Early the next morning, the doctor at the community clinic was plunged into confusion the moment she started her shift.

She stared in prolonged silence at an arm that had no redness, no swelling, no open wounds, and only a few bruises.

Then she grabbed the information placard on the desk and looked at it again: Orthopedics.

“So—” she said in disbelief, “you want me to immobilize this arm?”

Xie Lan was speechless and shot a cold look at Dou Sheng.

Dou Sheng looked calm. “Mn. We rely on our hands to eat. Although the bones aren’t injured for now, it’s better to reinforce it to prevent deterioration.”

“…”

Xie Lan couldn’t help but facepalm.

The doctor coldly slapped the prescription pad in front of Dou Sheng. “This injury doesn’t need immobilization. Go to the front desk and buy two patches of Sanqi (Panax notoginseng) plaster.”

Hearing this, Xie Lan said “thank you” as if relieved of a heavy burden, but just as he stood up, he was pressed back down by Dou Sheng.

“Peeling off plasters hurts. Can we use dressing and wrap it in thick bandages instead?”

The doctor’s gaze began to lose focus.

Dou Sheng sighed sincerely. “Please, I’m begging you. This hand is really afraid of secondary injury.”

“…”

Perhaps the psychological attack was too powerful; after a moment of silence, the doctor actually stood up to get the bandages.

Dou Sheng blinked at Xie Lan. “I told you, doctors at private clinics are easier to talk to.”

Xie Lan looked expressionless. “Is this really necessary? We aren’t staying at Chen Ge’s house tonight.”

“It’s safer to bundle it up tight. That’s a violin-playing hand,” Dou Sheng said with a face full of self-righteousness.

“…Fine.” Xie Lan sighed helplessly.

The last person to make a fuss over a small injury on his hand was his mother, but Dou Sheng was even more exaggerated than her.

The doctor brought a pack of dressing and several rolls of bandages to wrap Xie Lan’s arm. Xie Lan watched for a while, then the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated.

Guo Ruize had pulled him into a group chat named “The Attached-Vengers Alliance” (Fu-vengers). The vibration was caused by a screen-flooding spam of stickers in the group—composed of seven bright red characters: Attached High Students Love Math.

Xie Lan hesitated for a moment, then typed a question mark: ?

[Attached High Rank 1 Guo Ruize]: Welcome, Boss Xie Lan, to the group. We will meet at the provincial training camp soon. To commemorate this great moment and to wipe away the shame of you looking down on our school teachers’ questions before, we established this “Attached-Vengers Alliance.” We invited teachers to create three top-tier difficulty competition problems. Please arrive at the classroom half an hour early for a hot-blooded battle!

Xie Lan read the text for three minutes, then slowly replied: ?

[Attached High Rank 2 Xu Fei]: Once upon a time, our school teachers were ravaged by the test paper just because the question stems were too long. How can we forget such humiliation! Don’t think you can muddle through with the excuse of bad Chinese. Our class sports representative will post the three questions in the group soon. Come and fight!

“It’s wrapped.”

The doctor cut the bandage with scissors, patted Xie Lan’s rock-hard arm, and said expressionlessly, “You guys can go.”

Xie Lan was silent for a moment. He looked at the paragraphs of war challenges scrolling in the group chat, then looked at his securely bound arm.

After a long time, he put away his phone, clumsily put down his left arm, and lifted his right arm onto the table.

Doctor: “?”

Xie Lan: “Could you please bind this arm too? Thank you.”

Coming out of the community clinic, Xie Lan held up two zombie arms and let Dou Sheng take a picture of him to send to the Attached-Vengers Alliance.

[Renaissance]: * The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Sorry.*

—@Renaissance has left the group chat—

Dou Sheng laughed out loud. “You are too ‘society’ (street-smart/gangster).”

“Society?”

“I’m praising you.” Dou Sheng walked past the entrance of the experimental building, smiling as he reached up to pluck a low-hanging leaf. “Average people, without at least ten years of experience in society, can’t reach your level of cleverness.”

“Is that so?” Xie Lan digested this for a moment, then said indifferently, “You flatter me.”

