Xie Lan’s bedroom was on the second floor, facing south—a suite with its own ensuite bathroom.

Zhao Wenying pointed next door. “You’re right next to Douzi. If there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable telling Auntie, just knock on his door directly.”

Dou Sheng slung his backpack over one shoulder and walked straight into the adjacent room, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel.

“Brat,” Zhao Wenying said, blocking the door from closing fully. “I was talking to both of you. Did you hear me?”

Only then did Dou Sheng lift his eyelids slightly. “Didn’t realize you were addressing two people.”

“Oh, come off it.” Zhao Wenying smacked him on the arm. “If you dare cause any trouble for me, just wait and see how I deal with you.”

Hearing this, Dou Sheng glanced at Xie Lan and offered a very perfunctory instruction: “Exam tomorrow. Sleep early. Goodnight, yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Exam tomorrow?” Xie Lan turned his head sharply.

“Yep.” Dou Sheng suddenly smiled—a bright, dazzling smile that made one want to slap him into the afterlife.

He waved his good-looking paw, first signaling a six, then a one. “Six major subjects, all done in one day.”

Pia! Zhao Wenying slapped his hand down. “Do you have a death wish? Why didn’t you say so earlier!”

“I said there was an exam,” Dou Sheng said, looking entirely innocent.

“Did you say it was tomorrow?!”

Dou Sheng chuckled, casting his gaze toward Xie Lan. “Morning is Chinese and Math back-to-back, with a ten-minute bathroom break in between. Afternoon is the Science Comprehensive. Evening self-study is English.”

Xie Lan felt a wave of suffocation.

Zhao Wenying gritted her teeth. “Try acting like a human being, will you? To think someone like you actually has fans.”

Xie Lan paused. “What fans?”

Whether it was an illusion or not, Dou Sheng’s face seemed to stiffen for a split second.

“None. I’m sleepy,” he said, quickly slipping into his room and shoving the door shut with a loud clunk.

The vibration caused a sign hanging on the door to fall off. It read: “Business Closed for the Day.”

Xie Lan: “…”

Zhao Wenying rolled her eyes and flipped the sign over. “Don’t pay attention to him. If you need anything, just knock.”

The flip side of the sign read: “Open for Business: Insert Coin Before Knocking.”

Xie Lan was completely bewildered.

Zhao Wenying didn’t stay long. She told Xie Lan where to find fresh clothes, left a domestic SIM card and a bottle of melatonin, and then left.

It took Xie Lan a moment to realize the bottle was melatonin, meant to help with jet lag. But he didn’t plan on taking it. Rather than forcing himself to sleep, he figured he should cram—specifically focusing on the Chinese terminology for Math and Physics. He needed to match the terms to the knowledge systems already in his brain, otherwise, tomorrow would be a disaster.

But the problem was, he had no materials to study.

Because of the explosive conflict with Xie Jingming, his return to China was two months earlier than planned, and he had brought very few things. His violin and camera were essentials; aside from those, he only had his phone, a card wallet, and a few of his mother’s journals.

Now, his phone was bricked, rendering him helpless.

Just as he was stewing in frustration, someone cleared their throat outside the door.

Dou Sheng’s low voice resonated through the wood. “Asleep?”

“No.”

Xie Lan got up and opened the door.

Dou Sheng had changed into pajamas. In just a few minutes, he had already showered; his hair was damp with moisture.

He was already pale, but after a shower, he practically glowed white. In his left hand, he held a clear plastic box containing two pitch-black pastries; in his right, he dangled an iPhone.

He spoke leisurely. “This is my old phone. I’ve already wiped the old data, so borrow it for now. The Wi-Fi is already connected.”

Just as he was worrying about a phone, one appeared.

Xie Lan felt a bit conflicted. Taking the phone meant accepting a favor—and from the person who had wished him to be “youthful, beautiful, invincible, and cute,” no less.

But without a phone, tomorrow’s exam would truly be doomed.

“Do you want it or not?” Dou Sheng drawled lazily. “My speaking speed is slow enough already; is your brain having a bad connection?”

Xie Lan took the phone and said coolly, “Thanks. I’ll transfer the money for the camera to you, then.”

“Mn.”

