With the combined holidays of the Mid-Autumn Festival and National Day, Jiang Luxi had been tutoring Cheng Xing for almost half a month. Calculating at four hours a day and six lessons per session, that was twelve lessons a day, which added up to about 180 lessons over two weeks.
Using those 180 lessons, Cheng Xing managed to review all of middle school mathematics.
In Cheng Xing's opinion, his progress was already remarkably fast.
Jiang Luxi now pulled out her first-year high school math textbook. Middle school math was done; it was time to dive into high school material.
"How's my progress? Not too slow, right?" Cheng Xing asked with a smile, a hint of pride in his voice.
Jiang Luxi glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. "Do you want the truth or a lie?" she asked.
"Of course, the truth," Cheng Xing replied, leaning forward slightly.
Jiang Luxi didn't hesitate. "Sun Ying studied with her mother during middle school and mastered all of middle school's subjects in just two months. She skipped two grades and took the high school entrance exam at twelve, entering Ancheng No. 1 High School with the fifth-highest score in the city."
Cheng Xing clicked his tongue in response, unable to suppress his amazement. Learning all of middle school's subjects in two months? Although he'd taken just two weeks longer, he had only studied mathematics. Sun Ying had mastered eight subjects: Chinese, mathematics, English, physics, chemistry, geography, history, and biology.
Not only had she mastered them, but she had also ranked fifth in the city during the high school entrance exam.
It was undeniably extraordinary.
But the world wasn't short of geniuses.
Cheng Xing's thoughts wandered to a child prodigy he had once heard about in his previous life: Zhang Xinyang. According to a short video he had watched, Zhang Xinyang had recognized 800 Chinese characters by the age of two, taken the college entrance exam at ten, and scored over 500 points.
Cheng Xing remembered that if not for Zhang's father pushing for the "youngest college student" title, Zhang might have achieved even better results with a few more years of preparation. Still, Zhang Xinyang had become the youngest postgraduate student in 2013.
However, what had left the deepest impression on Cheng Xing—and many netizens—was an incident from 2011. Zhang had urged his parents to buy a house in Beicheng when property prices were relatively low following the 2008 financial crisis. Instead, his parents capitalized on the "youngest college student" gimmick, writing books and earning media money. By the time they could afford a house, they had deceived him, renting instead of buying.
When Cheng Xing eventually learned about Zhang through short videos, the prodigy had already given up on life because of this betrayal.
At the time, one of the hottest forum headlines read: "Stop dreaming about rebirth. Zhang Xinyang is proof: even if you're reborn, what can you do if you have parents like his?"
Still, Cheng Xing thought Zhang Xinyang was undeniably a genius with sharp insight. Zhang, however, hadn't been a time traveler or reborn. A true time traveler wouldn't need anyone else—they could rely on their past experiences to achieve wealth.
One wouldn't need vast knowledge or extraordinary skills. Whether it was basketball, soccer, or esports, as long as you remembered a single key event, you'd never need to worry about money.
Take the 2014 World Cup, for instance. Spain's shocking 1-5 loss to the Netherlands was the tournament's biggest upset. If you couldn't recall that, knowing Germany won the championship would suffice.
Even if sports weren't your forte, you could remember how RNG, after dominating every championship in 2018, suffered an unexpected defeat to G2 during October's S8 League of legends World Championship.
One major upset—just one—could set you up for life.
Everyone's youth was marked by unforgettable moments like these.
So, Cheng Xing thought, a reborn person wouldn't worry about wealth.
Instead, they could cherish the fleeting moments of youth they had once discarded. Compared to easily obtainable riches, Cheng Xing now valued the irreplaceable and ephemeral years of youth far more.
People often overlooked the things that were easiest to obtain.
And the things money couldn't buy—time, knowledge, pure love, and a simple, sincere girl with a swaying ponytail—were what Cheng Xing desired most now.
"What are you thinking about?" Jiang Luxi's voice snapped him back to reality. She waved a pen in front of his face, her brows slightly furrowed in curiosity.
Cheng Xing blinked and focused on the simple, earnest girl in front of him. "Nothing," he replied casually.
Moments ago, when he'd thought of a pure and simple girl, Jiang Luxi's image had surfaced in his mind. Now, seeing her in the flesh felt almost surreal.
Reflecting on their earlier conversation, Cheng Xing realized that even in an unassuming place like Ancheng, geniuses like Sun Ying could emerge. Compared to her achievements, his one-and-a-half-month feat of completing middle school math felt trivial.
He had thought his progress was impressive. Now, he felt humbled.
Noticing the shadow of discouragement in his expression, Jiang Luxi said, "You've exceeded my expectations. Honestly, I thought it would take you at least three months to get through middle school math."
In truth, Jiang Luxi had doubted whether Cheng Xing could stay focused for long.
Initially, she had only prepared math lessons for him, thinking he wouldn't be ready for other subjects anytime soon. But at this rate, he might actually finish high school math before the semester ended.
Although high school math was much harder, with three months left in the semester, Cheng Xing seemed capable of completing it.
Recently, Jiang Luxi had spent her spare daytime hours organizing English notes for him so he could get a head start in class.
She didn't dare stay up late anymore after almost dozing off in class once. If she had fallen asleep, the teacher would've scolded—or even hit—her.
"You're not as cold and difficult as they say," Cheng Xing joked lightly.
