Be Passionately In Love

At the time, Xu Zhi hadn’t thought much of it. When the two WeChat messages came in, she instinctively checked them first. Later, she tentatively asked about it, and Chen Luzhou said it was just random nonsense, unrelated to her. Xu Zhi didn’t press further.

About half an hour after the post went up on Moments, a certain someone’s call arrived right on schedule.

The golden sun dipped westward, casting its glow over the cornfields where a few boys chased each other recklessly, wild dogs barking fiercely. Xu Zhi walked along the mountain path, the wild grass swaying under the golden light of dusk, painting the wheat fields in vivid, saturated hues like a Van Gogh masterpiece in motion.

From the phone came that familiar, cool voice—

“Who are you calling a scumbag?”

Xu Zhi strolled leisurely toward her grandmother’s house, following the cheerful lines of the undulating wheat fields. She held the phone on speaker, half-hoping the chickens, ducks, and geese meandering nearby could hear the scumbag’s voice too.

Playing games? Who couldn’t?

But what unsettled Xu Zhi was how different this felt from her interactions with Tan Xu. No matter how Tan Xu treated her, she remained indifferent—never angry, never resistant, with no desire to challenge him. It was pure gratitude, a transactional exchange: he helped her study, and she endured his temper.

But Chen Luzhou was different. She wanted to win, to come out on top.

So, as the mountain breeze brushed past her and she gazed at the azure sky, she let her mind turn slowly before finally replying, “Huh? What?”

Chen Luzhou had just wrapped up work. This gig was special—semi-charitable in nature. It was for a documentary series on cancer patients, a project under Ms. Lian Hui’s network. They had selected several families nationwide to document their battles, and the photographer for the Shanghai family had taken sudden leave. Lian Hui asked if he was interested, and Chen Luzhou agreed. Now, seated on the high-speed train back, he wasn’t in high spirits. The entire shoot had been heavy, with the shadow of death hanging over the family like a Damocles’ sword.

The patient, named Zhang Fengxin—family called him Xiao Jin—was about his age. A high school sophomore with stellar grades, he’d won national first prize in a math competition. He hadn’t even taken the college entrance exams yet. A bright, sunny boy with little fangs when he smiled, he said his dream was to study architecture at University A. Chen Luzhou had smiled wryly then—for the first time, he wanted to introduce Xu Zhi to someone. Maybe they’d have common ground.

Xiao Jin hated being a burden. Every time Chen Luzhou waited outside with equipment while he underwent tests, Xiao Jin would scratch his ear sheepishly and say, “Sorry, bro, kept you waiting.” Apart from Xu Zhi, Chen Luzhou had never met someone who apologized so much. Not wanting to dwell on the sadness, he’d just look away and say, “It’s fine. I’m getting paid for this.”Xiao Jin also liked basketball. Both of them enjoyed watching games, sometimes talking about matches for an entire day. Chen Luzhou said that once he recovered from his illness, they could play together. Xiao Jin agreed with a smile, but everyone knew he had no future. After a moment of silence, Chen Luzhou felt his words might have been inappropriate. Coincidentally, Xiao Jin’s parents suddenly forbade Chen Luzhou from filming him the next day, their attitude firm—if Chen Luzhou didn’t leave, they would terminate all shooting. Chen Luzhou understood completely, so he called Ms. Lian Hui and wrapped up early.

Before leaving, he went to see Xiao Jin, who was lying in bed, struggling to eat bite by bite. Still unaware that Chen Luzhou was leaving, Xiao Jin asked when the afternoon shoot would start, saying he wanted to wash his hair as it had been days since he last did.

Chen Luzhou only mentioned that he was taking the afternoon high-speed train back to S Province due to some urgent family matters and might have to leave early. Xiao Jin was disappointed. "Ah, I was hoping to watch the game with you tonight. But it’s fine, go take care of your things. Oh, right—aren’t you guys about to submit your college applications soon?"

Chen Luzhou merely hummed in response, offering no further explanation.

Xiao Jin added, "Brother Luzhou, can you leave me your number? I’d love to visit S Province and find you someday."

After giving his number, Chen Luzhou handed him a list of movies and books he had stayed up all night compiling—mostly sci-fi. Xiao Jin had previously complained about how boring the hospital was, struggling to find good movies to watch. Even highly-rated ones often didn’t live up to expectations. When Chen Luzhou casually asked what kind of films he liked, Xiao Jin said sci-fi, like Interstellar , or disaster/apocalyptic movies.

