This little episode passed quickly. Everyone knew that Jiang Du had someone looking out for her—her fierce and flamboyant best friend, Wang Jingjing. Wang Jingjing's combat power was off the charts. Forget people her own age; she could get into a shouting match with a grown woman back in the third grade and successfully make her cry.

Everyone was here to study for college, that was true, and they cared more about their studies. But outside of studying, they always needed something to spice things up, like watching some drama unfold.

In today's drama, Chen Huiming was no match for Wang Jingjing at all. She was a typical bully to the weak and coward to the strong. After just a few rounds, all she could do was cry. No one knew either of them well enough to be biased, but they still felt it was a pity—the kind of pity a spectator feels when the show isn't satisfying enough.

Chen Huiming sobbed and whimpered, no longer speaking to the two of them.

By the end of the military training, Jiang Du's pink eye had gradually gotten better. She was very careful everywhere she went and believed the nonsense about how you could get infected just by making eye contact for a few seconds. So, whenever she spoke to Wang Jingjing, she would stare at the ground.

Xiao Xu rearranged everyone's seats according to height, to be shifted sideways once every two weeks.

Over the weekend, Jiang Du went home.

She first took a shower. While her Grandma cooked, she wrote in her diary in her bedroom. What is a diary? It's something to fill the blank loneliness of adolescence, recording the trivialities of daily life, remembering different scenery, or perhaps, carrying some secret, hidden thoughts.

Jiang Du's writing was very good, not in a particularly literary way, but in a very simple and unadorned way—what they call 'great skill appearing clumsy.' No matter what she wrote, it carried a sense of the earth's thick, gentle warmth. Her diary, at first glance, also seemed like a running account: how the spring breeze blew, how the autumn mist spread, how the sun on the sports field scorched her scalp, but the sandpile under the trees was warm... And also, there was a boy with exceptionally good grades, dark eyebrows, tall stature, who wore size X clothes, and always looked down on people, seeming hard to get along with.

And, he had no intention of getting along with her.

With every line she wrote, Jiang Du would lift her head and stare blankly at the osmanthus tree outside the window for a few seconds. The fragrance of the osmanthus was cloyingly sweet. She shivered and continued writing with her head down.

When it was time to eat, her Grandma came to call her.

Her Grandpa walked in carrying a small stool. The old couple were both retired. Grandma was passionate about taking her cloth bag and heading to the wet market early in the morning, while Grandpa liked to play chess with the other old men. Whenever Jiang Du came home, Grandma would cook a table full of dishes.

There were meat and vegetable dishes, with vibrant color combinations.

"Are your eyes better now? Sweetheart?" Grandma ladled some large-bone soup for her.

Grandpa had already looked Jiang Du over from head to toe. "I think the child is pretty much recovered," he said.

Jiang Du was the type to report good news but not bad. She recounted amusing stories from military training, mimicking the tone of her head teacher and the strictness of the drill instructor, making her Grandma laugh constantly.

Only when Jiang Du returned did the house feel more like a home—lively, full of talk and laughter. Even the old furniture seemed to take on a new look.

As the meal was winding down, Grandma subconsciously glanced at the calendar on the table. Jiang Du knew what this meant; she had already noted which day the Mid-Autumn Festival fell on.

That person came back twice a year, for the Mid-Autumn Festival and New Year's Eve—days for family reunions, and also days when she had to stay at her aunt's house.

Jiang Du hadn't celebrated the Mid-Autumn Festival with her grandparents for many years.

Apparently, this year would be no exception.

The two elders exchanged a silent glance. Grandma, her face full of guilt, spoke up, "Sweetheart, this Mid-Autumn Festival will be the same as before, okay?"

What was there to be okay or not okay about? Jiang Du's expression dimmed for a moment as usual. She smiled, "It's fine. When school's out for the holiday, I'll ask Wang Jingjing to go to the bookstore with me."

Grandma looked as if she wanted to say something but held back, the emotions in her eyes so complex they were impossible to describe with words.

Jiang Du only knew that person was her mother. When her mother came home, she had to leave. Otherwise, her mother would never come back.

