s so pretty!”

Her mother hurried over to pull her daughter back and apologized, “Sorry about that. I’ll turn the lights back on.”

“No need,” Zhu Xingyao said, looking around. She glanced up at her own bare ceiling and couldn’t help but pout. Her side of the room was darker and colder. “Leave it like this—it’s beautiful.”

Jiang Tu watched her, then tugged Lin Jiayu aside. As soon as they moved, the light from the stars spilled over.

Her eyes instantly brightened, and she smiled up at him. “This is much better. Come sit...” Realizing there weren’t enough chairs for everyone, she quickly added, “Come over here. It feels like we’re having a late-night chat.”

Jiang Tu saw the joy in her eyes and glanced at the strands of twinkling star lights. Lu Ji, who had heard everything clearly from the washroom, walked out carrying a tray of fruit. His gaze shifted briefly toward the lights before returning to Zhu Xingyao. A title, huh? He wanted one too.

He placed the tray in front of Zhu Xingyao and leaned down to look at her. “Classes start again on August 10th for tutoring. When are you coming back from Beijing?”

Because of her hospital stay, her lessons in Beijing had been delayed. Fortunately, Teacher Chen Lan was in Beijing recently and said it was fine to postpone her classes by a few days. Her solo recital was scheduled for October, along with recording a personal performance video.

Not wanting Jiang Tu to feel guilty, Zhu Xingyao hesitated before replying, “I might need to take a few days off.”

“They’re going to Beijing to watch the Olympics!” Li Xixi exclaimed, glancing at Xu Xiangyang. “I’m going too. Xu Xiangyang said he’d book my ticket.”

“Really?” Zhu Xingyao brightened. “Then you can come visit me.”

She seemed to misunderstand, thinking everyone was going.

Jiang Tu calmly interjected, “Lin Jiayu and I aren’t going.”

Zhu Xingyao paused, then quickly smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Hospital visiting hours ended at ten o’clock. Around nine, they prepared to leave. Just as they were about to go, Zhu Xingyao called out to Jiang Tu, who was walking last.

Jiang Tu stopped and turned to look at her.

In the soft light, her gentle smile shone. “You hardly said a word all evening. I don’t want you overthinking things. I’m really fine.” She got up from her bed and walked over to him. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

He didn’t move, silently watching her. His voice was soft. “Will it leave a scar?”

Zhu Xingyao froze, touching the bandage on her head. A small patch of hair had been shaved, and she had a few stitches. Thankfully, her thick black hair covered it when let down. But this was the first scar she’d ever had in her life.

After a moment, she tilted her head and blinked. “It’s fine. No one will see it.”

Who would stare at her scalp anyway!

Jiang Tu swallowed hard. In the end, he didn’t ask if it hurt.

Even if no one could see it, it still hurt. There would always be a scar—at least in his heart.

Early July, Zhu Xingyao left for Beijing. Jiang Tu harbored a wild yet beautiful thought. Ever since meeting Zhu Xingyao, he seemed to constantly teeter between rationality and madness.

At exactly 8:00 PM on August 8, 2008, the Olympic Games opening ceremony officially began. Lin Jiayu squeezed into Jiang Tu’s house to watch the ceremony with him and his brother. After the torch was lit, Jiang Tu got up and returned to his room.

During summer vacation, Lin Jiayu’s father had bought her a desktop computer. However, the internet connection in Hexi Alley was terrible, so browsing web pages took forever. But she could still chat on QQ.

Recently, Jiang Tu had been extremely busy, working multiple part-time jobs. Jiang Lu mentioned that he would hole himself up in his room as soon as he came home, not knowing what he was doing. Remembering the photos Zhou Yuan and others posted online earlier that day, Lin Jiayu rushed to knock on his door.

A few seconds later, Jiang Tu opened the door, visibly annoyed. “What do you want?”

“Have you been online? Zhu Xingyao and the others are having so much fun in Beijing. Li Xixi posted lots of pictures on her space…” Lin Jiayu peeked inside through the gap, spotting a messy pile of tiny wires, tools, and even a book spread across the floor. She whispered while sneaking a glance, “Wow, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Jiang Tu rudely pushed her head and shoved her out.