Jiang Luxi pursed her lips but remained silent.
She handed him the first-year math textbook and began explaining sequences and functions.
Thanks to the solid middle school foundation he had just built, the once incomprehensible symbols now seemed much clearer.
Math either fascinated or baffled people. If you loved it, you could lose yourself in numbers. If you hated it, it could remain a lifelong struggle.
Under Jiang Luxi's guidance, Cheng Xing gradually developed a liking for mathematics. However, no matter the circumstances, Chinese remained his favorite subject.
To Cheng Xing, literature was like a shy, artistic girl—someone who didn't mingle with the crowd but stood quietly aside, holding a book, waiting for someone to truly notice her. Only then would her beauty be revealed.
It reminded him of Jiang Luxi. Without spending time with her, it would be hard to see who she really was. She would play hopscotch while waiting for someone or nibble on her draft paper when lost in thought.
These little quirks—details he'd never have noticed without their recent interactions—made her far more adorable than he had initially imagined.
Time passed quickly, and soon it was noon.
Cheng Xing went out to buy food, and the two of them ate lunch at home. Jiang Luxi ate quickly, while Cheng Xing lingered over his meal, watching TV. In just ten minutes, she had finished eating, leaving Cheng Xing to enjoy his show.
The TV was airing a new version of Three Kingdoms, a drama directed by Gao Xixi that had premiered in May of this year. While some claimed it wasn't as good as the classic version, its popularity was undeniable. Among the newly adapted Four Great Classical Novels of 2010, Three Kingdoms had achieved the highest viewership and was arguably the best-produced.
The new Journey to the West had two high-budget versions—one directed by Zhang Jizhong and another from Zhejiang. Both boasted impressive special effects, but Cheng Xing had only watched a few episodes intermittently. No matter how well-made these versions were, they couldn't surpass the classic adaptation directed by Yang Jie, with Liu Xiaolingtong's iconic portrayal of the Monkey King.
As a fan of Dream of the Red Chamber, Cheng Xing had been excited about its remake. However, among the newly adapted Four Great Classical Novels, Dream of the Red Chamber was undoubtedly the worst. The series had adopted a bizarre ghost-story tone, and its director, Li Shaohong, reportedly hadn't even read the novel.
To make matters worse, one of the lead actresses, who would later become a big-name star with the surname Yang, couldn't even read her character's lines properly.
By comparison, the 1987 version directed by Wang Fulin was a masterpiece. Every actor had deeply immersed themselves in their roles, something that modern adaptations seemed to lack.
Entertainment back then followed literature closely. Artists were respected as true craftsmen with literary grounding, unlike today's celebrities, who seemed detached from their characters.
This was why Three Kingdoms stood out as the best of the four remakes, sparking countless memorable moments.
Since the plot of Three Kingdoms was so familiar, it didn't matter where Cheng Xing started watching. Every episode was easy to follow, making it perfect as a mealtime show.
By the time the infamous scene of Ma Chao's verbal tirade against Cao Cao ended, Cheng Xing had finished his meal. He tossed the meal boxes into the trash and turned around, noticing Jiang Luxi knitting a sweater. Her pale hands moved deftly, her fingers delicate and nimble.
In Anyang's cold winters, unprotected hands could easily suffer from frostbite, though today's weather wasn't yet snowy.
"Who's the sweater for?" Cheng Xing asked, noting its size. It didn't look like it was for her.
"For my grandma," Jiang Luxi replied without looking up.
"How long does it take to finish one?"
"If I knit quickly, about a week; otherwise, a month," Jiang Luxi said matter-of-factly.
Initially, she had planned to knit one for her grandmother, but her grandmother had insisted she knit something for herself first. Jiang Luxi, though stubborn, couldn't outdo her grandmother. Whenever she tried to resist, her grandmother would threaten to stop eating until Jiang Luxi gave in.
During the Mid-Autumn Festival and National Day holidays, Jiang Luxi had used her spare time to finish her own sweater. She had already made significant progress on her grandmother's and was confident it would be ready before winter arrived.
"When I was a kid, my mom used to knit sweaters for me. Hers were always warmer than store-bought ones," Cheng Xing said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "I could play in the snow wearing just thermal underwear and one of her sweaters, but with store-bought ones, I'd have to wear a thick coat on top."
"That's for sure. Handmade sweaters are always warmer," Jiang Luxi agreed.
"You're faster at knitting than my mom was," Cheng Xing remarked.
He remembered watching his mother, Deng Ying, knit sweaters for him when he was little. She had been skilled, but not as quick as Jiang Luxi.
Jiang Luxi paused for a moment, her lips pursing slightly. She didn't respond right away.
This skill had been taught to her by her mother before she left for the last time.
When Jiang Luxi was six or seven, she had begged her mother to teach her how to knit. She wanted to make sweaters for her parents and grandmother so her mother wouldn't have to work so hard.
Her mother had smiled warmly, pinched her cheeks, and said, "Little Luxi, you can learn. When you grow up, you can knit for someone you like. He'll be touched by your handmade sweater. But for now, just watch. You're so clever—you'll pick it up."
So she had watched her mother knit, eager to learn. By the next winter, Jiang Luxi had knitted sweaters for her entire family. But that year, her parents didn't return home.
The following winter, she knitted again, but her parents would never wear them again.
Her hands, now deft and nimble, carried the weight of those memories.