One year, she was truly curious and truly longed for it. She felt that her mother should like her. She never caused trouble, loved to study, loved to work, and was like a docile little lamb. Wang Jingjing would get into shouting matches and fight with boys, and even when people came to their door to complain, her mother would still side with her. Jiang Du felt that if her mother got to know her better, she would definitely like her. With this thought in mind, she secretly came back. Before she could even get a clear look at anything, her Grandma discovered her. The old woman, pale with fright, rushed her back in the direction of her aunt's house.

Jiang Du felt incredibly wronged. Holding back her tears, she kept looking back, only to see her Grandma's hand gesturing up and down repeatedly: 'Go quickly.'

She cried the entire way, wiping her tears dry only when she reached the door of her aunt's house before going in.

Even so, Jiang Du never asked any of the adults, including her aunt's family, what was really going on. She felt that if someone wanted to talk about something, they would tell you without being asked. If they didn't want to say, asking wouldn't make them talk, so why make things difficult for others? And if those 'others' were family, it was even more important not to make things difficult.

As if to compensate, Grandma gave her extra pocket money as usual. Jiang Du didn't like to spend money carelessly, but this time, she planned to spend it. The competition at Mei Zhong was brutal. Jiang Du had entered the school with average scores and had little presence. In the teachers' eyes, there were only two things: Tsinghua and Peking Universities, and the acceptance rate for top-tier universities. Jiang Du was very worried she would end up at an ordinary university.

She didn't have any good methods. Drowning herself in a sea of practice problems and doing more test papers seemed to be the only way out. In any case, she wasn't afraid of hard work.

But at Mei Zhong, the acceptance rate for top-tier universities was very high. Unless you were at the bottom of the class, you'd make it. Thinking of this whenever she felt anxious would make Jiang Du feel a little more at ease.

While her Grandma cleared the dishes, she heard the two elders whispering about something in the kitchen. Jiang Du didn't go closer. She quietly returned to her bedroom and opened her diary. A crescent moon was just outside the window, crystal clear, looking a bit like a pale human face.

Jiang Du felt she should wrap up her diary entry, but in the end, she only wrote the word 'He'—bare, without even a name.

One word, a paragraph. A single period.

The most annoying thing after military training was writing a reflection paper. The feeling was just as soul-crushing as writing an essay after a primary school spring outing. The composition books hadn't been distributed yet, and everyone was too stingy to even hand in a notebook, afraid the Chinese teacher would just sell it as trash—the loss would outweigh the gain. So, they simply tore a page from their notebooks and started writing the same old nonsense.

So, the stack of papers they collected was uneven and looked quite shabby. Jiang Du sorted them in order by size. Wang Jingjing complained as she helped, saying that Jiang Du was the type of person who liked to do these thankless and terribly troublesome good deeds.

"I'm the Chinese class representative. It's my duty to organize my classmates' homework neatly for the teacher." When Jiang Du smiled, a row of small, rice-like teeth would show, and her eyes would curve into crescents.

Wang Jingjing adopted a worldly-wise tone, "I bet the Chinese teacher doesn't even read them. It's just a formality. What you're doing is completely unnecessary."

Jiang Du said softly, "I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. I don't think it's unnecessary."

"You're so stubborn." Wang Jingjing grinned and poked her on the forehead.

When she went to deliver the essays, she passed by the door of Class One as usual. In the hallway, Wei Qingyue was explaining a problem to Zhang Xiaoqiang. One hand was in his pocket, while the other gestured over Zhang Xiaoqiang's materials as if commanding an empire. Whatever he did, he seemed very casual. When Jiang Du saw him, her heart gave a little tremble, and she couldn't tell if it was from happiness or nervousness.

Convergence of Three Energies.

Jiang Du didn't know why her thoughts had drifted to The Storm Riders; it was her and Wang Jingjing's childhood favorite.

Wei Qingyue had a very Bu Jingyun vibe... In just a few short seconds, an epic and moving TV drama had already played out in Jiang Du's mind.

No one saw her, but her face turned red. She carefully and quickly glanced at the two model top students out of the corner of her eye, as if she were harboring some shameful secret.

