A perfect score on the college entrance exam? The Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng has astonis

The next morning, Su Wanci sent a message to Chen Mo.

It's a screenshot of a map, with a place marked with a red circle—West Lake in Hangzhou.

The caption read: "I want to go here."

Chen Mo was brushing his teeth when his phone screen lit up. He looked down at it and saw toothpaste foam still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

He typed two words with the hand that wasn't holding a toothbrush: "Okay."

Su Wanci replied instantly: "Aren't you going to hesitate even for a moment?"

Chen Mo typed two more words: "No need."

Su Wanci sent a meme of someone so happy they were spinning around.

Then he sent another message.

"So I bought the ticket? High-speed rail, two and a half hours."

"OK."

Give me your ID number.

Chen Mo sent over his ID number.

Half a minute later, Su Wanci sent a screenshot of the ticket purchase.

Two seats side by side, by the window.

She chose the side by the window, and he sat next to her.

This is her habit every time she buys tickets, and it has never changed.

11:00 AM.

The two people stood at the entrance of the high-speed rail station.

Su Wanci was carrying a sky-blue backpack.

It's bulging and puffy.

I packed two changes of clothes.

A folding umbrella, a pack of wet wipes, a bottle of sunscreen spray, a power bank, and two data cables.

Chen Mo was carrying a black backpack with only a change of T-shirt inside.

An unopened book and those two bank cards.

Su Wanci noticed that his bag was flattened like a pancake and couldn't help but ask.

"Is that all you brought?"

"That's enough," Chen Mo said.

"Buy whatever you need when it arrives."

Su Wanci glanced at him.

Remembering that he is now a multi-millionaire, he swallowed the rest of his sentence.

She was pulling her suitcase.

Yes, she also has a pink, 20-inch suitcase.

It was filled with things she "might need".

He followed Chen Mo into the station.

On the high-speed train, Su Wanci sat by the window.

Chen Mo sat next to her.

The scenery outside the window changed from the city to fields, from fields to hills, and from hills to tunnels.

Each time she entered a tunnel, Su Wanci would close her eyes and open them again after the tunnel was over.

Chen Mo asked her why.

She said, "There's a wind in the tunnel, and it makes my eyes dry."

Chen Mo did not expose her.

He knew she wasn't afraid of the wind blowing into her eyes, but rather of the dark.

From childhood to adulthood, she has always closed her eyes when entering a tunnel; this has never changed.

Two and a half hours later, at Hangzhou East Railway Station.

As the two stepped out of the station, a humid, warm wind hit them, carrying the sticky, pleasant warmth typical of southern cities.

Su Wanci took a deep breath and said something that made Chen Mo both laugh and cry: "I've finally left the province."

"You've never been outside the province before?"

"No," Su Wanci said.

"The furthest I've ever been is to my aunt's house in the next city; I've barely even taken the high-speed rail a few times."

Chen Mo glanced at her.

Suddenly, I felt that she looked like a high school student today.

It wasn't because she looked like her, but because of the light in her eyes.

That's the kind of light only people who are traveling far from home for the first time see; it's so bright it's almost blinding, but it's beautiful.

He helped her carry her suitcase from the exit to the subway station, and then from the subway station to the hotel by West Lake.

The hotel was booked by Su Wanci last night; it's the highest-rated one on Ctrip, a four-star hotel with a lake view.

Her hand trembled slightly when she placed the order.

It wasn't that she was worried about the money; it was that the phrase "lake view room" seemed too far out of reach for her.

When she used to stay in hotels, she only cared about one thing: whether there was a window.

After checking in, the two put down their luggage, left the hotel, and walked towards West Lake.

Su Wanci walked ahead, her steps so fast it looked like she was about to snatch something, while Chen Mo followed behind, leisurely.

He took out his phone behind her, opened Douyin (TikTok), and started a live stream.

The words "Chen Mo has started a live stream" appeared the moment he clicked the "start" button.

In less than 30 seconds, 100,000 people flooded into the live stream.

The barrage of comments surged in like a burst dam—not one by one, but layer upon layer, until the faces on the screen were no longer visible.

"Mo Shen is streaming now???"

"Am I seeing things???"

"I just received a notification and I thought it was a fake account!"

"West Lake??? Chen Mo is at West Lake???"

"Who is that girl next to her? Is she the Goddess of the Luo River???"

"Definitely! Look at the distance between them as they walk; they're not just ordinary friends!"

Chen Mo didn't look at the comments; he simply held his phone up in front of him, pointing the camera at West Lake.

Su Wanci walked two steps ahead of him, unaware that he was live-streaming, focused only on looking ahead.

The surface of West Lake was larger, brighter, and quieter than he had imagined.

The sunlight spread across the water's surface, shattering into ten thousand golden scales.

When the wind blows, the scales flow like a golden river.

Su Wanci stopped in front of the broken bridge.

It wasn't because she knew it was a broken bridge, but because there was a crowd gathered in front of it.

Someone is talking, and their voice is very loud, like they are giving a speech.

She tiptoed and peered inside, and saw a middle-aged man in a gray long gown standing in the center of the crowd.

