"I get carsick. Could I switch seats with you?"
A very soft voice came from nearby.
Qin Yuanqing looked over and saw it was Song Dandan. She had been a top student back in junior high—always ranked in the top three, often taking first place.
They had met in their first year of junior high and even participated in an English competition together. Song Dandan had been the class monitor then.
But things were different in high school. Her grades had slipped to the middle range, and she later chose the liberal arts track. After all, science subjects like physics and chemistry were brutal for girls who weren't strong in logical thinking—they could kill countless brain cells, cause massive hair loss, and might even lead to premature baldness.
"No problem," Qin Yuanqing replied. Since she had already asked, it would have been awkward to refuse. He got out of the front passenger seat.
"Thank you," Song Dandan said softly as she moved into the passenger seat.
"It's nothing," Qin Yuanqing smiled, then climbed into the back seat.
By coincidence—or misfortune—he found himself sitting right next to Yang Yuqing, who was in the middle due to her slim figure.
The driver was an old acquaintance. After reminding everyone to sit properly, he started the car immediately.
All three girls ate bread and drank milk in the car, each taking small, refined bites. Qin Yuanqing, who was used to seeing people eat heartily, found it a bit unfamiliar.
After they finished eating, the topic turned to the exam. Song Dandan and Yang Yuqing chatted about liberal arts subjects, while Qin Yuanqing joined in occasionally. From the conversation, he realized their grades really weren't great—especially in mathematics. It was borderline disastrous. Even scoring 90 points was difficult; getting 70 or 80 was normal if the paper was slightly harder.
And this was math out of 150 points.
What's more, liberal arts math was significantly easier than science-track math.
Still, they weren't without strengths. Both girls did very well in politics, often scoring over 90 out of 100.
Politics, however, was Qin Yuanqing's eternal pain. He had actually leaned toward liberal arts, but when the subject-stream division came, he scored a miserable 45 in politics. Worse still, the politics teacher was also the homeroom teacher, who scolded him harshly. Completely disheartened, Qin Yuanqing gave up on liberal arts and chose science instead.
Anyone who could score high in politics earned his genuine admiration. He cared deeply about current affairs and was excellent at history, yet somehow every time he took a politics exam, he felt he had answered perfectly—only for the graded paper to turn into a tragedy.
Perhaps the saying was true: hot-blooded youths were simply not suited for studying politics.
After finishing their discussion about the exams, the car entered the highway, and the conversation shifted to the Beijing Olympics—the awe-inspiring opening ceremony and the Chinese athletes who brought glory to the nation, topping the gold medal table and achieving the best results in history.
Sports stars like Yao Ming, Guo Jingjing, and Zhang Yining became hot topics. "China's Giant" and "The Mobile Great Wall" Yao Ming, the "Diving Queen" Guo Jingjing, and the "Great Demon King" Zhang Yining—each nickname echoed across the country.
Qin Yuanqing's favorite was Zhang Yining. At the Beijing Olympics, she won both women's singles and doubles. Combined with her victories at the 2004 Athens Olympics, she became China's first double Grand Slam champion—earning the legendary title "Great Demon King." Even more than a decade later, at the Tokyo Olympics, her name was still frequently mentioned.
What surprised him was that the three girls' favorite athlete wasn't Yao Ming, but the "Flying Man" Liu Xiang. Unfortunately, at the Beijing Olympics, Liu Xiang withdrew midway due to injury. Even now, the controversy surrounding him was immense, with countless people criticizing him.
Yet people often forgot how many international honors Liu Xiang had won for China over the years. He had equaled the world record and told the world that yellow-skinned people could fly. He gave countless Chinese people confidence and reshaped the world's perception of China.
A hero who brought glory to the nation deserved recognition and respect.
Sadly, at that time, although China had already become the world's third-largest economy—and would soon surpass Japan to become second—long-standing insecurity, combined with the constant preaching of so-called public intellectuals in the media, meant that Chinese people were still not confident.
This was unlike the atmosphere during the Tokyo Olympics years later. Whether it was Sun Yiwen's injury withdrawal, Lu Yufei's mistake and fall, or table tennis gold medals being taken by Japan, Chinese athletes apologized to the nation in tears—yet the media and the public only comforted them, encouraging them to keep going, never blaming them for losing gold.
Celebrate victory. Encourage defeat and fight again next time.
That was the magnanimity of a great nation—something China at this time could not yet compare to.
