Chen Mengyao had been playing on her phone at the board game cafe for an hour and was starting to get annoyed.
She’d spent the entire summer in Dongzhou attending art exam prep classes. If her mom found out she’d skipped two days of classes just to sit here on the cold bench, who knew how she’d mock her for wasting money and not striving to improve?
Zhou Yingxiang had gone to great lengths to reimburse her travel expenses and eagerly called her over, yet half an hour ago, he’d replied with “just five more minutes.” Had time dilated for him, or had his ego inflated? Leaving her hanging like this.
Chen Mengyao grabbed her bag and was about to leave when the private room door swung open, and a group of noisy boys walked in.
“Hey, gorgeous! Long time no see! Catching a glimpse of you is harder than spotting a celebrity!” Wu Pengcheng was the first to greet her.
A girl’s intuition was always sharp, especially when it came to sensing who liked her and who didn’t.
She could tell Wu Pengcheng wasn’t exactly her biggest fan, so she replied with a perfunctory smile, “Sure is.”
Zhou Yingxiang smoothed things over. “Everyone, take a seat! Boss, bring us some snacks and drinks, yeah?”
“No problem!”
The group settled in, naturally leaving the seat of honor for the birthday boy. Chen Mengyao ended up sitting next to Zhang Shu, and their eyes met naturally. She greeted him, “Ah Shu, it’s your birthday today? Happy birthday.”
It should’ve been a sweet, intimate moment, with some teasing from the others. But because of what Zhang Shu had said on the way here, no one dared to stir things up. The room fell into an awkward silence.
Zhang Shu leaned back lazily in his chair, his expression indifferent. “Happy or not depends on how much I can win tonight.”
None of your business.
Chen Mengyao felt a little slighted.
With so many people around, Zhang Shu seemed unusually cold today.
Her feelings toward him were complicated. She knew she liked him, but she would never actually be with him.
Zhang Shu couldn’t afford her, nor would he bend over backward to spend every last penny on her.
She just wanted to keep him dangling—unable to swallow him down, yet unwilling to let him go. If he dated someone else, she’d be furious.
In this regard, she felt they had an unspoken understanding—
Zhang Shu liked her too but didn’t want to be with her. Because he knew what she needed, and he couldn’t provide it. He was too proud; once he started overthinking, his attitude would flip between hot and cold.
Today, something must’ve set him off again.
She couldn’t be bothered to coax him. Men were just like that—the more you indulged them, the more they’d act up. Leaving them alone usually fixed things.
Zhou Yingxiang was the perfect counterexample. After years of fawning over Zhang Shu, had he ever earned a single proper glance from him?
Chen Mengyao understood guys like Zhou Yingxiang all too well. People who suddenly came into money craved validation. He just liked the prestige of being seen with Zhang Shu.
It had been like this since middle school.
Some people were just naturally magnetic. In any group, everyone gravitated toward them. That kind of innate leadership was inexplicable. Zhang Shu had probably been the king of the playground since childhood.
Back in middle school, Zhang Shu had been even more flamboyant than he was now. Wherever he went, he was surrounded by crowds. He was good-looking, tall, and though his clothes were ordinary, he carried himself with an air of distinction—nothing like someone from their small town.
Chen Mengyao often heard the same about herself: “You don’t seem like you’re from this town.” In a way, they were alike. They were the same kind of people—the kind who were destined to stand out.
So even though they weren’t in the same class, Chen Mengyao had known about Zhang Shu for a long time. They just hadn’t crossed paths much.When Chen Mengyao heard that Zhang Shu had been admitted to the affiliated high school, she was quite surprised. He always seemed like someone just drifting through life, with none of the traits of a studious person.
One evening during their freshman military training, she sang a folk song while holding her guitar at the bonfire party. Countless pairs of eyes were fixed on her—among them, Zhang Shu's. After the event, she ran into him under a tree on the sports field.
She still remembered the first thing he said to her.
"Chen Mengyao? Can you sing for me a little longer?"
What, did he think she was a street performer?
If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have even spared them a glance.
But the way he so naturally called her by name—he must have known about her long before, right?
Almost as if bewitched, she asked, "What do you want me to sing?"
"That song from earlier. Sing it again."
That old song was so obscure that hardly anyone had heard it, but she loved it. So this felt like a kind of spiritual connection.
His way of striking up a conversation was masterful.
Far smarter than those who bluntly asked for her QQ number.
Zhang Shu’s most obvious charm was his intelligence.
