When the final exam results came out, Shang Xi was still completely absorbed in his game, oblivious to the terrifying rules of the Master’s Group.
[Morning Sun at Five O’Clock (21)]
Zhou Baofu: [Image]
Zhou Baofu: [Image]
Zhou Baofu: [Image]
…
Everyone’s scores across all subjects were forwarded in high definition, exposed for all to see without mercy.
Xi: groundhog screaming.gif
An Ming: snow owl lighting a cigarette.jpg
Endless Night: Oh, forgot to tell you—our Master’s Group has always had this rule.
Shang Xi lost it over WeChat at Fu Congxiao. “How do you forget something like this!!”
“My chemistry score in the fifties got seen by everyone!! It’s basically the same as me stripping naked and streaking!!!”
“The final exam didn’t even cover vocal music. If you’re gonna post scores, throw my elective ones up there too!!”
Fu Congxiao was deep into his video games and replied offhandedly, “Old Zhou said, know shame and then push yourself to improve.”
The school was pretty hands-off in general, but it cracked down hard on cultural classes and Survival Class scores—no slouch compared to the top high schools in the city center.
Old Zhou himself fanned the flames in the group chat.
Zhou Baofu: Chen Zhishan, Physics 68! Peng Jinjin, English 88! Shang Xi, Chemistry 58!
Zhou Baofu: Starting today, you three are priority targets for tutoring by your senior brothers and sisters. If you flunk the makeup test at the start of term, I’ll personally draw up a review schedule for you. If needed, I’ll scrap your evening free time and turn it all into study hall!
Xi: Teacher, I was wrong! I’ll study hard for sure!
Zhou Baofu: Excellent. With your promise, it stings a little less when the master docks my bonus.
Xi: groundhog roaring.gif
Shang Xi had thin skin and a competitive streak. Faced with his weak spots, his first instinct was to turn to the gentle, approachable senior sister for help.
Little did he know, An Ming—usually all warm smiles and soft words—transformed into a terrifying owl the second she started teaching.
“What was the equation-balancing trick I just explained?”
The owl fixed him with a piercing stare.
“And what else?”
The owl stared into the void.
“You’d better rethink your answer.”
Little Nightingale shivered just a bit.
“Uh, it’s, uh…”
“Shang Xi,” the senior sister said in a chilling tone, “Get this wrong again, and we’re adding three more practice sets. You need the extra drills.”
Little Nightingale spent three days buried in worksheets, wiping away tears and all but vanishing from the face of the earth.
Fu Congxiao went several days without a peep from him and asked An Ming what was going on. She replied with honeyed gentleness, “I’d suggest not bothering Little Shang Xi while he studies. His basics are shaky, bad weak spots—he really needs to buckle down.”
Fu Congxiao fell silent for a moment. “I’ll reteach him from square one.”
An Ming: “Oh? Patience kicking in now?”
An Ming: “Where’d that beaker-washing slacker from the lab disappear to?”
Fu Congxiao: “…I’ll replace your set of measuring cups and test tubes. Toss the ones I botched.”
The senior sister happened to be planning an overseas vacation and gleefully handed off the responsibility.
“Then his start-of-term test is on you. Good luck!”
When the video call came through, Shang Xi looked utterly deflated.
“It’s Senior Brother,” he sighed. “Maybe I should just switch to the arts track…”
“Cut it out,” Fu Congxiao said. “Grab your tablet. Sending PPTs now. We’ll start from the beginning.”
Shang Xi perked up a little. “You’re gonna teach me?”
“Yeah.”
“No stinky face.”
“…Yeah.”
“Even if I screw up, teach me patiently—no snark, no cold overlord smirk.”
Fu Congxiao: “You give Senior Sister An Ming the same list of demands?”
Shang Xi gazed at him all pitiful-like. “I just don’t like getting yelled at…”
Fortunately, the stinky-faced senior was meticulous and earnest when he taught.
Top students had their own streamlined thought processes, sometimes skipping steps even on contest problems.
But he quickly synced to Shang Xi’s slower pace, pausing just long enough for him to work through the logic before dropping a subtle, perfectly timed hint.
Even with vacation separating them geographically, their routines fell into a steady rhythm.
Mornings from nine to noon: chemistry tutoring.
Afternoons from two to four: physics review.
Evenings from seven to nine: teaming up online for games.
Shang Heping had worried that with him and his wife swamped at work, their kid would run wild all summer.
To their shock—and delight—Little Xi’s days grew even more structured than before.
This!! Was big bro’s influence!!
Where else could you find a brother-in-arms like Congxiao?! Maybe just make him an official godson!! Time to spam those red envelopes!!!
Shang Xi started out playful as ever but soon settled into the groove.
Every morning, he’d wake up, ping his senior brother, fry up an egg pancake, heat some milk—and before he knew it, he was deep in lessons, powering through problem sets.
Occasionally, when they grew tired of studying, he would show off some little gadget he’d made.
He had grown accustomed to finding stray feathers between the sheets and pillows each day.
High schoolers had fast metabolisms, and his hair would sometimes turn into tiny feathers, which he carefully collected to craft into feather quills and bookmarks.
“Look at this,” Shang Xi said, holding up a feather bookmark to the camera with a smug little grin. “Pretty cool, huh?”
The light brown feathers were soft and pristine, with a snippet of English poetry inscribed in ink along the edges.
The boy rubbed his hair, fishing out another feather here and there and setting it aside.
“If my feathers were just a bit bigger, I could make jellyfish lamps or other decorations. Too bad Nightingales are so small.”
On the other side of the screen, Fu Congxiao gazed at the bookmark between his fingers and teased, “You should send me one.”
