Huayu: That year, I withdrew from the Super Boy competition.

Zhou Qiao stood at the door and glanced at him to make sure he was indeed getting dressed and not going back inside, before turning around and walking out.

"I don't know what you've been doing all day," her voice drifted in from outside, "Just wait until the college entrance exam, then let's see if you still dare to act like this..."

Su Wei sat on the edge of the bed, stunned for two seconds.

Her hair was a mess, like a bird's nest, and her eyes were half-open and half-closed.

He was the embodiment of the Chinese character for "trapped" in a large, enigmatic way.

He yawned again.

Then, finally, I slipped on my slippers and shuffled towards the bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom, at least my face looked somewhat like a living person.

He glanced around the living room; there were two small dishes and a bowl of porridge on the dining table, but he didn't see his father.

"Mom, where's Dad? He's not up yet?"

Zhou Qiao poked her head out from the kitchen, rolled her eyes, and her expression could be translated as "You have the nerve to ask others."

"You think your dad's as talkative as you? He's already at work. He said his research institute got an urgent assignment and he's very busy."

Su Wei simply said "Oh" and didn't ask any further questions.

His father was an engineer at the Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group Research Institute, specializing in fighter jet design.

This job sounds impressive—it involves building airplanes, a vital national asset.

But to the mother and son, he was a father and husband who were always away on business trips, often working overtime, and so busy that they were practically invisible.

Su Wei was already used to it, and so was Zhou Qiao.

At most, they might mutter a couple of things like, "If your dad ever comes home for dinner, the sun will rise in the west," but they'll still release him.

Su Wei picked up her schoolbag and keys from the table and bent down to change her shoes.

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

Zhou Qiao's voice drifted from the kitchen.

"Buy it on the way."

"I've finished cooking, would you like some?"

Zhou Qiao peeked out, but before she could finish speaking, the door clicked open and closed again.

She looked at the empty living room and muttered angrily:

"This kid, he runs off before he's even finished speaking—just like his dad."

He laughed after saying that.

In July, the morning breeze in Chengdu is cool on the face, neither too hot nor too cold, just right.

The leaves of the plane trees by the roadside rustled in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering golden fragments on the ground.

He got into his car and turned into the street he had walked hundreds of times before, with practiced ease.

The tires rolled over the shadows of the trees on the road, passing them section by section.

At the usual spot near the school gate, the steamer at the breakfast shop is billowing out white steam.

Su Wei squeezed the brakes and braced herself on one foot: "Boss, the usual."

"Okay!"

The proprietress worked quickly and efficiently, finishing the entire setup in just a few seconds.

The soy milk was served in a plastic bag with a straw inserted, and it was still hot to the touch.

Su Wei took a bite of the steamed bun, then took out her phone and checked the time—7:03.

It's still early.

So he simply stopped rushing, sat on the plastic stool at the entrance of the breakfast shop, ate a steamed bun and a sip of soy milk slowly until he finished before standing up.

At this time, most students are still running on the road.

His leisurely pace contrasted sharply with that of the other students.

Su Wei got back on her bicycle and rode towards the school.

Chengdu Shude Middle School, Guanghua Campus.

When he arrived at the classroom door, most of the seats were already occupied.

The morning reading session hadn't officially started yet, but the air was already filled with the rustling of pages turning and the low-pitched sounds of reciting.

Class teacher Feng Tuo is standing on the podium.

This man's surname was Feng, and his given name contained the character "陀" (tuo), so the students secretly called him "陀陀" (tuo tuo).

He was in his forties, taught mathematics, and always had a stern face. When he stood on the podium, he would cross his arms and scan the entire room expressionlessly.

The aura emanating from him was so powerful that, without exaggeration, the forty-odd people below didn't even dare to turn the pages of their books too loudly.

Su Wei peeked halfway out from the doorway.

Before he could even call out "Report!", Feng Tuo had already spotted him, glanced at him, and nodded slightly, indicating that he was allowed to pass.

Su Wei quickly slipped inside, walked to her seat, put her backpack on the table, and pulled out a chair to sit down.

Before I could even sit down properly, my deskmate Wu Can came over.

Wu Can, how should I put it, is the kind of person who can't sit still.

At this moment, his exaggerated facial expressions were as rich as if he were performing a pantomime, his lips opening and closing silently conveying a message that Su Weiyi could not decipher in a short time.

Su Wei glanced at him expressionlessly and ignored him.

Just kidding, our teacher Feng Tuo is still standing on the platform. To interrupt at this time would be suicide.

He took out his Chinese textbook from his schoolbag, randomly flipped to a page, and placed it in front of him.

Wu Can, standing to the side, was so anxious that she scratched her head and poked him twice with her pen.

Su Wei gave him a look, indicating that he could talk about it later.

Then, staring at the textbook, his gaze gradually lost focus.

After withdrawing from the competition, Su Wei became the center of attention.

To be precise, it's too big.

It's so big it's a bit annoying.

The first to approach us were agents from major entertainment companies.

I don't know where they got their contact information.

Their attitudes were all incredibly sincere, and their offers were all incredibly tempting.

Su Weitong replied: Not interested.

After being refused many times, the other party eventually stopped.

After all, the entertainment industry is never short of newcomers, and no agent will keep doing the same thing—trying to get a warm welcome but getting a cold shoulder.

Another problem is at school.

In the first few days after he returned to Shude, every day during breaks, younger students would run over from other teaching buildings and block the door of his classroom, peeking inside.

Some people came to get his autograph, and the notebooks they handed over were all sorts of things.

Some came to find out the inside story of the withdrawal from the competition, "Senior Su Wei, is that contract that's being talked about online real?"

Some people do nothing but come to take a look and see what the person on TV looks like in real life.

The most outrageous thing was the love letter.

His drawer was stuffed with several colorful envelopes, some even folded into heart shapes.

While he wasn't looking, Fatty Wu opened a letter and read it aloud in front of several boys—

"Su Wei, I've been following you ever since you sang your first song in the Chengdu competition..."

He was reading it when Su Weiyi snatched it back and almost tore it up on the spot.

For the first few days, Su Wei was able to endure it.

Just sign your name, just smile.

Later, I got really annoyed.

Being surrounded by people even when you go to the toilet during breaks is unbearable.

So he never left the classroom except to go to the toilet.

As soon as get out of class ended, he would lie on his desk and pretend to be asleep.

You know what, this trick actually works.

The students' enthusiasm came and went quickly.

Even the most curious person can't withstand seeing a living person every day for more than a week.

The number of people gathered at the door decreased from a dozen to a few, and then to zero.

The hype will eventually fade away if you don't create it.

Now he is finally living a normal high school life.