Chen Luzhou hadn’t read much sci-fi literature, but he’d seen almost every sci-fi movie out there, so his list was practically exhaustive. Xiao Jin was overjoyed, asking in disbelief, "You’ve watched all of these?" Chen Luzhou nodded. "I don’t have many serious hobbies—just basketball and movies."

Perhaps because they’d never seen Xiao Jin so happy before, his parents chased after Chen Luzhou as he left, saying, "Xiao Chen, we don’t mean anything by this. You’re outstanding, but you and Xiao Jin are so close in age—we’re afraid it’ll make him sad. If you ever want to visit him, you’re more than welcome. He really likes you. We’ve never seen him open up to anyone like this."

Chen Luzhou agreed. So, on the high-speed train back, he suddenly realized he had his answer—this world was both a battleground for the brave and a place where sincerity was exchanged for sincerity.

……

Chen Luzhou had bought a first-class ticket. Since his return was decided last-minute, only first-class seats were available. He even called Lian Hui to ask, but she said the TV station wouldn’t reimburse first-class fares for full-time employees, let alone an unnamed, unofficial temp like him—not even if he were the producer’s own son. After hanging up, he checked online. Hmm, Scorpio’s in retrograde right now. Not a good time to travel.

The train had just left Shanghai Hongqiao Station. Leaning back in his seat, Chen Luzhou lazily watched the passing telephone poles and signal towers outside the window before teasing her, "Stop pretending. You think I didn’t see your WeChat Moments?"

"Huh?" Xu Zhi responded with genuine confusion. "I really thought you couldn’t see it. Right?" Her tone carried a hint of sarcasm.Chen Luzhou was sprawled lazily in his seat with Bluetooth earbuds in, scrolling through yesterday’s chat records with Zhu Yangqi. Hearing her tone, he lowered his head and couldn’t help but chuckle. "Doing this on purpose? Just because I didn’t reply to your post?"

Probably because he was on the high-speed train, his voice was soft and deliberately hushed, making it sound hoarse. To Xu Zhi, it carried an unusual gentleness.

Xu Zhi had just stepped into her house when the two little yellow dogs in the yard started barking like wind-up toys at the sight of her, making an unbearable racket. "I’m testing whether someone’s eyes are blind or not."

"Seems like you’re the one who’s not blind—remembering every word from just two seconds," Chen Luzhou retorted. Hearing the dogs’ frantic howls, he pulled Zhu Yangqi out of his blacklist and teased casually with a smirk, "Did you just barge into a doghouse to steal bones?"

Xu Zhi sighed. She was holding an unlit cigarette her grandma had brought back from a wedding banquet that morning. Not wanting to waste it, she decided to smoke it, so she was now rummaging through the cabinets for a lighter. She played along with his joke, "No choice. Starving here."

Chen Luzhou ignored her nonsense and chuckled. "So you saw it that day and pretended not to, huh?"

"You said it had nothing to do with me," she replied, shutting the drawer.

He hummed in acknowledgment, listening to the sound of drawers opening and closing on her end. "Looking for something?"

"A lighter," Xu Zhi said.

"Smoking?"

"Yeah."

Chen Luzhou frowned slightly, locked his phone, and gazed out the train window. "Got an addiction?"

"Nope," Xu Zhi pulled out a box of moldy matches and struck one. "Haven’t smoked much. Grandma brought this back from the wedding. Figured it’d be a waste not to."

"Bring it out and give it to Zhu Yangqi," Chen Luzhou sighed. "Once or twice might not get you hooked, but I’m afraid this time might do it. Don’t smoke it."

"Fine."

He hummed again. Being on the train made conversation inconvenient, so after a brief silence, he finally asked, "Should we hang up then?"

Xu Zhi agreed, placing the cigarette on the table. She could almost guess what he’d do for the next hour and a half. "You’re about to watch a movie, aren’t you?"

"What else? Sit here and space out?" He laughed. "Reminds me—last time I took the train to the beach with Zhu Yangqi, I dozed off for a bit, and he took three hundred photos of me. Then he blackmailed me, saying he’d show them to my future girlfriend unless I paid him off. Left me traumatized."

Xu Zhi perked up, curious about how ridiculous his sleeping face must’ve been. "Really? Does Zhu Yangqi still have them? Can non-girlfriends get a discount?"

Chen Luzhou leaned his head back against the seat, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced at the golden wheat fields outside the window. "Tsk. Bad math, huh? Why would a girlfriend need to pay? She can see me sleeping anytime."

