Popular answer: How about setting a small goal first? For example, improving your grades by a certain number of points, or aiming for a certain type of school.
The user who asked the question replied: It doesn’t have to be too good, Ivy League will do.
“”
The words “second to last” made Ethan Young raise an eyebrow, and he vaguely felt that the tone of that user seemed a bit familiar.
He didn’t think much of it, scrolled down a bit more, and found a bunch of “What should I do if my child doesn’t like studying?” In those, every parent was extremely anxious, and in the end, the conversation turned into a parents’ get-together.
—Where do you work?
—State-owned enterprise, sigh, competition is tough these days, life’s not easy.
“Dinner’s ready,” Grace Miller brought out the last dish from the kitchen, took off her apron and said, “Put your phone down, don’t hold it all day.”
Ethan Young pressed the power button, and the screen immediately went dark: “Got it.”
Four dishes and a soup, all just home-cooked food.
If Gregory Cooper gets off work on time every day, he’ll come home for dinner. Looks like he had a social event today, so only he and Ms. Gu were at the table.
Ethan Young ate quite a bit of every dish. He was about to put down his chopsticks and go upstairs when he saw Grace Miller sitting across from him, staring at him.
“How come you ate so little?” Ms. Gu always felt her son didn’t eat enough. “Are you full? Want another bowl of soup?”
Maybe every parent raises their child like a pig.
Ethan Young served himself another bowl of tomato and egg soup. When he was almost done, he finally said, “Mom, I’m going to Aunt Mei’s tomorrow.”
Grace Miller’s hand holding the soup spoon paused for a moment, but in the end she didn’t say anything: “Then be careful, don’t cause trouble, and come back early.”
Grace Miller didn’t really like him always going to Blackwater Street.
In her view, it used to be out of necessity, having to live in that kind of environment, but at least they met good people. But after all, their values were different. Ray's Mom and Aunt Mei’s way of bonding was cursing at each other, and sometimes the two of them would squat at the street corner and smoke.
She had thought that after moving away, after a year or two, or two or three years, their ties with Blackwater Street would fade.
But Ethan Young, this kid who seemed not to care about anything and didn’t talk much, was actually very loyal.
At night, Ethan Young searched again for what to do if you don’t like studying. He scoured the whole internet but didn’t find any good ways to spark enthusiasm for learning. There were plenty of weird tricks, like getting into a car accident to jolt your brain, or trying to get struck by lightning, and even people selling fake medicine.
—Amazing Wisdom Capsules! High-tech new product, boosts intelligence, develops both sides of the brain, easily improves grades, no need for car accidents or lightning strikes, one course in thirty days!
Ethan Young stared at it for a while, then thought about Henry Howard’s grades, and actually felt a bit tempted to order a course.
Ethan Young scrolled down, wanting to see what ingredients were in this wisdom capsule, but before he could figure it out, Henry Howard’s call came in.
When he answered, he accidentally hit the speakerphone, and Henry Howard’s “Little one, what are you up to?” came out loud.
Ethan Young thought, I’m hesitating whether to buy you a course to try.
“Nothing much,” Ethan Young had just finished showering, his hair still a bit damp. He definitely couldn’t mention the wisdom capsule, so he asked back, “What about you?”
Henry Howard said, “Thinking about you.”
The boy’s tone was a bit serious, and the lingering sound of his voice circled around Ethan Young’s ear twice.
Then the next second, Henry Howard’s rare burst of emotional intelligence immediately dropped, because Henry Howard added, “That’s the standard answer, remember it.”
“” Like hell I’ll remember.
In fact, Henry Howard had been holding back for a long time. As soon as Ethan Young left, he wanted to call. He held out until this hour, thinking that even if Ethan Young’s family needed a late-night snack, they should be done by now.
Henry Howard thought of that stepbrother with the domineering prince script and said, “Did that idiot bully our little one?”
“He’s not here,” Ethan Young was stunned for a moment before realizing who Henry Howard meant, and as for the word “bully,” it wasn’t clear who was bullying whom. “He can’t beat me anyway.”
Jack Cooper hadn’t ever gotten the upper hand with him all these years, couldn’t win in a fight, and couldn’t win in a war of words either.
The two of them chatted idly.
“By the way, Old Young, did you mute the class group?”
“No, I check it sometimes.”