He was holding a folding fan and telling the story of the White Snake.

His voice was melodious and gentle, with a soft, sweet accent typical of people from Jiangnan. He spoke in a way that wasn't particularly passionate, yet it made people hold their breath.

He told the story of Bai Suzhen waiting for Xu Xian on the Broken Bridge for a thousand years, only to receive an umbrella, a rain, and a doomed romance.

Su Wanci stood there, listening, and her eyes reddened.

When the middle-aged man talked about "Bai Suzhen being imprisoned under Leifeng Pagoda, and Xu Xian kneeling outside the pagoda for three days and three nights",

Her tears still fell.

She didn't know why she was crying.

She just felt that—after waiting for a thousand years, this was the ending she got; it was too bitter.

Chen Mo stood behind her, holding up his phone with the camera pointed at the broken bridge and the group of people.

He didn't speak, he didn't speak, he didn't speak.

The comments were urging him on, but he ignored them.

He just watched Su Wanci's back—she stood there, her shoulders trembling slightly, sunlight shining on her.

Her shadow was stretched very long and cast on the stone slabs of the broken bridge.

He suddenly remembered something and handed his phone to a passerby next to him.

"Help me hold it up, facing me."

The passerby recognized him, his mouth forming an "O" shape, but he didn't say anything and took the phone.

Chen Mo took out a pen and a small notebook from his backpack.

Su Wanci slipped that notebook into his bag last night, saying, "Just in case you have an idea."

He turned to a blank page, squatted down, laid the notebook on his knees, and wrote a few lines.

Then he stood up, walked back behind Su Wanci, and read it aloud softly.

Ten years have passed, and we are separated by life and death. I try not to think of you, but I cannot forget you. Your lonely grave is a thousand miles away, and I have no one to share my sorrow with. Even if we were to meet again, you would not recognize me, for my face is covered in dust and my hair is white as frost.

Su Wanci's body trembled violently.

Her tears fell even harder.

...

...

Su Wanci stood there, listening, and her eyes reddened.

When the middle-aged man talked about "Bai Suzhen being imprisoned under Leifeng Pagoda, and Xu Xian kneeling outside the pagoda for three days and three nights",

Her tears still fell.

She didn't know why she was crying.

She just felt that—after waiting for a thousand years, this was the ending she got; it was too bitter.

Chen Mo stood behind her, holding up his phone with the camera pointed at the broken bridge and the group of people.

He didn't speak, he didn't speak, he didn't speak.

The comments were urging him on, but he ignored them.

He just watched Su Wanci's back—she stood there, her shoulders trembling slightly, sunlight shining on her.

Her shadow was stretched very long and cast on the stone slabs of the broken bridge.

He suddenly remembered something and handed his phone to a passerby next to him.

"Help me hold it up, facing me."

The passerby recognized him, his mouth forming an "O" shape, but he didn't say anything and took the phone.

Chen Mo took out a pen and a small notebook from his backpack.

Su Wanci slipped that notebook into his bag last night, saying, "Just in case you have an idea."

He turned to a blank page, squatted down, laid the notebook on his knees, and wrote a few lines.

Then he stood up, walked back behind Su Wanci, and read it aloud softly.

Ten years have passed, and we are separated by life and death. I try not to think of you, but I cannot forget you. Your lonely grave is a thousand miles away, and I have no one to share my sorrow with. Even if we were to meet again, you would not recognize me, for my face is covered in dust and my hair is white as frost.

Su Wanci's body trembled violently.

Her tears fell even harder.

...

...

Su Wanci stood there, listening, and her eyes reddened.

When the middle-aged man talked about "Bai Suzhen being imprisoned under Leifeng Pagoda, and Xu Xian kneeling outside the pagoda for three days and three nights",

Her tears still fell.

She didn't know why she was crying.

She just felt that—after waiting for a thousand years, this was the ending she got; it was too bitter.

Chen Mo stood behind her, holding up his phone with the camera pointed at the broken bridge and the group of people.

He didn't speak, he didn't speak, he didn't speak.

The comments were urging him on, but he ignored them.

He just watched Su Wanci's back—she stood there, her shoulders trembling slightly, sunlight shining on her.

Her shadow was stretched very long and cast on the stone slabs of the broken bridge.

He suddenly remembered something and handed his phone to a passerby next to him.

"Help me hold it up, facing me."

The passerby recognized him, his mouth forming an "O" shape, but he didn't say anything and took the phone.

Chen Mo took out a pen and a small notebook from his backpack.

Su Wanci slipped that notebook into his bag last night, saying, "Just in case you have an idea."

He turned to a blank page, squatted down, laid the notebook on his knees, and wrote a few lines.

Then he stood up, walked back behind Su Wanci, and read it aloud softly.

Ten years have passed, and we are separated by life and death. I try not to think of you, but I cannot forget you. Your lonely grave is a thousand miles away, and I have no one to share my sorrow with. Even if we were to meet again, you would not recognize me, for my face is covered in dust and my hair is white as frost.

Su Wanci's body trembled violently.

Her tears fell even harder.

...

...