The Intersection of Past and Present

Youth is a colossal maze, where unexpected turns always lie in wait. For Tô Niệm Niệm, there was a maze named “memory,” and she had spent three long years desperately trying to avoid it. Yet, fate played a cruel joke when the person holding the key to that maze suddenly returned, stepping right into her classroom.

It was a morning at the start of the re-enrollment year, filled with whispers, as the classroom door opened and a familiar name was called: Lục Hủ.

“Isn’t that Lục Hủ? The city’s absolute brightest.”

“He missed the Literature exam in the university entrance test, and now he has to re-enroll? But why does it have to be our class?”

Lục Hủ stood there, tall, composed, and seemingly a complete stranger to the genius student everyone once knew. His eyes swept across the class, lingering briefly on Tô Niệm Niệm, and then he introduced himself: “Hello everyone, I’m Lục Hủ. I hope for your help in the future.”

Niệm Niệm’s entire world seemed to pause. “Why is it him?” – the silent cry in her mind screamed. A flood of memories rushed back: the foolish old declaration that she would marry him, and most importantly, the love letter she had sent without a reply. Three years of silence had been enough to convince Tô Niệm Niệm that she had been utterly rejected. Now, all her efforts to avoid and forget were instantly shattered.

“Sit here, sit by me!” – her seatmate eagerly invited Lục Hủ.

Niệm Niệm almost pleaded inwardly: “If I could go back three years, I wouldn’t have done that stupid thing.”

But Lục Hủ was no longer the Lục Hủ of the past. The latest limited edition Nike sneakers and the Omega watch from last year, worth over 80,000 yuan, instantly drew everyone’s attention. People murmured, acknowledging a harsh reality: “Indeed, we are not in the same league.” Lục Hủ was now a young master, someone belonging to a luxurious world that Tô Niệm Niệm dared not approach.

As she tried to create distance, Lục Hủ chose to sit right at the empty desk next to her, across from Lâm Âm—the beautiful and aloof classmate. “Long time no see,” Lục Hủ said to Lâm Âm, startling Niệm Niệm. “Hello.” This gesture further solidified the thought in her mind: They belonged to another world, and she should stay away.

Development: A Whirlwind of Misunderstandings and Secrets

Lục Hủ’s presence kept Tô Niệm Niệm perpetually tense. She constantly sought ways to avoid him, but fate kept throwing them into awkward situations. Mục Nhiên, an old friend, came to the class to see Lục Hủ. “Lục Hủ, register at the basketball club tomorrow! We’re just missing you!” Mục Nhiên was enthusiastic. Lục Hủ coldly denied him: “Who’s your brother?”

Niệm Niệm felt a brief moment of relief, but Mục Nhiên immediately turned to her, blaming her: “What about you? You just pretended not to know me. Good friends should look out for each other.” Mục Nhiên pulled Lục Hủ closer, trying to salvage the old friendship. However, as they were about to leave, Mục Nhiên turned to Niệm Niệm: “Wait for me, we’ll go together.”

Niệm Niệm shook her head. “He doesn’t go the same way as us anymore. Lục Hủ’s house is a huge villa now.” She knew this because she was Mục Nhiên’s “Aunt Út” – a childhood nickname.

Niệm Niệm was determined to avoid Lục Hủ at all costs, especially the risk of him bringing up the “old confession story” that embarrassed her. On a shared car ride, she deliberately squeezed into the middle, enduring the discomfort rather than sitting next to him. “I’m okay with anything, just as long as I don’t sit next to Lục Hủ.”

Three years of silence had been enough for Niệm Niệm to believe that Lục Hủ was completely unaware of her feelings. She assumed the confession “never existed.” But Lục Hủ suddenly asked her, his tone full of implication: “Tô Niệm Niệm, it’s been three years. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” Niệm Niệm was scared and firmly denied it. “No. Let’s move on… forever and ever.”

The situation reached a peak at the music store. Lục Hủ unexpectedly got off the car with her, saying he hadn’t been back in three years and thought he would say hello to Niệm Niệm’s uncle – the store owner. He wasn’t close to her father, but he still walked in. Here, fate arranged a comical scene. Both of them asked for the limited edition “Peninsula Box Set.” Only one was left. Niệm Niệm saw that Lục Hủ also liked it, so she voluntarily yielded. He took it but paid for it, saying, “Someone already ordered that,” and gave it to Niệm Niệm.

People around them started pairing Lục Hủ with Lâm Âm. “Lục Hủ, the handsome transfer, is dating Lâm Âm.” The rumor spread quickly because they had walked home together after school. The whole school was talking about the “most powerful couple in the school’s history” – one a genius, the other an icy beauty. Even Niệm Niệm’s best friend advised her to “give up.”

