Chapter Forty-Two: The College Entrance Examination

As expected, Jiang Yuan withdrew the money and sent Ye Mian a reply. As for Jiang Chen, there had been no news at all.

His profile picture remained unchanged, his social media void of any content—he was as silent as his presence. On New Year's Eve, snow fell endlessly. Ye Mian waited for a long time but never received the New Year's greeting she had hoped for.

On the third day, after her red envelope had already expired, she finally got a reply.

[Jiang Chen: Happy New Year.]

Ye Mian blinked, thinking he really must be busy. Not wanting to disturb him further, she simply sent back a brief “Happy New Year.”

Spring had come, yet the heavy snow had not melted. School was about to start. Ye Haisheng had left Jiangcheng, embarking on another year of work and travel. Watching his departing figure, Ye Mian suddenly remembered why, in later years, her father had never returned to Jiangcheng.

It was because the old district was scheduled for demolition this year. The official documents had arrived in haste, with the intention of accommodating the June college entrance examination, so demolition was postponed until August. At that time, Ye Haisheng would use the compensation to buy several apartments in the new district, but less than half a year later, the developers all disappeared, and the buildings were left incomplete.

Those apartments had trapped all of their family’s savings. Ye Haisheng could only continue his itinerant work. Ye Mian thought, perhaps this time she could persuade her father to buy a house elsewhere. Although housing prices had already risen high, there was still room for growth. At the very least, they could avoid that painful loss, and her father would have a much easier life.

There were still a few months before August. This matter could wait a little longer.

For now, as a student, the most important thing was to seize the opportunity fate had given her and study diligently.

As for the future...

Ye Mian raised her head, gazing at the deep blue sky, biting her lip.

She did not want to follow the same path as in her previous life. Having experienced it once, she understood that road did not suit her. She wanted to live differently.

In March, the schoolyard was still barren, with no new buds on the branches. The sun, though present, did little to warm the spring wind, which carried a chill sharper than winter's. For a long time afterward, Ye Mian hardly ever saw Jiang Chen, even though they attended the same school.

No matter how she tried, she never ran into him. The few times they did meet were when she went to Class Two to find Jiang Yuan, where she would only catch a fleeting glimpse of him.

He remained as indifferent as ever.

Ye Mian paid it no mind—she greeted him and left.

One was afraid of disturbing, the other afraid of causing delay.

Both feared they might affect each other’s studies.

In half a year, the only visible change in Ye Mian was her blossoming appearance. From a pretty and delicate girl, she had grown into a radiant young beauty. Her once round, almond eyes had become elongated and slightly upturned, her lashes long and curling upwards. The baby fat on her cheeks was gone; her skin was smooth and fair, untouched by acne.

Li Hao, who had always thought Ye Mian was pretty, now lowered his head even further when he saw her.

On a sunny day in mid-March, Li Hao slipped into the classroom while everyone else was outside for PE and secretly placed an apology letter on Ye Mian's desk.

The letter was sincere, addressed not only to Ye Mian but also mentioning Jiang Chen.

After class, Ye Mian found the letter, read it, and said nothing, tucking it away in her drawer.

Some things are best left in the past; there was no need for explicit forgiveness.

Gradually, the boys in the class started to spread the word: Ye Mian from Class One had become even more beautiful—stunningly so.

Many began to find excuses to pass by Class One, pretending to glance casually at the girl by the window, then quickly walking away, holding their breath.

Those brief, stolen glances became a secret the boys silently shared.

Ye Mian of Class One was truly beautiful.

One afternoon, Sun Dongdong from Class Two took a sip of soda, his gaze calm as he observed his friends. “Ye Mian? She’s become prettier?”

Someone replied, “Wasn’t she always good-looking?”

“...True.”

Everyone exchanged looks. “Maybe she’s gotten even prettier.”

“Let’s go see,” Sun Dongdong said, jumping off his desk.

He accidentally bumped the desk behind him, making it wobble. Scratching his head in embarrassment, he apologized, “Sorry, Jiang Chen.”

The boy sat on the desk, his expression unchanged, eyes cool and distant, not the least bit startled. The spring sunlight drifted in, soft and weightless, merging with the pale color of his eyes, making him look especially serene.

“It’s fine,” he replied.

Sun Dongdong, ever the cheerful one, took the chance to ask, “We’re going to see Ye Mian—coming? Everyone says she’s the prettiest girl in school now. Come on.”

Jiang Chen’s gaze settled on his curious face. “No, thanks,” he said quietly.

No one minded; they jostled each other out the door.

Jiang Chen lowered his eyes to the blank page before him, thinking,

The girl had always been beautiful.

Beautiful, like the peach blossoms of March.

But someone like him—what right did he have to look?

Reason told him that some things, too beautiful, were not meant to be coveted.

...

Ye Mian had also noticed that many boys and girls liked to linger near Class One, some frequently sneaking glances at her.

Of course, she understood these young hearts—after all, as people would say in later years, they were just a bunch of looks-obsessed teens.

Still, the school corridors were open to everyone; she couldn't very well stop them from looking. She sometimes wondered: would Jiang Chen ever pass by here too?

But he never did.

In reality, someone as aloof as Jiang Chen would never do something so awkwardly adolescent, and she couldn’t even imagine him acting like a bashful boy.

Yes, she thought, it was just her own wishful thinking.

Day by day, time slipped by, the college entrance exam drawing ever closer. Immersed in the relentless routine of school—class, study, dorm—Ye Mian never complained of exhaustion.

Only after the last monthly exam in May did she finally relax.

Six hundred seventy points.

Ye Mian’s grades had risen from the bottom of Class One to the top—meaning, if all went well, she could get into an excellent university.

She was delighted, for she had earned every point through her own diligent effort.

At the end of May, sunlight flooded the land, cicadas beginning to stir, the air thick and sultry.

Ye Haisheng returned home punctually from his travels—partly because his daughter was about to sit her entrance exams and needed focus, partly because the authorities had summoned him back for the demolition matters.

In the blink of an eye, it was the day of the college entrance exam.

The weather was stifling.

Ye Mian entered the exam hall with her classmates.

For two days, Ye Haisheng ferried her back and forth, never leaving the vicinity, anxiously waiting in a teahouse near the exam site.

When the final session ended, Ye Mian walked up to him, and he, as if finally liberated, clapped his hands, took her pencil case, and said, “Let’s go! Dad will make you something delicious at home. Finishing the exams is already a victory—let’s be happy!”

Yet Ye Mian did not leave immediately. She looked around at the students pouring out of the exam halls, a faint frown on her brow.

She remembered that Jiang Chen was taking the exam at the same site as she was.