Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

Fang Yuan was awakened by the sound of banging on the door.

"Bang bang bang".

They didn't knock, they smashed the door.

Fang Yuan rolled out of bed, his mind still reeling.

He glanced at the alarm clock—7:20.

It's 7:20 AM during summer vacation.

Who is it?

He dragged his slippers toward the door, rubbing his eyes as he went.

As soon as the door opened, a ponytail nearly hit his face.

Why aren't you up yet?

Chen Xia stood at the door, wearing a dark blue tracksuit, jeans, and sneakers.

His hands were in his pockets.

Fang Yuan leaned against the door frame and blinked.

He remembered.

Before the holiday, he told Chen Xia that he would come to see him after the college entrance examination.

Isn't it a bit too early?

"Come in," Fang Yuan stepped aside, "I'm going to wash my face."

Chen Xia walked in casually, sat down on the sofa, and crossed her legs.

She glanced around the room but didn't say anything.

Fang Yuan went to the bathroom to wash his face and then wiped it haphazardly with a towel.

When she came out, her hair was still wet, with a few strands hanging over her forehead.

He was still wearing that wrinkled white T-shirt.

Chen Xia looked at him: "What did you call me here for?"

Fang Yuan remained silent.

He walked to the desk, pulled a stack of manuscript paper from a brown paper envelope, and handed it to her.

Chen Xia took it and glanced down at the cover—"Flying Colors."

Below is a line of small print: "The Story of Chen Xia".

She looked up at Fang Yuan.

"Did you really write it?" she asked.

"Um."

"It's about to be published."

Chen Xia didn't say anything.

She turned to the first page, lowered her head, and began to read.

The living room quieted down.

Fang Yuan poured her a glass of water, leaned back on the sofa, and looked at her.

Chen Xia read very slowly, turning the pages one by one, her brows slightly furrowed.

Fang Yuan was a little sleepy.

I stayed up late reading a book last night, and my eyelids were drooping.

He leaned back on the sofa and dozed off for a while.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard a noise nearby.

When she opened her eyes, Chen Xia was still watching.

But her eyes reddened.

She bit her lower lip and turned to the last page.

After reading the last word, she closed the manuscript and placed it on her lap.

Then he raised his hand and covered his face.

Fang Yuan sat up straight.

Chen Xia's shoulders were shaking.

She didn't say anything, but her shoulders were shaking.

After a few minutes, Chen Xia lowered her hand.

Her eyes were red, and her nose was red too.

"Fang Yuan".

"Um."

"The Chen Xia you wrote about," her voice was a little hoarse.

"It wasn't me; she got into university in the end."

"If you pass the exam, you can too."

Chen Xia looked down at the manuscript in her hand, her fingers stroking the cover.

"Her mother no longer needs to work several jobs."

"No."

"But I..."

Chen Xia sniffed, turned to the last page of the manuscript, and pointed to the last paragraph.

Her fingers pressed against the paper.

"Chen Xia stood at the university gate and looked back. The road she came from was long, but she made it."

After she finished reading, she closed the manuscript and hugged it to her chest.

"I never thought of that," she said.

"I can become a character in a novel."

Fang Yuan remained silent.

Chen Xia took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

She blinked a few times, holding back the remaining tears.

Then she turned to look at him.

Where do you plan to publish it?

""bud""

"How much is the royalties?" she asked.

"Many"

Chen Xia frowned. "Hmph. You're treating."

"OK."

"Whatever, the person who wrote it is nothing like me anyway."

The two fell silent for a long while.

"But you have to promise me one thing," Chen Xia said.

"What is it?"

"Help me improve my English."

Fang Yuan looked at her: "What was your English score?"

"Monthly exam score 62."

Fang Yuan's lips twitched.

"How did you pass the exam?"

"I guessed," Chen Xia said. "I chose C for all the multiple-choice questions and A for all the reading comprehension questions."

Fang Yuan remained silent for two seconds.

"Starting next week, every Monday during summer vacation," he said.

"Come to my house, it'll take an hour."

"OK."

Chen Xia stood up, stuffed the manuscript back into the kraft paper envelope, and tucked it under her arm.

She walked to the door and glanced back at him.

"Fang Yuan".

"Um."

"Thank you."

Fang Yuan was taken aback.

She got goosebumps all over, but she actually smiled at him.

Chen Xia had already turned and left.

Her footsteps echoed a few times in the corridor.

Then another strange voice sounded from behind.

"What are you looking at?"

Huang Xiaoming.

He was wearing a black T-shirt and his hair was slicked back and shiny.

I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders just a few days after the college entrance exam.

He walked over and just then saw Chen Xia's figure disappear at the top of the stairs.

"Oh my god, why were you so quiet? You scared me!"

"Chen Xia?" Huang Xiaoming glanced towards the stairwell, then turned back to look at Fang Yuan.

"How did she get out of your house?"

"You came to see me about something."

"What is it?"

"none of your business."

"You've obviously been up to no good, Fang Yuan. You can't afford to go astray!"

Huang Xiaoming followed him into the house.

Fang Yuan handed him a stack of manuscript paper. Chen Xia took the other one.

Huang Xiaoming glanced at it—"The Bottom-Ranking Girl," to be featured in the next issue of "Mengya."

He looked up at Fang Yuan.

"Is it about to be published?"

"Um."

"Damn," Huang Xiaoming laughed, "that's awesome."

He flipped through the manuscript, didn't look at it closely, and put it back.

"So you called Chen Xia to come and see this?"

"Um."

"She cried?"

"Um."

Huang Xiaoming leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and looked at Fang Yuan.

"Fang Yuan".

"Um."

"Let's go to Beijing this summer," he said.

"I've finished my exams, and you're on summer vacation too. Let's go to Beijing for a few days, it's on me."

Fang Yuan shook his head.

"I'm not going."

Why?

"No time."

"What are you busy with, a high school student like you?" Huang Xiaoming stared at him.

Fang Yuan pointed to the manuscript paper on the table: "Write something new."

Huang Xiaoming was taken aback: "Didn't you just finish writing one?"

"That one has already been published," Fang Yuan said. "Let's write the next one."

"Write what?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Huang Xiaoming looked at him for a while and then sighed.

"Alright," he said, standing up.

"If you're not going, I'll go myself. I'm just sitting at home doing nothing anyway."

He walked to the door and glanced back.

"By the way, what was Chen Xia's English score?"

"Sixty-two."

Huang Xiaoming grinned: "Then when will you finish making it up?"

"I don't know," Fang Yuan said. "I'll keep working on it until I can pass."

"Damn it, you were eavesdropping on me."

Huang Xiaoming laughed and turned to leave.

Fang Yuan closed the door and walked to the desk to sit down.

He opened a new notebook and wrote the date on the first page.

1996 7 Month 10 Day.

He picked up his pen and thought for a moment.

What should I write?

He wrote many screenplays in his past life—youth, urban, suspense, you name it.

But those things didn't appear until many years after this era.

It's too early for him to write this now.

But he has to write.

can not wait.

Fang Yuan wrote a few words on the paper, then crossed them out.

I wrote a few more words, then crossed them out.

The sound of cicadas could be heard outside the window.

Qingdao in July is unbearably hot.

Fang Yuan put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and stared blankly out the window.