The provincial training camp was held in a small classroom in the experimental building of English High, from 8 AM to 8 PM. Today was the first day of camp, and students from all schools arrived early to claim seats. As soon as Xie Lan entered, he exchanged glances with more than twenty elites waiting in full battle array.

In the classroom, schools had staked out their territories like gangs. Even though there weren’t many people, they insisted on wearing school uniforms to show off their lineup.

Only in the back corner by the window was there a scattering of loose sand. Xie Lan was confusedly looking for the English High section when someone rose from the loose sand.

Che Ziming waved. “Here!”

Oh.

The main force of the English High competition team had slept at someone else’s house last night. Two of them had even slept on the floor. Everyone was leaning crookedly from exhaustion, looking completely devoid of fighting spirit to the students from other schools. They had waited anxiously for the city’s number one and number two to arrive, only to see the city’s number one with both arms bound in bandages, carrying a heavy aura of the triad, while the other carried a huge bag of snacks, looking like he was here for a spring outing.

Under the gaze of the crowd, Xie Lan walked calmly to the back row. When he turned around, he found Guo Ruize staring at him with wide eyes.

So, he calmly raised two snow-white arms.

Guo Ruize: “Heh heh.”

The knowledge points to be covered in the morning were on the desk. Xie Lan sat down, eating breakfast while scanning the points and example problems. Dou Sheng asked, “How does it feel?”

“It’s okay.”

“Any example problems seem hard?”

Xie Lan flipped back to the previous page. “The fourth one will probably take a while to deduce. You?”

Dou Sheng smiled with relaxed brows. “I can’t do two of them, and I’m unsure about one. I’ll listen to the teacher later.”

He sighed and lamented, “Second Cat is so amazing. If I don’t understand later, can you give me one-on-one tutoring when we get home?”

“…” Xie Lan lost his expression. “Guess.”

The teacher rotating in today was from Attached High, a man in his forties wearing glasses.

“Hello everyone, today is the first regular training of the provincial camp. I am the coach for the first three weeks, from the Attached High math group, surnamed Liang.”

“I’m glad to see everyone here. For the first three weeks, we will focus on plane geometry and solid geometry. I have the papers from the last city-wide classification exam. I have organized homework tailored to everyone’s weak points in geometry; come find me to pick it up before you leave tonight. During the day, we will focus on the complex applications of Menelaus’ theorem.”

The students below opened their notebooks while listening, but after introducing the situation, Teacher Liang changed the subject. “Before the lecture, let me get to know everyone. I know the ones from Attached High well, and I’ve seen the files for No. 3 and No. 9 High during proctoring rotations. Today, I mainly want to get to know the students from English High.”

He paused, looking up at the back row. “Which one is Student Xie Lan?”

Faintly, Xie Lan saw a burning intensity behind those spectacle lenses.

The people in front turned their heads to look at him one by one. Silence. Seriousness. Suffocation.

Xie Lan had to speak up. “It’s me.”

“Good.” Teacher Liang smiled. “So you’re that elite student who only left blank the one question he couldn’t understand. Pleasure to meet you.”

Whether it was an illusion or not, Xie Lan felt the words “couldn’t understand” were emphasized very heavily.

He had to force a smile. “Sorry, Teacher, I really don’t know many characters.”

The small classroom was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly erupted in laughter.

The few from Attached High laughed particularly happily. Guo Ruize laid his head on the back table, laughing at the ceiling, looking like he wanted to cough up his stomach.

Sigh. Xie Lan sighed.

Teacher Liang laughed too. “Alright, your Teacher Ma looked out for you. A returnee, right? Don’t worry, I won’t wear small shoes on you.”

Xie Lan glanced at Dou Sheng, whose shoulders were twitching with laughter beside him.

Dou Sheng leaned over and whispered a translation, “‘Wearing small shoes’ means making things difficult for you.”

Oh.

Xie Lan had to say thanks. “Then, thank you.”

Amidst the laughter, Teacher Liang quickly got to know the other students, then rapidly organized everyone to calm down and started the lecture.

