The days felt dull, dragging on especially slowly, but whenever there was even a bit of excitement, it would rush by like an unstoppable waterfall.

The little bit of relaxation and joy that Henry Cooper brought quickly slipped away.

“Aren’t you going to take that pile of snacks?” Brian Carter stood in the waiting hall, watching the scrolling information.

“If I say yes, are you going to go back to the hotel and bring them to me now?” Henry Cooper said.

“Don’t take it seriously, I was just making conversation.” Brian Carter glanced at him.

“I brought those snacks for you, in case you couldn’t find a place to buy food for a while,” Henry Cooper sighed. “So, tell me, are you going back for May Day, or should I come over again?”

“I’m not going back,” Brian Carter said. “I told you, I’m not going back anymore.”

“I really don’t get why you’re being so stubborn,” Henry Cooper said. “Then I’ll come over, and bring that bunch of idiots from our class to hang out, how about it?”

“We’ll see when the time comes,” Brian Carter leaned against the wall. “We weren’t that close to begin with, and after a few months apart, who knows if anyone would still want to come. This isn’t exactly a tourist spot.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it then.” Henry Cooper nodded.

The two of them were silent for a while. Suddenly, Henry Cooper, who had been sitting all along, stood up and stared straight at Brian Carter.

“What are you doing!” Brian Carter was startled, pointing at him. “Don’t you dare try anything! I’ll hit you.”

“Hug me.” Henry Cooper opened his arms.

“Damn.” Brian Carter was a bit speechless, but opened his arms and hugged him.

“Don’t forget me,” Henry Cooper said. “I mean it.”

Brian Carter let out a soft sigh. “Come see me on May Day, and I won’t forget.”

Henry Cooper laughed. “Alright.”

In the few days before the new semester started, David Thompson cooked only one meal; for every other mealtime, he wasn’t home.

At first, Brian Carter thought about trying to cook some noodles himself, but when he entered the kitchen and saw the mess of pots, bowls, and pans scattered everywhere, along with all the condiment bottles coated in a layer of greasy grime, he instantly lost all motivation.

Over these days, he ordered food from every restaurant within a kilometer that had a name he found interesting, and finally made it to the start of the semester.

The day before school started, his new homeroom teacher called him, which surprised Brian Carter a little.

“Your father’s phone has never been answered,” the homeroom teacher said.

That wasn’t much of a surprise. His dad’s hearing wasn’t good, and he was always at the card table. Brian Carter had passed by the building where David Thompson played cards a few times, and every time, he could hear the noise from upstairs as soon as he reached the ground floor.

The homeroom teacher’s surname was Xu. Judging by his voice, he was an uncle-type, quite enthusiastic, which eased some of Brian Carter’s anxiety about the new environment.

On the day he went to register at school, it started snowing early in the morning. Just like Henry Cooper had said, he’d never seen such heavy snow before.

It was actually pretty cool.

As he entered the school gate, he glanced around at the students nearby. They all looked more or less the same, but even though they were all high schoolers and there were plenty of unfamiliar faces, the sense of strangeness felt especially strong.

He even specifically looked to see if he could spot Eric Bennett’s face, but didn’t see him.

“Brian Carter, that’s a nice name,” the homeroom teacher, Uncle Harris, really was an uncle, and seemed like one who’d had a drink that morning. “My surname is Xu, I’m Daniel Harris, your homeroom teacher. I’ll be teaching you Chinese. The students in class all call me Old Harris, or Mr. Harris.”

“Old Harris… sir.” Brian Carter politely gave a slight bow, but felt that no matter how he addressed him, it sounded a bit off.

“Let’s chat for a bit. After morning reading, the first period is Chinese, I’ll take you to class then,” Old Harris pointed to a chair nearby. “Have a seat.”

Brian Carter sat down.

“Not many students transfer in during the second year of high school,” Old Harris smiled. “Especially to our school… I looked at your previous transcripts, your grades are excellent.”

“They’re alright,” Brian Carter said.

“Not just alright, they’re very good, don’t be modest,” Old Harris laughed, then sighed, and said in a low voice, “It’s a bit of a pity you transferred here.”

Brian Carter didn’t say anything, just looked at Old Harris.

His previous homeroom teacher had said the same thing before—what a pity, the teachers, students, and teaching quality here weren’t great… But hearing Old Harris say it too, Brian Carter was a bit surprised.

“I see your science grades are better than your liberal arts grades,” Old Harris said. “Why did you choose the liberal arts class?”

Brian Carter felt this question was hard to answer, since both his parents wanted him to choose science. He couldn’t bring himself to say the kind of melodramatic answer that was bursting in his mind, even though he’d already done it, saying it out loud still made him feel like a dazzling, rainbow-colored idiot.

After hesitating for a long time, he finally said, “I liked our homeroom teacher, and he taught the liberal arts class.”

“I see,” Old Harris was taken aback. “Well, I hope you’ll like me too. It’s a bit troublesome to switch to the science class now.”

“Oh.” Brian Carter looked at his face.

After a moment of eye contact, Old Harris burst out laughing, and Brian Carter couldn’t help but laugh along for a while. This homeroom teacher was actually pretty interesting.

After the bell for the first period rang, Old Harris tucked a folder under his arm, grabbed a USB drive and put it in his pocket. “Come on, I’ll take you to class.”

“Okay.” Brian Carter slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed him out of the office.