If such incidents happened now, they would already be drowned in abuse.
Before they realized it, the car had exited the highway and soon arrived at Yang Family Village. All three girls lived there, so the driver dropped them off first before heading to Qin Family Village.
After getting out of the car, Qin Yuanqing looked at the flat-roofed house, his eyes growing moist. This was his home—his hometown.
Tomorrow was National Day, but the sun was still fierce. His parents were napping on lounge chairs, electric fans blowing beside them. Their home still didn't have air conditioning; heat seeped through the concrete roof, making the rooms stuffy and hot.
Guilt and regret flooded Qin Yuanqing's heart.
His father had once been the most carefree man in the village—food and clothes without worry, playing mahjong at night. But because of one sentence from Qin Yuanqing—"Dad, I want to study. Are you willing to support me?"—his father completely changed. He woke earlier than the chickens and slept later than the dogs, rented over ten mu of farmland, and worked the fields with his mother day after day, all to support his education.
Yet Qin Yuanqing had been willful, addicted to novels, causing his grades to plummet during the college entrance exam, failing even to reach the first-tier cutoff. He stubbornly refused to continue studying, forcing his father to persuade him patiently.
When he finally went to college, the burden fell entirely on his parents. Tuition was only 3,600 yuan, but living expenses and accommodation added up significantly. Those years were hard—bad weather, low agricultural prices. His parents' annual income often didn't even reach 50,000 yuan, yet they never hesitated to spend money on him.
"No matter how poor, don't be poor in education. No matter how bitter, don't let children suffer."
His parents lived by those words. That was why, whenever Qin Yuanqing wrote about the greatness of maternal love, he never forgot that paternal love was just as伟大.
His mother's death from lung cancer in 2015 filled him with lifelong guilt. After she passed away, the house felt like it had lost something essential. From then on, he rarely went home.
He hadn't understood why until he later watched a video of a Fudan University professor explaining philosophy, saying, "Dependent origination leads to emptiness." Only then did he realize: a house becomes a home because of parents. When parents are gone, the home is dissolved.
As for his father, Qin Yuanqing felt equally guilty. Even past sixty, his father still bore heavy burdens—house renovations, gift money, endless responsibilities that should have belonged to Qin Yuanqing, instead of enjoying a peaceful old age like others.
Qin Yuanqing stood at the door without entering, quietly watching his parents. Two songs surfaced in his mind: "Mother in Candlelight" and "Father" by the Chopstick Brothers.
Yes—parents owe us nothing, yet we keep taking and taking. They give endlessly, asking for nothing in return.
He complained about low wages and high pressure, envying the ease of life in Europe and America. But his parents' generation had it even harder. Back then, the income gap between China and the United States was unimaginably large. They had strength but nowhere to earn money.
Qin Yuanqing felt a deep ache in his chest. He clenched his fists and silently vowed to study hard and never disappoint his parents again.
He imagined the day of the college entrance exam results—guests filling the house, his parents joyfully setting off fireworks.
Wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Qin Yuanqing thought: having been reborn once, how could he live an ordinary life? How could he accept mediocrity? A real man should live boldly and brilliantly.
What's more, he had a cheat—an unparalleled, world-unique black-tech academic system. With relentless effort, even if he didn't become a scientist, he could still become a great entrepreneur.
"Dad, Mom!"
Seeing his parents wake up, Qin Yuanqing called out with deep emotion.
"Yuanqing, you're back!"
His parents exclaimed in delight.
Just a few days ago, they had spoken on the phone, and Qin Yuanqing had said that National Day only meant a three-day break and he wouldn't be coming home.
Indeed, this year high school freshmen and sophomores had seven days off, but seniors were special—only three days, returning to school on October 4th.
"Have you eaten? I haven't cooked for you yet," his mother said, holding his hand, her face glowing with joy.
"Mom, I've already eaten in town before coming back," Qin Yuanqing quickly replied.
"How's your studying? Is life hard? Living alone in town, you must take good care of yourself…"
His mother's constant concern poured out. Qin Yuanqing felt no annoyance at all—only warmth and fulfillment.
Those who find their mothers nagging will never understand: this, too, is a kind of happiness.
Once it's lost, no amount of money can bring it back.
Because of this realization, Qin Yuanqing's college entrance exam essay topic was "This Too Is a Kind of Happiness," into which he poured all of these feelings.