Right now, he had drawn the Emperor card. His hand was terrible at first, and he was completely suppressed, but he wasn’t in a hurry—just biding his time for a chance to dominate later.
It had to be said, in moments like these, Zhang Shu’s seemingly lazy yet cunningly sharp eyes were truly captivating.
He didn’t smoke, just chewed on a lollipop, yet he carried more presence and authority than those blowing smoke rings.
Sometimes, Chen Mengyao really wanted to throw caution to the wind and date him.
...
"Shu, looks like you’ve gotten quite a few gifts this year. What’d you get? Spill it so we can be jealous," Hou Junqi teased during a lull in the card game.
Zhang Shu tossed out a set of cards and answered casually, "Haven’t checked."
Zhou Yingxiang asked, "Seriously? How many?"
Hou Junqi said, "A few in the morning, a few in the afternoon, and a few more at night—been getting them for two days now. Gotta be at least a dozen, right? Way more than usual this year, huh, Shu?"
Zhang Shu shrugged, equally baffled. In previous years, there’d been two or three, but nothing like this.
Then again, thanks to the lady beside him, his reputation was that of a lovesick fool pining after the school belle.
Wu Pengcheng said, "It’s ’cause you aced the joint exam. Now, forget just our school—every senior girl in every school knows you. Even vocational high schools have your fans."
"No way," Liu Huian joked with a grin. "Is being good at tests really that attractive?"
"You’d have to ask the girls," Zhou Yingxiang said. Since he’d invited her, he had to make sure she was included. "Mengyao, what do you think?"
Chen Mengyao gathered her cards and said leisurely, "Being good at tests only gets you +110 charm. A handsome guy who’s good at tests? That’s +10010. A handsome guy who’s more than just good at tests? That’s +10086."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Damn, that’s good!"
"You girls really know how to calculate."
The room erupted in laughter, the atmosphere gradually warming up.
Even Zhang Shu, who had barely shown any expression, tugged at the corner of his mouth around his lollipop.
Chen Mengyao never faltered in social settings. She knew exactly how to seize the spotlight and captivate everyone.
Much later, after several rounds of shuffling and the topic long forgotten, Wu Pengcheng suddenly piped up again, "What about you, gorgeous? What’d you bring? Show up empty-handed?"
Chen Mengyao was this close to kicking his chair, but she kept her cool, resting her chin on her hand as she drawled, "My presence isn’t enough? If I brought anything else, wouldn’t that be forcing the issue?"She had never intended to give him anything in the first place. How could she be the same as those girls secretly pining for him? She wasn’t that desperate.
As she spoke, she subtly observed Zhang Shu.
He was focused on his cards, crunching the lollipop between his teeth with a crisp "snap." Mumbling "Go!" he tossed his entire hand onto the table. With his now-free hand, he pulled out the lollipop stick, leaned back in his chair, and with a casual flick of his long arm, accurately threw it into the distant trash can.
The entire sequence was smooth and effortless, his gaze never straying.
He had won again.
The losers groaned in unison, drowning out Chen Mengyao’s words in an instant.
"I’m done," Zhang Shu said, standing up and pulling out the chips from under the table to count them. "Let’s call it a day."
Zhou Yingxiang hurriedly protested, "Come on, Shu, it’s only been two hours. It’s still early!"
Zhang Shu raised a hand to silence him while continuing to count the chips. Once finished, he tossed them onto the table. "Forty-three. Do the math yourselves. Transfer what you owe to my Alipay."
"No problem, but let’s play a few more rounds," Han Xiao chimed in, clearly reluctant to stop.
"Yeah, it’s rare for us all to get together."
Zhang Shu shook his head. "Not happening. My sister texted saying she’s waiting for me at home."
Hearing this, Hou Junqi—aware of the recent thaw in Zhang Shu’s relationship with his sister—quickly agreed. "Then you should head back. That’s more important."
Zhou Yingxiang didn’t press further either and called over the shop owner to bring out the prepared cake.
Though Zhang Shu had a sharp tongue, he rarely outright rejected people’s gestures. Since he was already here, he might as well stay a little longer.
Zhou Yingxiang was great at setting the mood. As soon as the candles were lit and the lights turned off, he nudged Chen Mengyao forward. "Start us off, superstar."
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."
Chen Mengyao had a striking beauty, her speaking voice carrying a mature, commanding tone. But when she sang, a smoky rasp emerged, lending a weathered quality perfect for folk ballads.
