But what he displayed during the defense was sunshine, confidence, and an exceptionally sharp mind. Despite his plain attire, he still captured everyone’s attention. The presentation was filled with data symbolizing success, as well as proof of excellence such as patents and papers.

This brilliant person had a name that seemed completely out of place.

It was rare for Eric Wright to have such focused energy during a manic phase. He stared at the smile on the other’s face, listening intently to him speak, and felt a tangle of conflicting emotions inside.

Both times they had “met” seemed to be one-sided; the other person was unaware of his existence.

It seemed like a coincidence, but in reality, it wasn’t anything special. Eric Wright closed the video, opened a drawer, glanced at the band-aids, but did nothing. Perhaps encouraged by hypomania, something deep inside him was quietly stirring.

He heard that the school had organized a new book and film club. Eric Wright was very interested, but found out a bit late, and the multimedia classroom was hard to find, so he didn’t make it on time.

However, the arrival of rain brought a certain romantic atmosphere, so even though he was soaked and late, he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed—on the contrary, he was full of anticipation.

Strangely, the moment he entered the classroom, Eric Wright was certain of Edward Harris’s presence.

In the dim room, he found his target effortlessly and noticed that the other was staring at him. The movie had already started, the room was as quiet as a lake, but the images on the screen were full of wind. It looked so free.

If three coincidences happen in just two weeks, what would that mean?

While watching the movie, Eric Wright was a bit distracted, constantly pondering this question.

Unconsciously, it was as if a breeze was slowly pushing Edward Harris toward him, bringing a ripple to the stagnant waters of Eric Wright’s life.

In the shifting light and shadow, Eric Wright clearly saw Edward Harris’s unwavering gaze, and also heard his own heartbeat.

He noticed that the girl in the row ahead was writing something, and saw that everyone around him had a card, except for him.

Realizing he had arrived too late and missed out, Eric Wright searched himself from head to toe and found only a tissue.

It didn’t matter.

He borrowed a pen and wrote a sentence on the tissue.

Perhaps it was the illness acting up, or maybe the overlapping coincidences created a touch of romance—Eric Wright liked things like this, so he naturally wrote his contact information on another tissue.

It was the first time in his life he’d done something like this—impulsive and inexplicable. But at the time, he was convinced he would succeed. Later, in the reading room, Eric Wright checked his social media over and over, hoping to see a “new friend” request as soon as possible.

But afterward, or rather, after coming out of his manic phase, he realized this was an act of overconfidence, and felt ashamed and regretful.

Even more rashly, he had called Edward Harris by name before Edward Harris had introduced himself.

Naturally, Eric Wright never received his friend request.

This would be discouraging for most people, but not for someone like him.

Like many people with this condition, Eric Wright felt an unprecedented pride and joy during hypomanic episodes—a minor setback was nothing.

Without meaning to, a week later, he ran into Edward Harris again. It was raining that day as well, but it was a quieter, more tranquil rainy night.

When Eric Wright walked into the classroom, he felt someone looking at him. Looking up, he saw it was Edward Harris.

They exchanged a brief glance. He sensed Edward Harris wanted to say something, but didn’t.

After days of insomnia and the gloomy weather, Eric Wright’s excitement had lessened considerably, and under medication, he was relatively calm.

He thought, this must be the fourth time.

After returning to his seat, Eric Wright didn’t speak, focusing on catching up with what he’d missed, working with remarkable efficiency.

After a long, long time, when he finally looked up to check the time, Eric Wright found it odd that Edward Harris didn’t seem to be planning to return to the dorm.

People like him, with bipolar disorder, are considered severe psychiatric patients. His grandfather saw him as a complete “danger,” not allowing him to live at school or be alone—even if he stayed at school overnight out of excitement, there would be a driver watching nearby.

But Edward Harris was different. He seemed emotionally stable, mentally healthy, and never at a loss for where to go.

Around three in the morning, Eric Wright felt tired. Turning his head, he saw that Edward Harris had actually fallen asleep, his shoulders and back gently rising and falling, sleeping deeply.

Without any extra reaction, Eric Wright turned back and finished all his assignments, suppressing his thoughts.

Feeling a tightness in his chest and a heavy heartbeat, he took out a cigarette he’d bought from the convenience store, planning to smoke by the window.

But Edward Harris always seemed able to interrupt his plans, whether it was smoking or anything else.

It was as if they had a tacit understanding—they both forgot about the time he’d given his contact information. Edward Harris invited him to breakfast, and Eric Wright didn’t refuse.

At the restaurant, he checked his wallet, ordered a few things at random, and happened to spend all his money. But he didn’t feel embarrassed about his tight budget—he was long used to it.