After doing laundry and freshening up, Zhuang Zi'ang lay in bed, playing on his phone.

He opened the class group chat and saw a message from the newly appointed class president, Xie Wenyong, @ing everyone.

The gist was that next Tuesday and Wednesday were the monthly exams for the whole grade, and everyone should prepare in advance.

It was just a simple announcement for the class, but he felt the need to throw his weight around, demanding that everyone reply "received."

Most students ignored him. Only a few dutifully replied with a simple "Received."

Xie Wenyong was displeased and sent another message. "Why so few replies? Is everyone else asleep?"

Li Huangxuan, never one to tolerate such posturing, immediately retorted, "Stop acting like a big shot. When Zhuang Zi'ang was class president, he wasn't such a pain."

"I'm the class president now, and I make the rules," Xie Wenyong quickly typed back.

He wanted to make a splash as the new class president. (This is similar to the Chinese idiom '新官上任三把火', meaning a new leader wants to make a strong impression and assert authority right away.) If he couldn't get this fire going, it would be difficult to manage the class later.

He secretly gritted his teeth, determined to prove to Lin Mushi, and to all the teachers and students, that he was better than Zhuang Zi'ang.

But things didn't go as he planned. The students weren't buying it.

Instead of the neat row of "Received" he had envisioned, Xie Wenyong was met with a barrage of sarcastic comments.

"It's just a lousy class president position, one that Zhuang Zi'ang didn't even want."

"Yeah, he really thinks he's all that."

"In my mind, only Zhuang Zi'ang is fit to be class president."

"Two years in a row as the top student in the entire grade, who can break that record?"

...

Xie Wenyong gnashed his teeth in anger, jealousy burning fiercely in his heart.

Just then, Zhuang Zi'ang sent a nonchalant two-character reply: "Received."

Campus belle Lin Mushi immediately followed: "Received."

Li Huangxuan: "Received."

Zhang Ziyu: "Received."

Deng Zhuoran: "Received."

...

Seeing this, Xie Wenyong finally understood. Zhuang Zi'ang's position in the hearts of his classmates was unshakable.

This only fueled his resentment and his desire to prove himself.

Zhuang Zi'ang, on the other hand, had no such petty calculations. He replied "Received" out of goodwill, wanting to give Xie Wenyong some face and help him maintain order.

After sending the message, he put down his phone, read his magazine for a bit, and went to sleep, filled with anticipation for his library date with Little Butterfly the next day.

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The next morning, a "ding" sound pulled Zhuang Zi'ang from his slumber.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and saw a reply from Little Butterfly.

"Lazybones, wake up! I bought you breakfast."

Zhuang Zi'ang immediately sprang out of bed, all traces of sleepiness gone.

Does she only use her phone during the day?

And what about yesterday's kiss? Does she really not remember anything?

Zhuang Zi'ang took a shower, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and felt completely refreshed.

He unlocked a shared bike outside and rode to the library.

Under the poplar tree in front of the library, a girl in a white blouse and blue skirt was playing hopscotch on the red brick pavement.

Her movements were light and graceful, as if she were dancing on air. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling her with light and shadow.

She looked as beautiful as a fairy who had descended to earth.

"Little Butterfly!" Zhuang Zi'ang was captivated.

"You're so slow! The breakfast I bought is getting cold," Su Yudiel pouted.

"Sorry, I'll be faster next time," Zhuang Zi'ang quickly apologized.

Whenever he was with Little Butterfly, he always looked forward to the next time, and the time after that, and the time after that.

He wished they could be together every single day.

Food was not allowed inside the library, so they sat on the steps nearby to share breakfast.

Su Yudiel had bought some baozi (steamed buns) and shaomai, along with warm milk.

The most important thing about eating wasn't what you ate, but who you ate with.

When you're with someone you like, even plain food tastes like a delicacy.

"Wow, Zhuang Zi'ang, this shaomai is delicious, try one."

"No way, you already took a bite."

"It's okay, I didn't bite this side."

"Alright then!"

...

A scene that would make any single person envious.

After finishing their food, they entered the library.

It was the weekend, and there were quite a few people reading. Zhuang Zi'ang told Su Yudiel to find a seat first while he went to look for books.

To play along with the childish game, he picked out several joke books and fairy tale collections.

They were the simplified versions for young children, complete with pinyin (phonetic transcriptions).

After grabbing the books, he went to the reading area. It took him a while to find Su Yudiel in a far corner.

"Why did you pick such a remote spot?" Zhuang Zi'ang asked, finding it a bit out of the way.

"I'll tell you, I just had a super spooky thing happen," Su Yudiel said mysteriously.

Zhuang Zi'ang was puzzled. What could be so spooky in a library full of people?

Seeing his disbelief, Su Yudiel insisted, "I clearly saw many empty seats, but when I tried to sit down, the people nearby told me they were taken!"

"That's it?" Zhuang Zi'ang stifled a laugh.

"Isn't it spooky? I saw empty seats, but they could see people there," Su Yudiel said earnestly.

Zhuang Zi'ang couldn't tell if she was deliberately trying to be funny or if she was genuinely that naive.

He handed her the joke books. "Alright, let's read!"

Like a child, Su Yudiel took the books and started reading with gusto.

The "horror story" was immediately forgotten.

She had a really low threshold for humor, but she was also mindful of disturbing others. She often covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, her face turning red from the effort.

Zhuang Zi'ang occasionally glanced at her, half-expecting her to laugh so hard she'd snort milk out her nose.

The children's books with pinyin were short and easy to read.

Su Yudiel finished two books quickly and got up to get more.

Zhuang Zi'ang, engrossed in the whimsical world of fairy tales, didn't pay much attention to her.

Time flowed quietly, like sand slipping through one's fingers.

People came and went, each carrying their own joys and sorrows.

After a while, Zhuang Zi'ang snapped out of it and looked at the girl beside him.

This time, she wasn't reading a joke book. Instead, she was intently focused on a copy of the Nan Jing (Classic of Difficulties).

It was one of the four classics of traditional Chinese medicine, attributed to the legendary physician Bian Que.

The book covers topics such as the Five Elements theory, the Eight Extraordinary Vessels, the Gate of Life theory, the Zang-Fu organ system, and other complex concepts, making it quite abstruse and difficult to understand.

Zhuang Zi'ang was surprised.

The same girl who was just giggling like a fool over children's books with pinyin was now reading such a profound ancient text. The contrast was striking.

"Why are you reading a medical book all of a sudden?" Zhuang Zi'ang asked in a hushed voice.

"Just browsing, out of curiosity," Su Yudiel replied casually.

"Is someone in your family sick?"

"No!"

Seeing that Su Yudiel was reluctant to talk about it, Zhuang Zi'ang didn't press further.

After all, people usually don't like to discuss family illnesses.

Then again, he thought, I'm already on death's door. What right do I have to pry into other people's affairs?

Zhuangzi once said: "Birth and death are intertwined."

Everything in the world is constantly being born and growing, and also constantly dying and disappearing.

When a person dies, is it truly the end of everything?