Niệm Niệm decided to snoop. She caught Lục Hủ and Lâm Âm meeting in a secluded spot. She clearly heard Lục Hủ say: “If you hadn’t transferred, those conservative people wouldn’t have thought to pair us as school ambassadors or whatever. I wouldn’t have to stand here with you. I hate having contact with boys. That matter must be handled properly.” Niệm Niệm breathed a sigh of relief, realizing they were only dealing with a school-related assignment.

Lục Hủ and Lâm Âm parted ways. He returned the skateboard to Lâm Âm, which was originally hers (but he thought was his), and received the Peninsula Box Set that he had ordered. “Whoever bought that must be a die-hard fan of Jay Chou. Consider yourself owing me a favor,” Lục Hủ said to Niệm Niệm when she appeared. “Okay. Then we are teammates with responsibilities to each other.”

When Niệm Niệm told her best friend about Lục Hủ standing under the streetlight, secretly holding her shadow’s hand (it was just a shadow, but her friend insisted it was real), she was forced to confront the truth of three years ago. In her moment of sincerity, she confessed: “I asked Mục Nhiên to help me deliver the album, and there was… there was also a love letter inside. So Lục Hủ rejected me three years ago.”

Niệm Niệm asked Lục Hủ to analyze the situation: “A person disappears for three years and suddenly reappears, and is very enthusiastic. What’s going on?” Lục Hủ said: “Maybe he likes you.” But Niệm Niệm denied it: “Impossible, he already rejected me.”

Just then, the truth was revealed. Mục Nhiên and another friend came to apologize. “That year, Lục Hủ gave me that album, I really didn’t know there was your paper inside. That day I was playing with Coca and Mentos, and I accidentally tore it, so I couldn’t pass on the phone number. I am guilty.”

Lục Hủ coldly added: “Even if I didn’t know your new address and phone number, you could have called me. Why didn’t he call? He called many times. After that, he went to that school, called every week, but I never received it.” Mục Nhiên confessed: “I asked him to try calling, he remembered your number, clearly remembered every digit.”

The secret was out. It turned out Lục Hủ had never rejected her. Her confession letter was lost. The three years of silence were due to a misunderstanding and a childish accident. Lục Hủ walked over and reached out his hand. “Let’s start over. Tô Niệm Niệm, I’m Lục Hủ. Long time no see.”

However, Niệm Niệm still kept her distance. “It’s true, he and I were never meant for the same world anyway, let’s just pretend nothing ever happened.” Niệm Niệm was facing her own exam issues; she had to transfer back to prepare for the university entrance exam.

Everything changed one evening. Lục Hủ was in Sichuan with his family for business. They talked on the phone with him, reminding him: “Tell Lục Hủ to turn off the lights when he goes out, and be careful.” That night, an earthquake struck.

Climax: The Stormy Night of Adulthood

The tragedy claimed the lives of Lục Hủ’s parents and brother. The family villa was seized and sealed for debt. Lục Hủ’s genius, prosperous life collapsed overnight. “The adults are all dealing with the debt left behind. If the construction capital is cut off, it’s over.” The funeral became a gathering place for debt collectors, shouting and threatening.

Niệm Niệm came and saw Lục Hủ sitting alone, silent, not speaking a word since his return.

Amidst the sorrow, a group of debt collectors barged in. “Don’t think that because they’re dead, the debt is gone… I know your family has insurance money. After you receive the money, immediately bring it to pay my boss. Otherwise, I will help you scatter these ashes.” They even intended to strip the watch from Lục Hủ’s wrist for “interest.”

In the face of danger, Lục Hủ was not afraid. The image of the weak young master vanished, replaced by a mature, decisive man.

“Young master, I heard you study piano? If I just graze your finger, what will be left of the pianist?”

Lục Hủ looked them straight in the eye, his voice firm: “Where do you want to cripple me? Just say it. You don’t need to do it. I’ll do it myself!” He calmly presented a cruel and intelligent reality: “You only want money, right? I don’t have it now, but I have insurance money. Now, you cripple me, and it would be best if you send me straight to the emergency room. By then, all the money my mother paid will be spent on my medical bills, and you won’t get a single dime. Not only that, but your lifelong bad reputation will fall squarely on your heads. I’ve called the police. When they arrive, they’ll determine you laid a hand on me, and you’ll go to jail. By then, the money will be gone, and so will your freedom. Think carefully. I’ll count to three. If you don’t leave, you’re criminals.”

Lục Hủ’s sharp logic saved him. They were terrified and ran away.

