On the day they had just moved in, Song Cheng heard a clatter coming from upstairs. Mom Song said, “They must be renovating up there. I wonder who’s moving in. When I went downstairs to throw out the trash just now, I ran into a huge truck pulling right up beneath our building. Goodness, the furniture on it looked so expensive—and like nothing I’ve ever seen in a store. They must be very wealthy. I wonder if they’re easy to get along with. Still, they were very polite. When they saw me waiting for the elevator alone, they let me go first.”
“That agent said everyone in this complex was well-mannered,” Song Cheng said. “They’re probably not hard to get along with. Why don’t you make some dumplings tonight and use them to get to know the neighbors? Mom Song isn’t much of a cook, but Grandma taught her how to make dumplings.”
“You’re right. We should at least introduce ourselves. Then if anything happens, we can look out for each other.” Mom Song had been thinking that it wasn’t convenient to buy groceries around here, so she’d bought a large, side-by-side refrigerator. Fortunately, the kitchen was spacious enough.
Carrying a food container, Mom Song gently knocked on the door of the other apartment on the sixth floor. She knocked for a long time, but no one answered. When she came back, she said, “Do you think no one’s moved in across the hall yet? We made such a racket moving in. If anyone lived there, they would’ve come out to say hello.”
Song Cheng looked toward the other side from the balcony. There was nothing on the balcony; it looked as if no one lived there.
After thinking it over, Mom Song took another food container and went straight up to the seventh floor. When she reached it, she found furniture and appliances scattered all over the hallway. There was even some exercise equipment. Both apartment doors were open, and the sound of banging came from inside. A middle-aged man heard the elevator and, seeing her, looked surprised. “May I ask who you’re looking for, ma’am?”
Mom Song came to her senses at the sound of his voice. “Oh, I live on the sixth floor. We just moved in today, and I happened to make some dumplings this afternoon, so I thought I’d bring you some. I can see you’re busy right now, though. Here are the dumplings…” Mom Song wasn’t sure whether she should leave them or not. They seemed to have their hands full.
The middle-aged man must have noticed her awkwardness. He took both containers from her with a smile and thanked her. “Thank you for the dumplings. I’m afraid I can’t chat with you today, but once we’ve got everything sorted out, I’ll invite you over.” He hurried back into the apartment. When he came out, both containers were filled with cherry tomatoes. He handed them back to Mom Song. “Just a little something in return. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mom Song returned home in a daze. Seeing her come back with two containers of cherry tomatoes, Song Cheng asked, “They gave you something in return? What kind of people are they?”
Mom Song snapped out of it and told her what had happened. “I knew the people upstairs were rich, but I never imagined they’d be so extravagant as to join two apartments together. And that middle-aged man seemed like some kind of housekeeper. I’m starting to regret going up to say hello. What if they don’t eat food from people they don’t know and throw the dumplings away? Then all my effort would’ve been for nothing,” she said ruefully.
Song Cheng looked at the cherry tomatoes in the containers. Every one was plump, and they were all different sizes; their skins were completely unblemished. She remembered reading an article about fruit online. Some people built greenhouses that recreated the exact conditions of a fruit’s natural growing environment in order to grow top-quality produce. The fruit they grew looked much like these tomatoes.
“It’ll be fine,” Song Cheng told her mother. “You said they were very polite. They accepted your gift and gave something in return, so they must have appreciated it. Even if the owners don’t eat them, they can give them to someone else. What matters most is that we showed our good intentions.”
Mom Song nodded and stopped worrying about it.
Song Cheng hadn’t been wrong. Uncle Zhang took the dumplings straight back to Gu Residence, where Professor Gu and Fang Muhan were sitting on the sofa playing chess.
“Shunping, have you been to Huanjing Garden again?” Professor Gu asked.
“I didn’t have anything else to do. I think we’ll be able to move in in another two days. They’re doing the final cleaning now,” Uncle Zhang replied. He paused, then added, “The family who bought the apartment downstairs moved in today. They even brought us dumplings.”
“Is that the sixth-floor apartment Xiaohan couldn’t buy? They moved in so soon?”
“I heard their child just started at No. 1 High School, so they bought a place closer to the school.”
Professor Gu glanced at his grandson’s expressionless face and complained, “What were you thinking, making such a fuss and joining up the entire seventh floor? If the people on the sixth floor hadn’t acted so quickly, were you going to connect the sixth and seventh floors too? Do you really need that much space to live alone? What a waste of effort.”
“It’s quieter. I don’t want to be disturbed,” Fang Muhan said.
Thinking of the daughter of one of his old partner’s students who had recently come to see his grandson, Professor Gu’s confidence faltered. “Then why not just live in a villa?”
