The arrival of the first practice exams finally instilled an air of tension into the students of Fourth High. The school didn’t simply pull the desks apart in each classroom like they did for regular tests; instead, they mixed students from different classes together.
Jiang Cheng was surrounded by people he didn’t recognize. When he looked to the right, he couldn’t see Gu Fei’s familiar profile, or watch the way he gambled with his answers. He wasn’t used to this.
On the other hand, they were finally using the standard practice exams used across the city, and, having experienced the other set of tests he’d just written, Jiang Cheng felt that these were easier in comparison.
Therein lies the difference. That was the phrase echoing around Jiang Cheng’s mind as he worked through each question.
There were people leaving early for every subject—usually just students who had already given up, who’d only come here to show their face and confirm that they really didn’t know the answers.
Jiang Cheng had time remaining after he finished, but he stayed in his seat and checked his answers over and over until the last second. There was no need to show off at a time like this.
And he was delighted to learn that in the classroom next door, Gu Fei hadn’t handed in his test early, either; he didn’t even roll the dice on the questions this time.
“Really?” Jiang Cheng looked at him.
“Really,” Gu Fei said. “Have to give my boyfriend some credit, don’t I? Since I studied with you for so long, it’d be embarrassing if I still had to guess for each question.”
Instead of replying, Jiang Cheng only narrowed his eyes.
“Am I wrong?” Gu Fei smiled. “The way you’re on my back day in and day out, making me quiz you…”
Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue, but he still didn’t say anything.
“Did you think you were being subtle?”
“Uh-huh.” Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say. Judging by Gu Fei’s reaction, he seemed to have noticed it a long time ago, but he didn’t seem displeased about it. Nonetheless, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t admit to it so easily. “It’s normal to ask you to quiz me.”
“Cheng-ge.” Gu Fei reached his arms up into a stretch and rotated his shoulders. “The way you tiptoed around me—”
“When did I ever tiptoe?” Jiang Cheng interjected.
Gu Fei insisted on finishing his sentence. “The way you tiptoed around me was really touching.”
Jiang Cheng paused for a moment, then sighed. “Fine, so I was tiptoeing. After all, you’re my boyfriend. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“It’s a special feeling,” Gu Fei said, slinging an arm over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, “to be held so carefully in someone’s heart like that.”
Jiang Cheng nodded in agreement. “Yes.”
Gu Fei was talking about himself, but Jiang Cheng felt the exact same way. Taking up that space in someone’s heart was no easy feat. It was something everyone longed for; some might wait their whole lives and never get it.
“Your score from before…” Gu Fei pulled out his phone. “Wanna see it now?”
“Yeah.” Gu Fei’s words pulled Jiang Cheng back to earth. “Is it over 630 points?”10
Gu Fei didn’t answer right away. “Pan Zhi really can’t be trusted, but 628 is already a great score,” he said, his brow furrowed. He tapped play on the voice message Pan Zhi had sent and put the phone next to Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Here, listen.”
“Lao-Yuan told me, ‘You’re all just halfway through your study recaps, anyway. We marked all the tests to a stricter standard this time, including yours. I checked the rankings, and his total score places him in fourth at our school, and he’s only two points behind third place. Compared to his performance before, he’s stayed about the same—he hasn’t regressed. Also, he didn’t get any marks deducted for neatness this time. Do you remember what absolute shit his handwriting used to be? Well, it doesn’t look like shit anymore! He’s even been practicing his handwriting while he studies. Don’t you think that’s really impressive of him?’”
Jiang Cheng tutted and handed the phone back to Gu Fei.
“See?” said Gu Fei. “The tests were already on the hard side, and they were strict with the marking, too.”
“How many points did first place get?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“637.”
Jiang Cheng tutted again. After a while, he tutted yet again—then, as if a dam had been opened, he clicked his tongue all the way from the classroom to the front gate of the school for a total of at least eighty times. In the end, his mouth was nearly dried up.
“Is your tongue okay?”
“That’s a whole ten points’ difference,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Nine points,” Gu Fei corrected him.
“Nine points. That’s a whole question’s worth.” Jiang Cheng furrowed his brows. “Therein lies the difference.”
“You have more than two months left.”
“Onward!” Jiang Cheng flung his arm up.
Gu Fei might have been the only one who understood the weight behind Jiang Cheng’s “onward!”
After all, Jiang Cheng’s total score for his first practice exam at Fourth High had been 648—number one in the whole city. Lao-Xu, standing at the lectern, had been so excited that his lips trembled.
But Gu Fei knew that to Jiang Cheng, their tests weren’t that difficult. Even the best high school in their city couldn’t compare with Jiang Cheng’s old school. By Jiang Cheng’s standards, he still needed to keep charging forward.
It was a very simple word, but to put it to action was a little scary. Gu Fei thought that Jiang Cheng was already working very hard; he didn’t know that he could go even harder. As a matter of fact, Jiang Cheng hadn’t increased the time he spent on studying every day, but it was clear that he was more focused than ever; the number of times he snuck glances at Gu Fei throughout their study sessions had decreased dramatically. Even while he ate his midnight snack, his eyes stayed glued to the books.
Gu Fei was stunned at this development, and it also made him feel proud. And yet, slowly, with each passing day, more and more of that pride turned into anxiety.
Therein lies the difference. That was what Jiang Cheng had said.
To Jiang Cheng, the difference was those points. But to Gu Fei, the difference was much more complicated.
If he were to track down the source of that difference, he’d have to delve deeper and deeper until he hit a realization that the difference had been right there from the very start.
These differences, along with the passage of time and the changes in the environment and people around them, would only grow bigger. It might take one year, two, or three…but in the end, it might develop into a vast chasm that could never be filled by the mere affection of two high schoolers leaning on each other.
“Gu Fei.”
“Hm?”
Jiang Cheng smiled. “Will you massage my neck?”
Gu Fei walked up behind him and gently kneaded the back of his neck. “Here?”
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng put his head down. His hand was back on the book. “That feels good.”
“Why don’t you rest for a bit?”
“I’m resting now.” Jiang Cheng drew his hand back. After a moment, he cocked his head and said, “Hey, I have a question.”
“What?” Gu Fei stroked his cheek with a finger.
“Are you in a bad mood lately?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“Am I?” Gu Fei smiled. “You’ve got time to think about that kind of thing?”
“Aren’t you?” Jiang Cheng turned back to look at him.
“No,” Gu Fei said. “I’m just…a little nervous.”
“Nervous about what?” Jiang Cheng asked, a little lost.
“I’m not exactly sure.” Gu Fei thought for a moment. “I guess…I’m also about to take the university entrance exams, you know?”
“Shit.” Jiang Cheng paused for a beat, then turned away, unable to stop laughing. “Why does it sound completely unbelievable coming from you?”
Gu Fei laughed along with him. “Then what would you believe?”
“You saying you like me.” Jiang Cheng leaned his head back against Gu Fei’s stomach. “That, I believe.”
“I like you.” Gu Fei looked down at him. “Super-duper thunderbolt-and-lightning much.”