Dou Sheng jogged up the short flight of stairs from the elevator to the rooftop terrace.

Xie Lan couldn’t be bothered to run. He followed behind, slowly pushing open the small door. The view from the roof was vast and open. The deep blue sky above seemed infinitely close, yet when he fixed his eyes on a star as a reference point, it suddenly felt incredibly far away.

Xie Lan hadn’t expected it to be this beautiful. He stood by the small door, dazed for a moment.

Dou Sheng was standing near the edge of the terrace filming the night view. His white shirt billowed in the wind, the hem lifting to reveal a section of a lean, firm waist. His right hand steadied the camera, using the strength of his wrist to pan and capture the wide-angle view to its fullest.

Turning in Xie Lan’s direction, Dou Sheng stopped and shouted, “Nun zai la bian zuo sa zi o.” (What are you doing over there?)¹

“……” Xie Lan was speechless. “Speak human language.”

“Human language is: come over here and look.” Dou Sheng waved at him. “You can’t see anything standing there.”

Walking to the edge of the terrace, he could look down more clearly at the British High School buildings and the thousands of lights from the surrounding homes.

Dou Sheng checked the footage he just shot and let out a satisfied tsk. “The night sky is really working today.”

Xie Lan suddenly remembered that Dou Sheng had been carrying a GoPro at school earlier and asked casually, “Why do you carry a camera with you if you only record Mukbang ASMR?”

Dou Sheng’s movements paused.

“Um… my fans are particularly perverted. They’re always urging me to find exciting settings, like eating in a quiet study room, or… eating in a teacher’s office.”

Xie Lan slowly revealed a bewildered expression upon hearing this.

Such a unique fetish?

He thought for a moment and couldn’t help but say, “But I don’t think you should always listen to them.”

“Why?” Dou Sheng asked casually.

Xie Lan chose his words carefully. “I think content creation should still be based on what you give. The audience might just ask randomly. If you give whatever they ask for, they might not want it anymore. But only you know what you are giving. What you give isn’t necessarily what they actually want, they actually don’t…”

This long logical expression failed.

Xie Lan was a bit speechless at himself and turned his head away in defeat. “Forget it.”

Dou Sheng couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It was low, but carried a hint of lightness.

“I understand what you mean.” He looked at him. “Thanks, I’ll consider it carefully.”

The security guard had only given them twenty minutes, so they had to head back after recording this short clip. Dou Sheng pushed open the door to the small staircase and said casually as he walked down, “I have actually been trying to figure out how to find a balance. As I get more fans, making things doesn’t feel as free as before. The current content output is too narrow, but if I broaden it, I’m afraid the fans won’t adapt. You know? Just feels like I have strength but nowhere to use it.”

Xie Lan followed behind him, thinking, No kidding. You have over two hundred uploads and they are all eating. No face, no talking. If you’re not narrow, who is?

He looked down and quickly looked up a word. “You can increase content types based on your… talent?”

“For example?” Dou Sheng seemed to perk up instantly.

Xie Lan followed him into the elevator. “Your talent is eating. Besides ASMR, you can also consider those things I read the other day. Abyssal Giant Mouth Swallowing Chicken Legs, Dark Cuisine, Iron Pot Stewing Yourself, and so on.”

“……”

The light in Dou Sheng’s eyes instantly went out.

Xie Lan looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Dou Sheng withdrew his gaze and stared straight ahead at the elevator doors. “I think I’m getting a little elevator sickness. Stop talking. Let’s be quiet.”

“?”

It was exactly midnight when they came out of the school gate. Looking back, the lights in Dorm 3 had been forcibly extinguished, with only one room on the far west side of each floor remaining lit. Dou Sheng said those were the 24-hour study rooms for the Year 3 students.

Xie Lan liked looking at lights, especially in the pitch-black, tranquil late night. When all was silent and dark, that little bit of light looked even better.

He watched for a while before reluctantly withdrawing his gaze. “By the way, do you know what the ‘anchor’ of content is in Chinese?”

Dou Sheng looked up from the ride-hailing app interface, stunned for a moment. “Anchor? Anchor point?”

“Yeah, you can consider creating an anchor point within the scene. With this, no matter how much your content changes, the audience won’t feel it’s unfamiliar.” Xie Lan thought for a moment. “A sense of familiarity is indeed very important. You have to always remain you.”

Dou Sheng looked at him, a sudden inquisitiveness in his eyes. “You seem to know a lot about this.”

Xie Lan paused. “I have a friend in the UK who does this kind of thing too.”

“Oh, no wonder.” Dou Sheng smiled. “Is your friend very good?”

Xie Lan nodded slightly. “He is two of you.”

“……”

Dou Sheng was confused again. “What does that mean?”

“He has over three million fans, so more than two of you.” Xie Lan said indifferently. “Those were all his precious ideas just now. You should listen carefully.”

Dou Sheng was silent for a moment. “Why do I suddenly feel a bit annoyed?”

Xie Lan glanced at him. “That is jealousy. You are jealous of the strong.”

