Yan Zizheng started learning the cello at the age of four, which was an instrument carefully selected for him by his mother after much consideration.

Over the past decade, his skill level has long surpassed his age. He is the youngest cellist in the city symphony orchestra.

After his mother passed away, he had been negligent in practicing. Occasionally, when he took out the guqin to wipe it, he would play for a while, but as soon as memories of certain pains accumulated, he would quickly stop.

Last night, the band manager Sister Dong notified him that they had a performance. Today, she came to pick him up at school without any hesitation. He felt too embarrassed to decline.

It was a visit by a provincial-level leader, and suddenly there was this impromptu performance. I heard that the originally scheduled leader had to change due to some unexpected circumstances, so the person in charge of reception adapted on the spot and transformed the stage play into a concert.

The notified members of the band all rushed to participate. There were around thirty to forty people, ranging in age and having different professions. With their understanding developed over long-term collaboration, they gathered together once everyone had arrived and rehearsed only twice before getting ready to go on stage.

Yan Zizheng sat on a chair, with the cello standing between his legs. As he waited for the other members to take their positions, his gaze drifted from the sheet music to the audience below the stage.

The auditorium was not filled with people, only the front rows were occupied. They were all leaders and officials, with gestures that exuded an air of the officialdom.

Accompanying them were not only local tyrants and gentry, but also Yan Zizheng spotted Gou Gang, who had a big smile on his face, and went over to talk to the leader.

I thought someone who reached such a high position would be at least forty years old, but he is actually a young man in his thirties. He dresses modestly, but his aura cannot be concealed. His face, cold and aloof, only occasionally responds with a faint smile.

The leader, they say, enjoys listening to Dvořák, so the person in charge of the first song chose Symphony No. 9, "From the New World."

All the members of the band stood up and bowed before taking their seats amidst applause. After making some adjustments, they began playing in accordance with the gestures of the conductor.

Yan Zizheng played the qin while occasionally glancing down at the audience, as if searching for something.

He identified his target among the several men who arrived later. The sudden surge of anger disrupted his calm demeanor. Back then, he rushed towards that seemingly upright and imposing face in the courtroom, only to be intercepted by security, not even brushing against a single strand of hair. Just like his later life, he was far away from that man, with no connection whatsoever.

Despite their efforts and hard work, their family still lost the lawsuit. They were unable to fight for justice for his mother, which has always been a source of pain for him.

From then on, Yan Zizheng detested people with power. Whether they abused it or used it for good, he hated them all the same.

Yan Zizheng inadvertently slipped a tone while sneaking around, prompting the cellist next to him to give him a subtle hint with their eyes, causing him to refocus his mind.

It seems that the man sitting in the middle really understands music and is an expert, otherwise he wouldn't have pointed out the off-pitch note in the first song after the concert. He said it with a smile, not blaming anyone, just sharing his feelings with fellow enthusiasts. Then he left with the company of the group.

The band members who remained on stage held their instruments as they listened to the criticisms of the person in charge. Fortunately, they did not investigate who had made the embarrassing mistake of playing a wrong note at a critical moment.

Yan Zizheng quickly packed up his things and left, managing to get out of the backstage passage of the studio before the group of middle-aged men with balding heads. As he passed through the parking lot, he saw the car that he would never forget in his whole life.

He didn't know what he was fixated on, and he couldn't do anything, but he still stopped to look at this car, the car that ruthlessly ran over his mother.

The moonlight was not too bright. He stood there motionless, tightly gripping the strap of the cello backpack, with a cold expression and a tense throat.

Hearing the voices coming from over there, he quickly crossed over from the half-withered elm tree wall and walked through the green forest.

Yu Zhaoyu spent too long on that proof question and still couldn't figure it out. The man sitting across from him showed no intention of helping, so he just sat there until school was over.

As a result, Zou Jing continued to sit there and read, while this silent confrontation escalated into a meditation battle. Eventually, Zhao Yu couldn't bear it any longer and surrendered first.

Zou Jing put down the book in his hand and lazily got up. "Continue tomorrow. If you still refuse to participate in training, sit in my office and do exercises until you can't bear it anymore."

After Yu Zhaoyu left, Zou Jing tidied up the desk and put away the exercise book. He found that there were lines drawn with a ballpoint pen on it, and even some strange and unidentifiable patterns.

He put on his coat, turned off the lights, locked the office door, and walked downstairs. He reached the school gate just as the first class bell for evening self-study rang. The security guard came out to close the gate, allowing him to leave before locking it.

Zou Jing stopped and asked, "What's wrong? Why aren't you leaving?" He saw You Zhaoyu standing by the roadside near the school gate, looking down at his phone with a worried expression.

