Putting down his phone, Pei Tingsong still couldn’t fall asleep. It was already 3:30 in the morning, and he sat down at his desk and turned on his computer. The USB drive was lying on the table. Thinking of what Fang Juexia had said in a huff, he picked up the USB drive and plugged it into the port.
But when the prompt asking whether to open it appeared on the screen, Pei Tingsong hesitated.
Now wasn’t the right time.
He could tell that Fang Juexia cherished his creations, and as a creator himself, he fully understood that sentiment. A work poured with so much effort deserved better treatment.
After removing the USB drive, Pei Tingsong leaned on the desk. Closing his eyes, he recalled the scenes from the interview, where they had given different answers to almost every question. Fang Juexia was like a window; even just opening it a little, he had already seen a world completely different from his own.
He had never met anyone like this before—someone who lived quietly and clearly, without needing slogans or rebellious spirit, as if they were born with the ability to maintain their own identity.
Remembering something, Pei Tingsong sat up and searched for the documentary about the proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem.
He had never understood mathematics well and wasn’t particularly interested in it, so he had expected the viewing experience to be lackluster. But to his surprise, he watched it attentively and became deeply engrossed in it.
Clang—
A loud noise suddenly came from outside.
Pei Tingsong paused the movie, took off his headphones, and quietly walked out of the room. The sound seemed to be coming from the living room. He walked down the hallway and was surprised to see Fang Juexia.
He was still wearing the fleece jacket Ling Yi had given him, crouching at the entrance of the hallway, looking suspicious. Pei Tingsong wanted to scare him, but was afraid he might scream and wake others. So he tiptoed closer and quietly crouched down next to Fang Juexia.
The two of them stood side by side, blocking the hallway exit.
Fang Juexia had no idea that someone had suddenly appeared beside him. He was busy trying to tidy up a stack of books he had accidentally knocked over earlier. On top of the books was an old copper vase. He had come out of the hallway and bumped into it at the corner, causing the vase to crash down with a loud thud, startling him.
Fang Juexia picked up the vase and placed it beside him. Most of the books were so old that the pages were curling up, which was probably why they had been weighted down by the vase.
They must have been brought here by Pei Tingsong, who had nowhere else to put them. Fang Juexia’s OCD compelled him to start organizing them neatly, until only one book remained. The page it was open to had a rectangular bookmark, and under the light of the floor lamp, he recognized the handwriting.
It was Pei Tingsong’s.
Fang Juexia couldn’t help but read it aloud in a low voice: “A robin in a cage, and all of heaven is in an uproar…”
“Cough.”
The sudden coughing sound startled Fang Juexia so much that he sat down on the floor, accidentally knocking over the vase.
Oh no—
The vase didn’t fall as he had expected. The hallway remained quiet, so quiet that Fang Juexia could hear his own heartbeat.
The dim light from the floor lamp illuminated the face that was so close to him. Pei Tingsong was very close to him, one hand braced against the wall of the hallway, facing him and enclosing him within his gaze.
“You…”
“Shh.” Pei Tingsong released his grip on the wall, steadied himself after leaning forward to save the vase, and gently placed it back on the floor.
Fang Juexia stared blankly at the bookmark in his hand, his eyes wide open, motionless as he stared at Pei Tingsong, like a frightened hamster.
Seeing him like this, Pei Tingsong suppressed a smile, took the bookmark back, and pretended to be angry as he glared back at Fang Juexia, lowering his voice: “You’re not sleeping in the middle of the night just to peek at my bookmark?”
Fang Juexia looked a bit innocent.
He was innocent, after all.
“No…” he whispered, “I was just a bit hungry and came out to eat something, but I accidentally bumped into it.”
Pei Tingsong nodded meaningfully, slipped the bookmark into the last open book, and placed it on top of the stack.
Fang Juexia leaned against the wall to stand up; that had really scared him.
“I’m hungry too. Is there anything to eat?” It was too dark, so Pei Tingsong turned on the lights in the dining room.
“Hmm.” Fang Juexia started working silently.
Their kitchen was semi-open, separated by a small bar counter. Pei Tingsong sat at the bar counter, poured himself a glass of juice, and also poured one for Fang Juexia, placing it across from him.
He watched Fang Juexia busily working at the sink. This was an uncommon sight for him; from childhood onward, he had only had nannies responsible for his meals and daily needs, and they neither could nor would eat with him at the same table. Even as a child, he had grown accustomed to the loneliness of eating alone, especially after his grandfather’s passing.
“Would you like some fried eggs?” Fang Juexia turned around and asked him softly.
Pei Tingsong shrugged, “Sure.”
Soon, Fang Juexia brought several plates to the bar. Six translucent shrimp dumplings, two soft-boiled eggs, and a plate of radish cake.
“Can you cook that fast?” Pei Tingsong asked.
Although Pei Tingsong was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was unusually unpicky. Even when he was later taken to Xingtu to suffer hardships, he rarely complained.
He picked up a shrimp dumpling and put it in his mouth. It was unexpectedly delicious. Fang Juexia saw his eyes light up, and a smile appeared on his lips.
“This is really quite tasty. No wonder you like it.”