Dou Sheng: “……”

On the ride back, Xie Lan suddenly felt extremely sleepy. Due to jet lag, he had woken up very early the past two mornings, so naturally, he got sleepy early at night. When they got home, Dou Sheng stood at his door to say goodnight. He was groggy and just hummed a response before pushing the door shut.

Early the next morning, Xie Lan was jolted awake by shouts of murder from next door.

“Get up! Get the hell up!!”

Little Ma was kicking the bed, trying hard to drag the dead body off of it.

Dou Sheng’s hair was messy from sleep. He half-opened his eyes to glance at him, then rolled over and wrapped himself in the quilt.

“Be a human being,” he mumbled. “I only went to sleep at five. Ask for leave for me. Tell Hu Xiujie I died.”

Little Ma was furious. “You have to die a few days every month, don’t you? Your mom said classes are being re-shuffled today!”

“What does re-shuffling have to do with me,” Dou Sheng said with his eyes closed. “Wherever I am, that is the A Class.”

Xie Lan at the door: “……”

Pretentious god.

Little Ma was panting heavily. He clearly looked to weigh one and a half times as much as Dou Sheng, yet he couldn’t drag the person on the bed.

Not only could he not move him, the guy was as immovable as a rock.

Xie Lan also found it quite strange. Standing at the door, he looked at the surface where Dou Sheng was stuck to the bed and seriously suspected he had glued himself down.

“Sigh.” Little Ma was tired, his voice weary. “Get up. See if there are any changes for Lan-lan today. Aren’t you going to help him recognize his new class?”

“Him?” Dou Sheng paused for a few seconds, finally lifting his head from the pillow. He frowned, eyes half-closed, looking at Xie Lan at the door. “How did you do on Physics?”

Xie Lan hesitated.

Little Ma looked at him with pleading eyes. He had no choice but to cooperate. “Hard to say.”

The room was quiet for a good while. Dou Sheng seemed to have fossilized, maintaining that neck-straining pose with eyes closed in meditation for a full thirty seconds.

Then he buried his head back into the quilt, heaved a long sigh, and threw the covers off. “Let’s go, let’s go.”

Little Ma was relieved of a heavy burden.

“Hurry up, wash up, be quick. If you’re late, the teacher will call your mom, and your mom will call me, and I’m finished. And, uh, Lan-lan, hurry down to eat. If Douzi doesn’t have time to eat, bring some for him.”

Little Ma spoke too fast for Xie Lan to keep up. He just watched Dou Sheng dawdle out of bed and asked, “What did you do last night?”

“Huh?” Dou Sheng turned his head, staring at him with unfocused eyes for a while before lowering his head and mumbling, “Editing footage.”

“He’s always like this.” Little Ma rolled his eyes and said to Dou Sheng, “Take it easy. Careful your mom doesn’t confiscate your computer.”

“Whatever.” Dou Sheng walked into the bathroom and skillfully kicked the door shut.

On the way to school, Dou Sheng performed the ‘101 Positions of Sleeping’.

Sleeping while standing, sleeping while sitting, sleeping while eating, sleeping while walking.

Sleeping with his head on his thigh, sleeping leaning back on the seat, sleeping sprawled on the car door.

Xie Lan went upstairs with him, terrified he would collapse onto him, so he deliberately kept a distance of a few meters.

What suffocated him was that these few meters allowed him the privilege of hearing girls passing by discussing Dou Sheng behind his back.

“Dou Sheng from Class 4 is really handsome.”

“High-spirited, handsome guys are truly my love.”

“Even yawning is… hehehe.”

Xie Lan briefly suspected he had memorized the idiom wrong again, confusing the meanings of “high-spirited” (意气风发) and “useless dog.²“

Passing by the Comprehensive Science Office, Xie Lan turned directly in.

Except for Director Hu Xiujie, who had a separate office, the other physics, chemistry, and biology teachers of the grade all worked together in one office. Xie Lan was a bit dazed when he walked in, suddenly realizing he didn’t recognize the chemistry or biology teachers at all.

A slightly chubby female teacher called him, “Xie Lan?”

“It’s me.” Xie Lan nodded immediately.

With that nod, he didn’t know if it was an illusion, but the office suddenly quieted down a few notches.

“My surname is Dong, Class 4’s chemistry teacher,” the female teacher said. “I heard about your general situation from Teacher Hu. Ah, you came back from this UK place. I called you here to ask, do they not teach chemistry in the UK? Since you basically handed in a blank paper, Director Hu said you chose chemistry.”

Another female teacher, around fifty years old and wearing glasses, said, “Have you studied biology? Basic plants and animals, cells, genes, human tissues, have you studied these?”

The chemistry teacher waved her hand. “Teacher Sun, wait a moment. I asked first.”

The speech was too fast for Xie Lan to keep up with, but he understood the general meaning. His science paper was indeed tragic; he had only scribbled a few things for chemistry and left biology completely blank.

He sighed and said to the chemistry teacher, “I studied chemistry in the UK.”

“What did you study?” The teacher asked immediately. “Atomic structure and properties, chemical equilibrium, inorganic and organic, electrolysis and hydrolysis?”

Xie Lan: “……” Haven’t memorized those terms yet.

