After receiving his terminal diagnosis, Zhuang Zi'ang was at a loss about who to tell. Most people would naturally think of their parents first, but his situation was a bit...plicated.

  His father, Zhuang Wenzhao, and his mother, Xu Hui, had divorced when Zhuang Zi'ang was only five. Most professions in this world required training and exams before one could practice. For example, you needed a driver's lise to drive, and a teag certificate to teach. But to bee a parent? No exam required. A moment of impulse, an ued act, and a new life was brought into the world.

  Few people ever sidered whether that child actually wao e.

  Zhuang Zi'ang's childhood was far from happy. From as far back as he could remember, his parents fought stantly. The furniture was ofteurned, and the floor was littered with shards of gss and broken por. Finally, oherwise ordinary day, they decided to call it quits food.

  During the divoregotiations, Zhuang Wenzhao initially didn't even want custody of Zhuang Zi'ang. He felt that having a child from his previous marriage would hinder his ces of remarriage, a 'burden' as some might call it. Only after his grandparents intervened, g the o carry on the family line, was Zhuang Zi'ang allowed to stay in the family home.

  A year ter, Zhuang Wenzhaht home a heavily made-up woman. Two years after that, they had a son of their own. In fairy tales, children with stepmothers always had a miserable life. While reality wasn't quite so dramatic, Zhuang Zi'ang stantly felt like he had to walk on eggshells and be mindful of others' moods. Even though it was his own home, he ofte like a charity case.

  His mother, Xu Hui, never remarried. Her job as a train attenda her stantly on the move, and she was only home once every week or two. She rented a small apartmehe school, and Zhuang Zi'ang would sometimes stay there when he didn't want to go home. Gradually, he became even more of an outsider in his own family.

  His parents were both at work, and Zhuang Zi'ang didn't want to disturb them. He went to a quiet er of the baly, hesitated for a long time, then dialed a ndline number.

  The ph for a while before someone finally picked up. A frail voiswered, "Hello, who is this?"

  Tears welled up and spilled randpa, it's me, Zi'ang. I miss you."

  Zhuang Jianguo, his grandfather, his voice immediately brightened. "Zi'ang! Grandpa misses you too!" He then called out loudly for his wife to e and listen to their grandson on the phone.

  Zhuang Zi'ang rarely felt any familial warmth. Only during summer and winter breaks, when he visited his grandparents in the tryside, did he find some mueeded so the pany of these two loving elders.

  "Grandpa, Grandma, I'll e see you this weekend," Zhuang Zi'ang said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  "No need, your studies are demanding now. Don't worry about us. Just e back during summer break," Zhuang Jianguo replied with a chuckle.

  "Okay... Okay, Grandpa, Grandma, take care of yourselves. I have to go to ow," Zhuang Zi'ang quickly made an excuse to hang up. He was on the verge of breaking down in tears.

  He simply couldn't bring himself to tell his beloved grandparents about the shog aating news. How heartbroken would they be when that day finally arrived?

  The school bell rang, signaling the start of css.

  Zhuang Zi'ang wiped away his tears and tried to pose himself before returning to his seat. He attempted to lose himself in the sea of knowledge and fet his sorrow.

  The css schedule was written on the far right side of the bckboard. Up were two secutive math csses.

  "The Exterminator Nun" (a niame for their strict math teacher, refereng a character from a famous martial arts novel) Wu Qiufang strode to the podium, clutg her textbook.

  Math css had a remarkable soporific effect. Within five minutes, more than half the css was dozing off.

  Li Huangxuan, seizing the opportunity while Wu Qiufang was writing on the board, stealthily pulled out his copy of The Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils. He randomly flipped to a cssic se:

  "The Eighteen Riders of Yan Cloud, charging like tigers, raising a whirlwind of dust."

  "Dude, are you crazy? Reading a novel ierminator Nun's css?" Zhuang Zi'ang whispered, trying to warn his deskmate.

  But Li Huangxuan was determio defy her, deliberately c trouble. The fshing swords and heroic deeds of the martial arts world were far more captivating than mathematical formus.

  Zhuang Zi'ang, the ever-diligent student, sat upright and tried to focus. But unlike before, he could only see Ms. Wu's lips moving; he couldn't hear a word she was saying. It felt as if the warmth of life was slowly draining from his body.

  "Master Murong, Master Zhuang, Old Freak Ding, e at me all three of you. What does Xiao Feng have to fear?"

  Li Huangxuan was just getting to the good part when he suddenly felt a murderous aura wash over him. He looked up a Wu Qiufang's pierg gaze.

  "Li Huangxuan, e up to the board and solve this problem."

  Teachers, standing at the front of the css, often had a clear view of all the students' little shenanigans. Wu Qiufang was known for her strict teag style and had zero tolerance for any tomfoolery.

  Li Huangxuaantly dragged himself to the front, chalk in hand. He stared at the cryptic symbols on the board as if he were petrified, uo move. This kind of problem was beyond anyone's ability, except maybe those emotionless study maes.

  Wu Qiufang's face turned ashen. "With your math grades, you have the o read novels in css? You're sitting right o Zhuang Zi'ang, why don't you learn a thing or two from him?"

  Li Huangxuan mumbled, "He's the one who bought me the novel!"

  "fiscated. And you, stand at the back of the css for the rest of the period," Wu Qiufang scolded.

  Theone softened. "Zhuang Zi'ang, e up and solve this problem. Show everyone how it's done."

  Zhuang Zi'ang, the academic superstar, sistently scored near-perfect marks in math. Solving a problem of this difficulty should have been a piece of cake for him.

  But when he heard his name, Zhuang Zi'ang seemed to freeze, as if his soul had drifted off somewhere and was suddenly yanked back. He stood at the board but remained frozen, uo write.

  His mind was ed by the diagnosis report, or rather, his death warrant. The once-familiar numbers and symbols now seemed utterly fn.

  "Zhuang Zi'ang, what's wrong?" Wu Qiufang asked, surprised.

  "Ms. Wu, I don't know how to do it," Zhuang Zi'ang choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

  "What do you mean, you don't know?" Wu Qiufang knew Zhuang Zi'ang well. This level of math problem was definitely within his capabilities. She had called on him to solve it as a way to ily reprimand Li Huangxuan, but her pn had backfired.

  Zhuang Zi'ang's shoulders began to tremble, and the piece of chalk fell from his hand. Unbidden tears welled up in his eyes. He was engulfed by an overwhelming wave of sadness, like a lonely, lost child.

  Wu Qiufang's heart ached at the sight. She had an urge to embrace him.

  The other students, bewildered, started whispering among themselves.

  "There's no way Zhuang Zi'ang 't solve this problem. What's going on?"

  "Only a top student would get so upset over a math problem that he'd cry."

  "Hey Mu Shi, did he fess to you and you rejected him or something?"

  ...

  Lin Mushi stared at Zhuang Zi'ang's back, her beautiful eyes wide with . A sudden pang of ay shot through her. In all their time as friends, she had never seen him so distraught.

  He was definitely hiding something.

  "Zhuang Zi'ang, it's okay. Go back to your seat," Wu Qiufang said softly.

  "Ms. Wu, may I go to the restroom?" Zhuang Zi'ang asked, his voice choked with sobs.

  Wu Qiufang sighed softly and nodded in uanding. Teachers always had a soft spot for their best students.

  Once he was out of the and in the hallway, Zhuang Zi'ang could no longer tain his emotions. He broke down, sobbing untrolbly, his heart wreng.

  Every teacher, every cssmate – he cherished them all deeply. In just three months, they would be separated by the veil of death, o meet again.