“Hey, hey!” Lin Jiayu struggled, but it was futile. Just as the door closed, she caught a glimpse of several strands of star-shaped lights hanging on the wall. Frowning, she tried to figure out what he was up to—but failed.

Two days later, the soon-to-be Grade 12 students returned to school for tutoring.

On the first morning, Xu Xiangyang moved Li Xixi’s desk without warning. She stomped her foot in protest. “Xu Xiangyang, I never agreed to sit with you!”

Busy moving desks, Xu Xiangyang shot her an impatient glance. “Li Xixi, you scored so poorly. I’m kindly offering to tutor you, and you refuse? Do you want to get into a Beijing university or not? Do you care about raising our class’s average score?”

Just a few days ago in Beijing, Li Xixi had confidently declared her intention to get into a Beijing university.

Everyone else turned to watch the drama unfold. Someone shouted with a laugh, “Class President, I suspect you’re using this as an excuse to get closer to her!”

Xu Xiangyang grinned. “Then you’re wrong. Everything I do is for the class.”

Li Xixi glanced at him hesitantly. “But what about Zhu Xingyao?”

“She’s on leave,” Xu Xiangyang replied. “When she comes back, you can move your desk back.”

As it turns out, whether teenage boys or mature men, both can be emotional tricksters.

On August 25, Zhu Xingyao returned to school. But Xu Xiangyang wouldn’t let her leave. “Until our class’s average score surpasses Class 2’s, you can’t go.”

Li Xixi wanted to slap him. She kicked him instead. “You’re breaking your promise!”

Zhu Xingyao stood between two desks, eyeing her unfamiliar male desk-mate while watching Li Xixi’s flushed face as she tried to move her desk. Quickly stepping in, Zhu Xingyao said, “Don’t bother moving it. I’ll just sit here.”

While in Beijing, they had visited Tsinghua University. Xu Xiangyang had confessed to Li Xixi again. Though Li Xixi was sharp-tongued, she clearly liked Xu Xiangyang—otherwise, why would she agree to sit with him?

Li Xixi paused mid-action, scanning the classroom. Her gaze suddenly shifted to Jiang Tu and Ding Xiang. She walked over and patted Ding Xiang. “Move to the front. Let Zhu Xingyao sit here.”

And just like that, Ding Xiang was sent packing.

Jiang Tu silently watched as Li Xixi forced Ding Xiang to switch desks. His expression grew complex. He didn’t know whether to marvel at how well he had hidden his feelings or thank Li Xixi for her obliviousness—he was the one with the greatest intentions toward Zhu Xingyao.

The sound of moving desks grated on the ears. Zhu Xingyao stood there, dazed, as Ding Xiang whined dramatically, “Li Xixi is absolutely insane! I’ve sat next to Brother Tu for two years! How dare you split us up!”

He sounded more pitiful than Dou E!

Coming back to her senses, Zhu Xingyao chuckled awkwardly and tugged at Li Xixi. “Forget it. Don’t make him move. Look, Ding Xiang’s about to cry.”

Ding Xiang had barely nudged Zhu Xingyao’s desk when Jiang Tu suddenly stood up, took hold of it, and forcefully moved it next to his own. It was as if fate had intervened, bringing them closer and tightening the bond between them.

Turning his head, Jiang Tu calmly said, “There. Now you and Li Xixi can sit in the same row.”

Of course, only he knew how selfish he was being.

Zhu Xingyao instinctively glanced at her classmates. She saw Xia Jin glaring at her wide-eyed and Zhang Sheng looking resentful. By the time the bell rang for class, she reluctantly pulled out her chair and sat down, her emotions indescribable.

During Chinese class, she nervously arranged her books and flipped open her textbook.

After class, Jiang Tu turned to her and abruptly asked, “Do you not want to sit next to me?”

Zhu Xingyao quickly shook her head. “No! It’s just…” She mumbled softly, “I’m not used to sitting next to boys.”

Jiang Tu fell silent.

Zhu Xingyao’s eyes darted around, then suddenly froze on the elongated curve of the boy’s neck. There were two or three red scratches on his side, as if something had scraped him, breaking the skin and causing a little blood to seep out. A band-aid was placed in the middle. Staring at the band-aid, she frowned and asked, “Did... did Chen Yi cause you trouble again?”

