Jiang Luxi swept the room with a broom, then began mopping the floor.
Cheng Xing watched her but said nothing. He knew it wouldn't make a difference to stop her. Better to let her finish and head home earlier. The days were getting shorter with the colder weather, and darkness fell quickly.
Fortunately, this wasn't Scholar Street. From here to Pinghu, it would take just over an hour by bicycle. If she pedaled faster, she could make it home before dark.
After mopping, Jiang Luxi grabbed the steamed dumplings from the table and made her way to the door.
"Wait a moment," Cheng Xing called out suddenly.
She turned, puzzled.
"Be careful," he said.
Jiang Luxi didn't respond. She turned back, opened the gate, and pushed her bicycle outside. After getting it through, she returned to close the gate.
Cheng Xing smiled and shook his head. He'd thought she'd forgotten something when she came back, but she just wanted to shut the gate.
After locking the door, Cheng Xing also left. He stopped by a stationery store to buy two boxes of chalk and a small blackboard.
When he returned home, his parents called, informing him they'd be working late and that he should buy or prepare dinner himself. Cheng Xing was used to it. Over the past two years, this had been their busiest season. Sundays were the only times they weren't completely tied up.
Grabbing a quick meal outside, he returned home and spent some time typing on his computer.
In 2010, computers had one significant flaw: The input methods lacked support for user-specific word dictionaries. This limited the input systems' ability to learn and adapt to individual typing habits, hindering personalized suggestions for words and phrases. For a seasoned writer like Cheng Xing, who relied on frequently used terms, this slowed him down. He had to scroll through options to find the correct characters, unlike in his previous life when input systems memorized his preferences.
Even so, typing remained far quicker than handwriting, though it came with a sense of loss. Gone were the days of handwritten drafts piling up. Technology advanced, but nostalgia was left behind.
In his previous life, Cheng Xing had loved reading handwritten manuscripts. Creating a masterpiece required endless revisions, and he once dreamt of retreating to a remote mountain, abandoning worldly distractions, and writing a novel by hand—an impractical fantasy, but one that embodied the unique romance of writers.
Progress was slow. After a week of nightly revisions, he'd barely completed five to six thousand words—just the first two chapters of "Ancheng".
The story began in senior high and used flashbacks to recount Cheng Xing's childhood and early school years. In his previous life, it ended with his mother's illness. To raise 100,000 yuan for her treatment, Cheng Xing broke the law and ended up in prison. The novel concluded with his release and his reunion with Jiang Luxi outside the gates of Ancheng No. 1 High School.
"Ancheng" was a reflection of Cheng Xing's early life. For emotional impact, he had altered the ending in the novel. In reality, if not for Jiang Luxi's help, his life might have spiraled out of control.
During his darkest moments, Cheng Xing had faced thoughts he'd rather not revisit.
In the novel, the male protagonist was named Chen Xing, and the female protagonist Cheng Qing. Cheng Xing had swapped their surnames, while Jiang Luxi's character was simply called Luxi.
Jiang Luxi's role in the story was minimal. In his previous life, Cheng Xing didn't have many memories of her from their youth. She was a reserved and enigmatic class monitor—brilliant, beautiful, but distant.
Yet one line from her character became iconic in both the novel and its film adaptation: "People like you will end up in prison sooner or later."
She had directed it at a group of delinquents, including Cheng Xing.
In the end, her words came true.
The novel carried a strong sense of fate. The homeroom teacher, nicknamed "Warden," further underscored this. The story opened with:
"My name is Chen Xing. I'm 17, a delinquent who loves to fight and skip school."
What future awaited a student who spent his days fighting and avoiding studies? Prison.
Staring at the screen, Cheng Xing drifted into thought. He reached for a pack of cigarettes, lighting one.
Cheng Xing, who had once quit smoking while writing, found himself relapsing due to the influence of rewriting "Ancheng".
This story wasn't just fiction—it carried the weight of memories, pain, and regret from his previous life.
After finishing the cigarette, he shut down the computer, opened a window, took a shower, and went to bed. Tomorrow was another day of lessons. He needed rest.
The next morning, Cheng Xing woke to find his parents had already left for work.
He glanced at the clock—it was past seven.
After freshening up, he went out to buy breakfast. When he returned, Jiang Luxi was waiting at his doorstep with her bicycle.
"What a coincidence! I just bought breakfast. Let's eat together," Cheng Xing offered.
"No, thank you," she replied, shaking her head. "I've already eaten at home."
She hesitated before adding, "This time, I really did."
The ride from her house to Cheng Xing's was now just an hour, allowing her to eat before leaving. Her grandmother was awake by six, so Jiang Luxi no longer worried about disturbing her.
"So, you skipped breakfast yesterday?" Cheng Xing asked, smiling.
Jiang Luxi's gaze wandered into the distance.
Unfortunately, there was no pond this time, nor white geese splashing in the water.