“What did you say?”
The elevator in the science building wasn’t working, so the group huffed and puffed their way up to the eighth floor, then split off toward their respective labs.
Lu Xingjia’s group headed to Lab 3, located on the left.
The lab instructor had been waiting there for a while. When he saw the three of them arrive, he quickly waved them in.
“This is the most advanced physics lab in our school. There are lots of precision instruments here—way more sophisticated than what you usually use in class.”
The lab was bright and spacious, with the workstation covered in various pieces of equipment. There were basic tools like spring force gauges and measuring cups, as well as more advanced instruments rarely seen in high school, like oscilloscopes and digital circuit kits.
The experimental instruments were many and complex, and just the introduction alone took half an hour.
The teacher took a sip from his glass teacup and then glanced at his watch. “You guys can take the morning to get familiar with the equipment yourselves. We have a meeting to attend. If you have any questions, you can come ask me this afternoon. My office is right next door, and I’ll be there after five.”
“Okay, sir,” Lu Xingjia nodded. “Go ahead, don’t worry about us.”
The lab teacher left in a hurry, leaving the three of them alone with the pile of instruments.
Qin Mudong was the first to walk over to an air track and fiddle with the glider. Lu Xingjia and Miao Qian, on the other hand, were completely dumbfounded.
All of the instruments on the tables were things they’d seen in textbooks and studied in theory, but had rarely used in actual practice.
This wasn’t really their fault. Due to limitations in educational resources, many middle and high school students had a wealth of theoretical knowledge but very little hands-on experience.
As a prestigious provincial school, their lab facilities and experiment classes were ahead of other schools, but still far from everyone being able to operate the instruments themselves.
Fortunately, with the presence of a true xue shen (academic genius) like Qin Mudong, their exploration went relatively smoothly.
The second round of the competition’s practical exam was divided into two parts: operational experiments and design-based experiments, with different provinces emphasizing different aspects. In Xingjiang, the focus was on operational experiments.
There were 34 listed experiments in the exam outline, using around 30 to 40 different instruments. They categorized the instruments by topic—optics, circuits, magnetic fields, etc.—Qin Mudong tried them first, figured out how they worked, and then explained them to Lu Xingjia and Miao Qian.
Though usually aloof and quiet, Qin Mudong was sharp and precise when it came to technical subjects. He quickly grasped the workings and explained them to the others in a clear and concise way.
Lu Xingjia, used to following his train of thought, quickly got up to speed. Miao Qian, naturally shy and a little afraid of Qin Mudong, remained silent during the explanations. While the other two discussed actively, she just quietly tinkered with the equipment on her own.
Lu Xingjia, by nature, liked to poke at things and explore. With a sharp and flexible mind, he adapted quickly. After just one morning and part of the afternoon, he had basically mastered the operation of the various instruments. The rest was just a matter of familiarizing himself with the experimental process and improving his technique.
After lunch, they continued exploring, and before they knew it, it was already 3 p.m.
Autumn had begun, and the days were getting shorter. Not long after three, the sunlight noticeably dimmed, and the lab began to feel darker.
Lu Xingjia glanced at the clock on the wall. “The teacher should be back. Let’s go find him.”
After all, they were still students, and having professional guidance was much more efficient.
Qin Mudong never objected to Lu Xingjia’s suggestions, and Miao Qian nodded in agreement as well.
The teacher’s office was right next to the lab. The three of them hurried over, but found the door still locked.
They waited at the door for a while until their legs were sore, but the teacher still didn’t show up.
Helpless, the three of them returned to the lab to continue on their own while waiting. Little did they know, this wait would stretch into the evening.
The sun had completely set when Ji Angran came to inform them that the teachers were still in a meeting and wouldn’t be able to come by that day.
Although they felt a little frustrated, it was official school business—nothing they could do. Lu Xingjia thanked him and continued experimenting on his own as before.
After another round of experimentation, Lu Xingjia’s legs started to ache, so he grabbed a stool and sat down to rest. Just as he settled down, Miao Qian hesitantly walked over to him.
“Lu Xingjia…”
“What is it?” Lu Xingjia straightened up.
Miao Qian bit her lip, her tone awkward and embarrassed. “I didn’t quite understand how to use the oscilloscope. Could you… could you teach me?”
“Me?” Lu Xingjia was caught off guard and instinctively recalled the steps for using the oscilloscope. It was a complicated instrument to operate, and he was worried he wouldn’t explain it well, so he said, “Why don’t you ask Mudong Ge… ask Qin Mudong instead? I’m not totally confident with it yet—I might teach you the wrong thing.”
“No, no!” Miao Qian shook her head quickly and leaned closer to whisper, “Sorry, but… I’m kind of scared of him. Could you please explain it to me instead?”
She pleaded softly, “Please? I really don’t dare talk to him.”
This was something Lu Xingjia hadn’t considered at all.
But Miao Qian was just a girl, and Lu Xingjia didn’t have the heart to refuse. He scratched his head awkwardly. “Alright… I’ll give it a try.”
Just as he said that, Qin Mudong walked over with one hand in his pocket and asked, “You want to get dinner?”
Lu Xingjia was a bit torn. “Maybe… wait a bit? Miao Qian wants me to show her how to use the oscilloscope.”
“…”
After a moment of silence, Qin Mudong said, “What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it back for you.”
Lu Xingjia hesitated for a second before telling him. Without another word, Qin Mudong turned and strode out of the lab.
“I’m sorry…” Miao Qian’s face went pale. “Did I bother you guys?”
Her timid tone made it even harder for Lu Xingjia to say anything.
“It’s okay,” he sighed lightly. “Let’s take a look at the oscilloscope first.”
