For the next two days, Zhuang Zi'ang behaved himself and didn't skip any more csses. He didn't have many chances to see Little Butterfly, mostly just having lunch together and taking an afternoon nap. Of course, the "afternoon nap" was just that, in the most literal sense.

  If he messaged her during the day, Little Butterfly would always reply quickly. But as soon as night fell, she vanished without a trace. Zhuang Zi'ang had gotten used to her unique style. After all, it was normal for a girl to have a strict upbringing.

  Xu Hui came back once, stayed for a night, and then hurriedly left again. Seeing her exhausted appearance, Zhuang Zi'ang couldn't bear to tell her the truth. He decided to take it one day at a time.

  On Friday after school, Zhuang Zi'ang saw Little Butterfly onto the bus. It was still early, so he sat at the bus stop for a while, quietly watching the red sun setting on the horizon. The sunset is beautiful beyond compare, yet twilight approaches unaware. He had never noticed before how beautiful the sunset could be.

  A familiar figure approached - it was Deng Haijun, the book smart but socially awkward top student.

  "Zhuang Zi'ang, are you busy tonight?"

  Zhuang Zi'ang shook his head.

  Deng Haijun was delighted. "That's great! Come to the library with me to grind through some practice problems. There are some questions I only want to discuss with you."

  In the eyes of ordinary students, physics competition problems were not for normal people. Only exceptionally gifted top students like them could share a common nguage.

  Zhuang Zi'ang had nothing better to do, so he nodded in agreement. But Deng Haijun was completely clueless about social niceties. It was almost dark; shouldn't he at least offer to buy dinner first?

  The library was filled with happy memories of Zhuang Zi'ang and Little Butterfly. Passing by a convenience store, he bought a bag of fruit-fvored hard candies.

  "You're a grown man bringing a bag of candy into the library? Isn't that cheesy?" Deng Haijun said with disdain.

  "You'll understand someday," Zhuang Zi'ang said meaningfully. When a person suddenly starts acting silly, it's usually because they've fallen in love. But his love story had a mencholic undertone.

  They found a seat in the library, and Deng Haijun brought over some reference books and began working on physics competition problems. At first, he was completely absorbed and ignored Zhuang Zi'ang. But when he encountered a difficult problem and wanted to discuss it with Zhuang Zi'ang, he discovered that the "genius student" in his teachers' eyes was engrossed in a children's joke book with pinyin pronunciation guides, a blissful smile on his face.

  "What's wrong with you?" Deng Haijun scoffed.

  "I never realized it before, but reading joke books really rexes me," Zhuang Zi'ang chuckled.

  The problem Deng Haijun was struggling with was about velocity. It was indeed quite challenging. Zhuang Zi'ang grabbed a pen and started scribbling calcutions on scratch paper. After a long discussion with Deng Haijun, they finally solved it. They both felt a sense of accomplishment, a unique joy that only top students could understand.

  Deng Haijun stared at the dense formus on the scratch paper and then at the reference books beside him. Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Zhuang Zi'ang, do you think time travel is real?"

  Time travel had always been a hot topic in the scientific community, with countless scientists proposing various hypotheses and conjectures. For example, the famous Stephen Hawking had proposed three possible ways to achieve time travel: wormholes, bck holes, and traveling at the speed of light. He had even held a "time traveler's party," inviting guests from the future. Unfortunately, he waited for hours, but no one came.

  Compared to "time travel," people were probably more familiar with the term "traversing." It was a huge genre in online novels, full of imagination and fun.

  "Of course, people can travel through time," Zhuang Zi'ang said with a smile and a nod.

  "Have you met a time traveler? What's your theoretical basis for saying that?" Deng Haijun asked seriously.

  "It's just a guess. What theoretical basis could I have? It's something that even the greatest scientists haven't figured out. With our limited intelligence, is there any point in us discussing it?" Zhuang Zi'ang rolled his eyes.

  "I heard there's a pce called the Blue Star, where thousands of time travelers live, making a living by copying songs and poems," Deng Haijun mumbled.

  Zhuang Zi'ang was amused. He didn't expect this serious bookworm to have read some web novels. This is a reference to a popur time-travel novel.

