Chapter 31
Once May was over, the days began to fly by. The countdown numbers on the blackboard were finally written out, still in three digits, but the steadily decreasing trend itself carried a heavy sense of urgency. The atmosphere in the classroom grew more tense each day; fewer people chatted during breaks, while more slept on their desks or worked on problems against the clock. The air was filled with the mixed smell of chalk dust and a silent anxiety.
Fang Chi's life remained routine. Classroom, lab, library, home—a simple cycle. He rarely spoke, except when discussing problems. His face was expressionless, his brows furrowed most of the time as he stared at his books or exam papers. His problem-solving speed increased rapidly, and his accuracy became astonishingly high. Teachers praised him highly, often using him as a role model. His classmates looked at him with a mixture of envy and a touch of awe, and few dared to disturb his seemingly enclosed little world.
That empty seat by the window has now completely blended into the classroom's background. The student on duty will wipe the desk occasionally, but no one mentions it anymore. Occasionally, an unsuspecting student from another class will come looking for someone, pointing to that seat and asking, "Is this seat empty?" The student next to them will reply without looking up, "They transferred schools." The person who asked will say "Oh," and the conversation ends there.
Only Fang Chi himself knew that some things hadn't completely disappeared with time. For example, when the physics teacher explained an extremely ingenious derivation, his eyes would unconsciously glance to the side, as if waiting for someone to react with the same raised eyebrow or deep thought. For example, when he found a rare reference in the library, his first thought was still, "He should be able to use this." And for example, after checking the answer to a complex problem alone late at night, the urge to share, debate, or simply confirm with someone would still unexpectedly surge up, only to crash into a silent void.
He simply learned to extinguish those thoughts more quickly. With the next problem, the next set of notes, the next experiment requiring complete concentration. It was as if, as long as he was busy enough, those tiny, untimely ripples would subside before they could spread.
He Chen and Tan Si remained his two most constant companions. He Chen seemed to have completely accepted the reality of Xing Jiayan's "flying away," and his complaints had changed from "Brother Yan is so unfair" to "Who knows where that guy is having fun now." He was still boisterous, playing basketball, playing games, and struggling with math problems, but he also started to look through those thick review materials more frequently, and a rare hint of seriousness would occasionally flash across his brow. Tan Si was still the same as always, quiet but with a strong presence, always handing Fang Chi a bottle of water or a well-organized set of notes when needed, or simply reminding him, "It's time to eat."
In early June, the pressure of final exams descended like a tangible dark cloud. All subjects entered their final review phase, with test papers and mock exams raining down. Fang Chi was stretched to his limit. He practically lived in the library and lab; the dark circles under his eyes grew increasingly pronounced, but the focus in his eyes was frighteningly intense. He Chen tried several times to persuade him to go out and relax, but Fang Chi refused each time.
The night before the exam, Fang Chi studied late into the night. When he closed the last notebook, it was past midnight. He walked to the window, looking out at the quiet campus and the sparse lights in the distance. A warm summer night breeze blew in.
He recalled the night before the final exams last year. It was just as sweltering, and he and Xing Jiayan stayed in the library until closing time, arguing heatedly over the last physics problem, neither able to convince the other. Finally, the librarian came to urge them to leave, and they finally packed up and left. On their way back to the dormitory, they were still exchanging solutions, until they parted ways at the intersection, each throwing out a parting remark: "We'll see who's the real deal in the exam tomorrow."
The tension and excitement back then were real, warm and genuine. Now, all that's left is a cold, mechanical feeling of having to complete the task.
He closed the window and returned to his desk. His stationery bag for tomorrow's exam lay on the corner of the desk; he checked it carefully to make sure everything was in order. Then he turned off the lamp and lay down on his bed. In the darkness, he lay awake, listening to his own breathing.
The next day, the final exams began. For three days straight, the air seemed to freeze. The only sounds in the exam hall were the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional footsteps of the proctors. Fang Chi answered the questions smoothly, encountering almost no obstacles. After each exam, he could hear groans or sounds of relief around him, but he felt nothing, simply quietly tidying up his things to prepare for the next exam.
