9:00 AM.
It was a bright, sunny day in the Provincial City.
The overcast sky that had loomed over the city for the past few days had finally cleared completely.
Sunlight poured down unimpeded, spilling onto the still-damp asphalt and reflecting in a shimmering layer of light.
The leaves of the plane trees along the road rustled in the gentle breeze.
The group from City No.1 Middle School walked out of the guesthouse gates.
Three days ago, they had carried their schoolbags with hunched shoulders, the whole group looking like they wanted to hide behind Chen Zhuo. They had walked with a sigh at nearly every step.
But now.
The road was the same road, the trees were the same trees, and the small stall selling fried dough sticks by the roadside was still emitting plumes of smoke.
But in their eyes, everything was different.
Wang Yang walked at the very front of the group.
Ever since learning he’d won a provincial first-prize award, the kid had been in a state of half-mad euphoria.
He had woken up earlier than the chickens today, borrowed an iron from the front desk, and pressed his dark blue school uniform, which was so worn it had started to fade.
The collar of his uniform was neatly folded, and his zipper was pulled all the way up to his chin.
He was even marching out of step with himself.
Left arm forward, left leg forward.
Right arm forward, right leg forward.
But he was completely unaware of it himself.
His hands kept diving in and out of his pockets, patting the left one, then the right.
There was actually nothing in them, but he felt as if his first-prize certificate was tucked inside, and he couldn’t feel at ease without checking.
"Team Leader."
Wang Yang gave a goofy chuckle. This was already the eighth time he had called out to Chen Zhuo on their walk.
"Hm?"
Chen Zhuo walked in the middle of the group, his steps steady.
"Are we really number one? And I’m eighteenth?"
"Yes, eighteenth place. It was written in black and white."
Chen Zhuo replied helplessly.
"If you ask one more time, I’m going to tell Old Zhao to cross your name off the list."
"Hehe, no, no, don’t."
Wang Yang scratched his head. He had wet his hair to plaster it down, but his hurried pace had caused a stubborn cowlick to spring back up.
"It’s just... it feels like a dream. Really. When I walked out of the exam that day, I felt like jumping off the school building."
While Wang Yang continued his goofy celebration, the chubby Liu Kai walked beside him.
The big guy usually hated the heat when he walked, but today, he had buttoned his uniform up tight.
He puffed out his round belly, managing to walk with the air of someone on military parade.
His small eyes, usually squinted into slits, were now wide open. Whenever students in other schools’ uniforms passed by, he would intentionally cough twice and puff out his chest, making the "City No.1 Middle School" characters on it stand out even more.
"Hey, Brother Yang."
Liu Kai muttered under his breath.
"When they hand out the certificates, do you think we can open the red cover to take a peek inside first?"
"Peek my ass."
Wang Yang replied without turning his head, his mouth split into a grin that reached his ears.
"We have to take that home and worship it. I’m planning to go to a photo studio to get it laminated first, to make it moisture-proof."
"True."
Liu Kai nodded in deep agreement.
"I’m gonna have my mom make me a meal of braised pork. No, two meals. I’ve already thought it through. When I get back, I’m going to eat that braised meat shop downstairs out of house and home."
Zhao Chen was on the other side, bragging to Li Hao and Zhang Wei from the physics team.
"I’m telling you, I knew there was something off about that problem. Even though I didn’t solve it, my intuition told me there was definitely a trap. That’s a master’s intuition, you get me?"
Li Hao, holding a bottle of water, was in such a good mood that he couldn’t be bothered to call him out.
"Yeah, yeah, your intuition is the best. So how come you only got a provincial third-prize?"
"What’s wrong with a third-prize?"
Zhao Chen’s eyes widened in a glare.
"A provincial third-prize! Go and ask around. In our city, even at No. 2 or No. 3 Middle School, how many people get a provincial third-prize? This is an honor! When I get back, I’ll be able to swagger all over town!"
The two girls, Nan Xiaoyun and Lin Xiao, were walking in the middle of the group.
They had both made a special effort to tidy themselves up a bit today.
Nan Xiaoyun had retied her hair into a ponytail, making her look more spirited, and Lin Xiao had also neatened her uniform collar.
The two girls walked arm in arm, truly happy.
The mountain that had been weighing on their hearts for years—the pressure for bonus points on the high school entrance exam, their parents’ expectations, their teachers’ cold stares...
In this moment, it was all gone.