He hesitated for a moment, then said slowly, “The situation is a bit complicated. Matter and stuff, studied. Equilibrium, studied. Electro-what? Electricity is physics.”

“……”

Looking at her confused expression, Xie Lan gave up and said, “It is indeed a bit different from here. Anyway, what I know right now is Hydrogen Helium Lithium Beryllium Boron Carbon Nitrogen Oxygen Fluorine Neon Sodium Magnesium Aluminum Silicon Phosphorus Sulfur Chlorine Argon Potassium Calcium.”³

“?”

Xie Lan added, “But I just learned that last night. I didn’t really know it during the exam.”

The chemistry teacher’s eyes gradually lost focus.

Several other chemistry teachers were also shocked. They put down their lesson plans one after another and began to stare at him.

Xie Lan weighed his words internally for a moment, then turned to the biology teacher. “Biology is simple. Didn’t study biology.”

Biology teacher: “……”

Fearing she might misunderstand British high schools, Xie Lan quickly added, “I didn’t choose it myself.”

Biology teacher: “……Oh.”

Sigh.

Xie Lan came with a heart full of sincere communication, but looking at the reactions of these teachers, it didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

Surrendering to the sense of responsibility of the motherland’s teachers, he leaned somewhat wearily against the windowsill—the same spot Dou Sheng had leaned on in Hu Xiujie’s office last time.

It was actually quite comfortable.

The chemistry teacher froze for a long time before recovering. “The teacher didn’t quite understand what you meant. I just wanted to ask what chemical reactions you have studied, not what chemical elements you know.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a blank comprehensive science test paper, flipped to a question, and quickly wrote [CuSO4.5H2O ==heat== CuSO4 + 5H2O] in the blank space with a ballpoint pen. She asked, “Take this basic question as an example. What change occurs?”

Xie Lan matched the Chinese in his mind. “Copper sulfate decomposes upon heating, blue crystals turn into white powder.”

“You know this!” The chemistry teacher put down her pen. “If you know it, why didn’t you write it? Why leave it blank?”

Xie Lan looked seriously at the stem of that question—

[In “Dream Pool Essays⁴” by Shen Kuo of the Northern Song Dynasty, it is recorded: “In Qianshan, Xinzhou, there is a bitter spring that flows into a stream. If you scoop up its water and boil it, it becomes gall vitriol (bile alum). If you cook the gall vitriol, it becomes copper.” If you heat the substance mentioned by Shen Kuo, what can you observe?]

Good lord.

Xie Lan hesitated and said, “I want to ask first, Teacher. Using classical Chinese for chemistry question stems—is this a unique educational feature of China?”

The chemistry teacher frowned. “What do you mean?”

Xie Lan sighed. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t know it, it’s that I don’t understand the question. I don’t know how to answer it.”

The chemistry teacher had question marks all over her face. “Isn’t that just meaning you don’t know it?”

“No.” Xie Lan reorganized his language in his mind. “Let’s put it this way. If I could understand this question, I could answer it.”

The chemistry teacher was numb.

She sat stiffly in her chair, looking up at Xie Lan, momentarily at a loss for how to ask further.

Until a male teacher said, “Xie Lan, is it that you don’t know that ‘Dan Fan’ (gall vitriol) is copper sulfate pentahydrate?”

Xie Lan was confused.

Dan fan?

“What ‘但凡’ (Dan Fan – provided that/if only) is copper sulfate pentahydrate?” He hesitated for a while. “I wanted to say, provided that (Dan Fan) I understood this question, I would know how to do it.”⁵

Chicken talking to a duck. (Complete lack of communication).

The silence in the office was frightening.

---

Translation Notes:

1. “Nun zai la bian zuo sa zi o” (儂崽拉邊做撒子哦): This is Dou Sheng’s “dialect mashup” again. It’s a mix of Shanghai/Wu dialect (“Nun” for you), Southwestern Mandarin/Sichuanese (“Zai” for at, “La bian” for there, “Zuo sa zi” for doing what). ↩︎
2. “Yi Qi Feng Fa” (High-spirited/Full of vigor): Xie Lan keeps confusing this idiom, likely thinking it sounds like something negative or lazy because he saw Dou Sheng acting lazy/sleepy. ↩︎
3. The string Xie Lan recites is the standard mnemonic for the first 20 elements in the periodic table used in Chinese schools ↩︎
4. The chemistry question uses a quote from an ancient text (Dream Pool Essays) to describe a chemical process. This is a common style in Chinese exams to integrate history/culture with science, which completely baffles Xie Lan, who can barely read modern Chinese. ↩︎
5. “Dan Fan” (膽礬 vs 但凡): The core misunderstanding at the end. The teacher asks if he knows “Dan Fan” (Gall Vitriol/Chalcanthite). Xie Lan hears “Dan Fan” (But/Provided that/If only).
   -Teacher: “Don’t you know [Chemical Name] is copper sulfate pentahydrate?”
   -Xie Lan hears: “Don’t you know [If only] is copper sulfate pentahydrate?”
   =Xie Lan’s response: “What ‘if only’ is copper sulfate…? I wanted to say, if only I understood the question…” ↩︎