Mid-May.
The rainy season of the south had yet to officially arrive, but the humidity in the air was already noticeably on the rise.
The wind on one’s face no longer had the crispness of spring, instead carrying a hint of stickiness.
「The Provincial City.」
The greenbelts on either side of the highway receded swiftly behind them.
The closer they got to the city proper, the thicker the trees lining the road became, their canopies joining together to form a green tunnel.
A black Santana 2000 drove steadily along the asphalt road.
The air conditioning was on in the car, and the cold air blowing from the vents condensed into a thin layer of fog on the windows.
Chen Zhuo sat in the back seat.
He gazed out the window.
The buildings in the Provincial City were much taller than those in his own city.
There were more cars on the road, too. Bicycles converged into a massive stream, inching along slowly at the traffic lights.
Chen Zhuo’s expression was placid.
The passing streetscape was reflected in his glasses.
He had grown taller.
In the past six months, his height had shot up to just over one and a half meters—perhaps due to the nutritional supplements Zhang Qiang’s family occasionally sent over, or perhaps because his bones had finally hit a growth spurt.
He still wasn’t tall for a junior high student.
But compared to the pipsqueak who was barely 1.4 meters tall when he first started junior high six months ago, the Chen Zhuo of today was, at least in terms of build, a normal, if slightly thin, teenager.
The Santana turned onto a street lined with camphor trees.
The scent of camphor was rich and heavy.
An imposing school gate appeared up ahead.
The gate was built of grayish-white stone, with several large characters carved into it.
Affiliated High School of Normal University.
The best school in the Provincial City, and also the training base for this year’s provincial physics team.
The car paused at the entrance.
Old Zhao, sitting in the passenger seat, rolled down the window and handed over a pass stamped with a red seal.
The guard glanced at it and raised the barrier gate.
The Santana drove slowly onto campus.
The Affiliated High School’s campus was large and had a long history.
Old red-brick academic buildings were everywhere, their walls covered in dense ivy.
Rows upon rows of bicycles were parked along the sides of the road.
It was the weekend, so the campus wasn’t crowded. Occasionally, a few students in the Affiliated High School uniform would walk by, clutching books.
The car finally stopped in front of an old-looking dormitory building.
Below the building was a small open area with two large plane trees.
The car door opened.
Old Zhao got out, walked to the trunk, took out the key, and unlocked it.
He reached in and grabbed the black backpack.
The bag was incredibly heavy, stretched completely out of shape until it resembled a round, black iron ball.
Old Zhao heaved it upward.
The muscles in his arm tensed as he managed to lift the school bag out.
Chen Zhuo pushed open his door and stepped out.
A wave of heat, carrying the scent of camphor trees, rushed over him.
Carrying the bag, Old Zhao walked into the shade of the plane trees.
He didn’t immediately hand the bag to Chen Zhuo.
Instead, he set it down on the bluestone slab at his feet.
Old Zhao pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket, took one out, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He looked at Chen Zhuo standing before him.
With his hands on his hips, he let out a soft sigh.
"We’re here."
Old Zhao glanced at the old buildings around them.
"The provincial team’s training camp is right here. The top few scorers from the entire province are all in this building."
Chen Zhuo nodded, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.
"You’re reserved and not very talkative."
Old Zhao began to offer his advice.
His voice wasn’t loud, but he spoke very slowly, as if trying to cram every word into Chen Zhuo’s brain.
"Everyone here is the cream of the crop from their cities. Geniuses, you know, they all have proud tempers."
"You boys will be sharing a room, seeing each other all the time."
"So if anything comes up, keep your temper in check. Don’t get into a heated argument with anyone over how to solve a problem or some other trivial matter."
Old Zhao paused.
Looking at Chen Zhuo’s calm face, he added another sentence.
"Of course, when you run into those kids from the Provincial Experimental School, don’t be intimidated."
"Your scores are higher than all of theirs—perfect in two subjects. That gives you the right to be confident."
"Don’t go looking for trouble, but don’t let them think that people from our City No. 1 Middle School are easy to bully."
Chen Zhuo looked at Old Zhao.
There were several deep wrinkles at the corners of Old Zhao’s eyes, and the hair at his temples was already turning gray.
Chen Zhuo pushed up his glasses.
"I understand, Teacher Zhao."
Old Zhao looked down at the bulging backpack.
He stuck out his foot and gave it a light kick.
A muffled clanking of metal cans came from inside.
"All this random junk food that kid Zhang Qiang stuffed in here for you."
Old Zhao frowned.
"The beef jerky is too dry. Don’t eat too much of it, it’ll make you agitated."
"In this hot weather, if you get worked up, your brain won’t work properly."
"You should eat in the cafeteria when it’s time to eat. The food at the Affiliated High School is famous throughout the province. Their braised pork is to die for. Eat more meat."
"Don’t stay up too late reading. Go to bed on time when it’s lights out in the dorm. And drink lots of water."
Old Zhao went on like this for nearly ten minutes.
From how to get along with his roommates all the way to not kicking off his blanket at night.
This was the heartfelt concern of a supervising teacher for his school’s single, most promising student.
There were no official platitudes, just the sort of fussy details a nagging mother would mention.
Chen Zhuo listened quietly.
He didn’t interrupt, nor did he show any sign of impatience.
He just stood in the shade, watching the sunlight filter through the gaps in the leaves and land on Old Zhao’s clothes.
When Old Zhao finally finished his last sentence, Chen Zhuo stepped forward.
He lifted the heavy backpack with one hand.
The weight of the bag pressed down on his thin shoulder for a moment, but he quickly adjusted his posture and stood up straight.
"Teacher Zhao, I’ll remember."
Chen Zhuo looked at Old Zhao.
"You should head back. Drive safely."
Old Zhao nodded.
He raised his hand, as if to pat Chen Zhuo’s shoulder, but stopped it in midair and pulled it back.
"Alright, go on in. Second floor, dorm 204."
Old Zhao turned and got into the car.
The door closed.
The Santana made a U-turn and slowly drove out of the campus, down the camphor-lined street.
Chen Zhuo stood downstairs.
He watched the car’s exhaust disappear around the corner.
He turned around.
Still holding the backpack that Zhang Qiang had stuffed to the point of bursting, he walked into the somewhat dim lobby of the dormitory building.
The hallway had the faint smell of mothballs.
Chen Zhuo went up the stairs to the second floor.
The corridor was long, lined with green wooden doors on both sides.
White plastic room numbers were nailed to them.
Chen Zhuo stopped in front of dorm room 204.
The door was ajar, leaving a gap about two fingers wide.
Before he even pushed the door, he could hear voices from inside.
One voice was cheerful and spoke extremely fast.
It carried a natural, easy familiarity and an overabundance of energy.
"...I’m telling you, whoever wrote the last big question on this physics test was a total psycho. The hidden conditions in the problem statement were just disgusting!"
"I was in the exam room, guessing and checking, and I somehow managed to fudge an answer using dimensional analysis."
"Shian, how did you solve it?"
Then came a much gentler voice, tinged with a smile.
"I didn’t use dimensional analysis. The problem was actually a classic damped oscillation model. You just had to plug in the initial conditions and derive it step by step."
The voice was unhurried and calm, very pleasant to listen to.
"Yeah, yeah, you’ve got the brains for it. I, on the other hand, was sweating bullets," the fast-talking voice continued.
Chen Zhuo stood outside the door.
He placed his hand on the green wooden door.
And gave it a gentle push.
CREAK~
The old hinges let out a slightly grating scrape.

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