Z Generation Love Theory

Chapter 2 There are so many beautiful things in the world 1
When you think of September, what comes to mind? Typically, it's the beginning of autumn, the changing colors of the trees, the season of harvest. But for me, September marks the beginning of my freedom. I think some people understand what it means to a restless 150-year-old boy to attend boarding school in a city 16 kilometers away from home.

I don't know when it started, but the excitement and anticipation of entering a new school has completely replaced the uneasiness and anxiety I felt facing unfamiliar surroundings and people three years ago. Back then, I'd still play it cool with my new roommates, until my mom beamed, "This is your first meeting. This is my son, Pu Zelin. You two will be good friends from now on. Please help each other!" My cool-guy persona was completely shattered. Maybe it was the teenage hormones, but I didn't feel quite as scared to leave home this time. Or maybe it was because I'd really pushed myself hard over the past year, transforming from a restless "sleepy boy" ranked in the top ten of my class to a restless "sleepy boy" who was at the top of the class. I was able to get into this prestigious high school, renowned for its strict discipline, just to slap the face of my former homeroom teacher, who used to make me stand five days a week. She'd remind me of whether I was "the one who got criticized or the only one who got into the best school," and make her question her own educational philosophy and the way she judged and managed students. Yes, I'm that treacherous. 'I deserve it!!!' Of course, this is another story of a young boy.

My mother was also particularly happy that day. She had a big smile on her face as she sat in the car taking me to school. After all, in the past three years, the news she could hear about me was either "my grades are okay and stable", "I have a tendency to fall in love with a certain girl", "I was caught by the security guard for ordering takeout and was criticized by the whole school", "I led classmates in a fight", "I get up too late and am always late", "I even learned from the street guys to get earrings and perm my hair"... The news of "my son's good grades" that was vaguely revealed in the casual conversations with the aunts finally had substantial evidence.

But then my mom turned around and said to me with a worried look on her face, "Zelin, you need to be more outgoing and talk more in your new school so you can make more friends. I'm worried that you're too introverted and won't be able to play with your classmates." If possible, every time this happens, I want to roll my eyes. I don't know when it started, but in the eyes of my family, I was labeled "introverted." When I tell my friends about it, they all look incredulous, "Huh? You? Introverted?"

The sunlight from the car window filtered through the leaves, hitting my face. Light and shadow slid past me at such a rapid speed that I couldn't open my eyes. With the help of the summer heat, I said with a hint of impatience, "Mom, I know. Don't worry."

"Oh! You've come so far to study here. If something happens to you, we won't be able to get here in time. You can't even go home for a good meal on weekends. If I had known earlier, I would have continued at my original school. They even promised you a place in the Tsinghua or Peking University program."

"I don't want to stay there. Look at how great this school is. The campus is big and beautiful, the dormitories have air conditioning, and the admission rate is amazingly high."

"Bullshit, I think you're just looking at other people's schools because they have better conditions. And most importantly, they're far away from home so you can hang out with your classmates on weekends. I'm telling you, I bought you a new phone anyway, so from now on, you have to call me on weekends to tell me what you're doing. Don't go to those messy KTVs or internet cafes or anything like that. They have all kinds of people there, and it's very dangerous."

"Oh, how could an introvert like me go to a place like that? I must be studying hard at school."

"Well, that's better. You have to call me every weekend anyway."

……

After a series of back-and-forth exchanges, I finally arrived at the alley in front of Mingyao Middle School... in this midsummer heat so hot it would burn a kitten's bottom. It was incredibly crowded: parents, students, and street vendors, all asking for prices and buying school supplies. Everyone's sweat-soaked clothes clung to their backs, exuding the purest human scent. We had no choice but to park our car and walk through to the school.

Checking my class placement and registering for class were all done in one go. There was a small hiccup, though. When I discovered I was second in the class, narrowly missing admission to either Peking University or Tsinghua University, I dramatically plopped down on the floor in front of my future homeroom teacher. I didn't really feel any regret, but at the time, I felt a surge of a desire to perform. I felt like this would create the impression of someone who "struggles to rise above setbacks."

Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Duan, immediately stood up and comforted me, "It's okay. You're quite good to be admitted to our Rocket Class. If you work harder in the future, you may not be worse than those students in the Tsinghua and Peking University classes."

"Okay, teacher, I will work harder." He patted his butt and stood up, looking determined, but he was secretly happy in his heart.

(End of this chapter)