As soon as the bell rang, Wan Xiutong and Liu Bowen couldn’t wait to rush out and check the rankings.
At that moment, the two of them were mixed into the crowd, listening to the discussions about the recent math exam.
“So hard! Way too hard!”
“The last three major questions were completely beyond the syllabus—getting a passing grade is already a blessing!”
“I heard that 80% of the students scored below 70, and only two people scored above 130. Jiang Fuyue even got a perfect score! Would she get everything right even if you gave her one of the century’s hardest problems?”
“No joke, that might actually be possible.”
“Who even made this test? So ruthless!”
“……”
Wan Xiutong asked Liu Bowen, “How did you do?”
His face darkened. “…Terrible. Let’s not talk about it.”
“How terrible? I’ll tell you mine first. Ahem… 63.”
Liu Bowen: “Oh, then I did a bit better than you.”
“How much better?”
“By 50 points.”
Wan Xiutong: “……” I suspect you’re playing humble!
“They say this time the questions were made by an outside expert, someone pretty notable.”
“So it wasn’t one of our school teachers? No wonder it was so savage…”
“When are they handing the papers back? Hehe, I want to borrow Goddess Yue’s perfect paper for a peek.”
“Me too!”
“Count me in!”
“Form a line, take a number. I’m number 4.”
“5.”
“6.”
“……”
Meanwhile, in the principal’s office—
“Professor Ming, this is Jiang Fuyue’s math test paper. Please have a look.”
The man sat in a wheelchair. His features were lean, skin pale as if untouched by sunlight for years, but his posture remained upright, his shoulders straight.
He accepted the paper from the principal, his gray-blue pupils stirring slightly, his gaze unfocused as it landed on the test.
Zhong Hao handed over a pair of glasses at just the right moment. “Professor…”
Once he put them on, familiar handwriting entered his sight. Ming Yu ran his fingers greedily and longingly over each number.
It’s really her!
If it were just the handwriting, maybe it could be coincidence—many people have similar script. But the logic and reasoning in the last three problems were unique, impossible to replicate.
Only she could do this!
His hand holding the test began to tremble uncontrollably.
From the principal’s angle, he could see the sudden tension in Ming Yu’s jawline. The calm atmosphere surrounding him seemed to surge with hidden currents.
“Professor Ming…”
“Principal Hu, I would like to meet… this student.”
The principal was stunned.
“Is that alright?”
“O-of course!”
——
Class 3, Grade 12.
“Jiang Jiang, you’re first again! So amazing! The math test was so hard, and everyone struggled, but you still got full marks. How’d you do it?”
Wan Xiutong rested her chin on one hand, gazing adoringly at Jiang Fuyue with stars in her eyes.
Jiang Fuyue pointed to her head, then moved her hands. “Used this, and this.”
Head and hands.
Wan Xiutong: “I’ve got those too, so why aren’t they as useful as yours?”
“Pfft—” Liu Bowen couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe you came with different factory settings?”
Lin Qiao turned her head in a flash and glared at him. “If you can’t say something nice, just shut it.”
Liu Bowen: “?”
Wan Xiutong gave Lin Qiao a sweet smile. Lin Qiao winked back.
Such is the unbreakable bond of girl friendships.
“Sister Yue, Teacher Xu wants to see you in the office.” A boy leaned against the doorframe, peeking inside.
“Okay.” Jiang Fuyue stood and left the classroom.
But when she got to Xu Jing’s office, he said, “It’s not me—it’s the principal. I’m not sure what it’s about. You’ll find out when you get there. Want me to go with you?”
“No need. I can go alone.”
Ten minutes later, outside the principal’s office: knock knock knock—
“Come in.”
Jiang Fuyue pushed the door open. The first thing she saw wasn’t the old principal, but the back of a man sitting in a wheelchair.
He didn’t turn his head at the sound, so she couldn’t see his face.
Yet Jiang Fuyue felt a strange sense of familiarity.
She calmly approached the principal’s desk. “You wanted to see me?”
“Ah? Yes. This math exam was quite difficult, but you still got a perfect score…”
Jiang Fuyue raised an eyebrow.
Was she called in just for that?
“Actually, I asked to see you.” The man in the wheelchair suddenly spoke.
Jiang Fuyue turned her head and finally saw his face clearly. Her pupils shrank and shock flickered in her eyes.
