Grace Miller looked up at him.

Ethan Young asked again, "Do you prefer Tsinghua or Peking University?"

Grace Miller recalled how Ethan Young used to tease her with that line, "See if I get into Tsinghua or Peking," and casually set her bowl aside, wiped the corner of her eye, and was amused by him: "Either is fine, as long as you like it, any school is okay."

Henry Howard would sometimes spend a while in the library during the holidays, setting his phone to silent mode. Only when he closed his book and reached for his phone to check the time did he see the message from Ethan Young: "Bro."

To avoid disturbing others in the library, Henry Howard returned his book, dialing as he walked outside: "What's up?"

Then he heard Ethan Young say, "Bro, next time let's see who gets first place."

Henry Howard was about to ask, "Last place?"

Ethan Young added, "First place, as in the top."

Henry Howard walked out the side door, stopped in his tracks when he heard those three words. He knew what it meant for the kid to want to get first place for real. After pretending for so long, now that he said he wanted to be number one, there was only one possibility left.

It was already dark outside. Henry Howard leaned against the wall and asked, "Are you serious?"

Ethan Young was pretty bold, sitting on the balcony railing, letting the wind blow, hands braced on the edge, feet dangling in the air. Looking down from the second floor, he could only see a few rows of streetlights not far away.

"I'm serious," facing the wind, Ethan Young slowly closed his eyes and said, "That thing you told me before, I understand what it means now."

A month-long holiday isn't that long; it passed in the blink of an eye.

During the New Year, it snowed again in a city, piling up a thick layer of snow on the ground.

The class group chat was filled with "Happy New Year" messages.

Besides exchanging greetings, the most active thing in the group was grabbing red envelopes.

To grab red envelopes, the admin even kicked Ethan Young out of the group.

[许晴晴]: Yu bro, we'll add you back after we finish grabbing.

[许晴晴]: It's New Year's, but with your luck, I don't think we should be in the same group grabbing red envelopes. Please give us a chance to survive.

[万达]: Never doubt our friendship! We're still friends!

[刘存浩]: Even so, when it comes to red envelopes, friendship doesn't mean much!

[罗文强]: Haozi, what you said is just spot on.

That night, Henry Howard had pretty good luck and got the biggest share from the few hundred yuan Old Tang sent in the group.

[刘存浩]: King of luck! Fifty yuan! Awesome, Chao bro!

[罗文强]: Why did I only get fifty cents? This is not fair, do you really have to hurt a poor boy like me this much?

[万达]: Hahahahaha, fifty cents. I got five yuan, suddenly five yuan feels pretty good. I'm content.

Grace Miller saw off the last guest, feeling relieved, and sat down next to Ethan Young. She hadn't eaten much at dinner, so while eating dessert she complained, "I didn't even get to watch the Spring Festival Gala. I only saw half of that skit just now. What happened in the end? How did that person turn out?"

How would Ethan Young know? He hadn't really watched it: "There was a skit?"

Grace Miller: ""

Ethan Young kept Ms. Miller company watching a few more programs, but couldn't find anything funny.

His phone vibrated twice. He secretly glanced down—it was a red envelope from Henry Howard.

No matter how hard Xu Qingqing and the others tried, even resorting to the dirty trick of kicking people out, they never expected the biggest red envelope would still end up with Ethan Young.

[贺朝]: Whatever I got, it's all yours.

Fireworks were going off outside the window.

With a few loud bangs, the sky was filled with scattered, colorful starlight, flashing across the night sky.

------------

91. Chapter Ninety-One

The Waking of Insects was approaching, and the temperature was gradually warming up.

The food street outside Liyang No. 2 High School was decorated with even more festive banners than during the New Year. From a distance, the whole street was filled with "Celebrate the Start of School" signs.

After goofing off for the entire holiday, many people only started catching up on homework as the winter break was ending. After several days of endless cramming, they still weren't done. In the end, they could only accept their fate and planned to arrive at school early to try to finish.

Ethan Young had just come up the stairs when he heard a wail of despair from "Class 3, Grade 2": "We have to turn this in too?!"

