As expected, Song Qingmo came in first place. He didn't seem tired at all when he crossed the finish line. He stood still and exhaled slightly. Mu Hengshi wasn't tired either, and he was still as respectable as ever. When his classmates saw Song Qingmo running over to support him, they surrounded him and cheered. Their class felt proud for once.

Mu Hengshi was not spared either. The classmates tacitly separated the two of them. Mu Hengshi wanted to go find Song Qingmo, but he was surrounded by people and couldn't move. He could only watch Song Qingmo being surrounded by people in the crowd.

His expression remained indifferent, but Mu Hengshi knew he was happy. Unconsciously, he took out his phone to record the moment when Song Qingmo was being hailed as the moon by the stars. People's perception of Song Qingmo was once again refreshed.

Mu Hengshi slowly caressed the face on the screen that captivated his heart. This was the only way they could be closer now. Even beneath the fading golden light, Song Qingmo still radiated a radiance unique to the galaxy.

During the award ceremony, Song Qingmo spotted a familiar figure. It turned out to be the Dean of Students. But how could he not have known the person presenting the award was the Dean of Students? Just as he was wondering, the Dean of Students looked at Song Qingmo with a smile. "When you passed by me that day, I knew you were a promising young talent. I was right," he said, patting Song Qingmo's shoulders twice. After a long pause, he handed the gold medal to Song Qingmo.

Seeing that Song Qingmo still hadn't remembered despite his reminders, the Dean of Studies felt somewhat disgusted with him for being useless. He finally managed to find Song Qingmo from the surveillance footage after much effort. He had originally intended to give Song Qingmo a hard time in the 5,000-meter race, but he hadn't expected him to run so fast. He'd miscalculated.

The exciting sports meet lasted a few days longer before finally coming to an end, and the students returned to their intense studies. Only Song Qingmo continued to muddle through each day, even avoiding Mu Hengshi from time to time.

In his mind, he kept calculating when Mu Hengshi would be able to go abroad. Otherwise, he would not be able to hold on any longer. Before Song Qingmo could finally get through this, things soon took a turn for the better—Mu Hengshi’s birthday party.

Mu Hengshi was a few months younger than Song Qingmo and even taller, which made Song Qingmo very unhappy. The Mu family valued face the most, but for some reason this year, they only invited the Song family to join them and did not hold a grand banquet as usual.

Song Qingmo clung to the crack in the door. He didn't want to go to the Mu family. He didn't like any of them. The Mu family was Ningbo people at heart, only caring about their own interests. In his previous life, when the Song family was in trouble, he had begged the two of them but was driven out, saying that he was powerless.

They clearly didn't want to get involved. After all, swallowing up the Song family would be beneficial to them, and it would also further consolidate their position in the capital. Even when they owed money, they didn't contribute a penny to help them. They only valued their son, Mu Hengshi.

Now thinking back on the Song family's misfortune and his own muddled marriage to Mu Hengshi, he was probably also responsible. So, in this life, he had become much more distant from both of them, no longer as respectful and close as before. This was especially true of Mu Hengshi; his dislike for him was completely exposed.

Song's mother patted Song Qingmo's forehead and said, "You gave me so many things that day, and you didn't even give me anything in return. Now you don't even look at them." Song Qingmo held his head and stared at his mother with grievance. It turned out that not understanding anything is the happiest thing. In the end, he had to bear it all alone.

"Well, just go for a while, it's okay if you just pretend. I know you've become quite estranged from them. Don't worry, if you really don't like them, we won't have any contact with them in the future. We're going back to our hometown anyway." Song's mother couldn't do anything with Song Qingmo. Something had been wrong with her son since he passed the high school entrance exam. He even asked them to sell the property. Although she was reluctant and doubtful, the seriousness in her son's eyes could not be faked.

It just so happened that they had come north for business and hadn't been back for a long time. As they say, fallen leaves return to their roots, and Song's parents really missed their hometown in Sichuan City. Isn't it for the happiness of children that one works hard for half a lifetime? Now they have the ability, but since Song Qingmo doesn't fight or compete, then let's not fight or compete.

"Now, for both emotional and logical reasons, you still have to go."

"Okay." Song Qingmo agreed reluctantly.

Song Qingmo was just about to leave when Mu Hengshi walked in slowly from the garden. "Hello, Aunt Song." Mu Hengshi first greeted me and then turned around. "Song Qingmo, I've been waiting for you for a long time. Seeing that you didn't come, I came to invite you in person."

Song Qingmo took a closer look at Mu Hengshi's outfit. Although he was not dressed formally, his attire and clothing were very sophisticated, and every detail was exquisite. If others didn't know, they would think he was here for a blind date.

"That's not necessary, but are you sure you want me to spoil the fun?" Song Qingmo crossed his arms and looked at him sideways.

"No, just you come." You kept arguing with each other, neither of you giving in.

Song Qingmo didn't have a gift prepared, so he ran upstairs, thinking of something, and came back down a moment later. He looked again and saw a piece of paper in his hand. "Here, a gift." Mu Hengshi took the paper from Song Qingmo. The drawing on it was of himself, the culprit who made Mu Hengshi think that Song Qingmo had a crush on him.

Song Qingmo originally wanted to throw away this painting, as he did in his previous life, but for some unknown reason he kept it. When he gave it to Mu Heng today, it was considered a perfect ending.

Mu Hengshi's throat heaved, his heart aching. It took a long time for him to utter, "What do you mean?" As far as Mu Hengshi knew, this was the only piece of paper Song Qingmo had drawn on him. Was he giving it to him now because he didn't want to have anything to do with him in the future?

Song Qingmo said nothing and walked out of the house on his own. At the Mu family, Song Qingmo forced himself to keep a smile and nonchalantly responded to Mu's father and mother's concerns. They had a meal in such an odd atmosphere. Mu Hengshi's 17th birthday cake was pushed up.

Song Qingmo was speechless for a moment. The cake looked horrible. It smelled burnt, the cream was randomly squeezed on the surface, and the chocolate and fruit were all crooked, like a weird painting.

"This is the cake I made. Although it's a little ugly, I tried it and it tastes pretty good. I hope you don't mind." Mu Hengshi blushed rarely. He always ate the birthday cakes made by Song Qingmo himself, and he also wanted to make one, but he didn't expect... the result was not satisfactory.

Mu's mother and the others also had unusually tense faces, and it was hard to tell what their expressions were. Are they really supposed to eat it?

No one made a move, meeting Mu Heng's gaze. Song Qingmo silently turned his face away. He didn't want to eat dark cuisine. Wasn't Mu Heng a great cook before? How could the pastry be so difficult to describe?

In order not to spoil the birthday boy's fun, they each reluctantly ate a little of the cake. The servants took the most. Mu Hengshi was completely oblivious to their disdain. "If you still like it in the future, I can make more."

Mu's father quickly put down his fork and said solemnly, "Well done. Don't do it next time. As the heir of our Mu family, we should focus on the company's business and not be bothered by these trivial matters." Others also echoed.