Yu Zhaoyu rarely gave him a straightforward answer: "My wallet is in the classroom, so I can't take a taxi back. The driver and my dad aren't picking up their phones either."

After Zou Jing understood, he sought opinions before reaching into his coat pocket to take out his wallet. He didn't want to act rashly and regret it later: "Can I lend you some money?"

Yao Zhaoyu glanced at Zou Jing. How could he possibly borrow money from others? It was not something he would do. He lowered his head and continued fiddling with his phone. "No need, I can give a red packet to the driver."

Zou Jing nodded and thought to himself, "This kid seems to have finally started using his brain."

When he was about to continue walking, his cellphone vibrated. It was an unfamiliar number labeled as a provincial city. He slid to answer it, but there was no response after several rings.

Zou Jing constantly fed Yu Zhao with curiosity listening.

"It's me."

Finally, there was a response on the other end of the call, but just two words made Zou Jing's whole body stiffen. The swirling and complex emotions were like boiling water, pressing against his lungs, and the suffocating sensation was hard to bear.

Yao Zhaoyu had never seen Zou Jing like this before. He was dumbfounded, as if he had just heard some terrible news, and he stared at him.

The man on the other end of the phone continued, "I've come to your city for work inspection, and only now do I have some personal time. Let's meet up."

Zhou Yu had just wanted to find another place to hail a car when his leg, mid-step, was suddenly startled back by a sudden shout from Zou Jing.

"Why the hell should I see you? Who the fuck do you think you are! We agreed not to have any contact after we parted ways in life and death! You can marry and I can be alone. Since we decided to go our separate ways back then, be a man and keep your word. Don't come back to provoke me again!"

Oh damn, this is a big mess. What the hell is all this nonsense? Zhaoyu's mind can't keep up with it. Just as an empty car was passing by, he reached out and stopped it, then got in.

It seems that the unlucky one today is not being left behind by Zou Jing for the task, but rather when the car had driven quite far, he asked if it's possible to pay with red packets. The taxi driver refused. Zhaoyu wanted to scold someone, saying, "Turn around and go back to where we were just now."

The driver, with a puzzled look on his face, as if he misheard, asked, "What?"

"I said go back to where I got on the car just now. It's not like I won't give you money. Go back immediately."

So the car turned around and sped off. Zhao Yu leaned out of the window, searching for Zou Jing's figure, but the person who had been loudly cursing just moments ago was nowhere to be seen.

Darn it, Yu Zhaoyu cursed. It seems that he can only pay the driver when he reaches his home.

As a result, the car made a U-turn, and Zhao Yu saw Zou Jing, so he shouted and stopped the car.

The sudden braking made the driver in the rear seat furious and he exclaimed, "Are you going to sit or not? What's wrong with you, kid?"

If this were under normal circumstances, Zhao Yu would definitely have gotten into a fight with the driver. But this time, he didn't. He saw Zou Jing sitting next to the trash can on the side of the road. He hadn't noticed him earlier because his view was blocked by the trash can. Zou Jing had his arms resting on his bent legs, in a particularly insecure posture.

Yu Zhaoyu blinked his eyes, afraid that he might be mistaken. He got off the car and walked over in big strides. The closer he got, the lighter his footsteps became. Finally, he stopped and stood there, with his hands inserted into his pockets.

Yao Zhaoyu had originally come back to borrow money, but the taxi driver drove off because he found him irritating. At first, he was in a very interesting mood and wanted to witness Zou Jing's misfortune. But when he actually approached him, it seemed like sadness enveloped him as well. How heartbroken must a man be to sit on the street in such a despondent state? Yao Zhaoyu pursed his lips and half-squatted down.

"Ah."

Zou Jing's gaze was unfocused, not knowing what he was looking at across the street.

Zhao Yu leaned in to take a closer look, then uttered in a quietly incredulous tone, "How foolish."

Yao Zhaoyu clicked his tongue and said, "It must be cool sitting on the ground."

It's truly unprecedented to hear such words coming from Yu Zhaoyu's mouth, and even more unprecedented, this young man unexpectedly sat down on the roadside curb.

"The day my mom passed away, I sat on the roadside just like you," Yu Zhaoyu said with a slightly laughing tone. "I even cried, cried miserably. Tears just couldn't be controlled, there was no way."

Zou Jing moved the muscles on his face with his hand, saying, "Why did you come back?"

Zhaoyu, exuding a slightly ruffian aura, reached out his hand and said, "Lend me some money."