The teachers at the provincial camp didn’t just teach fast; they touched on knowledge points briefly and focused on problem-type expansion. Old Ma usually taught this way too, but Old Ma spoke with cadence, so Xie Lan could keep up. This Teacher Liang spoke at flying speed, his blackboard writing flew along with him, and the tap-tap-tap of the chalk made one’s brain ache. After forcing himself to follow the progress for a while, Xie Lan began to feel carsick.

Chinese was really hard. He sighed, his gaze passing over Dou Sheng to look out the window.

It had started raining again. The rain lines were very thin and silent; you had to stare carefully out the window to distinguish them.

The plane tree (Wutong) drooping by the window had its leaves trembling gently from the rain. Xie Lan started to zone out staring at those leaves. For a while, he thought about the heavy rain all last night, thought about Dou Sheng’s past, and thought about the sentence with unclear meaning Dou Sheng said last night. Then he thought about the continuous temperature drop these days and wondered if the plane trees would bloom this year since he had agreed to record a video with Dou Sheng.

Dou Sheng looked up at him, curled the corners of his lips without making a sound, and continued listening to the class. After a while, he gently bumped Xie Lan’s arm.

“Fourth question,” Dou Sheng whispered.

Xie Lan gave an “oh,” snapped back to reality, and continued trying to keep up.

The intensity of the provincial camp was about what was expected. Some problems were quite challenging. Although Xie Lan struggled with listening, he felt he gained something overall.

The rain didn’t stop during the lunch break. Dou Sheng went out to pick up takeout, and Xie Lan lay on the table scrolling through his phone. After a while, he suddenly felt a tickle on the top of his head, as if a small stick was poking through his hair.

Xie Lan looked up, and a phone was extended in front of his eyes, showing the selfie camera page—on the screen, a palm-sized “umbrella” stood on top of his head.

The umbrella was made of several plane tree leaves folded together. The umbrella frame was the leaf stems, twisted into a single strand at the top and secured with a toothpick tip. The umbrella handle was a complete toothpick running down. The veins of the plane tree leaves were clear. Dou Sheng held the handle with two fingers over Xie Lan’s head and gave it a gentle twist. The small umbrella spun lightly, the leaf veins looking like surging waves.

Click. Dou Sheng pressed the shutter, capturing Xie Lan’s dazed expression in the lens.

Xie Lan stared blankly for a long time before asking in disbelief, “You made this yourself?”

“Just a little trinket.” Dou Sheng smiled nonchalantly and handed him the leaf umbrella. “I messed around and figured out how to make it in middle school. Giving it to you to shelter from the rain.”

Xie Lan gently twirled the toothpick handle—the plane leaves must have been freshly picked. Although the rainwater had been wiped off, they still felt damp to the touch, truly like an umbrella that had just sheltered someone from the rain.

For a moment, he didn’t know where to put this delicate little gadget, afraid of crushing it.

“Just stuff it in your pencil case. Plane leaves are tough, especially after being rained on; they won’t fall apart easily.” Dou Sheng smiled. “It’s fine if it breaks, my craftsmanship is still here. In April, the leaf umbrellas are light green. In June and July, I can fold oil-green ones, and in autumn, I can fold yellow ones.”

Xie Lan’s heart suddenly stirred, a feeling he couldn’t describe.

The rain outside the window was still pattering. He stared at the curtain of rain, lost in thought.

He had almost forgotten; this was only his first spring and summer back in the country. There were still long seasons ahead.

Dou Sheng laughed low. “After folding the autumn umbrellas, two months later it’ll be the end of the year.”

Xie Lan came back to his senses and looked at him. “What happens at the end of the year?”

“Selecting the new year’s Top 100 Content Creators (Bai Da).” A bright smile welled up in Dou Sheng’s brows and eyes. “This year, I definitely have to get it.”

“Definitely.” Xie Lan nodded subconsciously. “By the way, is the topic for the new activity out?”

“It’s out.” Dou Sheng casually poked open Bilibili to show him.

—April Call for Submissions: #Taste That Strikes the Soul#

Xie Lan savored it. “Food category?”

Dou Sheng gave a faint smile and hummed. “Yes, but I need to think of a way to film it with national characteristics and occupy the high ground of cultural connotation.”

