During the Qingming holiday, to comfort Zhang Yue, who was still feeling somewhat defeated, Jiang Lai booked two high-speed train tickets to a neighboring coastal city for a trip. Her excuse to her mother was that midterm exams were approaching, and she needed to stay at school for easier studying.
The high-speed train ride took an hour and a half, and they arrived at two in the afternoon.
The April sea breeze carried a briny chill into the station square. The streets were sparsely populated, lined with two rows of plane trees whose new leaves had just sprouted, forming a tender green layer atop the branches.
In the evening, they went to the beach, where the shore was almost empty. The seawater in April was still too cold for swimming, and the surface of the rocks was dried by the sea breeze, their coarse grains pressing uncomfortably against the soles of their feet.
Zhang Yue ran a few steps forward and shouted toward the sea, “Men are all no good—”
The trailing notes were torn apart by the wind and swept backward. In the distance, several seagulls fluttered into the air, and one of them let out a cry, as if agreeing with her.
Jiang Lai sat on the sand behind her, her jeans rolled up to her calves, holding up her phone to record a video. In the frame, Zhang Yue’s skirt flapped wildly in the wind, with the gray-blue sea and a hazy horizon as the backdrop. She saved the video, quietly awaiting the future moment of reckoning.
After shouting, Zhang Yue thought about her current life of abundant wealth and added, “Except for my dad!”
As soon as she said this, she paused, remembering that Jiang Lai was sitting right beside her.
Although Jiang Lai never brought it up herself, Zhang Yue had always kept in mind the fact that Jiang Lai’s father had run away.
“Um,” Zhang Yue jumped down from the rocks and plopped down beside Jiang Lai, her tone now eight degrees more subdued than when she had been shouting. “Actually, we shouldn’t paint everyone with the same brush. It mainly depends on whether they have money. A dad who spends money on his daughter is a good dad.”
Jiang Lai had always told her that Jiang Wei had left her a sum of money before leaving, so Zhang Yue tried to make up for it from this angle.
Listening to this jumbled yet utterly sincere attempt at compensation, Jiang Lai couldn’t help but chuckle.
[Keyword detected, triggering Compensation. WeChat transfer received: 8,000 yuan.]
Jiang Lai replied, “It’s fine, it’s all in the past. I’m in a good mood.”
Still unconvinced, Zhang Yue fished two preserved plum candies from her bag, unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth, then handed the other to Jiang Lai. “You really don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind.” Jiang Lai took the candy, unwrapped it, and put it in her mouth.
Zhang Yue observed her for two seconds. “How about I ask my parents to introduce a few boyfriends to your mom? They’re in business now and meet a lot of wealthy people. We could find you a rich stepdad.”
Jiang Lai nearly choked on her saliva. “That really isn’t necessary, but thank you for your whole family’s enthusiasm.”
[Detected that the Host has received continuous emotional support keywords in the current scenario, triggering Physical Rewards.]
[Physical Rewards: One new Switch gaming console.]
She unzipped her bag, and inside was a new, neatly boxed item. She glanced down at it for two seconds before zipping the bag back up.
When Zhang Yue walked back from the rocks, Jiang Lai pulled out the gaming console box and handed it to her.
“For you.”
Zhang Yue took it. The red-and-blue controllers remained vibrant even in the cool evening light.
She turned the box over in her hands, looking at it from all sides, then raised her head, the candy in her mouth rolling from one cheek to the other.
“When did you buy this?”
“Hmm… just a couple of days ago.” She couldn’t very well say “just two seconds ago.”
“You’re heartbroken, aren’t you?” Jiang Lai crunched the preserved plum candy between her teeth. “A breakup gift.”
“This is way too expensive—”
Jiang Lai cut her off. “You’ve always been generous with me too. Don’t get all sentimental.”
Zhang Yue looked down at the box again, holding it in her hands and weighing it.
“Lai Lai.”
“Hmm?”
“Am I your most beloved bestie?” Zhang Yue asked, her eyes sparkling.
Jiang Lai stood up, brushing the sand off her jeans. “Let’s go, time to recharge. That new gadget of yours only has 3% battery left.”
Zhang Yue followed her back, walking barefoot on the beach, her canvas shoes swinging in her hand. After a few steps, she muttered to herself, “Men are no good, but besties are.”
For the next half of the semester, the two besties returned to the same comfortable routine they’d enjoyed the previous year.
As the semester neared its end, the final exam results were released. Jiang Lai’s ranking had improved by another five places. After adjusting to Mingde’s teaching style last semester, she was now fully accustomed and making even greater progress.
When Jiang Shan called, Jiang Lai had her on speakerphone while trimming her nails. Hearing about her daughter’s excellent results, Jiang Shan was overjoyed. “Sweetie, tell Mom the truth—did you secretly sign up for tutoring classes? If you need money, you must tell me.”
Jiang Lai remained calm and composed, revealing her genuine pride in front of her mother. “No, this is all thanks to advanced study methods and scientific mindset management.”
Early June arrived, bringing with it the college entrance exam season.
The atmosphere at Mingde was split in two. In the regular division, the senior-year building was so quiet that only the hum of air conditioning units could be heard. Even footsteps in the hallway were deliberately softened. The junior-year students also grew tense, knowing they would be the main contenders in the sprint after summer break.
Meanwhile, the international division remained vibrant and youthful. Everyone was discussing which Ivy League summer programs to attend or which foreign universities to apply to.
Jiang Lai felt no pressure. With the adult-level intelligence provided by the System and her consistent performance over the past two years, she had a solid foundation of confidence for her senior year.
She calculated the savings in her System account—over 400,000 yuan. Even after deducting this semester’s expenses, it had grown slightly.
It was enough to cover all four years of university and her mother’s living expenses. There was no need to rely on the college entrance exam to change her fate.
During the exam days, freshmen and sophomores were given a break. On the afternoon of the final exam day, Jiang Lai and Zhang Yue were at a café near the school, reading comics.
Their table faced the street outside the window, offering a clear view of the road leading to the school gate.
Zhang Yue finished a comic, closed the book, and was about to share her thoughts when her gaze drifted past Jiang Lai’s shoulder and fixed on a point outside. Her words caught in her throat.
“What’s wrong?”
Zhang Yue, still holding the straw in her mouth, tilted her chin toward the window.
Jiang Lai turned to look. Standing at the school gate was a couple.
Lu Shiyu was dressed in casual clothes, his hair cut a little shorter. He looked like he had just stepped out of the exam hall. His girlfriend stood beside him, half a head shorter, her hair tied in a high ponytail. This senior was already a college freshman and had come to pick him up.
Zhang Yue bit her straw and sighed. “So this is what they mean by ‘as long as you’re good-looking, your boyfriend is taking the college entrance exam’?”
Before the sophomore-year final exams, the college entrance exam honor roll was posted.
Lu Shiyu’s results were average, not good enough to join his girlfriend in the capital. On the honor roll, he was admitted to a university in another city.
A few days later, on the final day of the semester exams, Zhang Yue lay in bed scrolling through her phone and noticed that Lu Shiyu had changed his profile picture from a couple’s photo to a solo landscape shot.
She took a screenshot and asked a senior in her third year of high school about it, who replied, “They broke up. That senior said she couldn’t handle a long-distance relationship.”
Zhang Yue texted Jiang Lai: “Lu Shiyu broke up.”
Jiang Lai’s reply was calm and unfazed: “Your chance has come again.”
“Who cares.” After sending that message, Zhang Yue flipped her phone over, finished the last potato chip, crumpled the bag into a ball, and tossed it into the trash can.