The conversation should have ended there, but Dou Sheng didn’t leave. He leaned against the doorframe. “Got jet lag? There are textbooks in the drawer. If you aren’t sleeping, you might be able to salvage the situation.”

Xie Lan instinctively replied, “I’m fine.”

Dou Sheng chuckled. “Whatever, read them or don’t. Just a friendly reminder, since you look like you care a lot about the exam.”

He turned to leave, but then looked back. “The lo mein was terrible, right? Only Ms. Zhao Wenying likes eating that stuff.”

Xie Lan: “?”

He indeed wasn’t used to it, but if he remembered correctly, this guy had eaten three bowls.

The guy full of lies didn’t even blink as he pried open the plastic box.

“Dirty Bun. Want one?”

Xie Lan paused. “What bun?”

Dou Sheng scoffed, pinched one of the pastries, and placed the box on the nightstand. “I’ll share one with you. Happy Birthday. Wishing you peace and health year after year.”

Dragging his slippers, he returned to the room next door and kicked the door shut again.

The sign Zhao Wenying had flipped over flipped back again, returning to: “Business Closed for the Day.”

Xie Lan stared at the sign for a while before closing his door.

The phone was the previous model, top specs, and in pristine condition. It seemed a waste to retire it.

Data synchronization was estimated to take an hour and a half. He set the phone aside, his gaze falling on the plastic box.

Layers of cocoa powder and chocolate sauce were stacked high, looking incredibly tempting under the light—completely outshining the deluxe lo mein from dinner.

He had moved in, accepted the phone; there was no point in being awkward now.

He pulled out a tissue to hold the bread and took it out.

The chocolate was indeed rich—bittersweet, dense, and filling.

Xie Lan stared at the progress bar, unknowingly finishing the bread. He wiped the crumbs off the table and decided to take a shower first.

As soon as he turned on the bathroom light, the mirror reflected a handsome face that looked like a scribbled mess.

“Oh my…”

His mouth was completely black.

“…”

Xie Lan stared blankly, pursing his lips tightly in the mirror.

At 1:00 AM, the phone finally restored data from the cloud. Xie Lan set the system language to Chinese, downloaded WeChat, and registered an account.

He pondered over a nickname for a long time. Initially, he wrote Renaissance, but after checking a dictionary, he changed it to the Chinese characters “Wényì Fùxīng”.

Avatar: None.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated.

A small red ‘1’ lit up on the chat list.

— “RJJSD” from “People Nearby” sent you a greeting: “Dou Sheng.”

He didn’t recognize the first five letters, but the avatar was a bean. Since Zhao Wenying seemed to call Dou Sheng that, it had to be the guy next door.

Wasn’t business closed for the day?

You are now friends. Start chatting!

The chat box was dead silent. Neither side spoke, and it remained dead silent for ten minutes.

Xie Lan casually clicked into his Moments. The content was set to “Visible for the last 3 days,” and it was empty. The background image was a low-angle shot of a plane tree, with a two-word signature below it:

“Not giving.”

Xie Lan looked at it for a moment before clicking out. The chat box was still blank.

Really closed for business?

He thought for a moment, followed the prompts to link his card, found the transfer function, and tried sending 3,999 yuan.

The little orange envelope existed for only two seconds before being swiftly covered by a gray filter.

It displayed: “Received.”

“…”

It seemed business was closed, but the finance department was still online.

The next day, a massive piece of gossip hit the main building of Yingzhong High School, Class 2-4.

Che Ziming rushed into the classroom with smoke trailing behind his butt. One shout silenced the class, who were chattering while rearranging desks for the exam.

“A handsome guy went into Hu Xiujie’s office with Dou Sheng!”

The class fell silent for a moment, then exploded. “What handsome guy?”

“With Dou Sheng?”

“Did they run into each other, or were they arm-in-arm?”

Che Ziming spread his hands. “No arm-in-arm, they kept some distance, but it didn’t look like an accidental meeting, you know?”

The crowd nodded vigorously.

Che Ziming pushed past the students in the aisle and trotted up to the study commissary, Dai You. “Did Douzi reveal anything? Did he get into a fight with someone?”

Dai You, the study commissary, was tall and thin, wearing silver-rimmed glasses. A row of bottled coffees sat on his desk.

“He didn’t say.”