"Must be rare to see you looking that ugly, or Zhu Yangqi wouldn’t have hatched such a money-making scheme," she teased.

"Handsome as hell," Chen Luzhou retorted, genuinely annoyed. "Too bad you’ll never get to see it. Bye."Chen Luzhou's photos had once trended on social media. Xu Zhi probably never searched for him—the nickname "Fairy Grass" was given around that time. Several talent agencies had even approached him, asking if he was interested in becoming an artist. Back then, he had money, but now he somewhat regretted not keeping their contact details. Who doesn’t hit rough patches sometimes? Sigh.

**

The interview was scheduled for Thursday. After returning from her grandmother’s house, Xu Zhi spent two days memorizing her script. Yet, the moment she faced Old Xu’s camera, her words stumbled. She suddenly realized that the older you grow, the more you care about face. How had she managed to say things like, "My beauty is undeniable, as you’ve all witnessed," in front of so many people during class elections when she was a kid?

Xu Guangji sat on the sofa, turning off the camera, and said earnestly, "Nannan, once people have something they care about, they start caring about face. When you were little, you were fearless because you didn’t have anything you truly cared about."

Standing in front of the TV, Xu Zhi disagreed. "That’s not true. I cared about you and Mom a lot back then, and my little goldfish too."

Xu Zhi had kept a small goldfish as a child, but it died within days. She loved that fish dearly—it was her first time keeping one—and didn’t know goldfish shouldn’t be fed three times a day. She had followed meal schedules religiously.

Xu Guangji explained, "That’s because you knew no matter what you did, Mom and I would always love and cherish you. The goldfish was the same. But some relationships are different. If you don’t do well, the other person might stop liking you."

"Dad, why does that sound loaded?"

"If you weren’t guilty of something, why would you think it’s loaded?"

Xu Zhi: "…Are you doing tongue twisters now?"

Xu Guangji left it at that, rubbing his legs as he stood up to cook dinner. "Well, my daughter is beautiful and brilliant. I think all you need to do is stand there, and the camera will naturally focus on you. Just don’t pick your nose."

Xu Zhi was speechless. "…When have I ever—"

"I have photos," Xu Guangji said, pushing his glasses up his forehead as he walked into the kitchen and turned on the exhaust fan. "When you get a boyfriend someday, I’ll show them to him first. If he can’t accept you like that, then he’s not the one. Relationships eventually settle into the mundane—rice, oil, salt. So this is an important test. Of course, if you’re willing to pay a hefty sum to destroy the photos, I might consider it."

"…" Xu Zhi hadn’t expected karma to strike so fast.

On Thursday afternoon, Xu Zhi arrived early at the broadcasting station. Only then did she learn that out of the thirty graduating students being interviewed, twenty-eight were from the same class—Class 1 of Zongshan Experimental at City No. 1 High. Only she and another boy weren’t from that class—one from Rui Jun High and the other from the Affiliated High, a provincial key school. Rui Jun wasn’t even a municipal key school, so her results had truly stunned everyone. Naturally, the outsiders stuck together the moment they arrived.The boy from the affiliated high school was named Yang Yijing, wearing black-rimmed glasses and looking quite shy. Xu Zhi had just finished her makeup and followed the staff's instructions to take her assigned seat, which happened to be right next to Yang Yijing. She recognized him at a glance—he must be the other lucky winner. He was staring blankly and enviously at the group of top students chatting away, not daring to interject, mainly because those elites clearly had no intention of including them. So the two of them could only sit awkwardly and somewhat forlornly on the side.

Yang Yijing was so nervous that his leg kept shaking. Since their chairs were connected, Xu Zhi ended up shaking along with him. She really hated it when guys jiggled their legs, but given the anxiety of the situation, she understood. "Hey, stop shaking. You're making my hairpin fall off," she said.

Yang Yijing hadn’t even noticed and quickly apologized, "Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just... just a little nervous." He was even stuttering.

"It's fine."

The makeup room was split into two distinct atmospheres. The two of them sat awkwardly in one small corner, while the rest of the space was occupied by the group of top students from Zongshan, either standing or sitting, crowding the other corner. They were chatting animatedly, as if at a class reunion, completely at ease with each other.

