Shanghai: Autumn 2012, 8:00 PM
The transition from childhood to adolescence had transformed the "Little Queen" into a striking young woman. At fifteen, Jiang Min possessed a spirited, round-faced beauty that radiated vitality, her eyes still carrying the defiant spark of the girl who once led the "Strivers."
The queue for the local specialty rice cakes was long, but Min didn't mind. She stood there. "Hurry up," she muttered to herself, her stomach growling. "Mama and Papa are waiting." Finally clutching the warm, grease-stained bag of snacks, she hurried toward her neighborhood.
She took a shortcut through a narrow alley lined with ancient cherry and plum trees. A sudden, sharp wind whipped through the passage, shaking the branches and sending a flurry of petals dancing in the air. Ahead, a man was struggling with his exuberant Golden Retriever. In a split second of distraction, the dog spotted a stray cat and lunged. The chain snapped out of the man's hand. The heavy dog bolted, barreling straight into Min.
"Ah!" Min gasped as the impact sent her reeling. Her ankle twisted with a sickening pop, and she tumbled onto the stone-paved ground. The man, shouting apologies over his shoulder, didn't stop—he was already chasing his dog into the darkness.
"Hey! Unbelievable!" Min hissed, her face contorted in a grimace. She tried to push herself up, but a jagged bolt of pain shot up her leg. She sank back down, cradling her ankle. Above, the sky rumbled with the first low growl of an approaching storm. Lightning flickered, illuminating her solitary frustration.
"Need a hand?"
A voice, as smooth and calm as a cello, broke through the wind. Min looked up, and the world seemed to slow down.
A hand was extended toward her—long, elegant fingers silhouetted against the dim streetlamp. She looked up at the owner and froze. He was a boy , perhaps the same age as mine , with a jawline carved from ivory and eyes that seemed to hold the quiet depth of a forest. He wore a clean, white-collared shirt that fluttered in the wind, looking like a prince who had wandered into the wrong alley.
"Let me help you," he said, his smile gentle and disarming.
Min, usually so guarded, found herself captured by that smile. Unknowingly, she reached out and took his hand. His grip was warm and steady as he hoisted her up. However, the moment her weight hit her injured foot, her balance failed.
"Careful!" The boy caught her, his arms wrapping around her waist to steady her.
Their faces were inches apart. Min could smell a faint scent of rain and sandalwood on him. Her heart hammered against her ribs—not from the fall, but from the sudden, overwhelming proximity. She was lost in his gaze, her breath hitching in her throat. For a few heart-stopping seconds, the wind and the pain ceased to exist.
He pulled back slightly, checking her balance. "Are you okay?"
Min snapped out of it, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "I... I'm fine," she grunted, though she immediately winced in pain. He guided her gently to a nearby stone bench and sat her down. Min didn't speak; she just watched him, fascinated by the fluid, graceful way he moved.
Without asking, the boy knelt at her feet. Min flinched, pulling her leg back. "What are you—"
"Don't move," he said firmly but softly. He took her ankle in his hands, his touch professional and careful. "It's not swollen yet, but it's a bad twist." He looked up at her, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Wait here. Don't go anywhere."
Before she could protest, he vanished, running toward the glow of a nearby pharmacy.
THE MEDICAL STORE
Gu Wei burst into the small, neon-lit medical store. "Ointment for a leg twist! Fast, please!"
The storekeeper moved slowly, peering through spectacles. Wei tapped his fingers on the glass counter, glancing at his watch and then at the darkening sky outside. Every second felt like a minute. Finally, the man placed a tube on the counter. Wei slapped the money down and grabbed the medicine.
"Wait, young man! Your change!" the storekeeper called. But Wei was already a blur, sprinting back into the wind-swept alley.
THE ALLEY
Min sat alone, her heart racing. "What is wrong with me? Why did I let him touch me?" She saw the clouds darkening."I should go."She tried to stand, but the pain was a white-hot needle.
A few minutes later, the boy returned, breathless, clutching a tube of ointment.
"Don't move, I got it," he panted.
"I don't need it," Min said stubbornly, trying to stand. The pain flared instantly, and she hissed. He caught her hand, his expression serious. "Your wound isn't swollen yet, but if it isn't treated right away, it will be a problem tomorrow."
Min grumbled but sat back down. She tried to take the tube from him. "I'll do it myself."
"No need. Don't worry," he smiled, expertly unscrewing the cap. He began to apply the cool gel to her skin, his fingers moving with focused care. Min's hand retreated; she found herself unable to say another word. She watched him work, the way his brows furrowed in concentration. A small, secret smile touched her lips.
"There," he stood up, wiping his hands. "It shouldn't get worse now."
He then did something even more unexpected. He turned his back to her and bent down, his broad shoulders inviting. "Hop on. I'll take you home."
Min's eyes widened. "I... I can manage!"
"Look at the weather," he teased, gesturing to the sky where lightning was erupting more frequently. "The alley is empty, and it's about to pour. If you don't hop on, you'll drench your rice cakes."
Min looked at her snacks, then at his back. She sighed. "Fine. But if you try anything, you'll pay for it!"