  Tracing back to the source, it probably all started with a man surnamed Xiang who went back in time to help the First Emperor of Qin unify China. The wheels of fate had begun to turn.

  Ending this conversation, Zhuang Zi'ang went back to his silly joke book, and Deng Haijun continued to grapple with his insanely difficult problems, occasionally discussing them with each other until the closing music started pying in the library.

  When they came out, Deng Haijun asked earnestly, "Zhuang Zi'ang, are you really not participating in the physics competition?"

  Zhuang Zi'ang looked at his comrade-in-arms, with whom he had fought many battles, and patted him on the shoulder. "Haijun, work hard. I know you'll achieve your dream of becoming an outstanding scientist."

  "What about you? Are you abandoning us?" Deng Haijun pressed.

  "Even if I can't participate, I'll be cheering you guys on in my heart," Zhuang Zi'ang said with a hint of sadness.

  Even the most obtuse person could tell that something was wrong with Zhuang Zi'ang. But no matter how Deng Haijun pressed him, Zhuang Zi'ang refused to reveal the reason.

  "Alright, I hope you can live happily according to your own wishes," Deng Haijun said, waving goodbye to Zhuang Zi'ang and turning to leave.

  Zhuang Zi'ang watched his retreating figure, feeling a pang of sadness. Suddenly, he shouted, "Haijun, if you ever manage to achieve time travel, please go back nineteen years and find my mom. Tell her not to marry my dad, and to choose a good, reliable man instead."

  "Are you nuts, saying something like that?" Deng Haijun turned around and retorted.

  "Yeah, I'm sick, lovesick," Zhuang Zi'ang said with a smile and a wave, talking to himself.

  The library wasn't too far from the school, so Zhuang Zi'ang decided to walk back and enjoy the night breeze. The colorful lights on the distant bridge shimmered, reflecting on the water's surface, creating a beautiful cityscape at night. Cars streamed along the roads, and the bright lights from shop windows illuminated the streets. Even though it was night, the world was still bustling and vibrant.

  Zhuang Zi'ang walked up to a pedestrian overpass, where many street vendors had set up their stalls. There was a young man expertly applying screen protectors to phones, an old dy selling needlework, and a vagrant musician pying the guitar and singing.

  The most eye-catching was a middle-aged man in a traditional robe, wearing a pair of old-fashioned gsses, and holding a banner with the words "Zhang Banxian" written on it. ("Banxian" means "Half Immortal", it is a title that implies he's a soothsayer, a fortune-teller, though perhaps not a very good one). Below it, in smaller characters, were services offered, such as fortune-telling, character reading, feng shui, and destiny analysis. In front of him, spread out on a yellow cloth, were various items like peace talismans, longevity locks, and Bagua mirrors (Traditional Chinese divination tools).

  "Young man, would you like your fortune told?" Zhang Banxian called out to Zhuang Zi'ang.

  Zhuang Zi'ang stopped and looked at the man, surprised. "Why is it you?"

  Zhang Banxian also recognized Zhuang Zi'ang and chuckled. "Young man, we meet again. Fate must have brought us together."

  It turned out that this was none other than the Daoist priest who had interpreted Zhuang Zi'ang's fortune at the Xiaoyao Pace, the one Little Butterfly called an "old swindler."

  Zhuang Zi'ang asked curiously, "Why aren't you at the Xiaoyao Pace? Why are you out here telling fortunes?"

  Zhang Banxian sighed. "Business is bad these days. People are restless and impetuous. I have to take on a side hustle to make ends meet."

  Zhuang Zi'ang didn't believe in fortune-telling anyway and didn't want to waste any more money. He was about to politely decline and leave when Zhang Banxian grabbed him.

  "No charge if I'm wrong. Do you believe I can guess your surname?"

  "My surname?" Zhuang Zi'ang was intrigued.

  "Looking south at the lone star, the crescent moon rises," Zhang Banxian said, swaying his head.

  People in this line of work were destined to speak in riddles. Zhuang Zi'ang frowned. Are you pying riddles with me?