“I thought the class rep drove you away. Yesterday he had that math formula on his head, n c・v, it was shaking all day and I even memorized it.”
“”
What’s the use of memorizing it? That’s a chemistry formula.
If you write that on a math test, you think you’ll get points for the formula?
Ethan Young felt helpless: “Wow, you’re amazing.”
That secret group for Class 3 had already been quietly disbanded. Ever since they realized the school bully didn’t beat people up and the teachers were all reasonable, it felt unnecessary to have a small group, as it just made them seem less united.
Besides, their homeroom teacher had an old person’s schedule, went to bed early at night, and couldn’t control them at all.
Nightlife belongs only to the young.
The Class 3 group was always lively. The class rep would change his group nickname to all sorts of formulas every day, and even while chatting for fun, he’d force-feed them some key knowledge points.
Every time Wanda popped up, it immediately turned into a gossip session, everyone grabbing a small stool and munching on sunflower seeds.
The classmates in the group were all pretty down-to-earth. Quinn Shaw would, on weekends when she had no choice but to go shopping with her mom, stand at the entrance of a clothing store with her arms full of stuff and vent in the group: I! Hate! Shopping!
At this point, Luke Carter and the others would comfort her: None of us guys like shopping either, you really are our Brother Qing.
Ethan Young didn’t know what to say. Because of his conversation-ending nature, he rarely spoke in the “No Fighting” group chat.
Even though there wasn’t much to talk about, the two of them still chatted late into the night, and Henry Howard was really good at telling jokes. Even the most ordinary things became interesting when he said them.
Until Ethan Young started to get sleepy.
The sky was already completely dark, and the only light in the room was from the phone screen, glowing faintly.
Henry Howard listened as the little one’s voice got softer and softer, and the occasional responses were just single syllables, the tone a bit soft, sounding unexpectedly well-behaved. Henry Howard couldn’t help but lower his own voice: “Fallen asleep?”
No response from the other side.
But even over the phone, he could still feel their breaths intertwined.
Henry Howard was a bit reluctant to hang up.
Very satisfied, but also not quite satisfied.
“I’ve realized lately,” even though he knew Ethan Young couldn’t hear, Henry Howard still said softly, “Liking you is kind of addictive.”
Ethan Young wasn’t the type for all that mushy stuff, and maybe it was a case of thinking about something during the day and dreaming about it at night, but that night he actually had a really bizarre dream.
He dreamed that after the college entrance exam, Henry Howard went off to drive an excavator.
Nightmare.
He woke up and took a long time to recover.
Ethan Young got up and washed his face, and couldn’t help but say to the mirror, “Damn.”
There weren’t many people on the early bus. Ethan Young put in his earphones, planning to sleep a bit on the ride.
The bus was bumpy, especially when turning or braking suddenly.
Ethan Young tried for a long time but couldn’t fall asleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he’d see Henry Howard sitting in an excavator grinning at him again. So he opened his eyes and saw the endless stream of cars outside the window, and the most common sight along the road was breakfast stalls.
After getting off at his stop, he looked down and sent a message to Ray Jones: Have you had breakfast yet?
—Not yet, should we just meet at Wayne's Mom’s later?
—Order five meat buns for me first, I’ll be there soon.
Wayne's Mom started out selling breakfast at a little street stall, and later, after saving up a bit, she took over a small shop. The kids who grew up in this area had been eating her food for years, and if they missed a day, they’d really think about it.
Ethan Young found a seat and sat down, waited a bit, and urged Ray Jones to hurry up. Just after sending the message, he looked up and saw a steaming bowl of tofu pudding already in front of him.
“Kid, I saw you coming from far away,” Wayne's Mom put down the tofu pudding, her hands still wet, wiping them on her apron at her waist, “The buns are still steaming, they’ll be ready soon, have some of this first to fill your stomach.”
“Wayne's Mom,” the surroundings weren’t great, the ground was all uneven concrete, the shop was too small, so if there wasn’t enough room for tables inside, they’d put them outside. Ethan Young smiled with a spoon in hand and said, “I haven’t even ordered yet.”
Wayne's Mom said loudly, “Like I don’t know what you and Lei like to eat? I could serve you with my eyes closed.”
As she spoke, Big Ray came in wearing slippers, still half-asleep. He scratched his head as he walked to the door, then held out a hand and gestured, “Wayne's Mom, five.”