Fang Muhan looked at Professor Gu. “To quote your daughter, Ms. Gu, she wants me to learn to take care of myself and experience an ordinary high-school life.”
Professor Gu tossed down the chess piece in his hand and snapped at his grandson, “With your mother’s temperament? She won’t wear anything but designer labels, and a car with a chauffeur takes her everywhere. I raised her like an ordinary girl, and she still didn’t turn out the way I wanted. If anything, she got more and more spoiled. And she has the nerve to talk about teaching you to take care of yourself. Hmph.”
Fang Muhan looked at the remaining pieces on the board. He’d known it would come to this.
Professor Gu’s full name was Gu Yaoguo. He was a doctoral adviser at the Academy of Humanities and Social Sciences and the School of Physics, and he had two daughters: the elder, Gu Mei, and the younger, Gu Wei. Professor Gu and his wife had always been devoted to raising their daughters to become scientists. Who could have guessed that after graduating from Hua University, their elder daughter would marry into a wealthy family and go off to study the lives of the upper class? The younger daughter took things a step further: she got pregnant before marriage and went abroad to study, only returning in recent years. When what happened to Gu Wei came to light, Professor Gu was so furious he fell ill, and he threw both daughters out of the house. Over the years, though, with the births of his three grandchildren, he had gradually let go of what happened.
There were two reasons Fang Muhan had transferred to a school in the city. Ms. Gu wanted her son to keep the old couple company, and Fang Muhan was also preparing to take the city’s entrance exam. Gu Mei had always wanted Professor Gu and his wife to move to the Imperial Capital, but the old couple were used to living in the city. They had friends there, and their former students still came to visit from time to time, so things were lively. But last year, after Fang Muhan’s maternal grandmother fell ill and was hospitalized, Gu Mei only found out once she had recovered. That was why she sent Fang Muhan to attend high school there, so he could return to the Imperial Capital to take the gaokao.
Fang Corporation was still headed by Fang Muhan’s father, Fang Zhaoming, but the company’s main businesses in City B were already in the hands of Fang Muhan’s eldest brother, Fang Mingji. Fang Mingji was seven years older than him. He had never treated his younger brother like an ordinary child, even though Fang Muhan had been studying the dynamic physical changes in metals with their maternal grandfather since kindergarten. While Fang Muhan was in the city, Fang Mingji had him take the city’s entrance exam and squeeze in some time for school. Yes, squeeze it in. There was nothing to be done: geniuses didn’t think like ordinary people. Fang Mingji didn’t feel guilty about it at all.
Fang Muhan glanced at Uncle Zhang. Uncle Zhang and his wife had worked for the Gu family for nearly twenty years. One ran the family kitchen, and the other took care of the cleaning. Their child had fallen ill and died when young; after that, they never had another. All these years, they had treated the Gu family as their own. When Fang Muhan arrived, they were delighted and took care of him in every way. Uncle Zhang had supervised every step of the work on the Huanjing Garden apartment, worried that Second Young Master Fang might find it uncomfortable.
“Uncle Zhang, you should still get plenty of rest. Otherwise, your foot will start hurting again,” Fang Muhan said.
“It’s fine. I’ve been soaking my feet every day lately. Nothing’s wrong,” Uncle Zhang said with a smile.
Fang Muhan nodded and said no more. Uncle Zhang glanced at the bag of dumplings and took them straight home. It was better not to give the young master food from people whose background they didn’t know.
Lu Yaozhi was delighted when she heard Song Cheng had moved. She even came over to help clean, and, seeing the complex, kept saying she would ask her father to move house. Mom Song stayed with her daughter for two days. When she saw that Song Cheng had everything arranged and there was really nothing to worry about, she accompanied her to register and then went home. She couldn’t keep the shop closed for too long.
They picked up their military training uniforms, and training began the next day. The August sun was scorching. To avoid getting sunburned, Song Cheng spent a lot of points and energy on all kinds of sun-protective skincare products: lotions, serums, sprays, foundation, toners, and more. As System A55 put it, “You can’t rely on having good natural looks and then ruin them by neglecting yourself. You need to act like a beauty.”
Song Cheng and Lu Yaozhi were both assigned to Class 12. There were twelve classes in the first year of high school, with about fifty students in each. No. 1 High School took a simple, blunt approach and assigned its more than six hundred students to classes according to their scores. Classes 1 and 2 were the city’s key classes, which meant Classes 11 and 12 had lower-scoring students. Students in the key classes were under a lot of pressure because No. 1 High School reshuffled the rankings every term. Students in the lower classes were always watching the key-class students, hoping someone would fall so they could move up.
