Time flew, and in the blink of an eye, the evening self-study session was over.
In the third year of high school, the schedule was grueling. The day began with a morning self-study session, followed by four classes. After lunch came an afternoon self-study session, which was notably long. During the first and second years of high school, this time had been reserved for a nap, especially during the summer. The nap usually lasted over an hour. But for third-year students, teachers had converted it into yet another study block.
Afternoons consisted of four more classes, followed by two evening self-study sessions. Altogether, students endured twelve sessions of study each day—morning, afternoon, and evening combined.
Even with such a packed schedule, many still felt that time was slipping through their fingers. Students would arrive before morning self-study to cram in extra memorization or stay late after evening self-study to finish homework.
In Ancheng, a poor and backward city, the drive to study was fueled by more than ambition—it was a lifeline. Many children had grown up witnessing their parents' backbreaking labor just to make ends meet. The words emblazoned on the school walls, "Study changes destiny, knowledge creates the future," weren't just slogans—they were gospel.
No one wanted to spend their future toiling on construction sites or eking out a living on a tiny plot of farmland in their impoverished hometown. Everyone knew how tough farming was.
"A farmer feeds the world, but often goes hungry themselves." The phrase wasn't merely a saying; it was a painful truth.
Even the rowdiest troublemakers, who dared to defy teachers or took pride in being unruly, feared one thing: "I'll call your parents."
When parents sat down to talk, their disappointment cutting deeper than any punishment, even the most hardened hearts softened. The parents' stories of exhaustion and sacrifice struck a nerve that few dared to ignore.
Most students accepted into Ancheng No. 1 High School carried the weight of their families' hopes. Outliers like Cheng Xing, whose admission had come through unconventional means, were rare. For most, gaining entry was a badge of honor, earned through grit and academic excellence. These students were often the top performers from their middle schools.
As Wang Cheng had once remarked, many children in their community didn't even finish nine years of basic education. In this context, the fact that both he and Jiang Luxi had been admitted to Ancheng No. 1 High School was no small feat. In some rural towns, not a single student made it to such a prestigious institution.
Sometimes, Cheng Xing thought back to his family's misfortunes. Though the tragedy had been devastating, it forced him to grow up quickly. His mother's relentless work ethic, even as it contributed to her illness, had left a lasting impression on him. It was through hardship that Cheng Xing learned about the fragility of human connections—the warmth of genuine care and the coldness of indifference.
If he had continued to rely on his parents and drifted aimlessly, even regression to the past would have been meaningless. Without the lessons of his previous life, his second chance would have been nothing more than a hollow rerun, richer perhaps, but devoid of purpose.
As Cheng Xing packed his things, he glanced at Zhou Yuan, who was also getting ready to leave. "Don't wander off again; let's head home together."
Zhou Yuan lived a bit farther from school, about a twenty-minute walk, but their routes overlapped. Cheng Xing wasn't about to let him slip away like the day before.
"Oh, now you remember I exist?" Zhou Yuan teased with mock indignation. "Yesterday, you were all about giving me the boot so you could hang out with Chen Qing in peace. What happened to that?"
"Don't talk nonsense. Are you coming or not?" Cheng Xing asked, rolling his eyes.
Zhou Yuan smirked. "Of course I'm coming. Just giving you a hard time, that's all."
As Cheng Xing cleared his desk, he shut the ghost storybook Zhou Yuan had lent him and prepared to return it. But just then, Jiang Luxi walked over, cutting through the bustling classroom.
Her serene eyes, calm as autumn waters, landed on Cheng Xing's desk. She was holding the soda and buns that Cheng Xing had bought her earlier that day, clearly intending to return them.
However, as her gaze swept over the desk, it fell on the closed ghost storybook. The explicit illustrations on the cover were now fully visible.
Jiang Luxi froze. Her delicate ears turned crimson, and her expression grew frostier.
"I said this book belongs to Zhou Yuan," Cheng Xing explained quickly, noticing her change in demeanor. "The one I was reading yesterday was also his, and whatever's on the cover—that's his handiwork too. Do you believe me now?"
Ignoring his words, Jiang Luxi placed the soda and buns on his desk. "The things you bought this afternoon," she said curtly before turning to leave.
Cheng Xing stared after her, dumbfounded.
He turned to Zhou Yuan with a glare. "Zhou Yuan, you idiot! Why the hell did you draw that garbage on the book cover?"
Zhou Yuan shrank back, guilty but defensive. He wanted to argue that the original cover had been plain and boring, and he'd only meant to make it more… interesting. But seeing Cheng Xing's frustration, he wisely kept his mouth shut.
"If she doesn't want them, you eat them. I don't take back what I've given," Cheng Xing declared, popping open a can of soda chugging it in one go. He then tossed the buns and soda in Zhou Yuan's direction.
Zhou Yuan caught them, without a word, quietly consumed them.
At night, Zhou Yuan only had a bowl of wontons, and after two evening self-study sessions, he was feeling a bit hungry. Once he finished the buns, he and Cheng Xing stood up and walked out of the classroom together.
As the two disappeared through the classroom door, Wang Yan stared after them, a little surprised. "Chen Qing, isn't Cheng Xing going with you?" she asked.
Chen Qing shrugged casually. "I don't know. But it's fine if he doesn't. It's not like I don't have legs to walk on," she replied with a smile.
Li Dan, tidying up her desk, chuckled and said, "Isn't it obvious? Cheng Xing is acting petty because you turned him down. He's so childish! He doesn't realize that behaving like this will only make him lose you. And we all know how much you hate childish guys."
Chen Qing laughed lightly. "We're not even together, so whatever he does has nothing to do with me," she said, brushing it off. Then, turning to Wang Yan, she added, "Wang Yan, you have to walk home with me today. To be honest, I'm a bit scared to go back alone."
"Sure thing, Mighty Chen," Wang Yan replied with a grin. "I'll let my boyfriend know he's on his own tonight."
"It's a pity my house is on the west side, not on the same route," Li Dan said regretfully.
For the past two years, Cheng Xing had always walked Chen Qing home. Despite their close friendship, neither Wang Yan nor Li Dan had ever accompanied her. Li Dan cherished the bond between the three of them and often imagined them walking home together, laughing and chatting. That image of their friendship meant a lot to her.
Noticing the flicker of regret in Li Dan's eyes, Chen Qing reached over and playfully tapped her nose. "What's there to regret? I'll make it up to you this Saturday. Let's go shopping, and I'll buy you whatever you want."
"Are you serious, Mighty Chen?" Wang Yan asked, laughing.
"When have I ever lied to you?" Chen Qing retorted with mock impatience.
"Then I won't hold back," Wang Yan teased. "You're the richest one among us, so prepare your wallet."
Chen Qing's family wealth was well-known at No. 1 High School. Her father was the director of the Municipal Bureau of Culture, while her mother was a successful businesswoman running several popular restaurants in the city. Their marriage, a typical union of politics and business, had turned a youthful romance into a solid partnership.
"Alright, Li Dan, we're heading out," Chen Qing said as she packed up her things and stood with Wang Yan.
"Go ahead, go ahead," Li Dan replied with a smile.
Chen Qing and Wang Yan nodded in farewell and left the classroom together. After tidying up, Li Dan stayed behind, waiting for one of her classmates to join her before they left together.
The lively classroom soon fell silent.
At her desk, Jiang Luxi had been focused on solving the initial problems of the math test the teacher had handed out during the evening session. When she finally put down her pen and looked up, she realized the classroom was completely empty.