Hearing this, Xie Lan immediately nodded. “You’re right. It needs to reflect the broad and profound Chinese culture.”

After the lunch break, Teacher Liang lowered the projector screen.

“Rapid fire solving and review in class,” he said. “Thirty seconds to read each question, then I’ll call someone up to explain their thought process.”

“Thirty seconds?” The elites turned pale with shock. “We can’t even finish looking at the diagram!”

Teacher Liang smiled inscrutably. “Then hurry up and look, be careful or I’ll call on you.”

Elites: “!”

Xie Lan was sleepy after the meal. He tried hard to prop himself up and looked at the question appearing on the projector.

The diagram was composed of N polygons spliced and cut in a very complex way. Prove that the product of the ratios of three line segments equals 1.

The people below were blank. Che Ziming poked Dai You. “Need to draw auxiliary lines for this, right?”

Dai You put on his thin-rimmed glasses and hummed. “Definitely need to connect them, but I have no idea how.”

Yu Fei also frowned. “This diagram is so messy.”

Teacher Liang scanned the audience. “Xie Lan, come up and gesture a bit.”

Guo Ruize spoke up from below. “Teacher, his arms are broken.”

Teacher Liang raised an eyebrow. “Which arm is broken?”

Guo Ruize: “Both arms are broken. Look, bundled up like a mummy.”

The classroom started laughing again. Xie Lan looked at Teacher Liang speechlessly, and Teacher Liang looked back at him unmoved.

After a stalemate of a few seconds, Xie Lan sighed and stood up. “Then I’ll try.”

The gazes of those around him followed him from the back row all the way to the projector. Xie Lan took the remote mouse and raised his right hand, which was bundled like a sticky rice dumpling (zongzi).

A thick, clumsy shadow appeared on the projector.

This bandage was wrapped so tight his arm was losing blood circulation, seriously affecting his sensitivity. His hand trembled in the air for a long time before finally positioning the small red dot on the desired point O, drawing a shaky line down, barely landing on point B.

Xie Lan leaned two small steps closer to the projection, afraid he wouldn’t connect it accurately, so he narrated the process while drawing.

“Connect OB, PA, construct two vertex-sharing triangles. Then with O as the center and OD as the radius, draw a circle. The circle passes through BD, it’s a trisection point, assume this point is X, finally connect triangle DXB.”

Xie Lan’s clumsy hand drew crooked lines one by one on the diagram, making a mess of it.

He sighed. “Triangle DXB is the key triangle for this problem. Next, according to the Menelaus… uh, Mei, Mei Niu… that we’ve been practicing all morning…”

There was silence below. Guo Ruize’s voice trembled: “Menelaus’ theorem!”

“Right.” Xie Lan was relieved. “With this theorem, it is evidently proven.”

The small classroom was frighteningly quiet.

Xie Lan put down his hand and slowly placed the remote mouse back on the lectern.

?

Did they not follow?

Unknown who started it, but suddenly someone clapped twice, and then everyone started clapping continuously. Guo Ruize covered his mouth and mumbled vaguely, “The Attached-Vengers Alliance has been defeated, ow.”

“How did the boss think of drawing a circle?”

“It is indeed evidently proven, but the problem is these auxiliary lines are too wild, right?”

“I would call it divine workmanship (ghost axe, god work)!”

“I would call it fate playing tricks on us!”

“Wouldn’t just taking the trisection point work? Why draw a circle?”

Che Ziming slammed the table and stood up. “Friends of No. 9 High, the key isn’t the trisection point, it’s the intersection of the circle and BD. Which trisection it intersects at isn’t important, what’s important is finding this point. This point is THE KEY——!!”

Xie Lan stood expressionlessly on the stage, numb from disgust at his mix of Chinese and English.

It took a long time for the classroom to quiet down. Teacher Liang sighed. “There are methods without drawing a circle, but they are much more complex than drawing a circle… This circle is indeed blindingly brilliant… How did you think of it?”

“Just…” Xie Lan was stunned by the question.

Connecting auxiliary lines, isn’t that purely based on intuition?

