As the saying goes, there's always a solution to every problem. This contract had been prepared by Cheng Xing a long time ago. The reason he insisted on returning from his hometown on this specific day, besides needing to review his coursework, was to resolve Jiang Luxi's meal issue.
If Jiang Luxi had done nothing for him in her past life, he would have given up after a few failed attempts to persuade her. He would have reasoned that he had done his part, and if she didn't accept his goodwill, it wasn't his responsibility anymore. After all, he would have a clear conscience.
But Jiang Luxi had given him hope in his darkest moments, and because of that, Cheng Xing couldn't bear to stand by and watch her eat cold steamed buns or sweet potatoes every day for lunch.
After days of contemplation, he finally came up with a solution.
With Jiang Luxi's strong principles, it was impossible to help her directly. He knew that anything else—like last time, when he had forcibly bought her band-aids—wouldn't work. She would refuse, no matter his intentions. After buying her the band-aids, she had returned the money, even adding a bottle of Coke to repay the favor.
This time, he needed a flawless plan.
"What do you want to eat?" Cheng Xing asked.
"Anything," Jiang Luxi replied.
"Any specific dishes you're craving?" he asked again.
"Anything's fine," she repeated.
Cheng Xing let out a silent sigh.
Forget it. Without pushing further, he headed to the same Shaxian Snack restaurant they'd visited before, buying two large portions of wontons. He remembered she'd enjoyed them the last time.
Returning with the wontons, they sat at the table and ate together.
Cheng Xing turned on the TV. Familiar music and images filled the screen.
The TV was playing the most popular drama at the time, Chinese Paladin 3. The background song, "Forget Time," performed by Hu Ge, resonated through the room.
Time flies, like the wind blows
The past is gone, like the fallen snow
I close my eyes, and see your face
In my dreams, we embrace
This drama was one Cheng Xing had watched countless times in his past life. It first aired on local channels in 2009, just like Chinese Paladin 1, which initially didn't broadcast on provincial satellite channels. The first time Chinese Paladin 3 aired on a satellite channel was in February 2010 as part of Jiangsu TV's New Year lineup. Its popularity was immense—so much so that internet cafes were filled with people watching it, aside from gamers.
These two series had turned Hu Ge into an idol, especially for young men who dreamed of the world of xianxia (immortal heroes).
No boy could resist the carefree, heroic Li Xiaoyao, nor would they reject characters like Feipeng or Long Yang. Knights, gods, generals—these were the symbols of every boy's youthful dream of becoming a hero.
After finishing their meal, they resumed studying.
Around five o'clock, Jiang Luxi corrected one of Cheng Xing's exercises. Holding the workbook, she approached him.
"This question is wrong," she said, pointing at his solution. "It should be solved like this..."
"We'll leave it for tomorrow; it's almost five," Cheng Xing interrupted, looking at her.
Jiang Luxi lifted her head, suddenly aware of how close they were. His refined, handsome face was just inches away. Distracted by the problem earlier, she hadn't noticed.
Silently, she stepped back. "It won't take long."
Cheng Xing closed the workbook, smiling. "It's getting dark earlier after Mid-Autumn Festival. If you leave now, you'll get home on time. Stay longer, and you'll be walking home in the dark."
Jiang Luxi stared at him, expression unreadable.
"What? Don't think you're the only stubborn one. I can be just as stubborn," he said, glancing at the clock. "It's five now. Hurry home, and be careful on the way."
Jiang Luxi nodded, then wheeled her bike out of the yard, carefully closing the gate behind her.
Watching her disappear down the street, Cheng Xing stretched and poured himself a cup of hot water from the water dispenser. Then, he returned to his room.
He opened his computer and resumed writing Ancheng. Since school kept him busy, Cheng Xing rarely had time to write during weekdays. Holidays were different; once homework was done, he had hours to himself.
The next afternoon, while Cheng Xing was attentively listening to Jiang Luxi explain a new concept, his parents returned from their hometown.
His mother, Deng Ying, walked in first. Spotting Jiang Luxi, she smiled warmly and handed her a freshly bought orange.
Initially, Jiang Luxi wanted to refuse, but seeing Deng Ying's expression darken slightly, she accepted it.
Cheng Xing's father, Cheng Chuan, entered next. "Chen Qing's dad called while I was driving, inviting us to dinner tonight. I was thinking the same thing. We were busy during Mid-Autumn Festival, but tonight we're both free."
"It's been a while since we dined with them. Before moving here, back when Chen Qing's dad wasn't head of the Culture Bureau, we were neighbors for years," Deng Ying said with a smile. "Also, it's been a while since I've seen that Chen Qing girl."
The family gathered in the living room, and Jiang Luxi stopped explaining the topic. She quietly stood aside, holding the orange.
Cheng Xing connected the dots. The "Chen Qing" his parents mentioned must be their classmate Chen Qing.
Rumors swirled that Cheng Xing and Chen Qing were childhood friends, having been in the same class since middle school. Jiang Luxi had heard these stories, often accompanied by mentions of Cheng Xing walking Chen Qing home after school.
In fact, she had seen it herself while cycling home: the two walking together under the campus trees.
"Dad, Mom, how about you go without me? I have things to do tonight," Cheng Xing said.
"No," Cheng Chuan replied firmly. "Your Uncle Chen specifically asked for you. He mentioned last time that it's been ages since you visited."
"Speaking of which," Cheng Chuan added, "your Uncle Chen said you wrote a great poem at school. The Culture Department is collecting pieces for the provincial newspaper, and he submitted yours. What exactly did you write for him to be so impressed?"
