Chapter 218 - 135: The Ends of the Balance

Chapter 218: Chapter 135: The Ends of the Balance

The mere mention of summer homework seemed to make the air on the other end of the line freeze, followed by a wail like a pig being slaughtered.

"Don’t even bring it up, Brother Zhuo! If you hadn’t mentioned homework, we could still be friends!"

Zhang Qiang’s voice cracked with indignation.

"This summer’s math packet is just insane! My dad chased me around the house three times with a broom yesterday, swearing my brain is filled with mush. Brother Zhuo, if only you were here. You could just scribble down a few steps for me, and I’d at least have something to turn in."

"Sounds to me like your dad went easy on you."

Chen Zhuo was merciless, saying with a laugh.

"Brother Zhuo, how could you say that!"

Zhang Qiang grumbled, but he was a simple, carefree soul. One moment he was stressing about homework, and the next his tone was suddenly bursting with excitement.

"Oh, right, Brother Zhuo! I’ve got huge news for you!"

Zhang Qiang slapped his thigh on the other end of the line, his voice trembling with excitement.

"That trick you taught me for The King of Fighters ’97 before you left... that... what’s it called... frame-trapping thing? It’s absolutely godlike!"

He started gesticulating wildly, describing the scene over the phone.

"Yesterday afternoon, at that shady internet cafe behind the elementary school, some fat kid from the eighth grade tried to muscle in on my machine. I picked Yagami Iori and used that trick you taught me. I timed his landing frames perfectly after he jumped, and holy shit, I just trapped him in the corner and pummeled him! I beat him so badly he couldn’t even get a single projectile out. I took him down with a perfect!"

In Zhang Qiang’s world right now, getting a perfect on that eighth-grade fatty with Yagami Iori at the arcade was the absolute greatest thing he could brag about to Chen Zhuo.

"You should’ve seen the look on that fatty’s face. It was shifting from pale to red. He was gripping the joystick so hard I thought he’d snap it! In the end, he just tossed down two tokens and ran off with his tail between his legs. Brother Zhuo, seriously, how does your brain work? How can you find patterns in everything, even video games?"

As Chen Zhuo listened to his childhood friend’s boasting, the smile on his face grew wider.

’After all, he’d heard plenty of talk like this from the pros on the forums in his past life. His own skills might not have been anything special, but he remembered all the patterns those experts had figured out through trial and error.’

"He leaves a huge opening when he jumps. Don’t just play defensively. Next time, the instant he lands, push forward on the stick and go straight into a Yaotome. It does more damage, and it’s unblockable."

Chen Zhuo remarked, his tone serious.

"Got it, got it! Next time I’ll beat him so bad he won’t know which way is up!"

Zhang Qiang happily promised.

Immediately after, the sound of someone rummaging came from the other end of the line, as if he were digging through his pockets.

"Brother Zhuo, let me tell you something infuriating."

Zhang Qiang lowered his voice, his tone filled with tragic indignation.

"Old Li’s little shop at the mouth of the alley is such a rip-off! I went to buy an ice pop today, and the Little Puddings have gone up in price! They used to be fifty cents each, now he has the nerve to sell them for sixty! Green Tongues are up to a whole dollar! That’s a ten-cent increase, Brother Zhuo! It’s highway robbery!"

Chen Zhuo found this down-to-earth rant incredibly amusing.

For the past month, his mind had been occupied with cutting-edge international physics: Singularities, connectivity lower bounds, and spectral graph theory.

He’d almost forgotten that a summer at his age was supposed to be about things like popsicles that cost ten cents more, unbeatable arcade games, and endless summer homework.

These two phone calls, coming less than five minutes apart, were like two ends of a balance scale.

One end was weighted down with world-class gold medals and the pinnacle of genius for his age group.

The other end floated lightly, holding Little Pudding popsicles, big watermelons, and a carefree childhood.

And Chen Zhuo stood on the fulcrum, right in the middle of it all.

"A ten-cent price hike and you can’t afford it? Pathetic."

Chen Zhuo teased with a laugh.

"Ten cents is still money! The price increase on two of those popsicles is enough to buy an extra game token!"

Zhang Qiang retorted, full of self-righteousness.

Before Chen Zhuo could tease him further, a powerful, high-pitched woman’s voice erupted from the other end of the line:

"Zhang Qiang! Who are you on the phone with now? Have you even written a single word of your summer homework? And how dare you sneak a piece of the watermelon your mother just bought!"

"Holy crap! My mom’s home early! Brother Zhuo, I gotta go, help me—"

With a flurry of frantic clattering, the phone was abruptly hung up, leaving only the dial tone buzzing in the earpiece.

Chen Zhuo shook his head with a smile and placed the receiver back on the hook.

He stood in the hallway, feeling the hot wind blowing in from the window. He felt the pockets of his shorts; they still held a few coins left over from buying breakfast.

’It’s still early. I’ll go buy a bottle of Arctic Ocean.’

Chen Zhuo turned around slowly and headed downstairs, his feet treading on the dappled light and shadows of the stairwell.

「During that long, sweltering summer.」

Across the ocean in the state of New Jersey, a five-page airmail letter lay quietly on the desk of a reviewer for a top-tier journal, awaiting publication in the latest autumn issue.

In a banquet hall in Spain, a few young men with gold medals around their necks raised their glasses, celebrating their nation’s honor.

And at the entrance to the cafeteria of Hua Country Science and Technology University, an eleven-year-old boy in a short-sleeved shirt held a one-yuan coin, using it to buy a bottle of ice-cold orange soda from the canteen owner.

He used the bottle opener, tethered to the counter by a metal wire, to pop the cap.

With a sharp PSSSH, a cool white mist escaped the bottle.

Chen Zhuo tilted his head back and took a long drink. The cold liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach, chasing away all the summer heat.

He let out a burp, picked up his water flask, and ambled toward the old library.