Shang Xi drawled lazily, “You want one too?”
Fu Congxiao paused for a moment before replying softly in the affirmative.
“Oh, then dream on,” Shang Xi said with a cheeky smile. “I’m not giving you one.”
The moment passed without further ado.
They learned quickly, weaving their knowledge into clear, interconnected webs, and often forgot to take breaks.
In the middle of a lesson, the warm sunlight lulled Shang Xi into drowsiness.
He managed a few responses at first, but before long, he had slumped over in front of the camera and fallen asleep.
Fu Congxiao finished explaining the final tough problem and noticed the sudden silence. He watched Shang Xi sleep in quiet contentment.
The boy’s black hair was a touch on the long side, draping softly across his face like feathers when he lay on his side.
Fu Congxiao watched for a long time until sleep tugged at him too. He laid his head down nearby and drifted off.
Shang Heping entered with a plate of dragon fruit, lightening his steps when he saw his son asleep. He set the fruit aside.
The two boys’ phones were still on, and at half past ten in the morning, they napped together, their breaths syncing in long, even rhythms.
The air conditioner hummed cool air, while perfect sunlight streamed through the window.
Shang Heping watched with a pang of envy. It was one of those moments unique to youth.
He slipped out quietly and closed the door behind him.
Luo Suhe was watching a drama on TV. “Still at it?”
“Napping,” Shang Heping chuckled. “Congxiao must’ve gotten tired from teaching—he’s out cold too.”
“That poor kid works so hard,” Luo Suhe said. “Feels like no one’s ever really looked after him. He hardly ever smiled before.”
“If his family agrees, we could have him stay with us for a bit,” Shang Heping suggested. “Doesn’t matter if it’s one or a few kids—Shengzhou’s got plenty of fun to offer.”
With that bond in place, the days seemed to fly by.
Before they knew it, summer vacation was over, and the new semester had begun.
Shang Xi had been immersed in a sea of chemistry and physics for dozens of days. He even felt a sense of relief.
Great! No more tutoring or grinding practice problems!
Time to show Old Zhou what I’ve got on the placement test!!
And show he did. When the placement test scores came out, Old Zhou gave him a big thumbs-up.
[Morning Sun at Four-Thirty (22)]
Old Zhou: I’ve got some good news to announce.
Shang Xi shot up in his dorm bed. “I got an 85 in chemistry!! Senior Brother!!”
“Old Zhou’s gonna have to praise me big time this round!! The questions were brutal!!”
Old Zhou: My bonus is safe lololol
Old Zhou: Master’s Group dinner tonight—Cantonese food!
Shang Xi’s smile froze, and he let out a Nightingale screech. “Why doesn’t he post the scores?!”
“Flunk and it’s public shaming—ace it and he still won’t give proper praise!”
Then another message popped up in the group.
Endless Night: Shang Xi made huge progress in chemistry—tenth in the class this time.
Old Zhou: Attaboy, Little Xi. Teacher’s treating you to an extra cage of shrimp dumplings tonight!
Shang Xi was somewhat appeased. “Thanks, Senior Brother.”
Fu Congxiao closed his phone and drawled, “An oral thank-you is all?”
“I’ve already figured out how to thank you,” Shang Xi said solemnly. “Repaying kindness is basic etiquette.”
Fu Congxiao, expecting a new bookmark as a gift, leaned back comfortably to hear the rest.
Little Nightingale declared firmly, “Senior Brother! I’m heading to Beijing next week—name any specialty, and I’ll haul it back for you!”
“Even the Forbidden City—if you want it, I’ll snag you a Ming Dynasty red brick!”
Fu Congxiao: “…”
“Why Beijing all of a sudden?”
“Professor Rong says some overseas vocal professor is coming for an exchange visit. She wants to take a few of us to sit in on classes and attend some seminars.”
Shang Xi glanced at his calendar. “Just seven or eight days. Exams are done—time to have some fun!”
Fu Congxiao thought to himself that Shang Xi would only have his own life back for a few days.
It was so brief it irritated him.
He hid his frustration perfectly, replying calmly, “Sounds like a great opportunity.”
Shang Xi had never been to Beijing and was buzzing with excitement for the trip.
In the new semester, he reunited with Lark Junior Brother and Thrush Junior Sister. Things turned out far more relaxed than expected.
Professor Rong’s Master’s Group was just as harmonious and upbeat. Her junior brothers and sisters were all a little shy at first, but once conversation got going, they discovered they had a surprising number of shared interests.
They might end up as rivals someday, but for now, they were comrades united by the same passion.
When a few little birds sang together in harmony, their voices resonating as one, it soothed the soul like a long soak in a hot spring.
Shang Xi had officially risen to the rank of second-year senior in Professor Rong’s group. He could now occasionally channel that same cool detachment laced with quiet nobility that Fu Congxiao pulled off so effortlessly—and it felt fantastic.
“I can finally have people calling me Senior Brother! My junior brother’s totally glued to me!” he crowed smugly. “Being the senior really hits different!”
Fu Congxiao merely smiled and nodded, though the depths of his eyes held no real warmth.
A few days later, Shang Xi packed his bags, ready to visit the Central Music Academy he’d long admired.
Before heading out, he made a point of asking.
“Senior Brother, I’ll be gone for several days. Wanna come see me off?”
Fu Congxiao was buried in practice sheets and didn’t even turn around.
“Too busy. Probably won’t have time.”
Shang Xi paused, then let out a soft “Oh.”
He gently fingered the Snake Fang Amulet tied to one corner of his phone, a pang of sadness settling in.