He looked back at the projection blankly, trying to summarize a train of thought.

“Forget it, forget it.” Teacher Liang waved his hand. “Go back. Mathematical thinking is something where you either have it or you don’t.”

Guo Ruize whispered below, “No cursing.”

Teacher Liang said, “Everyone note down this solution first. In half a minute, I’ll switch to the standard answer.”

The class quieted down, and everyone lowered their heads to take notes. Xie Lan walked down the stage quietly. Passing Teacher Liang, the teacher gave him a thumbs up.

“Your Old Ma really fished up a treasure,” he sighed in a low voice.

Finally enduring until class ended at 8 PM, Xie Lan’s legs were numb from sitting.

The rain had stopped outside. The humid air was fresh; taking a deep breath into the bottom of his lungs made him feel much refreshed.

It wasn’t until he was in the car going home that Xie Lan took out his phone and casually clicked on Dou Sheng’s Weibo.

He froze.

“What did you post?!”

Little Ma, who was driving, peeked at them through the rearview mirror.

Dou Sheng laughed. “Awed by your heroic posture solving the problem, I couldn’t help but shoot a small video to broaden everyone’s horizons.”

The video was secretly filmed by Dou Sheng, the camera just peeking over the desktop, filming from a low angle. In the short thirty seconds, Xie Lan looked calm, raising his mummy-like arm, clumsily but composedly connecting auxiliary lines.

Contrasting with his calmness were the backs of more than twenty heads below, trembling slightly in the silence.

Video Title — <A battle-damaged violinist who can’t solve competition problems isn’t a good cat>

Xie Lan: “…”

Why can’t he understand this title?

There were already over a thousand comments below.

– New Lan Zai content to inhale, really nice.

– What happened to Lan Zai’s hand!

– Battle-damaged?!

– Don’t panic, read the text. Didn’t Bean say it was a prank?

– Fck, connecting those auxiliary lines was so handsome!*

– As a competition student, my blood is boiling and I’m levitating!

– Dammit, why didn’t Bean post it on Bilibili to help Lan Zai gain followers!

– Didn’t you see it was Bean secretly filming? lol

Xie Lan said speechlessly, “You are very free during class.”

“So-so.” Dou Sheng scrolled through the comments with satisfaction. “At the same time you instantly came up with that god-tier solution, I also instantly came up with the clumsy standard answer solution, so I had time to record you.”

Xie Lan held back an eye roll. “Have you thought about how to film the next video?”

Dou Sheng hummed cheerfully.

“You already have an idea?” Xie Lan suddenly got energized. “What format do you plan to use? Mukbang? ASMR? Or cooking?”

“Those are all too ordinary.” Dou Sheng yawned carelessly, resting his elbow on the car window. “To do it, we must do it the best. It must reflect a lofty national style and also produce top-tier entertainment effects.”

Xie Lan was moved upon hearing this.

“Having this kind of ambition is already half the success.” He nodded sincerely and patted Dou Sheng’s leg. “Top 100, definitely this year!”

8 PM on a weekend was peak traffic time. There was a jam on the road, and it was past nine when they got home. As soon as Xie Lan entered the house, he found scissors to cut off the bandages, finally liberating his arms.

Only when he turned around did he realize Dou Sheng hadn’t followed him in but was standing outside opening a package.

A large cardboard box. Dou Sheng asked Little Ma while opening it, “My mom isn’t back yet?”

Little Ma said, “President Zhao has an urgent business deal to negotiate. She’ll be back Wednesday. What’s up?”

Dou Sheng gave an “oh.” “Nothing. I need her help finding someone when she gets back.”

As he spoke, he slit the tape, opened the box, and scooped up the things inside with a rustle.

Standing on the stairs, Xie Lan looked back again. They were yellow bags, probably food, but he didn’t know what kind.

Dou Sheng passed by, and Xie Lan saw the name.

Three characters. He didn’t recognize the first one, then Da Wang (Big King).

Xie Lan was confused. “What is this?”

“Luo Da Wang (Snail King),” Dou Sheng said. “Just a little snack, you haven’t eaten it.”

“Oh.”

