ADTCP Ch36part1

After a long, exhausting day, Tao Zhen finally collapsed into a warm, comfortable embrace. Even on the bumpy bus reeking of leather, this sleep was the most peaceful he had ever had.

Maybe it was over an hour, maybe only ten minutes, deep into the night, the bus sped down the streets before stopping at the gates of Nancheng University. The bus stirred to life again. Most students lived on campus, and the moment the door opened, they burst out like birds returning to their nests.

Tao Zhen was still walking at the very end with Zhu Wensheng. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, still basking in that unfamiliar comfort, and smiled as he waved:
“Bye-bye, Ah-Sheng. Go home carefully.”

Under the dim yellow streetlight, the black-haired youth lowered his gaze, gently stroking Tao Zhen’s head with a tenderness in his expression.

That day of volunteering felt like a splendid, fantastical dream. By the next morning, like Cinderella’s magic, it all faded away.

In the 8 a.m. class, Tao Zhen had just sat down with Jia Jia and was still happily chattering about last night’s concert, when the teacher clicked across the platform in high heels, opened the PPT, and announced to everyone that finals week was about to begin.

The news caught everyone off guard, blowing up the classroom into a noisy marketplace. The teacher had to slap the desk hard twice, ordering them to quiet down and open their books to mark the key points.

Nancheng University’s exam period always came earlier than other schools, almost a tradition. Even if students wanted to complain, they couldn’t change it. On the upside, finishing exams early also meant starting vacation earlier.
So, after a few grumbles, everyone accepted it, and soon the classroom was filled only with the rustle of pens and paper.

The next few classes were the same: the teacher entered, turned on the PPT, and the students flipped pages frantically, underlining points. What had once been lazy classrooms now buzzed with an “academic atmosphere.”

Tao Zhen, who had spent most of the semester busy with singing videos, hadn’t been studying properly at all. Now, staring at all those heavy business terms and definitions in his textbook, he was utterly overwhelmed.

Even though this major wasn’t what he liked, he didn’t want to fail any courses in his very first semester of college. So he forced himself to take the incomprehensible texts home and chew through them, one book at a time.

Day after day, he was busy cramming from scratch. He barely had time to meet Zhu Wensheng to record songs, much less to spend time online.

At night, after memorizing a huge list of terms, he finally gave himself ten minutes to scroll on his phone. Checking his account, he found his fans, spoiled by his frequent updates before, were now clamoring for new content:

【Mint Milk Tea is so good: How many days without updates already? Is our ZhenZhibang already acting like a diva? Hurry up and upload something new, okay?!】

【Voucher Explosion: Streamer, let’s play a game, when I wake up, you better have ten videos uploaded!】

【Voucher Explosion: …Streamer, I just woke up.】

【……】

Tao Zhen laughed out loud at the comments. He understood their feelings. They pushed because they liked him. But he really couldn’t record now. So, after thinking, he posted a new lottery update:

【Zhen Zhibang: Sorry everyone, I’m busy with finals right now and don’t have time to record. After exams, I’ll work hard! This post will randomly give 88 yuan red envelopes to 666 people ^_^ lottery link】

Instantly, his fans calmed down, switching moods like Sichuan opera masks. After entering the giveaway, they all assured him that it was fine if he paused videos.

Tao Zhen couldn’t stop laughing at the whiplash in the comments until his face hurt, before realizing how late it was. He hurriedly left the page, but just as he was about to clear notifications, an unexpected friend request appeared.

It wasn’t one of those fan artists who drew him. It was a verified “big V” blogger with nearly 8 million followers, screen name Sunflower, who introduced himself as Qiqi’s friend.

Tao Zhen thought carefully, then realized this matched the tall, thin young man he’d seen at the concert.

According to Jia Jia, his reputation online was mixed, unlike Qiqi, who had nearly spotless reviews. This Sunflower rarely “lowered himself” to befriend small creators. Tao Zhen felt something was off, but remembering his father’s mantra, “the more friends, the more paths,” he still shared his contact.