The last exam was over, the bell rang, and everyone handed in their papers. As I walked out of the exam hall, the sunlight was blinding. A huge uproar erupted in the school building, a mixture of cheers of relief, arguments over answers, and the sound of luggage being dragged across the floor. Grade 11 was over.
Fang Chi slowly walked down the stairs with the crowd. He Chen caught up from behind, hooked his arm around Fang Chi's neck, and said in a voice filled with exhaustion and excitement after finishing the exam, "Damn, it's finally over! Fang Chi, we have to celebrate tonight! It's on me!"
Tan Si also came over, a rare look of relief on his face.
Fang Chi was a little breathless from He Chen's grip, but he broke free and nodded: "Okay."
The celebration took place at their usual small restaurant near the school. It was crowded, mostly with students who had just finished their exams, and the atmosphere was noisy. The three of them found a corner seat. He Chen generously ordered a ton of food and several drinks.
"Come on, let's drink water instead of wine!" He Chen raised his glass. "A toast to our miserable second year of high school, finally out of here!"
The glasses clinked together, making a crisp sound. Fang Chi took a sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat.
"Fang Chi, you must be number one in the grade again, right?" He Chen asked between bites. "How did you prove that last math problem? I feel like there's something wrong with my steps..."
Fang Chi briefly explained his thought process. After listening, He Chen wailed, "It's over, I lost points again. Tan Si, what about you?"
Tan Si succinctly replied: "The same."
"Fine, I guess I'm the worst." He Chen joked to himself, but quickly perked up again. "Never mind, as long as the exams are over! What are your plans for summer vacation? Fang Chi, are you still spending all your time in the lab?"
Fang Chi paused in his act of picking up food. "Well, there are still some follow-up projects to finish."
And you, Tan Si?
“Reading, traveling,” Tan Si said.
"Boring," He Chen pouted. "I'm planning to sleep with him for three days and three nights, then go on a trip with my parents. Sigh, if Yan-ge were here, we could play ball together..." After he finished speaking, he seemed to realize something, lowered his voice, and glanced at Fang Chi.
Fang Chi kept his head down, eating his food, without reacting.
A subtle silence fell over them for a moment. He Chen quickly changed the subject, talking about movies and games that would be released during the summer vacation. Fang Chi responded occasionally, but mostly listened. They were surrounded by the noisy chatter and the clatter of dishes in the restaurant, a kind of superficial liveliness.
After finishing their meal, they walked out of the restaurant. The summer night breeze dispelled the daytime heat, the streetlights came on, and pedestrians strolled leisurely. He Chen stretched: "Finally, I can catch my breath. Senior year of high school... just thinking about it is terrifying."
"Two more months," Tan Si said.
"Two months is still a holiday!" He Chen emphasized, then patted Fang Chi on the shoulder, "Alright, everyone go home and find your mothers. Happy holiday!"
The three parted ways at the subway entrance. Fang Chi walked home alone. He passed a basketball court on the way, where people were still playing basketball under the cover of night, the sounds of the game carrying far in the darkness. He glanced at it but didn't stop.
When I got home, both my parents were there. My mother asked how the exam went, and I said it was alright. My father asked about my summer vacation plans, and I said I still had things to do at the lab and might need to preview the material for my senior year of high school.
"Don't overwork yourself," Mom said. "You still need to rest when you need to."
“I know,” Fang Chi replied.
After showering and returning to his room, he sat at his desk. The desk was already tidy, with his high school textbooks and notebooks neatly stacked to one side. He opened the drawer and took out the hardcover notebook. Inside, the small Polaroid photo was still there. The smile in the photo was still bright, but the fading at the edges seemed a little more noticeable.
He looked at it for a while, closed the notebook, and put it back in the drawer. There was no lock.
Then he turned on his computer and logged into the forum he hadn't visited in a long time. The account "Late" was online, but the message list was empty. "Yan's" avatar was still grayed out, and the last login time was several months ago. He opened the private message window; the cursor blinked in the blank space.
He typed a few words: "The second year of high school is over."
His finger hovered over the send button for a long time. Finally, he deleted it, word by word. He exited and shut down the phone.
The screen went dark, revealing his expressionless face.
At the same time, in Singapore.