Nan Xiaoyun was tightly clutching the small wooden bead, the good luck charm Chen Zhuo had bought for them at the museum yesterday.
Even though she knew her results came from the exam, not from a wish, she still felt the bead was magical.
"Xiaoxiao, do you think our homeroom teacher will be shocked when we get back?"
Nan Xiaoyun asked in a low voice, her cheeks flushed red.
"Definitely."
Lin Xiao smiled, lips pressed together, the joy in her eyes and at the corners of her mouth impossible to hide.
"I only scored a 110 on math in the last mock exam. Coming back with a provincial second-prize, our teacher’s glasses will probably fall right off his face."
The two girls whispered to each other, debating whether they should call their families first when they got back, or just slap the certificates down on the dinner table to give their parents a surprise.
Li Hao walked behind Chen Zhuo, gazing at that not-so-broad back, the worship in his eyes practically overflowing.
It was this person, who, on that hopeless night in that small, greasy diner, had told them:
Don’t cry. We can win.
And they really did win.
And what a win it was—so stunning, it defied all reason.
Everyone won an award.
Perfect scores in two subjects.
First in the entire province.
He was like a legendary hero descending from the heavens.
’He really was. So damn cool!’
Now, as for our dear Old Zhao and Old Zhou.
Old Zhao walked on the far left of the group.
His briefcase, which had been with him for over a decade, was usually carried with painstaking care.
It held his students’ exam admission tickets, their ID cards, and all sorts of review materials. It was his lifeline, and his responsibility.
But now.
That same briefcase was being swung in his hand.
Keeping time with his steps, the bag swung back and forth, tracing joyful arcs in the air.
A few times, it nearly flew into the roadside bushes, but Old Zhao didn’t care. With a flick of his wrist, he’d just swing it back.
His face was ruddy and glowing with happiness.
He was even humming a tune.
It wasn’t some pop song, but a snippet from some unknown Qinqiang or local opera. The melody was high-pitched, and though he was terribly off-key, he hummed with great relish, shaking his head to the rhythm.
"...Three cannon shots outside the camp gate... I, Old Bao..."
Old Zhou walked on the right side of the group.
Old Zhou had unbuttoned the top two buttons of the brown jacket he wore year-round, revealing the white shirt underneath.
When the wind blew, the corners of his jacket fluttered, giving him a touch of youthful abandon.
He walked with long strides, stopping every few steps to pretend to admire the scenery, when in reality he was turning back to look at his kids.
As he watched them, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
"Heheh."
After laughing, he felt he had lost his composure, so he quickly coughed and put on a stern face.
But it didn’t last three seconds. Upon seeing Li Hao’s goofy, smiling face, the corners of Old Zhou’s mouth uncontrollably stretched back to his ears again.
Although the physics team didn’t win a first-prize award this time, two second-prize awards were still a solid achievement.
The key was Chen Zhuo.
A perfect score in physics.
This was a first in the entire history of City No.1 Middle School.
Right now, Old Zhou found even the roadside telephone poles to be handsome, and the traffic lights he usually found glaring now seemed wonderfully festive.
"Old Zhao."
Old Zhou suddenly called out.
"Ah?"
Old Zhao stopped humming his opera and turned his head.
"What’s up?"
"When we get to the auditorium, where should we sit?"
Old Zhou’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unconcealable, child-like anticipation.
"Should we sit in the back corner, or..."
In previous years, schools from prefecture-level cities like theirs would always consciously squeeze into the back corners.
From that kind of spot, you couldn’t hear the leaders’ speeches clearly, nor could you see the awards stage. It was like you were just there to make up the numbers.
Old Zhao stopped in his tracks.
He tucked the briefcase he’d been swinging wildly under his arm, puffed out his chest, and lifted his chin slightly.
"The corner? Are you kidding me!"
Old Zhao’s voice was loud and full of confidence, making Wang Yang, who was standing beside him, jump.
"We’re there to accept awards! First-prize! Grand-prize! We’re the main characters!"
"We have to sit in the front! The third row... no, the second row! We’ll sit right under the nose of the Provincial Experimental School’s principal!"
"Right! The front row!"
Old Zhou nodded vigorously, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out.
"Let them get a good look! City No.1 Middle School is no pushover! Our students are better than theirs!"
The two old men looked at each other and simultaneously burst into hearty laughter.
The sound of their laughter echoed through the morning streets, causing passersby to turn and stare.
But they didn’t care.

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