The next moment, Sunflower, whose real name was Xiang Yan, added him, saying he was a local from Nancheng. Ever since seeing Tao Zhen at the concert, he’d been captivated, and now he followed his videos online.

He claimed he knew many photographers in the local influencer scene, could help Tao Zhen shoot videos, and even bring him along to hang out. For a while, he really did send Tao Zhen several enthusiastic invites to bars and livehouses.

Embarrassed to reject him too harshly, Tao Zhen replied politely, but with exams looming and no time even to record videos, how could he waste nights clubbing with a stranger? Every time, he declined. Eventually, Xiang Yan seemed to get the hint, sending fewer messages. Tao Zhen breathed easier, then studied like an old ox plowing the fields, grinding day after day until the last week of exams.

***

When faced with the professional courses he feared most, Tao Zhen immediately flipped to the last page of the test paper and poured out all the terms and problem types he had memorized these past few days. With this last-minute effort, he managed to scrape together a passing score.

Leaving the exam room, he felt like he was reenacting The Shawshank Redemption.

Since only one more essay exam a 1,000-word current affairs piece remained that afternoon, Tao Zhen messaged Zhu Wensheng to ask if he was free to grab a meal together. By coincidence, Zhu Wensheng had just finished an exam too. After confirming which cafeteria, he arrived in under ten minutes.

Though both had been busy, and in the same school, they hadn’t seen each other for days. As Zhu Wensheng walked in from the freezing wind into the warm cafeteria, he instantly spotted the golden-haired boy in the crowd.

The youth’s smile was as bright as ever, his pale face wrapped in a scarf until only a flushed, rosy apple-like glow remained.

“Zhu Wensheng!” Tao Zhen raised his hand high and waved, eyes shining. Seeing his excitement, the corners of Zhu Wensheng’s lips curved up despite himself. All the pressure of training, company, and studies seemed to vanish in that moment.

He quickened his pace, just as the “golden apple” bounced over, proudly showing him the dishes he had already picked.

“There were too many people, I was afraid we’d have to wait in line, so I got the food first.” Tao Zhen pulled him to sit, handing him a cleaned pair of chopsticks. “How was your exam? How many left?”

The cafeteria food was greasy and salty, but the self-serve dishes were the only option that fit an athlete’s diet. Zhu Wensheng lowered his gaze, staring at the balanced plates for a moment, a gentle warmth stirring in his chest as he accepted the chopsticks:
“Two more. One specialized course, one Marxism.”

“Hehe, I just finished my last specialized course. Only one current affairs essay left.”
Tao Zhen’s round eyes curved into crescents as he smiled: “So great! Finally no more panic, I can go home for New Year’s!”

For Tao Zhen, this was the most anticipated time. His mom’s theater troupe was on break, his grandparents from both sides would come for New Year’s dinner, the whole family reunited. Fireworks, snowball fights with friends, big red envelopes, just imagining it made him happy.

“Aj-Sheng, what about you? Any plans for the holiday?”

“No plans. I’ll probably stay at the club to keep training.”

Tao Zhen froze mid-bite, turning with surprise: “It’s New Year’s, and you’re still training? Is your hometown here in Nancheng, or somewhere else? Don’t your parents… tell you to go back earlier?”

The boy’s face showed worry, his little golden ahoge swaying nervously.

Zhu Wensheng resisted the urge to touch it, answering calmly as always:
“My hometown’s here. As for relatives, there are too many distant ones I’m not close to, so I usually visit later. My parents… they separated a long time ago. They won’t be coming.”

Tao Zhen’s heart jolted, his chopsticks clattering onto the floor.

He had only asked casually, not expecting to step right onto a landmine. Now he was frozen, at a loss, and finally squeezed out:
“Then… doesn’t that mean you’ll spend the New Year alone?”

“Mm.”

Zhu Wensheng bent down, picked up the chopsticks, and swapped them for a new pair. “It’s fine. I haven’t seen them for thirteen years anyway. I’m used to it.”

Thirteen years.