Fang Juexia paused for a moment, then recalled that this was a question he had answered during a quick-fire Q&A session. He pierced the fried egg with his chopsticks, letting the runny yolk flow out. “The dim sum at the teahouse is even better.”
Pei Tingsong picked up another piece of radish cake. He was curious about the taste of this rectangular, soft, sticky paste.
“This is also delicious.”
Seeing his satisfied expression, Fang Juexia felt a little happy.
He eats like a child. But then again, he’s only just turned twenty a few days ago.
Thinking that this plate of radish cake was made by Fang Juexia’s mother, Pei Tingsong felt a mix of envy and curiosity. “Did you eat your mother’s cooking every day when you were a child?”
Fang Juexia took a sip of juice, “Not necessarily.” He hesitated for a few seconds before explaining, “My mother was a middle school teacher. When I was in elementary school, I often couldn’t wait for her to come home to cook, so she would give me money to go downstairs and buy roast meat rice or something else. But whenever she had time, she would cook for me herself.”
So his mother was a teacher. Hearing Fang Juexia talk about his family and childhood, Pei Tingsong felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of joy.
Fang Juexia seemed to think of something and looked up at the camera in the corner of the restaurant. “They’re recording at night too, right?”
“It’s okay.” Pei Tingsong picked up another shrimp dumpling. “We didn’t bring any wheat, so they can’t hear us.”
“But they can see us sneaking snacks at night.”
Pei Tingsong mumbled, “You’re so hungry you can’t sleep, and you’re still worried about this?” “ After saying that, he glanced at Fang Juexia again, ”Besides, look how skinny you are.”
Fang Juexia was speechless. He knew this guy couldn’t say anything nice. He changed the subject and reached for the last piece with his chopsticks, “Why aren’t you sleeping? You’re usually such a heavy sleeper.”
“I’m watching Fermat’s Last Theorem.”
Upon hearing this, Fang Juexia accidentally dropped the shrimp dumpling he had just picked up. He truly did not expect that the person in front of him would go watch a math documentary because of something he said.
Pei Tingsong propped his chin on his hand and looked at him, “It’s better than I imagined.”
“Really?” Fang Juexia put down her chopsticks. “I thought you would find it boring.”
“There are many parts that I only understand partially, after all, I’m not good at math.” Pei Tingsong added, “It’s because you said it moved you so much that I wanted to see it.”
These words stung a little when they reached his ears.
“But my understanding is limited, so my takeaways after watching it will definitely be different from yours. So I wanted to ask you,” Pei Tingsong looked into his eyes, “why do you like it so much? Is it because of that academic spirit?”
Fang Juexia lowered his head, picking up the remaining pieces of radish cake and arranging them neatly, one next to the other. “Well, after all, so many people over the past three hundred years have dedicated their lives to proving this theorem. That process is truly inspiring.”
“And,” he raised his head, “Wiles had dreamed of proving Fermat’s Last Theorem since he was ten years old, and he actually achieved it as an adult. Can you imagine how that feels?”
He saw the sparkle in Fang Juexia’s eyes, and he came alive. Pei Tingsong couldn’t help but nod, wanting to affirm him.
“Of course,” Pei Tingsong said, “when he mentioned this part, his expression was very similar to yours.”
Fang Juexia felt a bit embarrassed, composed himself, and took another sip of juice. “No, it’s just that every time I think about this, I feel very inspired.”
Pei Tingsong immediately recalled Fang Juexia’s definition of an idol during the interview.
“So, this is what you mean by the embodiment of a dream.”
Fang Juexia nodded, his face showing a calm composure. “At least this sense of existence gave the child version of me the courage to dream.”
Pei Tingsong found it hard to believe. “When did you start thinking like this?”
He recalled, his eyes growing soft, “I remember the background sound was the ticking of a clock. Wiles said, ‘The most appropriate metaphor to describe my experience studying mathematics is the process of entering a dark room. Because when a person first enters complete darkness, they stumble into furniture, time and again.’”
This was strikingly similar to their recent unexpected experience.
“Gradually, you’ll figure out the location of each piece of furniture. After six months or longer, you’ll find the switch and turn on the light, and suddenly everything will become clear. At that point, you’ll know exactly where you are.”
Fang Juexia paused, then spoke again after a moment of silence, “I know I’m in the dark right now.”
“But one day,” he looked up at Pei Tingsong with a calm smile, “I will be able to turn on that light too.”
“I will clearly see where I am, and everyone else will see me too.”
Kaleido Mini-Theater:
While Pei Tingsong and Fang Juexia were sneaking around the corridor—
The chat group of the four members of Kaleido, excluding the fourth and sixth members, flashed a red label:
[Kaleido’s Top Boss 01: Jue Xia actually didn’t sleep and went out.]
[National First-Class Flower Hand Performance Artist: What do you mean you didn’t sleep either?]
[Kaleido Big Boss 01: I slept too much in the car, so now I’m hiding under the covers reading a novel. Juexia is a terrifying species that never suffers from insomnia!]
[You’re Still You: My roommate went out too.]
[National First-Class Flower Hand Performance Artist: ???]
[Caledo’s Top Boss 01: !!!]
[Essential Home Captain: I didn’t turn on Do Not Disturb… You woke up the last person.]
[You’re Still Your Fire Brother: Still open at 3:30 AM? How dedicated are you?]