"Okay, Madam," he laughed. "Think of me as a robot , who was sent to help you."
Min smiled and hopped onto his back. He stood up with ease, his hands locking securely under her knees. "Hold on tight," he warned.
As they walked through the alley, the wind blew harder, sending a literal storm of petals over them. It was a scene from a dream. Min leaned her head slightly against his shoulder, observing the world from this new height.
"My name is Gu Wei," he said. "Sixteen. And you?"
Min's old pride flared up. "I won't say."
"Okay, Madam. At least give the robot directions so I can complete my mission."
Min giggled. "My name is Min. Take a left here."
"To ensure maximum customer satisfaction," Wei said with a grin, "the robot will now sing."
He began to hum, then sing a popular Chinese song from the radio. His voice was beautiful, vibrating through his back and into Min's chest. She found herself lost in the melody, vibing to the rhythm of his footsteps.
When they reached the gate of her apartment, he gently let her down. They stood under the first few drops of rain, looking at each other. The air was thick with an awkward, sweet tension.
"I'll leave now before the downpour," Wei said as lightning flashed.
"Wait!" Min hobbled inside, her heart thumping. She found an umbrella by the door and rushed back out. "Here! Take this—"
But the alley was empty. Gu Wei was gone. Min stood at the gate, clutching the umbrella, her heart heavy with a strange, new disappointment she couldn't quite name.
At Gu Mansion , 9PM
The Gu mansion was a quiet sanctuary of modern architecture and warm, dim lighting, standing in stark contrast to the humid, petal-strewn alley Gu Wei had just left. As he stepped through the heavy oak doors, the scent of expensive rain-dampened pavement followed him in.
Gu Wei's white shirt was translucent, clinging to his shoulders, and his dark hair was matted against his forehead, dripping onto the polished marble floor. His mother, Gu Lin, was standing in the foyer, her silhouette elegant even in her worry. She had been pacing, her eyes frequently darting to the clock.
"Wei-ah!" she cried, her voice a mix of relief and reprimand. "Where did you go? Look at you—you're fully drenched!"
She turned her head sharply toward the hallway. "Yan! Bring a towel, quickly!"
The maid hurried into the room a moment later, handing a thick, plush white towel to Gu Lin. Gu Wei didn't look like a boy who had just been caught in a storm; he looked like a boy who had just discovered a secret treasure. A lingering, dreamy smile played on his lips as he stepped toward his mother.
He placed both hands on Gu Lin's shoulders, his touch damp but warm. "Mama, we just returned from abroad. I wanted to see how the area has changed. I just took a stroll to reacquaint myself with the streets."
Gu Lin didn't look convinced. She began rubbing his head vigorously with the towel, her brow furrowed. "A stroll? In this weather? You went alone, Wei. This city has changed a lot in ten years; it could be dangerous. What if you had slipped? What if you ran into trouble?"
Wei laughed, a light, melodic sound. He pulled the towel from her hands, shaking his head like a wet puppy. "Don't worry, Mama. Nothing happened. Look at me—I'm perfectly fine."
To prove his point, he did a playful, theatrical swing in a circle, his arms wide. As he spun, droplets of rainwater flew off his hair, splashing directly onto Gu Lin's pristine silk blouse.
"Wei!" she gasped, half-annoyed and half-amused, wiping a drop from her cheek. "You brat! Look what you've done."
Wei offered her a mischievous wink, the kind that had always gotten him out of trouble since he was a toddler.
"Go," Gu Lin commanded, pointing toward the grand staircase. "Take a hot shower immediately. If you catch a cold now, you won't be able to attend the SHS opening ceremony tomorrow. Your father would be very disappointed if you missed your first day."
Wei's expression softened, his eyes turning toward the stairs. "Don't worry, Mama. I wouldn't miss my first day for anything. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be... very interesting."
He bounded up the stairs, two at a time, leaving a trail of damp footprints behind. Gu Lin stood in the foyer, watching him go. She noticed that he wasn't just humming a tune; he was smiling at his own hands, as if he could still feel the weight of someone he had just helped.
At Shanghai High School , at 9am
The morning of September 3rd was sweltering, the Shanghai humidity clinging to the crisp, unwashed fabric of thousands of new school uniforms. On the vast athletic field of Shanghai High, the air was electric, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the looming shadow of a decade-old war.
"The Opening ceremony of Senior High"
Gu Hang, a freshman in the Senior High division, was a portrait of nerves. He paced near the edge of the bleachers, adjusting his tie for the tenth time, his eyes scanning the crowd.
"Brother Hang!"
Hang froze, turning toward the melodic, familiar voice. Gu Wei was walking toward him. In the sharp lines of the SHS International Division uniform—a navy blazer with silver piping—Wei looked like he had stepped out of a high-fashion editorial. His posture was relaxed, a stark contrast to the rigid students around him.
"Brother Wei!" Hang let out a yell of pure joy, lunging forward and trapping Wei in a suffocating bear hug.
"Hang... can't... breathe..." Wei wheezed, tapping Hang's shoulder with a grin.