Niệm Niệm did not leave him alone. She came to his side, helped him clean up the mess, and burned things his loved ones would be proud of. She held his class-topping test paper and said, “This is your best test paper. Burn this for Auntie. She can brag to others in heaven. My son is the top student in the class, even number one in the school. Then let’s see who dares to laugh at her. Achievement is better than gold.”

When Lục Hủ said in pain: “Niệm Niệm, I don’t have a home anymore,” Niệm Niệm replied simply and powerfully: “It’s friendship. I’ll always be by your side.”

However, Lục Hủ chose to fight his own battle. He started working as an all-purpose game booster at an internet café to earn money. The collapse of his family had pushed him into a moment of forced adulthood, having to “desperately catch up with the pace of life.”

Lý Trần, the old rival Lục Hủ had constantly surpassed in academics and piano competitions for three years, tracked him down. “I heard you’re short on money… You’re not short on this little bit, are you?” He challenged Lục Hủ to a CS match: if Lục Hủ lost, he would have to pay and “have your piano-playing finger taken.”

Lục Hủ, despite his exhaustion, agreed. The match was so intense that everyone thought “there will really be bloodshed today.”

Just as Lục Hủ was about to lose, darkness engulfed the internet café. Tô Niệm Niệm had pulled the circuit breaker. She rushed in, grabbed his hand, and dragged him out of that filthy place, where he had almost lost his future as a pianist. “I’m Tô Niệm Niệm, come with me.”

She took him back to the sealed villa, breaking the fake seal so he could have a clean place to stay and shower. “I probably can’t agree to anything with you right now,” Lục Hủ said. But Niệm Niệm didn’t need a promise. “Please don’t give up on yourself, okay? I have to use a fiercely irritating energy to make you live well.”

They cleaned the house, and together sketched a small future: putting in a sofa, a projector, living by improvisation. Lục Hủ, in his restless sleep, called out his mother’s and brother’s names. “Lục Hủ, I hope you forget me,” he thought silently. But the next morning, he ate breakfast, went to school, and continued to live. “Tô Niệm Niệm, thank you.”

Ending: The Light on the Track

While Lục Hủ was gradually stabilizing, Niệm Niệm ran into trouble. She failed Literature and English, dragging down the entire cohort’s average score. The teacher called her parents, but she wasn’t scared of the discipline, only afraid that her parents had no aptitude for studying, so “inviting them might even lower the scores further.”

Lâm Âm, who had won the shooting championship but was not acknowledged by her father, offered to help Niệm Niệm. “Not everyone is suited for university.” Lâm Âm, revealed to be a professional shooter, began to train Niệm Niệm.

A new character appeared: Thẩm Mạn, a beautiful girl who introduced herself as Lục Hủ’s “Trai Hood,” the daughter of his friend, from Hong Kong. She openly transferred to the class and tried to get close to Lục Hủ, returning his watch and offering to help him find a piano tutoring job in the villa area. Lục Hủ refused, but she persisted, even trying to sabotage Tô Niệm Niệm.

Lục Hủ and Lâm Âm secretly intervened to get Tô Niệm Niệm a reserve spot on the school’s shooting team. During training, Lý Trần came to provoke a fight, but Lục Hủ decisively protected Niệm Niệm, ordering Lý Trần to leave.

Summer arrived, and Niệm Niệm’s parents went on a trip and arranged for Lục Hủ to stay at her house to look after it with her. Lục Hủ cooked congee with century egg and minced pork for Niệm Niệm, taking care of her. Their relationship gradually transformed from unrequited lovers to comrades, best friends, and family.

At the final competition, Thẩm Mạn, out of jealousy, stole Tô Niệm Niệm’s scope. In the most intense moment, with no scope and no time, Niệm Niệm had to shoot by eye, relying on instinct.

Lục Hủ, who had refused to dine at the Michelin restaurant with Thẩm Mạn, came to the shooting range. He just stood there, watching Niệm Niệm. She closed her eyes, maintaining her breathing. “Shooting relies on the moment, the feeling,” Lâm Âm had taught.

“The final shot.”

A decisive bang. 10.9 points – a perfect bullseye.

Niệm Niệm won. “I shot right through it. Good, right?”

When asked about the secret to her success, Niệm Niệm looked towards Lục Hủ and Lâm Âm, her voice full of emotion: “I used to think shooting was very lonely, but when I met my friends, I realized this path is not lonely at all.”

Lâm Âm was congratulated for achieving the title of “World Number One.” And Tô Niệm Niệm, the rising star of the shooting world, secured her professional athlete qualification and officially became a member of the shooting team. The two friends, in the light of glory, embarked on a new path together, no longer a young master or an ordinary girl, but mature, courageous, and deeply connected individuals.