Previously, Zhu Yunping, fearing she might suffer from psychological trauma, had specifically reassured her that Chen Yi would no longer bother her and would avoid her in the future. However, Jiang Tu’s family situation was too complicated. The root cause was his father’s gambling habit, which was someone else’s family matter—something he couldn’t meddle with.

Jiang Tu was taken aback, rubbing his neck with his hand. His voice remained calm, “No.”

Zhu Xingyao didn’t believe him. Pouting, she retorted, “Then how did you get hurt?”

He accidentally got scratched by a branch.

He lowered his hand, clearly unwilling to elaborate, “It was an accident.”

“You tell me the truth,” Zhu Xingyao puffed up indignantly, softly complaining, “You’re always like this, shouldering everything yourself...”

You’re only eighteen or nineteen, still a senior high school student.

What if something happens and it affects your college entrance exam?

Jiang Tu couldn’t reveal the truth. He silently gazed at her for a moment, then suddenly smiled. Zhu Xingyao was baffled by his smile. Looking up and glaring, she found him still smiling. She adopted a serious tone, growing anxious, “Why are you laughing?”

Jiang Tu’s lips curved slightly, turning back, “Nothing.”

Zhu Xingyao: “...”

The hardest mouth to pry open in the world must be Jiang Tu’s. Huffing, she turned back to memorize German words.

That noon, after school, a group of them went downstairs to eat together. Lu Ji only learned that Zhu Xingyao and Jiang Tu were now desk-mates. Startled, he grabbed Xu Xiangyang from behind after hearing the whole story, frowning, “Are you insane? You can sit with Li Xixi if you want, but why did you make Zhu Xingyao sit next to Jiang Tu?”

Zhu Xingyao and Li Xixi glanced back, seeing Lu Ji’s impatient expression. Surprised, Zhu Xingyao asked Li Xixi, “Are they arguing?”

Li Xixi was also bewildered, shaking her head, “I don’t know!”

Even Xu Xiangyang was startled by Lu Ji’s sudden impatience. Chuckling, he soothed, “There’s no other way. There aren’t many girls in the class, and the seating is fixed. Li Xixi thought Jiang Tu was relatively safer...”

Lu Ji sneered, then fell silent, “Fine.”

Zhou Yuan ran over, “What are you guys doing?”

Lu Ji said nothing, looking up at Zhu Xingyao, striding over.

During evening self-study, Lin Jiayu overheard Zhou Yuan whispering something about birthday confessions to Lu Ji when no one was paying attention. Lu Ji kicked him away, telling him to shut up and not blabber. After Zhou Yuan left, Lin Jiayu dazedly turned to look at Lu Ji, softly asking, “Are you... going to confess to Zhu Xingyao?”

Lu Ji glanced at her, lazily chuckling, “Yeah, keep it a secret.”

Lin Jiayu felt a pang in her heart, biting her lip and turning back to continue solving math problems, though her mind wasn’t really on them anymore. She wondered what would happen to Jiang Tu if Lu Ji succeeded in his confession. Would he just watch helplessly?

After a while.

Lu Ji couldn’t bear to see her struggling and pulled over her workbook, tilting his head mockingly, “How could you get such a simple problem wrong? What have you been studying these past two years?”

Lin Jiayu: “...”

She felt like cursing.

Typically, during the last period of evening self-study, Old Cao would glance through the classroom and leave. After he left, Jiang Tu skipped class. He didn’t even bring his bag, and the next morning, he slept at his desk all morning. Teachers usually turned a blind eye to top students like him.

Zhu Xingyao assumed he had gone to work part-time and didn’t ask further.

Her birthday was on August 29th. That Friday, the mysterious love letter from ‘J’ didn’t appear. She scoured her books but found nothing. For nearly two years, there had been a letter every Friday, but now it was suddenly missing. She felt unaccustomed to it.

In the afternoon, she and Li Xixi went to the convenience store to buy soy milk and snacks, mentioning the matter.

Li Xixi turned to look at her mysteriously, “Let me tell you, tonight you need to be prepared. Maybe the love letter will come tonight.”

Zhu Xingyao’s heart skipped a beat, nervously asking, “What preparation?”

“I heard Lu Ji might do something tonight.”

“Ah...”

“He wants a title.”

“...”

