Reborn not to be a beast of burden, I set the rules.

"How far along is your phone?" Ye Ming asked.

Shen Zhiyi's eyes brightened a little more. She picked up the plastic bag at her feet and took things out one by one: "The 256MB RAM chip needs to be ordered, it won't arrive for a week. The touchscreen needs to be custom-made, it'll take three days. The screen cable doesn't fit, we need to find an adapter board. This is all I can take back today..."

Lithium batteries, charging modules, speakers, buttons, and several rolls of solder wire are lined up on the table.

She pointed to the parts, as if introducing her own child: "The lithium battery has a protection board so it won't overcharge. The charging module is a TP4056, cheap, but sufficient. The speaker is 8Ω, not loud, but it makes a sound."

She picked up the small button. "It's made of metal spring, which feels better than conductive rubber, but it's a bit more expensive. I bought two extra, just in case I solder them badly."

Listening to this, Ye Ming suddenly asked, "Aren't you afraid to do all this by yourself?"

Shen Zhiyi's fingers paused for a moment. She lowered her head and slowly put the parts back into the plastic bag one by one.

"I'm afraid," she said, her voice softening again. "I'm afraid of messing up the soldering, afraid the system won't boot up, afraid I won't have anything to show for the competition."

She tied the handle of the plastic bag, placed it at her feet, and looked up at him.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on her face and making her pale skin almost transparent.

"But we have to do it even if we're afraid."

Ye Ming looked at her, and something inside him was gently stirred.

It wasn't the kind of feeling of being blinded by beauty; it was something else entirely, like walking in the dark for a long time and suddenly seeing a fire in the distance—not big, but very bright, burning steadily and quietly.

He suddenly remembered that he had been in the same situation when he was first reborn.

I'm afraid, but I have to do it.

"Do you know what the biggest problem is with your phone?" He put down his chopsticks and looked at her seriously.

Shen Zhiyi paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue.

"It's not about memory, drivers, or system customization," Ye Ming said. "You're treating it like a competition entry."

Shen Zhiyi's fingers rested on the edge of the table, without moving.

"You're thinking about what the competition judges want to see, how to get the system running, and how to make the demonstration smooth."

Ye Ming paused for a moment, then said, "But have you ever considered that what you're making is a mobile phone? It's for people to use."

Shen Zhiyi looked at him, the light in her eyes hadn't faded, but there was a hint of confusion in them.

"The other day on the bus you asked me what a cell phone should look like. I said, a single piece of glass, with the screen on when it's on and a single piece of glass when it's off."

Ye Ming said, "That's the phone I want to use. What about you? What kind of phone do you want?"

Shen Zhiyi remained silent for a long time. Sunlight shifted slightly through the window and fell on the back of her hand.

She pulled her fingers back, clenched them together, and then loosened them.

A small voice inside her said: I just want to make a phone that you would want to use, nothing more.

"I don't know," she said. "I only know that after you said that, I wanted to make it. I looked through the datasheet, drew the schematics, soldered the boards, and wrote the drivers. Every time I got stuck, I remembered the way you said those words. And then I felt that I couldn't stop."

She lowered her head, her voice even softer: "But you're right. I've been thinking about how to get it running, but I haven't thought about what it can do once it's running."

Ye Ming looked at her; sunlight shone on her profile, and the shadow of her eyelashes fell on her cheekbone, delicate and trembling slightly.

She lowered her head, as if something had struck her, or perhaps she was deep in thought.

"If your phone were ever made," he said, "what's the first thing you'd want to do with it?"

Shen Zhiyi raised her head.

She looked into his eyes, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

After a few seconds, she suddenly smiled.

It wasn't the usual shallow, polite smile; it was a genuine smile, with her eyebrows and eyes curving upwards, and even her ears turning red.

"Go to your browser," she said, "and check out your game."

Ye Ming was stunned for a moment, then he smiled too.

My heart was touched by a gentle sentence, and I felt warm all over.

This little girl actually said such things. Doesn't she know that it might cause misunderstandings?

"Then you need to optimize your browser," he said. "Opera Mini will do; it uses cloud compression to save data. Your board has 256MB of RAM, so it should be fine for running lightweight web pages."

Shen Zhiyi nodded, picked up her chopsticks again, and lowered her head to eat her noodles. The noodles were already a bit clumpy, but she ate very carefully, finishing the soup spoonful by spoonful.

Ye Ming leaned back in his chair, looking out the window.

Sunlight filtered through the sycamore leaves, casting patches of light on the ground.

Someone was pushing a bicycle past the alley entrance, with vegetables in the basket and a roll of newspaper tucked into the back seat.

The proprietress was dozing off behind the cash register, and the radio was playing Suzhou storytelling, the lyrics of which were indistinct.

He remembered the first time he saw her; she stood under a sycamore tree, her hair brushing against her chin, and said, "It's okay."

She's still sitting across from him now, still wearing that white shirt, still with those few strands of hair.

But she was different. He noticed her difference too.

It wasn't moonlight, it was the blazing sun. It had been burning all along, he just hadn't seen it before.

Shen Zhiyi finished her soup, put down the bowl, and looked up at him.

The sunlight fell on her face, and her eyes shone brightly.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Finally, he only said one sentence: "Let's go, the car is coming."

Ye Ming stood up and went to pay the bill.

Two bowls of noodles, a flatbread, and a bowl of soup cost less than twenty yuan. The proprietress gave me my change and said with a smile, "Take care."

The two walked toward the bus stop.

Shen Zhiyi walked beside him at a moderate pace, the plastic bag she was carrying swaying back and forth.

Sunlight filtered through the sycamore leaves, falling on her shoulders and swaying gently.

"Your phone," Ye Ming suddenly said, "is finished. Let me see it."

Shen Zhiyi paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," she said.

The school bus arrived at Jiulong Lake at almost 1:30.

Sunlight streamed in through the car windows, falling warmly into the gaps between the seats.

Shen Zhiyi stood up, picked up the plastic bag, and walked to the car door.

She turned her face to the side, and the sunlight shone on her face, making it shine white, as if it had been coated with a thin layer of glaze.

A few strands of hair slipped down from behind her ears, lying quietly against her chin.

She glanced back at Ye Ming, wanting to say something, but then swallowed her words.

In the end, he only said one sentence: "I'm going back to the lab."

Ye Ming nodded: "I'll go to the computer room."

The car door opened, and the two got out together.

She waved to him and turned to walk towards the School of Information Science.

Ye Ming waved and watched her walk away before turning his gaze back to the computer room of the Computer Association.

He touched the envelope in his pocket; it contained five thousand yuan, a thick wad of cash.

The refund statement was folded and tucked into the notebook. Wang Deming's signature was messy, but legible, and that was enough.

Little Ruan, the money is back.

When we got to the bottom of the computer room, the sun was shining down from above, and the shadows were shrunken at our feet.

He went upstairs. The corridor was quiet, but he could hear the sounds of keyboards and noise from the computer room.