The classroom atmosphere was quite harmonious. Apart from a few male classmates, Shen Nian got along well with everyone. Chen Qiuyu was among those he was relatively closer to—over the two years of high school, she had frequently asked him for help with math problems. Having a classmate good at math was truly invaluable.
Chen Qiuyu left the impression of being a bit chuunibyou—not the "my divine eye awakens" kind, but more of a literary variety. "Bookish maiden" might be a more fitting description.
Ah, literature.
Once, she took a long leave of absence. When she returned, Shen Nian casually asked what she’d been up to.
She replied, "They stripped away my soul, leaving behind only a body repeatedly slashed by blades and stitched together with silver needles. A piece of me is missing, never to be whole again. The me who once laughed has been carefully tucked into the deepest corners of my heart, never to return."
Damn, what kind of depressing prose is this?
Shen Nian said, "That serious? So, what actually happened?"
She shook her head silently, her eyes tinged with faint sorrow.
Shen Nian thought she might be hiding some grave illness and pitied her for a long time—how tragic for a bright young girl to end up like this. Later, he asked Xia Yanchun, who finally revealed the truth.
Chen Qiuyu had gone to get her appendix removed.
"Stripped away my soul" = anesthesia; "slashed by blades, stitched with silver needles" = surgery; "a piece of me is missing" = appendix gone.
As for the latter part? She burst into a radiant grin when Shen Nian gave her two sticks of gum after she returned to school.
Such is the way of the literary, melancholic maiden.
Don’t laugh—you wouldn’t pass the second round either.
She was the second most eccentric person in class. As for who held the top spot, Shen Nian would never tell.
Compared to Chen Qiuyu, Xia Yanchun seemed downright normal.
Thinking about the fishing uncle who paid him to buy fish just to show off, Shen Nian felt at ease.
Truly, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. When it came to absurdity, both the fishing uncle and Chen Qiuyu were masters in their own right, each with their unique flair. Shen Nian could only tip his hat in admiration.
The uncle sent a string of messages, and Shen Nian replied.
[Shen Nian]: Uncle, wait for me. Is that your daughter in the photo on your feed?
The uncle responded instantly.
[Fishing Uncle]: Last time when I said I’d introduce my daughter to you, I was just joking. You’re serious?
[Fishing Uncle]: Kid, my wife reminded me to thaw the pork, and I forgot. Got stuff to do—gotta bounce.
[Shen Nian]: ?
Shen Nian chuckled in resignation.
He didn’t reply further and decided to fish alone, lest he outshine the uncle and shatter his fishing spirit.
The sun was out today. This time, without Xia Yanchun’s sunscreen, Shen Nian had brought his own sunhat. If it got too hot, he’d just leave.
Surely no angler would camp under the blazing sun without an umbrella, dump a whole bucket of bait, and still catch nothing, right?
Riding his e-bike to the park, Shen Nian didn’t spot the fishing uncle at their usual spot. But he saw him further away.
Still couldn’t give up fishing, huh? Hakki Uncle, you’ve got my respect—I acknowledge your gold medal in the fishing tournament.
The uncle was sitting with a girl, legs crossed, reading a book, looking utterly relaxed.
Shen Nian didn’t disturb them. If the uncle thought he was eyeing his daughter, things could get awkward. They were just normal classmates, after all.
Under the shade of a tree, he set up a small stool and casually hooked some bait.
Two minutes in, Shen Nian wasn’t even holding the rod. Leaning on the railing, he watched as a fish nibbled the hook, flapped its tail twice, then belly-flopped.
Damn, a fish trying to scam him.
He pondered: Are bad fish just old now, or have old fish turned bad?
Shen Nian reeled it in effortlessly and tossed it into the bucket. Everyone saw it—the fish hooked itself.
Fishing mastery was just too overpowered.
Within half an hour, he’d landed three decent-sized fish. Then he started casting with an empty hook, testing the limits of his fishing prowess.
Obviously, an empty hook couldn’t catch anything—even fishing mastery had its bounds. Otherwise, it’d defy all logic.
The kind of thing that, if posted online, would make people suspect someone was underwater hanging fish for him—proof of which would devastate anglers nationwide.
While Shen Nian was hauling in fish left and right, the uncle on the other side was sweating bullets.
A few days ago, he’d had a good streak, landing several big ones. Finally, he had bragging rights in front of his wife and daughter. But today, after three hours, all he’d caught was a stinky sock.
Not even a tiny fish.
At least that kid wasn’t around today—otherwise, his reputation as an "air force" (zero catches) would be cemented.
Mortifying.
"Qiuyu, today’s just not my day. The sun’s scorching—why don’t you head back first?" Chen Guangming said awkwardly. This rare outing with his daughter was turning into a humiliation.
Chen Qiuyu glanced at him and sighed. "It’s fine. Catching a sock is still impressive."
Chen Guangming: "......"
He remembered back when his daughter was in elementary school, her eyes sparkling as she watched him reel in a big catch. Back then, she’d admired him, even bragging to her friends about her dad’s fishing skills.
Now, the man who once boasted of his catches in front of his family had reached the most powerless stage of his life.
Sigh.
Life’s a joke.
In that moment, Chen Guangming envied that high school senior he’d met a week ago more than ever—his vitality, his youth, and most of all, his fishing skills. If he were that good, maybe his wife and daughter would look at him with respect again.
The helplessness of middle-aged men...
Chen Qiuyu didn’t leave. School was stifling, and she’d come out with her dad to relax on the weekend.
Fishing was just a bonus. If they caught something, great. If not, she was happy just enjoying the autumn breeze, strolling around, reading, and soaking in the literary ambiance.
"Autumn winds rise, white clouds drift; leaves turn yellow, geese fly south." Poetry and autumn breezes—a literary girl’s greatest joys.
The wind tousled her hair as she absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear—and spotted a familiar figure in the distance.
Huh?
Looked like Shen Nian. Maybe? She squinted.
Too far to tell. She sneakily snapped a photo and sent it to him.
[Chen Qiuyu]: Shen Nian, this guy looks like you. (Image.jpg)
[Shen Nian]: 666, handsome like me.
[Chen Qiuyu]: ......
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