The school's final assessments had just finished. Here, there weren't the concentrated exams of China, but rather a combination of projects, papers, and quizzes spanning several weeks. Xing Jiayan completed them with ease, his transcript still showing straight A's. His advisor spoke with him again, this time more formally suggesting he consider applying for early admission to several top universities and offering to write letters of recommendation.
Xing Jiayan politely thanked the teacher, accepted the thick university brochures, and said he would read them carefully. Stepping out of the office, he was met with the blazing Southeast Asian sun, so bright it was almost blinding. He stuffed the brochures into his bag and walked down the corridor towards the classroom. The corridor was plastered with posters for various club activities and summer programs, vibrant and full of energy. Several classmates were gathered together, excitedly discussing where they would travel during the holidays, their laughter ringing out.
He walked past them and into the empty classroom. His seat was by the window, offering a view of the lush tropical plants outside and the glass curtain walls of distant high-rise buildings. Singapore's summer has no end; it's always so verdant and sweltering.
He sat down and took out his phone. He swiped the screen, then locked it again. He repeated this several times. Finally, he opened his browser, unconsciously typed in the familiar school name, and searched for it in the news section. Soon, he saw brief reports about the end-of-term exam awards, as well as news about the new graduating class's pep rally. Unsurprisingly, that name was at the top of the list of outstanding students.
He stared at those two words for a few seconds, then closed the webpage.
His backpack was heavy with university materials. He took one out and flipped through it—beautiful pictures, enticing descriptions, and a future brimming with endless possibilities. But after a few pages, he couldn't concentrate. Those distant, unfamiliar campus scenes failed to stir much emotion in him.
After school, he went straight home to his apartment. His mother, unusually home that day, was preparing dinner in the kitchen. Hearing him return, she poked her head out and asked, "Did you finish the exam? How did it go?"
"It's alright." He put down his schoolbag.
"That's good. Wash your hands and eat. I made soup today."
During dinner, his mother asked about his summer vacation plans and his thoughts on applying to university. Xing Jiayan mentioned his teacher's advice and also said that he hadn't made a complete decision yet.
"No rush, there's still time." His mother ladled him a bowl of soup, her tone gentler than usual. "Think it through yourself, choose what you like and what's suitable. Mom will support you."
"Mm." Xing Jiayan took the soup bowl. The soup was delicious, but he drank it rather slowly.
"How about going out for a trip during summer vacation? Or, go back to China for a visit?" the mother asked tentatively, her eyes filled with mixed emotions.
Xing Jiayan paused for a moment. "We'll see. Maybe we should prepare the application materials first." He didn't directly answer the second question.
The mother nodded and didn't ask any further questions. The two finished their meal quietly. After the mother cleared away the dishes, Xing Jiayan returned to his room.
He turned on his computer and processed a few emails. Then, as he had done many nights before, he opened the encrypted folder. There wasn't much inside, just a few old photos, an offline-saved chat log, and the original image of the Marina Bay night view he'd posted on WeChat Moments on New Year's Eve.
He opened the chat history and slowly scrolled down. Those posts about physics problems, mathematical conjectures, and even the occasional complaints about the school cafeteria, now felt like a distant memory. He could clearly recall his feelings when he typed them—excitement, defiance, or simply wanting to share something with the person on the other side of the screen.
The cursor is on the last line. It's the link to the paper he sent and the sentence, "Interesting, take a look." There's no reply.
He closed the document and leaned back in his chair. The air conditioning in the room was on full blast, making it a bit chilly. He picked up his phone, opened the camera app, and took a picture of the dimly lit night view outside the window. The angle was similar to the one he took on New Year's Eve, except that the clouds were thicker tonight, making the lights appear hazy.
He looked at the photo for a while, neither saving nor deleting it. Then he turned off the screen.
Summer vacation has begun.
Fang Chi didn't relax immediately. He spent several days systematically organizing all his notes and mistakes from his second year of high school, categorizing and archiving them. Then, he began to study the core content of physics and mathematics for the third year of high school ahead of schedule, according to his own plan. The project in the laboratory was also in its final stages, and he went there almost every day, staying for most of the day.