The name was a bit earthy (uncool). Xie Lan couldn’t muster any interest. “I’m going to wash up and sleep. I’m a bit tired.”

“Mn, mn.” Dou Sheng went straight into his own room without looking back. Just as his foot was about to kick backward, he paused, hooked the door back with his toe, and turned to warn, “Be careful washing up, don’t fall on your hand.”

“Got it.” Xie Lan went back to his room yawning.

He was too sleepy. He tossed and turned all last night and sat all day today; he was numb with exhaustion.

The injury on his arm didn’t hurt anymore, leaving only a bit of white swelling. He seriously suspected it was caused by the bandages stifling it.

Xie Lan showered and collapsed onto the bed. He had intended to watch the Weibo video Dou Sheng secretly filmed, but he fell asleep before he could even tap on it.

When people are very tired, they sleep very deeply.

In his grogginess, unaware of how much time had passed, he seemed to dream of Dou Sheng again. But this dream had no visuals, only sound. Dou Sheng seemed to be deliberately suppressing his voice, speaking in a whisper.

“He’s asleep now… He was especially tired today, sleeping very soundly. We are starting the challenge.”

“Can you see it? I’ll raise the bowl higher.”

“Don’t laugh in the comments. This is Guangxi intangible cultural heritage. The theme of our test today is: exactly how great is the summoning power of the ancestral bloodline for overseas wanderers? Can Luosifen (River Snail Rice Noodles) wake him from his dream?”

“Okay, I’m ready to lift the lid.”

What is this messy nonsense.

Xie Lan turned over impatiently, wanting to pinch off this dream that had just sprouted.

It worked; the talking stopped.

Just as he was about to continue sleeping peacefully, his nose suddenly twitched.

What is that smell…

…

What is that smell???

Sour but not quite, stinky but not quite, its presence was extremely strong, like something had been covered for a long time and then underwent some indescribable chemical reaction…

The smell got stronger and stronger, more and more pungent. Xie Lan pondered with his eyes closed for a moment, then suddenly realized something was wrong.

Could it be my arm?!

A familiar sigh suddenly came from behind, and a low voice said, “Still not waking up? Poor little thing, exhausted.”

Xie Lan whipped his head around and opened his eyes, only to see a figure sitting on his bed in the darkness, with a small ring light at a weird angle next to him.

“Oh my…”

Before his heart moved, his foot was already far away. Before Xie Lan could react, he instinctively kicked the person sitting on his bed with their back to him.

CLANG! A large bowl filled to the brim with bizarre “rice noodles” flew off the small folding stool Dou Sheng had set up by the bed. Dou Sheng fell from the bed to the floor. A bowl of soup dripped and spread along the floor. He moved sideways with incredible agility, preventing the soup from soaking his pajamas.

Xie Lan’s heart beat like thunder. He was shocked: “What are you doing?! In the middle of the night!”

Dou Sheng seemed to have pulled a muscle somewhere, hissing as he rescued the camera from the floor.

Facing the camera, his expression was painful for two seconds, then he suddenly burst into wild laughter.

Laughing and coughing, he said, “Intangible cultural heritage successfully awakened the Chinese bloodline. Time elapsed: 1 minute 19 seconds. Everyone, I’m turning off the camera first, my ankle hurts so bad. If you still like this video, don’t forget to repost, comment, and send lots of bullet comments. And most importantly, ‘one-click three-combo’ (Like/Coin/Fav). See you next time, bye-bye~”

“………………”

Xie Lan silently lifted the quilt.

Tonight, between him and Dou Sheng, one must die.

__

Author’s Note:

The entire egg house is in chaos.

Lazy Egg chases Bean Egg: You dare crack melon seeds on my little bed? Don’t run if you have the guts!

Bean Egg looks back leisurely, running backward: Can’t catch me, can’t catch me.

Lazy Egg pants: If you run again! Run again and we’re splitting the nest!

Huh?

Bean Egg brakes suddenly.

Splitting the nest won’t do. It panics: Okay fine, let you hit me once.

Gently, it adds uncontrollably: You promised to give me lots of eggy love, you are so heartless.