Chapter 2 Zhou Zekai in high school was like a tree…

During his high school years, Zhou Zekai was like a quietly growing tree, only able to play a quiet background role in the noisy youth of others.

He wasn't a class representative and rarely participated in group activities. His only outstanding achievement was in math; his grades in other subjects were unremarkable. Although he was handsome, his quiet and reserved nature made him exceptionally unassuming. After becoming addicted to Honor of Kings, he stayed up all night playing, making it a regular occurrence to catch up on sleep at his desk during the day. Because of his exceptional gaming skills, he was quite popular among the boys, but in the eyes of the girls, the more outgoing and cheerful boys were clearly more attractive.

Zhao Zhinian and he seemed to be from two different worlds. As a class committee member and math representative, she was active in various activities and competitions and was very popular. She had two inseparable best friends and quite a few male friends. She always had a bright smile, and her long, straight black hair made her face look fresh and bright. While the girls around her were getting perms and dyes to show off their maturity, she always kept her simple and pure long, straight black hair. Later, Zhou Zekai had to admit that this simple black hair became the brightest mark of his youth, perhaps this was where his original aspirations lay.

Because of his exceptionally tall stature, Zhou Zekai consistently occupied the last row of the classroom. He would often secretly prop up his math textbook as a shield to conceal his lack of energy after staying up all night playing "Honor of Kings." Only during the ten minutes or so after morning reading ended would he straighten his back slightly, because at that time, Zhao Zhinian would collect homework from the first row.

Her footsteps were light and steady, like a reassuring rhythm. When he reached the last row, Zhou Zekai would always place the homework on the corner of the table half a minute early. This way, she wouldn't have to linger; she could simply lift her hand and finish her work.

But deep down, he secretly hoped that she would stay for a moment, even if only for a short while.

One Wednesday afternoon, this delicate balance was finally broken. Zhao Zhinian did not take away his homework as usual, but stopped and pointed to a solution formula that he had casually written on his textbook.

"This solution is quite unique." Her voice suddenly fell above him, like a soft feather. "I don't think the teacher mentioned this method before?"

Zhou Zekai looked up abruptly, meeting her smiling eyes. At that moment, he felt something choke him, and all the lines he had rehearsed in his mind instantly evaporated.

"I...researched it myself." He practically squeezed out those words through clenched teeth.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Her eyes curved into crescents, inexplicably reminding him of the neighbor's friendly Samoyed; her gaze was so clear and irresistible. "Could you teach me?"

The next fifteen minutes became the longest stretch of time in Zhou Zekai's high school years. He could smell the faint jasmine scent in her hair and see the tiny shadows cast by her eyelashes. She liked to furrow her brows slightly when doing calculations, her eyes would suddenly light up when she realized something, and she would nod unconsciously when she solved the problem... He quietly collected all these subtle movements and expressions into the box of his memory.

From that day on, Zhao Zhinian would often come to him to discuss math problems. Most of the boys in the class called him "Brother Kai," a name stemming from his outstanding Honor of Kings skills; he was not only the "number one" in their class but also quite famous in other classes. Zhao Zhinian started calling him that too, and her "Thanks, Brother Kai" after solving a problem made his ears subtly turn red. Hearing it from her lips carried a special sweetness.

She would occasionally jokingly call him "the student with special difficulties" because he was always catching up on sleep. But she would never know that this student with special difficulties could always accurately catch every word she said in his hazy sleep.

Their longest conversation took place one Friday evening, the only sound in the empty classroom being the scratching of a pen on paper. When she finally solved the long-standing problem, the setting sun shone through the window, casting a soft glow on her profile.

"Thanks, Kai-ge." She said while packing her schoolbag, "Do you want to participate in next month's math competition? I think you can definitely win an award."

Zhou Zekai nodded as if possessed.

A week later, he was called to the office to register for the competition. Bored, he stared blankly at the school's lagging computer. Whether it was the school's computer network that was too bad or the registration website's maintenance that was faulty, the webpage loading bar seemed to be frozen. He couldn't help but complain: If I were playing Honor of Kings on this computer, I would probably have wiped out the entire raid several times over.

A crisp "Report!" broke the silence. Zhao Zhinian pushed open the door and entered, her voice soft and sweet, characteristic of a southern girl.

This suddenly reminded him of his mother's often-joking remarks: "Wouldn't it be great to find a sweet Shanghai girl in the future? We'd have similar lifestyles, and it would be convenient for her to visit her parents' home." Every time he heard these words, he would remain silent, feeling awkward and uneasy.

