Diagnosed with a terminal illness, Zhuang Zi'ang didn't know who to tell the news to at first.
Most people would think of their parents, but his situation was a bit special.
His father, Zhuang Wenzhao, and mother, Xu Hui, had divorced when Zhuang Zi'ang was five years old.
Most professions in this world require training and examinations to be employed.
For example, driving requires a driver's license, and teaching requires a teacher's qualification certificate.
But to be a parent, one doesn't need to pass an exam; with just a whim or an accident, a life can be brought into this world.
Few people care if the child wants to come.
Zhuang Zi'ang's childhood was very unhappy; ever since he could remember, his parents were almost always in endless arguments.
The tables and chairs at home were often askew, and the floor was covered with glass shards and ceramic pieces.
Finally, on an ordinary day, they completely went their separate ways.
During the divorce negotiations, Zhuang Wenzhao initially didn't want Zhuang Zi'ang, always feeling that having a child would affect his ability to remarry.
Eventually, with the intervention of his grandparents, and using the reason of continuing the family line, Zhuang Zi'ang was kept at home.
A year later, Zhuang Wenzhao brought back a heavily made-up woman.
Two years later, they had their own son.
In fairy tales, children with stepmothers often lead miserable lives.
Although reality isn't that exaggerated, one can't avoid having to watch people's expressions and be at their beck and call.
Even though it was his own home, he often felt like he was living under someone else's roof.
His mother, Xu Hui, did not remarry; as a train attendant, she was constantly on the go, returning only once every ten to fifteen days.
She rented a small apartment near the school, and sometimes when Zhuang Zi'ang didn't want to go home, he would stay there for a few days.
Gradually, he became even more of an outsider in his own home.
His parents were both at work at this time, and Zhuang Zi'ang didn't want to disturb them. He went to the utility corner on the balcony, hesitated for a long time, and then dialed a landline number.
The phone rang for a long time before someone finally picked up.
An old voice came through: "Hello, who are you looking for?"
Tears welled up in Zhuang Zi'ang's eyes: "Grandpa, it's Zi'ang, I miss you."
Zhuang Jianguo immediately said happily: "Zi'ang, Grandpa misses you too."
Then he loudly called his wife, asking her to listen to their grandson's call together.
Zhuang Zi'ang usually didn't feel much familial affection, only during summer and winter breaks, when he went to his grandparents' house in the countryside, did he find a rare spiritual comfort from the two kind old people.
"Grandpa, Grandma, I'll be back to see you this weekend." Zhuang Zi'ang tried to make his tone sound natural.
"No need, your studies are demanding right now, don't worry about us, just come back during summer vacation," Zhuang Jianguo said with a chuckle.
"Then... alright, Grandpa, Grandma, please take care of yourselves, I have class now." Zhuang Zi'ang quickly found an excuse and hung up the phone.
Otherwise, he would surely cry out loud.
He truly didn't have the courage to tell the two people he loved most this shocking bad news.
If that day truly came, how heartbroken would they be?
The class bell rang at this moment.
Zhuang Zi'ang wiped away his tears, feigned calmness, and returned to his seat.
He tried to forget his sorrow and immerse himself in the ocean of knowledge.
The class schedule was written on the far right of the blackboard; next were two consecutive math classes.
"Extinction Convent Master" Wu Qiufang, clutching her textbook, walked onto the podium.
Math class had a remarkably good hypnotic effect.
Only five minutes had passed, and more than half the students were already drowsy.
Li Huangxuan, while Wu Qiufang turned to write on the blackboard, reached into his desk and pulled out a copy of "Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils."
He casually flipped it open, and it was a classic scene.
The Eighteen Flying Riders of Yan Yun, galloping like tigers, raising dust and smoke.
"Son, are you out of your mind, reading a novel during Extinction Convent Master's class?" Zhuang Zi'ang lowered his voice to remind his deskmate.
Li Huangxuan, however, was determined to go his own way, defying the rules.
The swordplay and martial arts, the swift retribution of the martial arts world, were far more interesting than math formulas.
Zhuang Zi'ang, as a good student, sat upright, fully attentive.
But unlike before, he could only see Teacher Wu's mouth moving, not a single word registered.
It was as if the warmth of life was slowly being drained from his body.
"Young Master Murong, Chief Zhuang, Old Monster Ding, even if all three of you come at me, what have I, Xiao, to fear?"
Li Huangxuan was engrossed in the exciting part when he suddenly felt a murderous aura approaching.
He looked up and met Wu Qiufang's sharp gaze.
"Li Huangxuan, come to the blackboard and solve this problem."
Teachers standing on the podium can often see students' small movements clearly.
Wu Qiufang's teaching style had always been strict; she wouldn't tolerate any slacking.
Li Huangxuan slowly walked to the podium, holding a piece of chalk, and stood frozen like a statue before the inscrutable problem on the blackboard.
Such a difficult problem, who could solve it apart from those emotionless study machines?
Wu Qiufang's face was ashen: "With your math grades, you still have the nerve to read novels in class? You sit next to Zhuang Zi'ang, don't you know to learn more from him?"
Li Huangxuan mumbled: "He was the one who bought me the novel!"
"Confiscated. You go stand at the back and listen to the class," Wu Qiufang reprimanded.
Then she changed to a gentler tone: "Zhuang Zi'ang, you come and solve this problem, set a good example for your classmates."
Zhuang Zi'ang, as a super academic ace, almost always scored full marks in math exams.
Solving a problem of this difficulty was effortless for him.
But when Zhuang Zi'ang heard the teacher call him, he clearly froze for a moment, as if his soul had wandered somewhere and was suddenly pulled back.
He came to the blackboard but stood there for a long time, unable to write.
His mind was filled with that diagnosis report, or rather, that death warrant.
The numbers and symbols that were once so familiar now seemed utterly strange.
"Zhuang Zi'ang, what's wrong?" Wu Qiufang asked, surprised.
"Teacher Wu, I don't know how," Zhuang Zi'ang replied, choked up.
"How is that possible?" Wu Qiufang knew Zhuang Zi'ang; a math problem of this level would absolutely not stump him.
She had asked Zhuang Zi'ang to solve the problem specifically to highlight Li Huangxuan's shortcomings, but she didn't expect it to backfire.
Zhuang Zi'ang's shoulders trembled slightly, and the piece of chalk in his hand fell to the floor.
Uncooperative tears welled up again.
He was completely enveloped by immense sorrow, like a lonely child.
Wu Qiufang felt a pang of sympathy and wanted to hug him.
The students looked on, puzzled, and began to whisper among themselves.
"This kind of problem can stump Zhuang Zi'ang? What a joke!"
"An academic ace is an academic ace; he can cry when he can't solve a math problem."
"Mushi, did he confess to you and you rejected him?"
...
Lin Mushi widened her beautiful eyes, staring at Zhuang Zi'ang's back, and suddenly felt a pang in her heart.
After being friends for so long, she had never seen Zhuang Zi'ang this sad.
He must have a secret.
"Zhuang Zi'ang, don't cry anymore, go back!" Wu Qiufang comforted softly.
"Teacher Wu, I want to go to the restroom." Zhuang Zi'ang kept sobbing.
Wu Qiufang sighed softly and nodded silently.
Teachers are always a bit more lenient with good students.
Stepping out of the classroom and into the corridor, Zhuang Zi'ang completely lost control and cried his heart out.
Every teacher, every classmate, made him deeply attached.
Only three months left, and then they would be separated by life and death.
Never to meet again.