The birthday song from her lips lost its usual cheerfulness, instead taking on a romantic, lingering charm—as if steeped in a story of its own.
No one joined in to disrupt the atmosphere. The group simply clapped lightly, watching her sing.
In the flickering candlelight, Zhang Shu’s gaze gradually grew intense and profound, just like that night during military training.
Chen Mengyao almost didn’t want the song to end.
"Happy birthday to you..."
As the final note faded, she offered another blessing: "Happy birthday, Shu."
"Make a wish! Make a wish!" Hou Junqi urged.
Zhang Shu didn’t clasp his hands, close his eyes, or keep his wish to himself. With his usual nonchalance, he said, "Then I hope this year passes quickly so I can finally become an adult," before leaning forward to blow out the candles.
"Happy birthday!" The group cheered and applauded.
The lights came back on, and everyone dug into the overly sweet cake.
Zhang Shu only took a couple of polite bites before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks for tonight. Let’s all head back."
Zhou Yingxiang quickly added, "Let’s do this again soon."
"We’ll see," Zhang Shu replied noncommittally, then turned to Chen Mengyao. "How did you get here?"
Chen Mengyao shrugged. "Zhou Yingxiang picked me up."
Zhang Shu shot Zhou Yingxiang a look. "You invited her, so you take her home."
"Of course. I’ll make sure she gets back safe," Zhou Yingxiang assured.
Zhang Shu nodded. "Alright, let’s wrap it up. I’m out."
"Happy birthday, Shu!"
"Happy birthday!" a few voices called after his retreating figure.
Zhang Shu didn’t turn back, merely raising a hand in farewell.
The lights stretched the shadow of the seventeen-year-old boy long across the ground.
...Zhang Shu stepped outside before remembering his bike was parked at the teaching building's shed. Too lazy to go back for it, he decided to walk home.
The apartment in Wenboyuan was rented by Zhang Sujin. The school district housing prices here were terrifyingly expensive—no way could he afford it even if he sold food his entire life.
Even the rent wasn't cheap.
His sister had really gone all out for his schooling.
The lights were on inside. Zhang Shu called out, "Sis!"
Zhang Sujin emerged from the kitchen holding a small cake. After their argument, they hadn’t seen each other in a while, so both felt a little awkward now.
"Can’t you smile on your birthday?" Zhang Sujin set the cake on the coffee table and patted Zhang Shu’s butt.
Zhang Shu rubbed his backside. "How old am I, and you’re still spanking me? I think it’s not that you don’t want to get married—you just can’t!"
The words were spoken jokingly, a sign of Zhang Shu’s compromise.
Zhang Sujin understood and sighed. "Yeah, you’re right. It’s not that I don’t want to—I just can’t. When have I ever said I didn’t want to?"
"Well, since no one wants you, I’ll tough it out and take care of you for another year," Zhang Shu said sarcastically. "I’m officially seventeen today, which means I’m eighteen by traditional count. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be an adult. If you still can’t get married by then, I’m ditching you."
Next year, he’d be an adult—no longer a burden to anyone.
She could finally marry without worry.
Zhang Sujin gazed at Zhang Shu with a smile, her still-youthful face bearing eyes filled with an affection that didn’t match her age. "Fine. Once you turn eighteen, I’ll get married."
Zhang Shu: "Then you can start dating now."
Zhang Sujin: "Okay."
Zhang Shu: "Break your promise, and you’re a dog!"
Zhang Sujin nodded. "I’m a dog!"
"Sis, sing me 'Happy Birthday,' will you?"
Zhang Sujin’s smile faded. "No."
"But you texted me to come back. Just one line?" Zhang Shu clasped his hands together, begging like a puppy. "One line!"
Zhang Sujin stood firm. "No!"
Zhang Shu gave up.
All these years, he’d only heard Zhang Sujin sing in videos—her guitar slung across her chest, delicate fingers wrapped around the microphone, her voice lingering like silk, her gaze captivating with a single glance.
That was the real Zhang Sujin. That was the life a great beauty like her should have had.
He devoured the small cake and asked, "What’s for lunch tomorrow? Coke chicken wings?"
Zhang Sujin tidied the cake box and wiped the coffee table. From an angle Zhang Shu couldn’t see, she smiled, but her tone remained stern. "No choices. You eat what’s there."
Zhang Shu: "Heh."
Who was she making his favorite coke chicken wings for every day? If he didn’t show up soon, someone else would get sick of them, and the lunch program would go out of business.
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