Zhao Zhinian didn't notice him in the corner and went straight to her homeroom teacher. The teacher handed her a form: "Zhinian, it's not appropriate to fill in 3 for the number of people in your family. Also, in the family member section, in the column for your mother, Ms. Lin Nian..." The teacher hesitated.

Zhao Zhinian silently took the new form and filled it out again. Zhou Zekai inadvertently glanced at her reddened eyes and tightly pursed lips, a stubbornness that was desperately trying to control her emotions.

He hurriedly lowered his head, as if he had glimpsed some secret he shouldn't have known.

Only after she left did he dare to look up. When he explained the registration situation to the homeroom teacher, he caught a glimpse of the words "Number of family members: 2" on her new form, with only the father's information filled in the family member column.

Unfortunately, I didn't understand the purpose of the table.

He suddenly remembered when Zhao Zhinian smiled and told him the origin of her name at the beginning of the school year: "My father said that he wished to know and remember Ms. Lin Nian for a lifetime, so he named her Zhinian." At that time, she smiled sweetly, and anyone could see that she was a girl surrounded by love.

Stepping out of the office, Zhou Zekai hurried to catch up, only to spot that familiar figure on the overpass. He unconsciously slowed his pace, maintaining a perfectly measured distance. Few of his classmates had experienced family misfortune; he understood that the story of his parents' love was perhaps already a story, gone forever.

Back in the classroom, he secretly glanced at Zhao Zhinian, who was diagonally in front of him, from the back row. She was still smiling brightly, and her eyes curved into a beautiful arc as she whispered to her deskmate, showing no signs that she had just been crying.

A subtle pang of tenderness welled up in Zhou Zekai's heart, mixed with a hint of secret joy at sharing a secret: this was his second secret about her, one that belonged only to him.

The first secret was that he liked her.

Confessing his feelings was an impulsive act. Every second after sending the message was agonizing, a mixture of regret and anticipation. Her reply, however, was completely unexpected: besides doubting it was her, she also suspected his account had been hacked. Zhou Zekai had no experience confessing his feelings, but he had received confessions before thanks to his good looks. Regardless, he felt that a confession shouldn't be met with such a response.

What's even more upsetting is that when the homework was collected the next day, the carefree girl even came to confirm: "Was that you yesterday?" After receiving an affirmative answer, she ran away like a frightened deer.

After that, she never asked him math questions again, and she became increasingly silent when collecting homework. Although she was unwilling to admit it, this was probably a form of rejection.

Just as he was slowly processing his disappointment, news came that she was going abroad.

The day of parting was during a political science class. Zhao Zhinian went up to the front of the class to say a brief farewell. Zhou Zekai watched her back for the entire half-class period.

After class, she was surrounded by a crowd, and he couldn't find a reason to approach her.

I could only gaze at her reddened eyes from afar, just like I had done in the office back then.

He suddenly remembered that the form she filled out that day might have been related to going abroad, but he couldn't confirm it. However, this question was meaningless in the face of the established facts.

Shortly after Zhao Zhinian went abroad, Zhou Zekai also dropped out of school and embarked on the path of a professional Glory player.

The two lines that briefly intersected eventually extended to different distant places.

Only occasionally would he think of that little girl with long, straight black hair, and the moment her hair brushed against his homework.

After winning the championship, commercial activities came flooding in. He was so busy that he couldn't stop to think of the complaints from his friends in the professional player group: "The road to glory is just so cruel and beautiful."

Even playing games in peace has become a luxury. Zhou Zekai couldn't help but think of Ye Qiu, the senior of Glory, who helped Excellent Era win three consecutive championships and establish a dynasty. However, he was harassed by the club because he couldn't create commercial value. Because of his face, he was forced to take on too many commercial activities. In today's commercialized Glory, he could only compromise helplessly.

He was sitting in the dressing room, frowning at the script. Today was a one-and-a-half-hour online live interview, and the questions were nothing more than the same old gossip: "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Have you ever been in a relationship?" "Have you ever confessed your feelings?" He could recite the standard answers by heart: shake your head, smile, and say "no".

Zhou Zekai was very troubled. Why not let Jiang Botao appear on this kind of program? He was clearly better at talking.

Half an hour before the broadcast, his assistant suddenly knocked on the door and said he wanted to take him to meet the host.

As he walked through the corridor, Zhou Zekai was as reserved as a child being led by his parents to visit relatives; he had never been good at dealing with such so-called social etiquette.

The moment the door opened, the assistant's voice rang in my ears: "Let me introduce you, this is the host, Ms. Zhao Zhinian, and this is our Samsara Team captain, Zhou Zekai."

A note from the author:

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