Ming Yu?!
Why is he here?!
And… what’s with the wheelchair? And his eyes—something’s wrong with them too?
“Principal,” Ming Yu had already read everything he needed from the girl’s expression. He looked up at Hu Yongwei through his lenses. “May I speak with… Miss Jiang alone?”
The principal froze.
Even Zhong Hao was surprised.
Hu Yongwei didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked to Jiang Fuyue for her opinion.
He fully respected the student’s wishes.
If she didn’t want to, he would reject Ming Yu’s request outright.
But Jiang Fuyue nodded slightly—she agreed.
So the old principal and Zhong Hao exited the room, leaving the space to the two of them.
In the quiet room, the wall clock ticked softly.
Their gazes met, yet neither spoke.
After an unknown amount of time, the man broke the silence—
“I know it’s you, Mingyue.” His tone was certain, gaze firm. Beneath the calm, joy trembled, barely restrained.
He said, “I’ve confirmed it. There’s no mistake. Even though your appearance has changed, your figure is different, even… your age—but I know, you’ve come back.”
His gray-blue pupils, refracted with tears, seemed to finally refocus.
And in front of him, she was the only point of focus.
What he saw, what he thought, what his soul clung to—his entire being was tied to her.
He reached out with a trembling hand, eyes full of hope, yearning to once again feel her warmth.
Jiang Fuyue didn’t move. Her clear eyes studied him, emotions unreadable.
Ming Yu kept his hand outstretched, stubbornly refusing to pull it back.
It was like a silent standoff.
One wanted to reach forward; the other remained still.
Finally—
A soft sigh slipped from Jiang Fuyue’s lips. She stepped forward and gently took his hand. “Why go to such lengths?”
The next second, he gripped hers back. “You’re admitting it?”
Jiang Fuyue curved her lips. “Didn’t you say you were already certain? Does it matter whether I admit it or not?”
“Of course it matters! My confirmation is my stance. Your acknowledgment is yours.”
Whether you want to recognize me, or not.
“You…” Jiang Fuyue frowned. “You don’t seem the least bit surprised?”
A person dead for twenty years, now standing alive before you—shouldn’t anyone be shocked or even scared?
But he was strangely calm.
Ming Yu said simply, “I was surprised.”
But during the process of confirming it, that surprise gave way to excitement.
She’s alive—this belief had sustained him all the way from the northwest to Linhuai.
For a moment, he’d hesitated.
What if it wasn’t her? What if everything was just his wishful thinking?
If the heavens gave him hope, only to snatch it away again in Linhuai—he would rather never have come!
After endless torment and internal struggle, he came.
Fortunately, fate was kind.
The moment she walked through the door, the weight on his heart finally eased—
It was her.
“You being alive—means more than anything.”
Jiang Fuyue was momentarily dazed.
The same words—Ye Qianji, Niu Chunhua, Ling Qingzhou, and Yi Hansheng had all said them.
None of them asked how she survived. They were just overjoyed and grateful that she did.
“Ah Yu… these years… have you been well?”
His eyes welled with tears again. The gray-blue pupils, washed clean, still lacked color.
He replied, “Mingyue, I haven’t been well. Not at all.”
The next second, he let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, resting his face against her stomach—like a child who’d been lost for too long and finally found home.
Soon, a wet warmth spread silently.
Jiang Fuyue stiffened.
He… cried?
“Ah Yu…”
“I’m sorry. Back then… I failed to protect you.”
If he had the power to resist his family, if he hadn’t left the imperial capital—would she have been safe?
Twenty years.
Not a single moment had passed without guilt or regret.
They say time heals all wounds.
But for him, time was like a corrosive acid—unable to heal, only worsening the damage, leaving the wound festering and inflamed.
More than once, Ming Yu had thought: If she can’t come back, then maybe I should go to her. Isn’t that fair?
“Thank heaven… you came back…” He tightened his arms around her, like holding onto the most precious thing in his life.
——
Ming Yu has found her. Wuwuwu…
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This reunion broke my heart.
The most heartbreaking thing is that they cared for her so much (and, in his case, to a harmful degree), but if she is affected, she doesn’t show it. I know that’s just how she is, but it makes me wanna shake her sometimes.
Translator, I can’t recall…is Ming Yu her disciple?
His family seems to be an issue. I wonder if they harmed in. If so, we got a new mission!