Cheng Xing froze. He hadn't expected Uncle Chen to notice his work. In his spare time, he often wrote modern and classical poems, but this must be that love poem he had written for Chen Qing recently.
"Oh, it was nothing, just random scribbles," Cheng Xing replied casually.
The memories of his past life felt like distant clouds. Whatever feelings he'd had for Chen Qing had long since faded.
"If he doesn't want to say, fine. Luxi, you're in the same class—do you know anything? You're much more reliable than this kid," Deng Ying teased, curious about what had impressed Uncle Chen enough to submit it.
Cheng Chuan turned his gaze toward Jiang Luxi.
Stars, like scattered jewels, pierce the thin night,
Below, a world of chill where cold winds bite.
A song rings out, startling a white crane's flight,
The mournful "Yang Pass," played thrice, ignites
A pang of parting as dawn paints the sky bright.
Your brush from Jiangnan, a touch so light,
Against my northern whip, a contrasting sight.
Life's path uncertain, a winding, twisting flight.
Let's seek solace in laughter, in shared, drunken night.
Only one wish, a yearning turned brief and bright,
Two souls entwined, forever out of night.
Jiang Luxi recited the poem Cheng Xing had once written for Chen Qing. She still remembered it clearly. Back then, her curiosity had driven her to read Cheng Xing's love letter after being drawn in by the poem's opening lines. She had expected the rest of the letter to maintain that same poetic charm. Instead, it had been filled with sweet, sentimental words, revealing just how deeply Cheng Xing felt for Chen Qing.
Recalling that letter now, Jiang Luxi realized something: Cheng Xing probably still liked Chen Qing. His recent behavior seemed designed to provoke her—just like in those clichéd novels or movies.
Someone who had harbored feelings for six years wouldn't give up so easily after one rejection.
Her thoughts wandered back to the time Cheng Xing handed her that letter in front of Chen Qing, then later helped her cut in line while pointedly ignoring Chen Qing. Every action seemed deliberately tied to Chen Qing. Suddenly, everything made sense.
Meanwhile, Cheng Xing stared at Jiang Luxi in disbelief.
He wouldn't have been surprised if Chen Qing remembered the poem—it was, after all, written for her. But for Jiang Luxi to recall it so vividly? That was unexpected. He hadn't even anticipated her reading the letter in the first place, much less remembering its contents.
Both Cheng Chuan and Deng Ying sat stunned. Though neither were literary experts, they could appreciate the depth of the poem. They exchanged proud glances. Initially, they'd thought Chen Shi had submitted Cheng Xing's poem to competitions merely because of their long-standing family ties—or perhaps because Cheng Xing often accompanied Chen Qing home. Now, it was clear the poem stood on its own merit.
"Alright, Mom, Dad—you're interrupting my study time," Cheng Xing said, breaking their reverie.
Cheng Chuan grinned. "Fine, fine. I'll book the hotel. Tonight, we're having dinner with Chen Qing's family."
"Got it," Cheng Xing responded, feigning nonchalance.
As soon as his parents left for upstairs, Cheng Xing turned toward Jiang Luxi. "How did you memorize that poem?"
"It's well-written," she replied, her tone neutral.
"Can you… forget it?" he asked suddenly, an unusual intensity in his voice.
Jiang Luxi raised an eyebrow. "Why would I?"
He shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get back to the problems."
"Okay." She resumed explaining the math problems in her usual composed manner.
By 5 p.m., Jiang Luxi had packed up her materials. Every visit, she brought along a meticulously organized notebook filled with topics tailored for Cheng Xing. She preferred dedicating their daylight hours to explanations, leaving him homework for later practice.
As she cleared the table, Cheng Xing said, "Be careful on your way home."
This time, she didn't even nod. She walked out to the yard, opened and closed the gate behind her, and rode off on her bicycle without a word.
Watching her leave, Cheng Xing shook his head. What a cold girl.
He sank back onto the couch, his gaze landing on an orange sitting on the coffee table—the one his mother had given Jiang Luxi earlier, which she had left untouched. He peeled it slowly, popping a segment into his mouth, letting its citrus tang linger on his tongue.
That evening, both families gathered at the nearby Chaotian Hotel.
"Cheng Xing, why haven't you visited us lately?" Chen Shi asked after exchanging greetings with the others.
"I've been busy," Cheng Xing replied with a polite smile.
"Busy with what?"
"Studying."
Chen Shi chuckled. "Studying? You? Are you serious?"
Zhang Qiu, Chen Qing's mother, couldn't help but join in the laughter. The notion of Cheng Xing suddenly dedicating himself to academics seemed laughably out of character.
"I'm serious, Uncle," Cheng Xing insisted, his grin never wavering. "I realized if I don't work hard now and get into a good university, I'll regret it later."
Chen Shi narrowed his eyes, clearly skeptical but deciding not to press further. Whether or not Cheng Xing was genuinely committed to studying, it seemed implausible that he could make up for years of neglect in just a few months.
"Well, just remember, our door's always open. Come visit when you can. We've missed having you around."
"I will," Cheng Xing promised, nodding.
Throughout the meal, conversation flowed naturally among the adults. Yet, an unsettling silence lingered between Cheng Xing and Chen Qing. In the past, Cheng Xing would always engage Chen Qing, teasing her or drawing her into conversations. Tonight, he barely looked her way. The change wasn't lost on anyone.
As the families parted ways and began their walk home, Deng Ying finally asked, "Little Xing, what was up with you tonight?"
He pulled out an earbud, music still playing softly in the background.
"What do you mean?" Cheng Xing asked.
"You hardly spoke to Qing Qing all night," Deng Ying said, puzzled.
He smiled faintly. "Mom, people grow up. And sometimes… they change."