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

The moment those four words came through the receiver.

Teacher Zhang's brain felt like it had been struck by lightning.

She opened her mouth, and her first reaction was not joy, but a huge, overwhelming sense of relief—the stone that had been weighing on her all day crumbled into dust in that instant.

"but,"

Chen Mo continued, "I have one condition."

Ms. Zhang's heart leaped into her throat again. She instinctively gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"Please speak."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Su Wanci," Chen Mo said, uttering a name.

Teacher Zhang was stunned for a moment.

Of course she knew who Su Wanci was.

This afternoon in the principal's office, there was the girl sitting in the corner, the one Chen Mo asked, "Which university do you want to go to?" She had her hair tied in a low ponytail, wore a white shirt, and was as quiet as a mimosa growing in a corner.

"She is my... childhood friend."

Chen Mo's voice remained calm, but beneath that calmness lay a very thin layer, like water flowing beneath ice: "Her estimated score is around 660. If Peking University can admit her, I will go to Peking University."

Teacher Zhang did not speak.

Her mind was racing—Su Wanci, 660 points, Peking University, admitted.

These words spun rapidly in her mind, arranging and combining to create countless possibilities.

A score of 660 is not enough to get into Peking University through the normal admission process.

But what about the special recruitment quota?

What about a special program?

What about the overall evaluation?

The corners of her mouth turned up.

"Chen Mo," her voice regained its professional composure, but beneath that composure lay a barely concealed, almost overflowing smile, "I agree to your conditions."

"Can you make that decision?" Chen Mo asked.

Teacher Zhang smiled.

This time he genuinely laughed, not in a professional way, but with a hint of smugness, as if to say, "You underestimate me."

"I'll call the dean right now. Don't worry, Peking University will definitely agree to this condition."

"Okay, then I'll wait for your news."

The phone hangs up.

Teacher Zhang put her phone on the table, leaned back in her chair, looked up at the ceiling, and let out a long breath.

Then she laughed.

The laughter was very soft, but in the quiet room, it sounded like the sound of a seed sprouting from the soil—small, yet full of power.

She picked up her phone, found the dean's number, and dialed it.

I answered the phone after it rang once.

"Dean, Chen Mo is calling."

"How so?" The dean's voice was as tight as a string stretched to its limit.

He said he was going to Peking University.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a loud "Okay," as if squeezed out from the chest.

The word "good" conveyed a sense of relief and relief, as well as a sense of certainty that it was going to succeed.

"But he has one condition."

The dean's voice immediately tightened again: "What are the conditions?"

"He has a childhood friend who is estimated to score around 660. He hopes that Peking University can admit that girl as well."

There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone. Three seconds later, the dean's voice came through, carrying an incredulous "That's it?"

"That's it?"

"This is it."

"Say yes."

"Dean, that girl's score—"

"I said I agreed." The dean's tone was resolute, like a general making a decision on the battlefield that required no one's questioning.

"660 points is enough for the special admission quota. Even if it's not enough, there are other ways. We must win over this student. His condition is not a burden, but an opportunity."

"Chance?"

"Think about it, I strongly recommend 'Perfect Score in College Entrance Exam? Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng Shocks Everyone!' Go straight to the exciting part. What does Chen Mo's condition mean? It means this girl is very important to him. If we admit this girl, what will Chen Mo think? He'll feel that Peking University is humane and trustworthy. No matter how you look at it, it's worth it."

Teacher Zhang paused for a second, then smiled: "Dean, you're right."

"Alright, call Chen Mo back right now and tell him the terms are fine."

"Then--"

The dean paused for a moment, his voice becoming meaningful.

"Then you should contact that girl's parents and tell them that Peking University welcomes her."

After hanging up the phone, Teacher Zhang found Chen Mo's number in her contacts and dialed it.

The phone rang twice, then I answered it.

"Chen Mo, Peking University has agreed to your conditions."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Thank you, Teacher Zhang." Chen Mo's voice remained calm, but Teacher Zhang could hear the thin layer beneath the calmness—just like when he mentioned Su Wanci earlier, like water flowing beneath the ice.

"You're welcome." Teacher Zhang smiled. "Chen Mo, welcome to Peking University."

After hanging up the phone, Ms. Zhang sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window at the night view of Beijing. The lights in the distance were still the same lights, the traffic was still the same traffic, but her mood was completely different.

She picked up her phone and scrolled to another number in her contacts.

The nickname is "Chen Mo's mother".

She pressed it.

The phone rang four times, then I answered it.

"Feed?" A woman's voice, with a slight southern accent, accompanied by the sound of waves and a child's scream in the distance.

"Hello, are you Chen Mo's mother? I'm Ms. Zhang from the Peking University Admissions Office..."

Teacher Zhang smiled.

"Auntie, congratulations! Chen Mo has decided to choose Peking University, and we warmly welcome him."

On a beach, Chen Ma's phone almost fell into the sand.

She caught it in a flurry, then turned her head to look at Chen's father, who was still drinking beer next to her. Her expression was priceless—her mouth was agape, and her eyes were wide open, like a fish that had been suddenly pulled out of the water.

"Old Chen," her voice was weak, "a call from Peking University."

Chen's beer bottle stopped in mid-air again.

"Peking University again?"

"Um."

"What did you say?"

Chen Ma swallowed hard, her voice so soft it sounded like she was talking about a dream.

She said, "Chen Mo chose Peking University. Peking University welcomes him."

Mr. Chen finally put down the beer bottle.

He put it down very slowly, as if he were placing something fragile. Then he leaned back in the recliner, looked up at the top of the parasol, and the corners of his mouth slowly, very slowly curled up, all the way to his ears.

"That kid," he said, his voice a little hoarse, "that kid..."

He didn't continue. He just stared at the top of the umbrella, at the unbelievably blue sky above it, and at the white cloud that drifted slowly by.

Then he laughed.

Her eyes were red from laughing.

The sea breeze blows from afar, carrying a salty, damp scent, sweeping up all the laughter, cries, and ringing telephones under the parasols and carrying them towards the boundless sea.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Chen Mo hung up the phone, sat on the edge of the bed, and sent a message to Su Wanci.

"Let's go to Peking University together."

The screen displays the words "Sent".

He stared at those three words for a while, then put his phone on the bedside table, leaned against the pillow, and closed his eyes.

The cicadas chirped intermittently outside the window, like a song without lyrics.

He didn't know if he was asleep or not. He only vaguely heard his phone vibrate in that half-awake state.

He didn't go to see it.

But he knew it was a message from her.

...

...