Zou Jing reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. Just as he was about to ask how much, the little devil beside him unexpectedly grabbed his entire wallet and yanked it away. He looked at the figure walking further away with long legs and said, "You call this robbery!"

Yu Zhaoyu stopped and answered a phone call, then threw the wallet back, saying, "No need, the driver will come to pick me up."

So the two of them were standing a few meters apart, one sitting, one standing, one looking dumbfounded, one playing with their mobile phone.

A car arrived after about ten minutes and took Zhaoyu away.

He sat in the car and asked where his dad had gone and why he hadn't been answering the phone. Only then did he find out that his dad had gone to a concert with the leaders who often visit the province. Zhao Yu chuckled, knowing that his dad had no clue about music and was simply putting on a show once again.

His dad, a master at connecting relationships from top to bottom, may not have received much education, but he can get along with anyone, from small-time ruffians to high-ranking officials.

This task shall be accomplished by Zhao Yu, the Ironclad Executor.

Rock music can really make one's blood boil. Lin Jinglei sat on the side, eating melon seeds and watching Tang Shan and the others rehearse for over an hour. He also felt his blood surging and wanted to grab a guitar, shake his head, and howl as he played a wild song on it. But he truly didn't know how to play. He was the ultimate musical ignoramus.

These people sat down to rest when they got tired. This band, called 1357, has been mixing together for about two or three years now. They are somewhat well-known among the original bands in the same city, often exchanging skills with various university clubs and professionals in society, and they always participate in some lively events in shopping malls or squares to earn a little money.

The lead singer is called Da Qi, but Lin Jing Lei has never asked for his full name. He only knows that he is a staff member at a nearby car 4S shop, working during the day to wash and repair cars and manage the shop, while at night he hangs around the bar street nearby.

The person opened a can of beer and handed it to Lin Jinglei. Lin Jinglei smiled and waved his hand, saying, "I don't like to drink, it's damn disgusting. I'll give the iced one a try though."

Da Qi looked at the other three band members who were joking nearby, but the words were directed at Lin Jinglei: "Do you want to join us?"

Lin Jinglei flicked away the melon seed shell from his thigh and said, "Stop kidding, I don't understand music."

"You can learn," Da Qi turned his head to look at Lin Jinglei, "It's such a pity that you don't use your good looks to make the girls go crazy. If you really stand on stage, there will be many girls surrounding you, wanting to get close to you."

Lin Jinglei laughed, raising his arm to pat Da Qi on the shoulder. "Sounds tempting, huh?"

Tang Shan walked over and said, "What are you two babbling about? You seem so intimate."

Da Qi: "I said let him learn to play an instrument and join us, then we'll immediately change our name to 13579."

"Tang Shan sneered, 'Yeah, right. Don't bother advising him. All he knows is how to play the harmonica, and he can only play two specific tunes. He has absolutely no interest in music notes and can't read sheet music. He relies solely on memory replication. His brain cells are only destined to die for the sake of codes.'"

Da Qi looked at Lin Jinglei and continued, "I read in a book that experts say mixed-race children are intelligent, especially those of European and Asian descent. They tend to have higher intelligence. You will definitely excel in your studies."

Lin Jinglei sneered and laughed, "You believe what the experts say? That's equivalent to a cop in a superhero movie."

Da Qi: "What's up?"

"There's no use at all," Lin Jinglei shifted his posture as he sat, "And, do you know what's even more bizarre? You're actually reading a book, Da Qi. Are you sure it's not something written in a pornographic novel?"

Tang Shan looked at Da Qi's darkened face and burst into laughter, almost falling off his chair.

"Perhaps," another boy named Kaka from the band joined the conversation, "when it comes to interethnic relationships, the genetic chromosomes of the parents differ significantly. As a result, children are more likely to inherit their parents' dominant genes, making them generally more intelligent."

Da Qi chuckled and said, "You see, Kaka has already said it."

Lin Jinglei clicked his tongue and said, "Alright, enough already. Why do you keep bothering me? If I don't practice, then forget about it."

These few people really dispersed. After walking a short distance together with Tang Shanshun, Lin Jinglei went separate ways. He wanted to play basketball with those middle school students in the residential area downstairs. However, before he even approached, he saw the two groups of people fighting and had no choice but to disappointingly return home.

He thought there was no one at home. As soon as he walked in, there were people sitting in the lit living room – two of them, in fact.

Lin Jinglei frowned for a moment, then pretended not to see and changed his shoes. He picked up the wheat ear that had brushed against his leg and walked towards the room.

Lin Guodong called out to his nephew, "Don't you know how to greet someone? You have no manners."