“Ah, this—”

The boy sitting behind Dai You glanced at Che Ziming with drooping eyelids. “You still have the heart to gossip? Papers are being handed out in ten minutes, and you haven’t moved your desk.”

“Coming.” Che Ziming pulled the small desk beside him outward by half a meter. After moving it, he couldn’t resist looking back toward the rear door, raising an eyebrow. “Dou Sheng is here—wait, the handsome guy is here too!”

The entire class whipped their heads around, forty-plus pairs of eyes sweeping straight out the door.

Xie Lan, standing at the back door of the classroom, suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He turned around to face forty owls staring him down with death glares.

His legs nearly gave out.

The Year 2 Head of Discipline was named Hu Xiujie. She had a stern expression, a cold tone, and her clothes and hair were meticulously groomed. She radiated a difficult aura that people of both Eastern and Western cultures could instinctively perceive.

She cleared her throat at the back door. Forty-plus pairs of eyes instantly snapped back, spines straightened, eyes front.

Xie Lan thought he heard a low laugh from Dou Sheng’s throat beside him.

He looked back, but Dou Sheng looked indifferent, meeting his gaze as if nothing had happened.

“I’ve explained the basic situation to you,” Hu Xiujie said. “Today is the placement exam. Dou Sheng told you, right?”

Xie Lan nodded.

“The school doesn’t know your level yet. There should be a big difference between the UK and here. This exam is for placement, aiming to separate the tiers, so the intensity is quite high. Just do your best.” Hu Xiujie continued, “Results will be out in about three days. Even if you go to another class later, three days is enough to get familiar with the environment.”

Xie Lan understood part of it and nodded again.

Hu Xiujie pointed to the last row by the window. It was the only pair of desks in the room still touching, not yet separated according to exam requirements.

“You sit there with Dou Sheng for now. Pull the desks apart and get ready for the exam.”

Xie Lan walked into the classroom from the front door, forty-plus pairs of eyes following him.

Someone whispered, sounds like “Little unlucky guy, exam right upon arrival” and “Why come directly to Class 4?”

He pretended not to hear and passed behind the podium. Dou Sheng walked lazily in front of him.

Passing the second-to-last row, a boy on the left stopped Dou Sheng. “What’s the situation?”

Dou Sheng didn’t answer. He pulled the desk by the aisle out half a meter and sat in the inner seat himself. “Quiet down for the exam.”

That boy didn’t give up and craned his neck toward Xie Lan. “Handsome guy, what’s your name?”

“Xie Lan.”

“Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Che Ziming. Where are you from?”

A boy who looked rather unhappy turned and glared at him. “If you want to get chewed out by Hu Xiujie, don’t drag the new student down with you.”

“Oh. I was just curious.” The guy rubbed his nose and shrank back.

Hu Xiujie wrote the time for the first exam on the blackboard: 7:30 – 10:00. Then, she split a stack of papers into six piles and passed them down row by row.

When the paper reached Xie Lan, it was exactly the last copy. The first page was almost two full pages of text, consisting of three articles, each followed by three multiple-choice or written questions.

Xie Lan scanned it roughly. He recognized more characters than he expected—probably over half. But the questions were extremely convoluted. It wasn’t just that they were hard to understand; he simply had no idea how to answer them.

His virtue was composure. He flipped to the next page.

The reading material on the second page was much shorter, just a few lines. Unfortunately, it was Classical Chinese.

Further back: Poetry fill-in-the-blanks. Skip, skip, skip.

A wise man submits to circumstances. He quickly recognized his predicament and flipped directly to the last page, planning to scrounge some points through the essay.

In China, it wasn’t called an essay; it was called Zuo Wen (Composition).

Prompt—

Mozi said: “View others’ states as you view your own state; view others’ families as you view your own family; view others’ bodies as you view your own body.”

British poet John Donne said: “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.”

Requirement: Combine the materials to write an argumentative essay. Determine your own stance. No fewer than 800 words.

Xie Lan stared at the lines of text in silence for a full minute.

Then, he slowly uncapped his pen and circled the only half-sentence in the material where he recognized all the characters and could somewhat understand the meaning—

“No man is an island.”

Mn.

But why?

How is a man not an island?

Suddenly, a voice beside him spoke in a low, leisurely drawl:

“You can copy the reading passage onto the essay paper.”