Yifeng Alley was quiet and dim, layers of leaves piled up, the whole alley exuding a strong sense of age. Big-character posters from the 80s and 90s were plastered everywhere, and the street was lined with dazzling little convenience stores. It was said to be one of Qingyi City's iconic vintage architectural areas, and many internet celebrities came here to check in. The two of them carried a turtle, heading toward the residential buildings deep in the alley amid Henry Clark's loud and boisterous shouting—

"This place attracts so many mosquitoes. How did a pampered young master like you live here since childhood? Damn, what did I just see? Something just darted past—was that, was that... the legendary Jerry?"

Henry Clark had really never seen a live rat before in his life.

Brian Brooks smiled, hooked his arm around Henry Clark's neck, pulled him closer, and pointed at a half-open rolling shutter door nearby. "If you shout any louder, that half-deaf old lady will be watching you."

"Why is she watching me?"

"She thinks you're calling her honey."

"......"

Henry Clark kept cursing all the way.

They walked to the entrance of the senior year review building. Under the hazy white streetlight, it was like three people—one boy and two girls—stood on a blank sheet of paper, looking like an ink painting. One of the girls even had shockingly green hair.

Henry Clark squinted, staring in disbelief: "What the hell! Has the parrot become a spirit?"

Brian Brooks also heard a voice that had been popping up a lot today. He stopped, sipping his cola, and glanced over carelessly.

"There’s no need for this. Why do you always think the worst before the results are out? Just because I solved the last two big math and physics problems? Fine, I admit, that’s my fault."

You could tell the girl speaking genuinely wanted to comfort, but unfortunately, she probably had low empathy—she couldn’t even convince herself.

"......"

"......"

Henry Clark nudged Brian Brooks, speaking in a tone of instant camaraderie: "…Uh, this girl’s comforting skills are on par with yours."

Under the dim streetlight, fireflies flitted about in circles, tirelessly. Who knew how long those three had been talking there? The boy’s expression never changed, like a wooden post, standing there stiffly.

That clean, spring-like voice came again: "A lot of people in the City No.1 High’s experimental class didn’t do well this time. Even the prospective top scorer missed an exam. Of course, I’m not cursing him, but with you like this, if he doesn’t jump off a building, isn’t he letting you down for giving up on yourself?"

The "parrot" whispered, "Yeah, you were the one who approached Ethan Turner first."

……

Henry Clark never expected to be eating melon seeds and gossiping about his own bro. He turned, gloating, and said, "The prospective top scorer, they’re talking about you, right? Hey, why didn’t you go jump off a building?"

Brian Brooks glanced at him.

Henry Clark looked like he was enjoying the show: "But do they know the subject you missed was an elective module? And they’re using you to comfort their boyfriends?"

Henry Clark didn’t really get it either. Anyway, according to their homeroom teacher, even without the elective module, Brian Brooks should have no problem getting into any school except the top two in the country. Plus, he seemed to have some kind of competition bonus points. It was just his airheaded mom who insisted on sending him abroad.

Brian Brooks had one hand in his pocket, the other holding an unfinished bottle of cola. His arm was slender and fair, and under the dim light, you could faintly see the clear blue veins. He said, a bit mischievously, "Why don’t you go tell her?"

"What?"

"Our prospective top scorer may have missed an exam, but his mental fortitude is strong," he lazily draped the hand holding the cola bottle over Henry Clark's shoulder, "Not only did he not jump off a building after bombing the test, he doesn’t need his girlfriend to comfort him either. Your boyfriend is too weak."

Henry Clark clicked his tongue twice, "Wow, rare to see you not playing the victim. Aren’t you the best at that?"

"When have I ever played the victim?"

"Your WeChat name, that’s proof enough—cr," Henry Clark said, "Even though I only studied the core subjects for two months, I know what it means."

Cr, comes from—

He was abandoned by his biological parents as a child and didn’t know where he came from, so there was no suffix. That’s how Henry Clark understood it.

"With an imagination like that, you should change your name to Stephen Copper," Brian Brooks looked down at him, face full of exasperation, "cr is the name of a KartRider team. It means ‘crazy undefeated legend.’ Idiot, read more books."

Henry Clark: "......"

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

Author’s note:

Probably a few days later.

Ethan Turner asked: Your WeChat name is from the KartRider team, right? ‘Crazy undefeated legend’?

Brian Brooks: No.

Brian Brooks: It means ‘comes from.’ There’s no suffix because I grew up in an orphanage before I was six.

Henry Clark smashed his bowl on the spot.

This chapter is all red envelopes~

Chapter 4: Scoundrel · Bowed Waist

Brian Brooks, this person, is hard to define.