Yang Yijing couldn’t take his eyes off them and seemed to know a lot about them. He introduced them to Xu Zhi: "They’re all classmates from the same class, you know? The one wearing frameless glasses and a white shirt—I heard he’s this year’s provincial top scorer with 746 points. Plus, he has an extra 10 points from competitions, so his total breaks 750. The one in the school uniform won the gold medal in last year’s math competition. If it weren’t for the cancellation of direct admissions, I bet all of them would’ve been guaranteed spots. And there’s an even more impressive one—his competition awards alone could paper a wall. I heard he scored 713 raw points."

That’s just like Chen Luzhou, she thought, though she didn’t dwell on it. With so many people scoring the same points, there were bound to be others at City No. 1 High School with similar results. Still, she asked curiously, "Raw points?"

Yang Yijing nodded solemnly, his tone full of reverence. "He didn’t take the optional section and still broke 700. But it seems he’s not here today—I checked the list earlier and didn’t see his name. It’s a shame. I really wanted to see what someone who could score like that looks like. Our teacher even calculated his score—if he’d taken the optional section, he probably would’ve broken 770, definitely higher than 750."

"That’s seriously impressive," Xu Zhi nodded absentmindedly, scanning the room. She remembered that Chen Luzhou’s mother was supposedly a producer at the broadcasting station.

The makeup room was large, and the two groups were quite far apart. Xu Zhi thought she’d heard Chen Luzhou’s name mentioned a few times, but she chalked it up to her recent obsession and didn’t think much of it. Instead, she idly observed the TV station’s surroundings and chatted sporadically with Yang Yijing.

Yang Yijing suddenly remembered something and asked, "They mentioned going out to eat after the recording. Are you going?"

"With them?" Xu Zhi asked incredulously.

Probably not. They weren’t familiar, and she wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Besides, those top students clearly had no intention of including them. She wondered if Yang Yijing was being overly optimistic—maybe it was just a class reunion for them."This girl came to notify me. She said the station provided some funds for everyone to grab a meal after the recording. The staff won’t join to avoid making us uncomfortable, so they included both of us."

Yang Yijing pointed to a girl standing by the makeup counter, reciting her script. She had a high ponytail that swung back and forth as she paced, memorizing her lines. She was very pretty, with a unique aura—apparently their class’s Female Class Monitor, ranked twelfth in the province this year, who also applied to A University’s architecture program. However, the score gaps might have been small. Xu Zhi had just noticed her total score was also 742, suggesting many tied scores in the middle.

"How much funding did they give?" Xu Zhi asked.

"Ten thousand," Yang Yijing replied, even gesturing the number.

"Let’s eat. Only a fool would pass this up."

Yang Yijing chuckled. "That’s what I said. Since we’re already here, we might as well enjoy it. If they ignore us, at least we can keep each other company. Honestly, if you didn’t go, I’d feel so awkward. Oh, let’s add each other on WeChat."

Xu Zhi agreed. "Which major did you apply for?"

"A University," he said, pulling out his phone to show her the QR code. "I applied for finance, but my score is borderline. Who knows if I’ll get adjusted to another program? I heard this year’s score brackets are super tight. Like, you scored 738, right? But the next bracket might jump straight to 740, and there are several people tied at 740."

Just then, a staff member hurried over, clapping loudly. "Alright, alright, everyone! Stop chatting. Recording’s about to start. Gather your things and follow me. Please silence your phones or switch to airplane mode and hand them to the staff."

The makeup room instantly buzzed as people stood and shuffled toward the door. Xu Zhi and Yang Yijing merged into the crowd of top students heading to the studio. Amid the flow, snippets of conversation grew clearer, piercing her eardrums, sending a rush of blood to her head that made her scalp tingle.

"Hey, did anyone call Chen Luzhou? Let’s get him to join for dinner later. Our class is just missing a few of them."

"I messaged the group. Xu Xun said they’ll come later, but Chen Luzhou hasn’t replied. I asked the monitor to call him."

"I did call—he didn’t pick up. Is he out of town filming these days? Zhu Yangqi mentioned he’s shooting a documentary at □□ TV station."

"You can still reach Zhu Yangqi? Damn, Monitor, seems like you’re on special terms with our ‘King of Aloofness.’"

"Stop talking nonsense. Zhu Yang added me himself after the poetry recitation."

Author's Note: Let me explain again, the total score is 810 points, with an additional 60 optional bonus points, which is why the scores are so high. Don't compare it to reality—I'm using Province S, which is fictional.

Ahhh, I'm running out of time to write. This is the first update, the second one will come later.

Before 12 o'clock.