The typhoon swept through in broad daylight, and calmed down when the sun set. The fury it had when it was roaring at full force disappeared into thin air, sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening everything silently.
Although it was not a spring breeze, many people in Wanghai could not tell whether it was summer or autumn. Not everything was moistened, leaving behind fallen leaves, wet mud, broken trees, puddles on the roadside, and children playing in the water.
Older students in high school certainly can’t play in the water with their bare chests without any shame, but because of strong winds and heavy rains, the school starts one day later. In the eyes of many students, a typhoon that allows them to miss a day of classes is a good typhoon.
However, this typhoon was more severe than usual. It not only delayed the start of school, but also delayed the time for students to move into the dormitory. It was not until the next day that students and parents lined up in a long queue to move their luggage into the dormitory.
Therefore, today in Wanghai No. 1 Middle School, there are several distinct groups of people. Students with good family backgrounds look at the luxury cars coming and going, and form circles with their parents as role models, smiling at each other, or stopping to chat.
Wanghai No. 1 Middle School is such an institution. Most of its students are children from wealthy families and powerful people. What they pay attention to is always different from that of ordinary students. Although most of the time they are playing power-playing games imitating their parents, it cannot be denied that a small number of people like them are indeed one step ahead of others in some aspects.
For the majority of other students, many don’t care or pay attention. Even more don’t recognize the car logos at all, let alone know what tricks the children of the owners of these luxury cars are performing in front of them.
The poor students were complaining about the start of school, while the good students had already packed their luggage, had dinner, and went to the classroom to study.
There's another type of student... Next to the cafeteria, there's a large banyan tree. A young man sits in the tree's base, looking at the luxury cars scattered around. He sighs, "What old antiques!"
Such pretentious remarks immediately drew sneers from passersby: "The floor is full of this year's new models, starting from the 50s."
The boy smiled but didn't explain. The classmate seemed even more indignant and said, "You understand and yet you don't, you're such a show-off. I want to see how much your car costs. No, you don't have a car, do you?"
After hearing this, the boy began to look around, as if he wanted to show off his family's luxury car as soon as possible to slap his classmate in the face.
Then his eyes lit up and he pointed to the car on the side of the road.
The classmate was stunned and said with a sigh, "BMW 5 Series, it's not bad."
The boy shook his head and pointed again. His classmate's gaze turned back a little. After looking for a long time, he dared to confirm that the other party was referring to the small pickup truck used to transport goods.
The classmate was stunned, then laughed in anger, and stood up and said, "You're pretty funny, which class are you from?"
The condescending attitude was meant to be threatening, but from this angle, he could actually see the boy's slightly raised eyes under his messy hair.
He immediately felt his throat being tightened and constricted, the emptiness without any content making it difficult for him to breathe, and the threats and ridicule that were about to come out of his mouth turned into a vague "hmm".
Before he could get angry because of the look, the boy patted his shoulder in a familiar manner and said, "I know you, Xu Jingwen."
Xu Jingwen said sternly, "I don't fucking know you."
The young man didn't care and stretched out his hand, saying, "Now I know you. You are in the same class and even the same dormitory as me, Chen Tinghan."
Chen Tinghan stood in the campus after the typhoon, stepping into a rare clear pond amidst the mud and fallen leaves. He saw his fifteen or sixteen-year-old self reflected in the pond, wearing the characteristic green pants and Crocs of Wanghai No. 1 Middle School. Surrounded by familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar faces, he was in a trance for a moment, unable to tell whether it was Zhouzhuang dreaming of a butterfly or the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou.
Was this a dream? If it was a dream, the arrogance and domineering Xu Jingwen in front of him was too vivid. They hadn't seen each other for seven or eight years. How could Chen Tinghan remember it so clearly?
If this wasn't a dream, then why was there this hazy and unreal feeling I was seeing?
As his thoughts raced, Chen Tinghan looked up at his childhood friend, who was looking at him unkindly. He subconsciously tried to smooth things over, "Look, is our car old enough? It's definitely not comparable to the BMWs, Mercedes-Benzes, and Audis next to it."
Although his curse words had almost become his catchphrase and he looked quite scoundrel, Xu Jingwen was not an ignorant little scoundrel. After all, he was just a young man with a strong will. When he had a chance, he took it. He shook Chen Tinghan's hand and said proudly:
"My family is rich, but we don't use our cars to judge people. Look at their arrogant attitude, it makes me sick. Don't take them too seriously."
"Of course." Chen Tinghan laughed heartily.
After saying that, he took out his phone from his pocket, glanced at it, and said apologetically, "Look, I still have so much luggage to move. It's getting late, I'll finish it quickly and treat you to dinner before evening study."
"I'm not free today. I was just transferred from the liberal arts department to the science department, so I need to walk around more. Let's go tomorrow. I'll treat you tomorrow."
Tomorrow... Chen Tinghan felt very strange, because the time on his mobile phone was: September 2, 2014. The so-called tomorrow was already a phantom of yesterday to him, so the cars on the street should have been out of production for more than ten or twenty years in his opinion.
Shaking his head, Chen Tinghan didn't stay any longer. His mind had already flown away to the old and broken pickup truck.
The car windows were covered with film, making it difficult to see what was going on inside. Perhaps out of fear, Chen Tinghan did not go around to the front of the car to take a look. Instead, he walked forward step by step from behind the car. The more he walked, the more he felt that time was like a rope, being pulled longer and thinner, and finally as thin as a line, and it seemed that he would never reach the end no matter how hard he tried.
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