The principles behind the oscilloscope weren’t actually complicated. The tricky part was the number of cables to connect and the many different adjustment modes—it was hard to grasp on the first try.
Lu Xingjia had only touched this instrument for the first time that morning. Although he remembered the general steps, he still wasn’t very familiar with it. The two of them fumbled around like the blind feeling their way across a river. When Qin Mudong returned, they still hadn’t finished the experiment.
Without a word, Qin Mudong brought back three identical meals tailored to Lu Xingjia’s taste. After placing two of them on the table in front of them, he took his own portion and walked over to the windowsill, eating in big bites.
Miao Qian stared blankly at the meal on the table. Lu Xingjia also froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile.
Qin Mudong may appear cold on the surface, but he had remembered Miao Qian when bringing food.
He was someone whose gentleness ran deep to the bone.
Lu Xingjia pushed one of the meals toward Miao Qian and said with a smile, “This one’s for you. Eat up.”
“Th-thank you…” Miao Qian took the food and murmured shyly.
After dinner, the three of them cleaned up the trash. Lu Xingjia and Miao Qian went back to studying how to use the oscilloscope.
Qin Mudong didn’t rush them. He quietly busied himself with other instruments nearby, completely focused.
Lu Xingjia wanted several times to just ask him for help directly, but seeing how concentrated he looked, he was afraid of interrupting. So he and Miao Qian continued working together, comparing notes with the textbook.
Thankfully, both of them had a decent foundation in physics. Although progress was slow, they could still carry on with the experiment through discussion.
Qin Mudong sat to the side holding a Hall effect sensor, but his gaze wasn’t on his hand.
He lifted his dark eyes and silently observed the two next to him.
They were huddled together in front of the oscilloscope, their fingers brushing several times.
Lu Xingjia was articulate and sharp, often proposing interesting ideas. Miao Qian would either counter or agree, and it would always spark another cheerful round of discussion.
At some point, Miao Qian had started calling Lu Xingjia “Jia Jia,” and her face was gradually tinged with pink. Lu Xingjia, completely unaware, kept seriously discussing the experiment with her.
He really was so dense.
He was nice to everyone.
He smiled so brightly at everyone.
Qin Mudong closed his eyes, unwilling to watch this scene that filled him with jealousy. But in the darkness, more memories surfaced—frames of Lu Xingjia acting close and friendly with other people.
Scene after scene.
That star was not his.
The realization tore at him.
Desire and reason tangled together, battling for dominance. In countless imagined moments in his mind, he had pulled Lu Xingjia into his arms and crushed him into himself. But in reality, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything at all. All he could do was avert his gaze and pretend he saw nothing.
Time passed, and eventually, the two of them figured out the oscilloscope. Lu Xingjia checked the clock and realized it was already past nine.
“That’s enough for today,” he said to Miao Qian. “It’s getting late. Let’s continue tomorrow?”
Miao Qian nodded as she packed up. “Okay, thank you. See you tomorrow.”
After she left, Qin Mudong was still slumped over the table nearby.
Lu Xingjia walked over quietly and called his name in a soft voice.
No response.
He grew bolder. “Mudong Ge?”
Still no response.
Other than in front of He Xi, Lu Xingjia rarely called him that.
After all, it was a childhood nickname, and saying it now carried a strange sense of intimacy that made him a little shy.
But Qin Mudong seemed to be asleep. Lu Xingjia raised his voice a little and called again: “Mudong Ge?”
All he got in return was Qin Mudong’s steady breathing.
Lu Xingjia sighed softly and stopped calling. He sat down beside him, tilted his head, and quietly looked at his profile.
Such long lashes.
Such a high nose bridge.
Such thin lips.
The lab’s white light fell on Qin Mudong’s side profile like a still from a movie.
He had fallen asleep waiting for him.
Lu Xingjia knew.
In their past life, they had drifted apart as adults, and Qin Mudong had become nothing more than a distant memory, an unreachable symbol. But now, having gotten to know him fully in this life, Lu Xingjia found himself liking him more and more each day.
He liked this “Mudong Ge” who appeared cold on the outside, but had gentleness and restraint etched deep into his bones.
He wanted to be close to him—not just to save him.
But because he needed him.
Because of him, he had become a better version of himself.
He was also his star—his guiding star.
His heart felt like it was soaked in lemon juice, bubbling and swelling, brimming with the urge to express this uncontrollable emotion of “liking.”
“Mudong Ge?”
Lu Xingjia bent down, leaning close to his ear.
Qin Mudong’s eyes remained shut, his breathing steady.
The coldness on his face had completely faded. Even the shadow cast by his lashes held a hint of warmth.
Lu Xingjia’s heartbeat suddenly quickened, and his fingertips tingled with nervous energy.
He closed his eyes, lips curling up unconsciously, and whispered, “I really like you.”
After a pause, he added in an even softer voice, as if pleading or acting spoiled, “Like me a little too, okay?”
They were less than ten centimeters apart—close enough that Lu Xingjia could feel Qin Mudong’s breath.
He was nervous and almost lost control, nearly collapsing onto Qin Mudong. In a hurry, he grabbed the nearby table to steady himself and prepare to stand up.
Just as he was about to stand up, a cold and strong hand grabbed his arm.
Lu Xingjia froze. When he looked up, he met a pair of bright black eyes.
Those deep black eyes were crystal clear—definitely not the look of someone who had just woken up.
Qin Mudong stared straight at him, eyes burning:
“What did you just say?”
Author’s Note:
Half a confession completed √
Barely counts as Jia Jia being the one to say it first, right! (Not a deliberate cliffhanger—something came up unexpectedly, so I could only update this much today. Really sorry!)