Hang pulled back, his hands still gripping Wei's shoulders as he inspected him. "I thought I wouldn't see you today! You missed the entire week of military training. I was worried you'd been held back in London."
Wei adjusted his lapels, his eyes bright. "Passport issues. We only touched down yesterday." He began to walk with Hang toward the assembly lines, his eyes curiously taking in the massive stage and the banners. "The organization here is incredible. It looks like a professional summit."
Hang's expression darkened slightly. "That's because it's a battlefield, Wei. All of this was organized by the Student Council and the Youth League. They've been fighting over the logistics for a month."
"Who are these people?" Wei asked, looking around. "And where are our old friends? Bo, Hao, Mei? I haven't seen a single face I recognize."
"I should warn you about them," Hang began, his voice dropping to a cautious whisper. "Firstly—"
"ALL STUDENTS GATHER!" The speakers roared, cutting him off.
The Principal stood at the podium, his face a mask of practiced neutrality. "Let us welcome the two most distinguished squads from this year's military training."
Le Mei stood at the head of the East Wing squad. In her tailored military fatigues, she was the definition of "Goddess-like" authority. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight and perfect it looked sculpted from obsidian. Her skin was porcelain, contrasting sharply with the olive drab of her uniform, and her eyes held a calm, terrifying depth.
Beside her, Chen Bo and Zhang Hao stood like statues of marble. Every movement was deliberate—she didn't just walk; she commanded the space around her.
Hang leaned into Wei's ear. "Look closely. That's our childhood." Wei's eyes widened, his breath hitching. "Mei? That's... Le Mei?"
"She's the President of the Student Council," Hang whispered. "She's been the top fraction since we were six. They represent the elite."
The crowd erupted in applause as Mei's squad took their positions. Then, from the right, another march began.
Jiang Min led her group with a fierce, aggressive energy. Her military cap was pulled low, her eyes burning with an intensity that made the students in the front row flinch. She didn't just march; she conquered the ground beneath her.
Wei's heart skipped a beat. A slow, shocking smile spread across his face. It was her. The girl from the alley.
"And that," Hang said grimly, "is the Communist Youth League. They hold equal power. They're the protectors of the middle class. Min and Mei have been at each other's throats since primary school. It's a rivalry that even the Principal is afraid to touch."
The Military March & Flag Raising
"Squads, forward march!" the drill instructor roared.
The two groups began their approach toward the flagpoles. It was a symphony of discipline. The Student Council moved with a rhythmic, elegant stomp-glide, their feet hitting the ground in perfect unison, heads held high with aristocratic poise. The Youth League countered with a thunderous, aggressive strike-march, their boots hitting the pavement with a force that vibrated through the spectators' chests.
As they reached the base of the poles, Mei and Min stepped forward. Their gloved hands met the rope at the same time. As the national anthem began to play, they pulled in perfect synchronicity, the red flag rising toward the blue Shanghai sky. Their knuckles brushed—a cold, fleeting contact that sent a spark of electricity through both. Neither flinched. They stared straight ahead, two queens guarding their respective heavens.
The Battle of the Podium
The Principal cleared his throat. "Let us hear from our top Zongkao scorer and Student Council President, Le Mei."
Mei stepped onto the stage. As she reached the podium, she smoothed her uniform, her movements fluid and "Goddess-like." She looked out at the sea of students and smiled—a warm, genuine-looking beam that felt like sunshine.
"Fellow students, excellence is not a gift; it is a legacy. We stand at the gates of Senior High not just to learn, but to refine ourselves into the leaders of tomorrow. A vibrant community is built on the spirit of connection and the grace of high standards." Mei began, her voice melodic and inviting. "If you re-appoint my team, we will ensure SHS remains a sanctuary of elegance and mutual support. We are the architects of our own destiny. Let us build it with poise."
The applause was thunderous, The " Gold Circle " erupted in a coordinated,. Mei stepped aside, her expression serene.
"And now," the Principal continued, "the leader of the Star Squad and Youth League, Jiang Min."
Min didn't walk to the podium; she marched. As she passed Mei, the two girls exchanged a glance so sharp it could have drawn blood. Min gripped the edges of the podium, her knuckles white.
"Senior High is not a playground for 'connections,'" Min barked, her voice cold, rigid, and commanding. ""Responsibility. Discipline. Duty. These are not just words; they are the blood of this nation.It is a forge. Abandon your childish fantasies of 'vibrant communities' and face the reality of the Gaokao. My team does not offer grace; we offer protection and the grit to survive. We are here to serve the people and fulfill our duty. Do not seek to be 'elegant.' Seek to be unbreakable."
The silence that followed was heavy. The "Strivers" let out a boisterous, chaotic cheer, several students punching the air. Min looked directly at Mei, her gaze a silent challenge., while other students clapped out of sheer intimidation.
Wei watched, fascinated. He saw the way Min's jaw remained set even after she finished.
"You better not meddle with them," Hang warned, seeing the look in Wei's eyes. "The International Division is a bubble. Stay in it. Don't let their war touch you."
Wei didn't look away from the two girls standing like opposing statues on the stage. He adjusted his silver blazer and smiled. "Don't worry, Hang. I think I know exactly how to handle them."