After having a few days of fun after the exams, He Chen was also forced into a summer tutoring class by his parents, wailing and complaining in the group chat. Tan Si seemed to have really gone on a trip, posting a few landscape photos on his WeChat Moments, without any people, only tranquil mountains or vast seas.
One day in mid-July, Fang Chi came out of the laboratory as dusk approached. He went around to the small bookstore behind the school, hoping to find a reference book. The bookstore was small, the bookshelves were crammed together, and the air was thick with the smell of old paper and ink. He slowly searched through the physics section, his fingers tracing the spines of the books.
Suddenly, his gaze fell upon a competition book with a familiar title. He pulled it out and opened it to the title page. There was a faint line of pencil writing, almost erased, with a familiar initial and a date—written last year. This book had probably been recalled by the school and then sold here.
Fang Chi stood there, holding the book, stunned for a long time. The bookstore owner asked from behind the counter, "Young man, would you like this one?"
He snapped out of his daze, nodded, and paid.
As he left the bookstore, the setting sun bathed the streets in a golden-red hue. Holding the book, he didn't immediately go home, but instead walked to the stands of the school playground. There weren't many people there, only a few elderly people jogging.
He sat down in the stands and opened the book. Next to many of the questions were faint pencil annotations, the handwriting clear and neat—a style he was familiar with. Some places were checked off, some were marked with question marks, and a few contained brief hints or better solutions.
He flipped through the pages one by one, as if he could see through the cold printed words and faint pencil marks the person sitting here, whether in the library or at their desk at home, frowning in thought, and then writing these marks.
The sun gradually sank below the horizon, leaving only a last glimmer of warm light. A breeze swept across the empty playground, carrying the faint sounds of distant city life.
Fang Chi closed the book and hugged it to his chest. He gently pressed his forehead against the hard cover and closed his eyes.
As dusk settled, the last rays of light vanished. The stands were shrouded in the grey-blue night.
He sat alone for a long time, until night had completely fallen, before standing up, slowly walking down from the stands, and heading towards home. The book in his hand was somewhat heavy, but he held it tightly.
Summer vacation slipped by quietly amidst burying himself in books, occasional lab work, and He Chen's intermittent harassment. One day in August, Fang Chi received a notice from the school that the senior year class and dormitory assignments had been released. He was assigned to Senior Year 3 (Class 1), the science-focused key class. His homeroom teacher was still Old Xu.
He saw He Chen and Tan Si's names on the list, as well as many familiar and unfamiliar classmates. His gaze swept over the list from top to bottom, but he didn't see that name.
This was expected. He closed the notification page and continued working on the problem at hand.
At the end of August, summer vacation was drawing to a close. A slight chill of early autumn began to set in. Fang Chi finished the final summary of his senior year study notes and closed them. The lab project was also officially completed, and the report was submitted.
He took a day off, neither studying nor doing homework. He slept in until he naturally woke up in the morning, watched a movie at home in the afternoon, and took a walk with his parents in the evening. It was a very ordinary day.
That evening, he packed his schoolbag, putting away some of the materials he had used in his second year of high school and placing in the new books and notebooks he would need for his third year. His movements were methodical and efficient.
After tidying everything up, he sat at his desk, gazing at the deep night outside the window. The city's light pollution had reduced the number of stars to a mere sliver; only a faint crescent moon hung in the sky.
The second year of high school is finally over. Like a closed book, some chapters were written with great detail, some were hastily written, and some pages are left with blanks that cannot be filled.
Tomorrow marks the start of my senior year of high school.
He turned off the desk lamp and lay down on the bed. In the darkness, his eyes were open, his thoughts drifting. He recalled the awkwardness and curiosity he felt when he first entered high school, the first time he argued with someone in physics class because of differing answers, the countless days and nights he spent battling through sea of problems and on the sports field, and those secret, unspoken feelings that had died before they could be expressed.
Finally, it all turned into a barely audible sigh, dissipating into the silent room.
He turned over and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow will be another new day. A new classroom, a new journey, a new senior year without that person.
Meanwhile, in a city on the other side of the world, the summer rainy season is unpredictable. A teenager is also preparing for the new semester, facing a stack of unfamiliar college application forms and a future where that person is no longer a part of his life.
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