Ming Miao reached out and patted Lin Guodong's arm, signaling him to let it go.

Lin Jinglei sneered, "It's your problem that you lack manners."

"Come back to me!" Lin Guodong stood up and shouted loudly.

"What are you yelling for?" Lin Jinglei stepped back, "Did I delay you? Should I leave?"

Lin Guodong took a deep breath and said, "Why did you cause a disturbance on the playground that day? Today, I just heard the teacher say that you need to apologize to her as soon as possible."

Lin Jinglei remained composed and calm. He unexpectedly gently hugged the cat and bowed, but his tone still carried that stubbornness, saying, "I'm sorry, Teacher Ming, I'm sorry."

Ming Miao didn't know how to respond and awkwardly laughed twice, saying, "It's nothing, it's nothing."

Lin Jinglei immediately straightened up with a swipe: "Can I go back to my room then?"

"Don't go yet. Mr. Ming has prepared a gift for you."

Lin Jinglei tilted his head and looked at Ming Miao as she handed him a box from the armrest of the nearby sofa. He snorted and said, "What's the meaning of this?"

Lin Guodong: "For the past two days, Teacher Ming has moved in and she specially picked a gift for you."

Lin Jinglei's emphasis is on the first half of the sentence, his expression not looking too good. Is this supposed to win him over? It's the newest model of notebook on the market, ridiculously expensive. This woman is impressive, even understanding his hobbies and preferences so well. She really picked a reliable gift.

However, he couldn't accept it. If he were to take it, it would be tantamount to agreeing to let Ming Miao stay here, which would be betraying his aunt.

"Do you not like it?" Ming Miao asked tentatively.

Lin Jinglei smiled and gently touched the wheat ears he held in his arms. "I really like them, but I can't accept them because I don't like you."

After the young man finished speaking, he left with a departing figure. Ming Miao wore a troubled expression, while Lin Guodong sighed repeatedly.

Lin Jinglei felt uncomfortable in his heart as he returned to his room. His aunt and younger brother had only been gone for a few days, and Principal Lin had already brought someone back. It seemed that he could no longer stay in this home for the time being.

Thinking of this, he quickly pulled out a rolling suitcase from the wardrobe and stuffed a pile of clothes into it haphazardly. He picked it up and left. When he reached the door, he turned back and picked up the wheat ear. Then, at the sound of his uncle questioning where he was going, he slammed the door shut at the fastest speed.

Lin Jinglei took a taxi straight to the Tanghe District. Along the way, Mai Sui meowed incessantly. He was not in the mood to play with the cat anymore, so he stuffed the fluffy ball of fur into his jacket and hat without paying any more attention to it.

Before he arrived at his aunt's house, he sent Lin Tai a text message, telling him that he would be coming to stay for a few days, and asking him to wait to open the door for him.

Upon learning that the two women were not at home to buy things, Lin Jinglei took a taxi rather reluctantly. As his rolling suitcase bounced on the cobblestone road, making a loud noise that sounded quite disturbing, he decided to switch from dragging to carrying it.

He sat on the stone steps, waiting at the entrance. Wheat spikes seemed to be asleep, quietly nestled in his hat.

Yan Zizheng saw someone sitting at the entrance of his house as soon as he entered the alley. The streetlights were not very bright, so he thought it was Shen Ling looking for him again. Upon closer observation, he realized it was a boy. Without taking another look, he assumed it was the neighbor's child who recently moved in.

When he walked closer and took out the key to open the door, he completely froze in place.

Lin Jinglei had already heard someone approaching long ago. The reason he didn't turn around was because he mistook them for passersby. After all, he was waiting for two people.

At first glance, he was startled and let out a muffled sound from his mouth.

'How did you end up here?'

"Why are you here?"

Both of them voiced their doubts at the same time.

Lin Jinglei pointed towards the courtyard and said, "I'm here to find someone."

Yan Zizheng jingled the keys and said, "I live here. Why didn't you go inside to find someone?"

Lin Jinglei stood up and said, "They are not at home."

After Yan Zizheng opened the door, he turned to the side and gestured for Lin Jinglei to come in.

Lin Jinglei lifted the rolling suitcase and stepped over the threshold, thinking to himself that whether he waited outside in the courtyard or inside the house, it would all be the same.

Yan Zizheng locked the heavy iron gate and tilted his chin towards the middle building, saying, "Go inside my house and wait, it's cold outside."

Lin Jinglei is indeed cold. When he sat just now, he huddled up to keep warm. He would rather have style than warmth, wearing only single-layered clothing. He nodded, succumbing to the unknown freezing time, as his aunt and younger brother arrived home at some point.