"What's the English essay this time?!"

"Did anyone do the math workbook? I'll trade my Chinese test papers for it."

As Ethan Young passed the back window, he curled his fingers and knocked twice on the glass, not too hard, not too soft.

Luke Carter, as class monitor, was leading the way in copying homework, holding up several Chinese test papers. Before he could finish shouting, he heard the knock and was so startled he almost jumped: "Shit!"

It was windy outside. Ethan Young had his hood up, and only remembered to pull it down as he was about to enter.

Everyone thought the mad dog was coming to inspect. The classroom went quiet for two seconds, then exploded again: "You almost scared me to death, Yu bro. You're not the Yu bro I know anymore."

"Did you have fun messing with us?"

"Is this how you bully your weak, pitiful, and helpless classmates?"

""

Henry Howard had arrived early and was napping in the classroom. He vaguely heard the commotion and half-opened his eyes.

He had returned to school a day early.

All the boarders who came back early underestimated the mad dog's passion for broadcasting. Their beloved Director Jiang started shouting before six in the morning: "New semester, new—!"

Henry Howard propped himself up and watched the kid walk over.

He hadn't felt much about the mad dog's official-sounding speech, but the moment he saw Ethan Young, he truly felt it: a new semester.

A new day.

Henry Howard smiled and greeted, "Morning."

Ethan Young walked to his desk, bent down slightly, and helped him zip up the jacket that was stuck at his chest: "Morning."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, brightening the classroom a bit.

Luke Carter was still looking for someone willing to trade homework.

Henry Howard pulled out his math workbook from under the desk. He'd done a bit of it, but according to his previous steady improvement plan, his error rate was still pretty high: "Haozi, I'll trade with you."

Luke Carter stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then silently turned his face away and kept asking, "Anyone else?"

Henry Howard: "What, you look down on me?"

"No, no, you got forty-nine points," Luke Carter was afraid to hurt his confidence, so after some awkward flattery, he still couldn't help but want him to face reality, "But Chao bro, you can't get too cocky, you know what I mean."

"Haozi, you ignore me now," Henry Howard said, tossing the workbook on the desk, "—but one day, you'll be out of my league."

Luke Carter had a face that said, "Who am I, where am I, our class's big bro seems to have gone crazy": ""

Ethan Young had just pulled a gel pen from the side pocket of his backpack, and almost threw it in response to that line.

Only when the bell rang did the classroom gradually quiet down.

On the first day of school, all the teachers were instilling the idea that "it's okay if you didn't do well on the final exam, just work hard this semester," hoping they'd get their heads back in the game after a wild holiday and quickly adjust to studying.

Especially their homeroom teacher, Old Tang, who treated Chinese class like a homeroom session. He barely taught any new material, just kept giving them pep talks.

Ethan Young was getting a bit sleepy, propping his chin on his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry Howard fiddling with his phone for a whole period: "Playing games?"

Henry Howard calmly slid the phone back onto the desk, responding with an "ah".

Ethan Young didn't care and closed his eyes for a nap.

Only then did Henry Howard reopen his chat with Sean Parker and type: What's your problem?

He'd been thinking these days about what to do for the kid's birthday. No matter how he thought about it, he still didn't know what to give, so he asked Sean Parker. After waiting a few minutes, he got two words: Not talking.

[沈捷]: I think it's better if we only talk after class.

[沈捷]: Don't try to get me in trouble again!

Henry Howard:

After that embarrassing incident in the teacher's office, the psychological trauma was too deep. Sean Parker remembered the lesson of blood, tears, and the self-criticism letter, and never again would he risk teaming up with Henry Howard to play games during class.

Same goes for chatting—avoid it if possible.

Sean Parker had his textbook propped up, hands hidden under the desk, typing away. Halfway through, he looked up to make sure the teacher's back was turned, then continued tapping on his phone: Chao bro, please just pay attention in class! Stop messaging me!

Ethan Young's birthday was in mid-March, and there wasn't much time left.