Military training was held on No. 1 High School’s field, and the instructors had been brought in from a nearby military district. Under the blazing sun, the field was packed with people, without a single patch of shade. Class 12 was in a corner to the northwest. Their instructor was a young man who looked much older than he really was, though he was only seventeen or eighteen. His surname was Li. When he got serious, he was like a demon. He started them off with half an hour standing at attention, and if anyone moved, the whole class had to add five minutes.
After they had trained for an hour, they stopped to rest. Since they were all in the same class, they quickly got to know each other. The girl beside Song Cheng had a round face and big eyes. When she smiled, her cheeks looked like two red apples.
The girl turned toward Song Cheng and said, “I’m Zhang Mingming. What’s your name? You’re so pretty! You’re not from the city center, are you? I’ve never seen you around before.”
“My name’s Song Cheng. Cheng, like the fruit,” Song Cheng replied. “I’m from Chengdong District.” Whenever she introduced herself, she usually explained the character in her name, because many people mistook it for the character in “city.”
Zhang Mingming said, “I knew it. With your looks, if you’d gone to one of the nearby schools, you’d already be famous.”
Song Cheng thought, “A few months ago, I wasn’t nearly this pretty.”
Song Cheng had changed a great deal compared with just two months earlier. Her parents saw her every day, so they didn’t notice; they just thought their daughter was growing into her looks. Over those two months, Song Cheng had grown to 165 centimeters. As time passed, the effects of gene optimization became more apparent: a full forehead, large bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and full pink lips. Even under her cap, she couldn’t hide her striking appearance, and people couldn’t help noticing her.
“I think you’ll definitely be the prettiest girl in our year. No—maybe even the Campus Belle.”
“Wow, your skin is so nice. What skincare products do you use? You don’t even have acne marks.”
“I’ve used so many expensive products, and none of them worked.”
“Let me tell you, when you first walked into the classroom, I heard lots of boys talking about you.”
“You really are the most elegant person I’ve ever met.”
It was obvious that Zhang Mingming was a serious beauty enthusiast and a chatterbox. She kept chattering away beside her, and Song Cheng hadn’t met anyone this lively in a long time. Still, the girl was lively without being overbearing; she clearly knew how to get along with people and never made them feel uncomfortable.
When training first began, even Song Cheng’s excellent stamina left her feeling tired. Several people fainted on the field, so the instructors held a meeting, and the afternoon training wasn’t as intense.
Over the next two days, after teaching the basic standing-at-attention, squatting, parade-rest, and marching movements, the instructors taught everyone a simple set of Military Boxing, consisting of sixteen forms. The movements looked simple enough, but when Instructor Li performed them, he moved with tremendous force. Every punch cut through the air, and his motions were crisp and decisive. He looked incredibly cool.
It seemed every boy had a martial-arts hero’s dream, and they were all very excited. Many of the girls’ movements were far from correct. If Song Cheng hadn’t had the System’s help, she probably would have been all over the place too. Many students noticed that two girls in the class had very precise movements, so Instructor Zhang asked them to help correct the girls’ form. Song Cheng and Lu Yaozhi looked at each other and smiled.
During a break, Zhang Mingming asked Song Cheng, “Have you two both trained before? You look like you know what you’re doing.”
“Yaozhi and I grew up together. We used to be in the same class, and we’ve both learned a little self-defense,” Song Cheng replied.
“Everyone who’s trained is this good?” a boy behind them asked. Song Cheng and the others turned around and saw a boy smiling at them, his eyes narrowed.
“I’m Fu Chao. I know you’re Song Cheng, and you’re Zhang Mingming,” he said, pointing first at Song Cheng, then at Zhang Mingming.
“Man, if I’d known we’d be doing boxing during military training, I would’ve practiced properly over the summer. My dad signed me up for martial arts classes, but I slacked off in every single one. If only I’d known!” Fu Chao cried dramatically.
Zhang Mingming chimed in, “Same! My dad wanted to sign me up for taekwondo so I could learn a few moves, but I insisted on switching to guzheng. If only I hadn’t!”
Song Cheng watched the two of them with amusement, then answered honestly, “Don’t regret it. You wouldn’t learn much in a month. Yaozhi’s studied for years to reach this level.”
They both looked at Song Cheng and asked, “What about you?”
Song Cheng touched her nose. “About…” She held up two fingers. “Two months?”
The two fell silent, then asked, “And your level…?”
They wanted to say, What difference does one month or two make? Song Cheng thought for a moment and answered seriously, “Probably about the same as the instructor’s?”
The two stared at her as if to say, Are you messing with us?
Song Cheng was telling the truth. Ever since the System had gained energy, it had recorded videos of her daily sparring sessions with her coach and stored them in her mind. Every night, it made her correct the movements one by one, making her repeat each until she got it right. By now, Song Cheng’s level should be around first or second-degree black belt.