Because of those words, Zhu Xingyao spent the entire day somewhat distracted and nervous, worried about what Lu Ji might do. In the evening, a group including Jiang Tu gathered at a barbecue restaurant near the school gate to celebrate her birthday.

Since they still had evening self-study, they couldn’t go far.

They all had a bit to drink. Tonight, Jiang Tu’s eyes held a touch more warmth than usual, less cold. He wished her a happy birthday.

After dinner, Lu Ji insisted on paying the bill.

The group walked back to school. Since moving to the Grade 12 teaching building, the Grade 12 students passed through a forest every day on their way to and from school. Lu Ji stopped at the end of the forest path beside Zhu Xingyao, looking down at her, “Wait for me here after evening self-study?”

During evening self-study, Zhu Xingyao’s nerves were taut. She didn’t know what she was nervous about or why she was panicking. She glanced at Jiang Tu’s profile. He seemed to be in a worse mood, his face devoid of any expression, appearing extremely cold, even his jawline tense.

This emotion infected Zhu Xingyao, doubling her torment. She wrote a sentence in her notebook and passed it to him: What’s wrong? Did something happen at home?

Jiang Tu didn’t move, his eyes lowered to her neat handwriting. He remembered what Lin Jiayu had told him earlier—”Lu Ji might confess to Zhu Xingyao tonight.”

For a moment, Zhu Xingyao felt as if he had frozen in place.

After a while, he picked up the pen and wrote on the paper: Nothing.

She tilted her head to look at him.

A few seconds later, he wrote another sentence: Really, nothing.

His handwriting was forceful, almost piercing the paper.

When the notebook returned to her, the bell rang. Jiang Tu suddenly stood up, pulling his bag out from under the desk. Zhu Xingyao sat in her chair, looking up at him. He was already 186 cm tall, and it was a strain for her to look up at him. She softly asked, “There’s still one more class before dismissal. Are you... skipping class again?”

Jiang Tu looked down into her eyes, wanting to say so much but unable to. Ultimately, he suppressed himself and squeezed out two words, “Work,” then turned and left.

His solitary figure quickly disappeared at the door.

Zhu Xingyao withdrew her gaze, the double tension easing not a bit. She wrote a word and checked the time on her watch, eager for the class to end.

As soon as the self-study class ended, Zhu Xingyao and Li Xixi mingled with the noisy crowd heading downstairs. Sensing her tension, Li Xixi comforted her, “Don’t think too much. A life without early romance is incomplete. Lu Ji doesn’t care if you go abroad after graduation. What are you afraid of…?”

Li Xixi, who had seized her Grade 12 days to experience a sunset romance, spoke earnestly without stopping.

Tonight, there were no stars or moon; the campus was quieter than usual. The closer they got to the forest, the darker it became. The dim light illuminated the passing students in their uniforms. Zhu Xingyao looked into the distance but didn’t see Lu Ji’s tall, slim figure.

Her heart was suspended, and she barely listened to Li Xixi’s words. Even Lin Jiayu catching up from behind didn’t register.

What happened next was a scene Zhu Xingyao would never forget. As she stepped into the forest, her foot landed on the stone path, like stepping on a switch. Suddenly, the entire forest lit up.

Everyone froze in place, as if struck by a pause button, all heads tilting up to gaze at the dense foliage above. Various sizes of star-shaped lights hung sporadically among the lush green branches.

Every large tree in the forest bore these stars, the scene resembling a grand meteor shower raining down, adorning the night with an unreal and romantic splendor.

Zhu Xingyao stood there, stunned, her head tilted back, eyes wide in awe. Her heart pounded wildly, and even her blood felt heated.

The mottled lamp light shone on her fair, beautiful face, various emotions swelling in her chest. For some reason, tears welled up unexpectedly.

The light also illuminated everyone’s faces—shocked, envious, incredulous...

When everyone finally came to their senses, a collective “Wow!” erupted, quickly followed by excited chatter—

“My god, who the hell did this? If Song Yi hadn’t graduated, I’d have thought it was him!”

“He’s already graduated! It’s not him! Who is it? This is insane, such a huge spectacle—it must be a confession!”

“Who? I didn’t see anyone! I saw Zhu Xingyao—could it be for her?”

...

