“The physics competition is coming up soon. You two are the only ones from our class participating, so you need to prepare well. The school has high expectations for you both to advance to the national competition.”
The physics teacher said, “These are the test papers from the last competition class. You both did well, ranking first and second in the class.”
Zhou Wan took her paper – she had scored 104.
“Go review the questions you got wrong, and if there’s anything you still don’t understand, come ask me,” the physics teacher said.
Walking out of the office, the sunshine outside was pleasant.
It was break time, with students chatting and joking in the corridor.
“Zhou Wan, what did you score?” asked Jiang Yan.
“104,” Zhou Wan said. “You?”
Jiang Yan paused, his tone dejected: “103.”
Zhou Wan smiled. “About the same.”
“Can I look at your paper?”
“Sure.” Zhou Wan handed him her test paper.
Jiang Yan looked through her wrong answers.
They were the top two students in the physics competition class, and they usually struggled with the same problems. There was just one small question where Zhou Wan had worked out one extra step.
In every mid-term and final exam, Jiang Yan ranked first in their grade, while Zhou Wan ranked second.
But Jiang Yan knew that Zhou Wan was far more intelligent than him. If there was such a thing as a “genius” in this world, Zhou Wan deserved that title more than he did.
He poured all his time into studying, working on difficult problems, and correcting mistakes.
Yet Zhou Wan had plenty of time for part-time jobs to earn money.
Even so, he couldn’t widen the gap between them. This time, Zhou Wan had even surpassed him.
Jiang Yan felt unsatisfied and this sparked an even greater sense of crisis, but he didn’t dislike Zhou Wan. On the contrary, Zhou Wan was one of his few good friends.
She was his rival, and more importantly, a teammate worthy of respect.
“Zhou Wan, how did you think of this step?” Jiang Yan asked.
At that moment, they were walking past Class 7’s door.
Lu Xixiao’s class.
Zhou Wan spotted him from afar.
His elbow rested on the corridor windowsill, leaning there lazily. His hair had grown a bit long and was tousled by the wind. Backlit, his silhouette, and features took on a hazy quality, like an ink painting blurred by water.
His friends stood around him, arms around shoulders, chatting about everything under the sun, occasionally letting slip some crude jokes.
Lu Xixiao was part of their group, laughing along when they told inappropriate jokes, but standing there he seemed like a detached spectator.
Playing along with life, yet seemingly able to withdraw at any moment.
“Hey, Jiang Fan,” Zhou Wan heard one of the boys say, “isn’t that your goddess over there?”
The group of boys all turned to look.
Zhou Wan immediately shifted her gaze to the ground, walking straight ahead without looking sideways.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Lu Xixiao turn his head too, his profile cutting a sharp yet graceful line.
Jiang Fan raised his fist as if to punch.
“What’s this? Since when did you become such a coward? Weren’t you bragging last time about getting her number when you fell in love?” his friend teased.
Jiang Fan: “I wouldn’t dare go after someone Xiao A is interested in.”
This statement caused an immediate uproar, with everyone surrounding Lu Xixiao asking what was going on.
Lu Xixiao drawled lazily, his gaze sweeping over Zhou Wan as he raised an eyebrow: “When did I say I was interested?”
Jiang Fan had known Lu Xixiao for many years and understood his personality somewhat.
Though he didn’t think Lu Xixiao truly liked her that much, there was some interest there, or at least curiosity.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called out to Zhou Wan during the school sports meet.
Jiang Fan gave him a knowing look: “Oh, well then I’ll go get her number right now.”
Lu Xixiao gave an ambiguous laugh, neither confirming nor denying.
…
“Zhou Wan?” Jiang Yan called again.
Zhou Wan came back to herself: “Ah.”
“I was asking how you thought of this step in the problem?”
Zhou Wan looked at the test paper and explained her thought process to him.
Back in the classroom, Zhou Wan took out her phone – there were no messages.
This morning, she had sent two messages.