When one's mind wanders, it's easy to make a fool of oneself. All of Jiang Du's attention was on the two people in the hallway. A boy running out of the back door bumped into her, and the essay papers scattered all over the floor.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Along with the boy's apology, Zhang Xiaoqiang looked over at the sound. She tucked her materials under her arm and ran over to help Jiang Du pick up the essays.

Jiang Du felt like her whole body was about to burst into flames. She scrambled around in a flurry, her body stiff, her limbs uncoordinated, as if she were completely enveloped by a certain someone's omnipresent gaze. But the truth was, Wei Qingyue had only glanced over coolly, recognized Jiang Du, and shown no interest. He turned his head and looked out the window.

An autumn wind suddenly rose, making the half-yellow, half-green leaves on the branches tremble as if about to fall.

Wei Qingyue was lost in thought for a moment.

He left only his back for Jiang Du, who was already looking his way. He and she didn't even share a single glance. He didn't help, either. Evidently, Wei Qingyue was quite self-centered. His speech at the opening ceremony wasn't because he was particularly considerate of the students suffering under the sun; it was purely because he found the school leaders' speeches boring. He also knew very well that the teachers' subsequent criticism wouldn't be too severe. For no other reason than that he was the student with the best grades in the school. As long as he didn't do anything too outrageous or break the rules, no one would really hold him accountable. He was pure when he was pure, but he also understood how the world worked.

Jiang Du's eyes stung slightly. She quietly thanked Zhang Xiaoqiang, then silently averted her gaze and almost jogged down the stairs.

The wind was strong, instantly messing up her hair, but it couldn't blow away the deep melancholy.

She was in the class next to his. They had no interactions.

Jiang Du suddenly wished she could throw up on him again. That way, she could return his clothes once more.

That wasn't a good thought, either. The young girl hugged the essay papers tightly, as if she were hugging all the secrets of her adolescence.

On the way back, the hallway was empty. Jiang Du stared blankly at the spot where Wei Qingyue had been standing. There was nothing there.

Her heart felt just as blank and empty.

Back at her seat, Wang Jingjing's eyes were as bright as light bulbs, shining brightly. Before Jiang Du could even sit down, she impatiently pulled her over and said seriously, "Wei Qingyue smiled at me! You know Wei Qingyue from Class One, right? He likes me."

Wang Jingjing was just that confident.

Jiang Du felt her heart stop for a second. She forced herself to remain calm, but the thunderous beating of her heart almost made her voice sound different from usual.

But she still tried her best to act nonchalant, pretending to recall, "The one who gave the speech at the opening ceremony?"

"Yes! I just went to the restroom, and guess what? Wei Qingyue was just coming out of the men's room over there. He asked to borrow some tissue from me, saying a classmate inside had forgotten to bring any." Wang Jingjing suddenly covered her face theatrically, shaking her head. "Aiya, so embarrassing! A boy asking you for tissue at the restroom door, how awkward! But Wei Qingyue is so handsome. He's even handsome when he's borrowing tissue. My head was buzzing, so of course I lent it to him. And then," she pinched Jiang Du's arm hard, her eyes wide, "he smiled at me! Wow, when Wei Qingyue smiles, my little heart... I can't take it, Jiang Du! Quick, give me some heart-attack pills!"

Wang Jingjing's performance was very exaggerated.

Jiang Du was shaken back and forth by her, and a thought flashed through her mind: 'He has never smiled at me.'

'But, what does Wei Qingyue look like when he smiles?'

As Jiang Du thought this, she lowered her gaze slightly, but Wang Jingjing turned her face back up. She said with a grin, "My dear deskmate, I've decided. Starting today, I'm going to pursue Wei Qingyue. He definitely has feelings for me."

Some girls are always very confident. For example, Zhang Xiaoqiang, because she had stellar grades. Another example was Wang Jingjing, who had been loud and boisterous since she was a child, doing whatever she wanted. Amidst her own heartbeat, which was as chaotic as overgrown weeds, Jiang Du found her voice:

"You... how are you going to pursue him?"

Wang Jingjing gave Jiang Du a mysterious wink. "Jiang Du, help me write a love letter. You write it, and I'll copy it over. This way... aren't you saving money to buy that set of Famous Masters of Classical Poetry from Zhonghua Book Company? There are thirty-one volumes in total. How about I give you ten of them? Am I a good friend or what?"