Zhu Xingyao bit her lip hard and turned her head to see Lu Ji emerging from the side. He was holding a box, but suddenly lowered his hand and placed it behind his back. His lips pressed tightly together as he stared straight at her.

After a few seconds, he tilted his head up to gaze at the starlit night sky illuminated by the twinkling lights.

Li Xixi stood beside her, utterly shocked and stuttering. “Lu... Lu Ji... this... this scale... it’s like shaking the universe! Even marriage proposals don’t get this extravagant! This is... this is absolutely insane!!”

Absolutely, utterly insane!

This was Zhu Xingyao’s only thought at that moment too.

Suddenly, the stern voice of Director Liu rang out from behind them: “What are you all doing over there! What’s going on here! How could you do this! Huh? What’s the meaning of this!”

Not knowing who started it, people suddenly began to run. Li Xixi snapped out of her daze, grabbed Zhu Xingyao’s hand, and sprinted away. Wasn’t the culprit just waiting to die here? Zhu Xingyao paused briefly when she reached Lu Ji’s side.

Lu Ji clenched his lips tightly, then suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him as he ran.

Zhu Xingyao’s legs felt weak from running; if Lu Ji hadn’t been pulling her, she would have fallen.

Her backpack bounced against her back with every step, echoing the frantic pounding of her heart.

The entire forest was thrown into chaos, filled with screams and laughter. Director Liu was fuming, wanting to discipline every single one of them, but before long, most of the students had already scattered.

They ran out of the forest, where the star-shaped lights still glimmered brightly.

Standing outside the forest of lights, Zhu Xingyao suddenly looked up at Lu Ji and smiled, her eyes shining with an indescribable brilliance. She couldn’t believe that in her seventeen years of life, she had experienced something so wild and unforgettable.

Lu Ji’s lips remained tightly pressed, but he gave a faint upward curve. He walked around to her back, opened her backpack, and slipped the box inside. Leaning down close to her ear, he whispered softly, “Happy birthday, Zhu Xingyao. I hope you like the gift.”

Zhu Xingyao turned to look at him somewhat blankly, unable to make out his expression in the dim light. Quickly, she said, “I like it! I really, really like it.”

He zipped up her bag, took a step forward, and looked down at her. “Let’s go. Director Liu is coming.”

Lu Ji walked ahead, their figures stretched long under the lamplight. Zhu Xingyao glanced back once, and just like that, the lights went out entirely. The phone in Lu Ji’s pocket buzzed incessantly—it was Zhou Yuan calling. Lu Ji lowered his eyes and answered.

Zhou Yuan shouted in disbelief, “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap! Lu Ji, with all this commotion, do you even need me and Xu Xiangyang to help now?”

Still stunned, Zhou Yuan added, “No wonder you’ve been sleeping all day recently—you’re full of surprises, man!”

Lu Ji stopped walking, said nothing, and hung up.

Ten minutes later, the entire campus had returned to its usual silence. Jiang Tu emerged from the depths of the forest, his head bowed.

For many years afterward, a romantic legend spread throughout Jiangcheng No. 1 High School: In 2006, Lu Ji, the senior who won the national physics competition gold medal and secured early admission to Tsinghua, created an entire forest of star-shaped lights in pursuit of his goddess, Zhu Xingyao. The setup was ingenious, like a complex mechanism—pressing the master switch lit up the entire forest. When Director Liu and several administrative teachers found the switch, they couldn’t bear to destroy it. They left it intact for a long time until rain eventually damaged the circuitry, rendering it unusable.

Someone asked: Did Senior Lu Ji manage to win over his goddess?

Answer: Of course he did! Just look at the forum—there are photos! What woman could resist that? If I were a girl, I’d say yes to a proposal like that!

At 11:30 PM, Zhu Xingyao sat at her desk, took the box out of her backpack, and carefully removed the gift inside. Through the transparent glass, it seemed like a small, self-contained world—a carved figure of a young girl holding a cello under a tree, with seventeen stars sparsely hanging from its branches.

Zhu Xingyao held her breath, touched a button on the side, and pressed it.

All seventeen stars lit up.

She exhaled deeply, then suddenly noticed another card tucked inside her backpack—the familiar handwriting of “J.” She pulled it out and opened it.

“The most beautiful dreams are always the craziest.”

—Signed, J

August 29, 2008.