Ficorpio
Chapter 1
During my first semester, our laboratory practicum instructor stood at the front of the classroom in a light-gray overcoat, his features cool and composed.
When he introduced himself as Ethan Sterling, the pen slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a sharp clatter.
He lifted his eyes. They paused for the briefest moment when they landed on my face.
Then his thin lips parted. “Chloe Bennett. Come up and solve this problem.”
I froze where I stood.
A bolt of lightning seemed to split through my mind. The problem he had assigned was the exact one The Weiming Lake Passerby had explained to me just two nights ago.
And the online tutor I had fallen for, the man who had pushed me to aim for Peking University before I blocked him for more than half a year, used the online name The Weiming Lake Passerby.
This had to be a joke.
How could the man who was so obsessed with Peking University have appeared at Tsinghua University—and become my senior, my assigned lab supervisor, and our guest instructor?
After the high-school curriculum split into science and humanities, my science grades plunged off a cliff. I stared at my mock-exam rankings until I could barely sleep. At this rate, getting into Tsinghua would be impossible. I might not even clear the cutoff for a top-tier university.
My father enrolled me in three tutoring programs, but none of them made much difference. Desperate, I decided to try my luck and sent a private message to a boy whose username was The Weiming Lake Passerby on the Online Learning Exchange App I used every day.
His profile was simple:
Tsinghua University graduate student on the Direct-Entry Doctoral Track, studying materials and engineering. Available for high-school science tutoring.
His profile picture was a photograph of Weiming Lake. Everything about it looked clean, reliable, and quietly impressive.
After thinking over my words for several minutes, I finally sent, “Hello, senior. My science grades are terrible, and I’d like to hire you as a tutor. How much do you charge?”
He replied within minutes.
“No charge. I have time to spare. I can help you organize the material.”
I was so surprised that I immediately thanked him.
“No need to thank me.” A second message appeared almost at once. “Don’t worry. With me helping you, I guarantee you’ll get into Peking University.”
I stared at the screen, caught between laughter and disbelief, and hurriedly typed back, “No, no, senior. My goal is Tsinghua!”
“Seriously?” He sent an exasperated emoji. “Are you underestimating me, little sister? You can question your own intelligence, but you’re not allowed to question my tutoring.”
I sent back, “…”
Fine. I really didn’t dare question it.
Chapter 2
The more time I spent working with The Weiming Lake Passerby, the more I realized he truly knew what he was doing. His explanations were logical and clear. No matter how difficult a problem looked, he could break it down until the answer seemed simple.
What impressed me most was his patience. I could ask the same basic question over and over, and he never once sounded annoyed. Instead, he would find similar problems for me to practice, then teach me how to apply the same method in different situations.
With his help, my grades shot upward as if they had been strapped to a rocket.
During the second round of mock exams in my senior year, I scored 689 points and broke into the top ten in my grade.
Thrilled, I took a screenshot and sent it to him.
“Senior! I got 689!”
His reply was calm as ever.
“Good. With that score, Peking University is practically guaranteed.”
I stared at the message, troubled.
I knew he had a special attachment to Peking University. The Weiming Lake in his username was one of the university’s defining landmarks, and whenever he shared anything on his WeChat feed, it was usually a photograph of the campus or a notice about an academic lecture.
If I chose Tsinghua in the end, would he feel that I had betrayed all the effort he had put into helping me?
After hesitating for a long time, I decided to test the waters.
“What if… I can’t get into Peking University after all?”
“Impossible,” he replied instantly. “With the momentum you have now, you’ll get in as long as you perform normally. Don’t be nervous before the exam. Just keep reviewing one step at a time.”
Apparently, he thought I was suffering from pre-exam anxiety and was trying to comfort me.
I bit my lip.
In the end, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him about my dream of attending Tsinghua.
The day before the National University Entrance Examination, he sent me one final message.
“Do your best. I’ll be waiting for the good news when your results come out. I’m busy writing my thesis right now, so I might not be able to reply quickly. Remember to tell me as soon as the exam is over.”
I answered, “Okay.”
But my heart felt unbearably heavy.
On June 25, the National University Entrance Examination results were released.
716 points.
I stared at the score on my phone, my hands trembling. With a score like that, I was virtually guaranteed admission to either Kingsley or Westbridge.
I was still agonizing over which one to choose when Mom burst into my room at three in the morning.
“Chloe! The Westbridge University Admissions Office just called!” she cried. “They’ve guaranteed you a place in their flagship program. We’re accepting it!”
For a moment, I could only stare at her. Then joy surged through me.
Chapter 3
Westbridge University. The school I had dreamed of attending since I was a child.
But once the first rush of excitement faded, guilt quickly took its place. I thought of the Lakeside Stranger and the patient guidance he had given me for more than a year. I thought of how often he had told me, “You can make it into Kingsley.”
I couldn’t sit still.
It felt as though I were betraying someone important to me.
I clutched my phone all morning, trying to decide what to tell him. Before I could find the words, his message arrived.
“The results should be out by now. How did you do?”
The gentle concern in his words only made me feel worse.
Hardening my heart, I typed a reply.
“I didn’t do well. I won’t be able to get into Kingsley.”
After sending it, I stared at the screen, my heart pounding wildly. He didn’t reply. The silence tightened around me like a net, leaving me unable to breathe.
Before he had the chance to respond, I sent one more message.
“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”
Then, before I could lose my nerve, I blocked him and deleted the app.
When it was done, I collapsed into my chair, my chest aching with guilt. I knew what I had done was unfair and irresponsible, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth.
And I was even less prepared to face the disappointment I imagined in his eyes.
On the day of freshman orientation, I couldn’t help asking the driver to stop when we passed the gates of Peking University.
People streamed in and out of the entrance. Students in their uniforms walked with bright, confident smiles, while the ancient locust trees lining the campus spread their lush branches overhead. The whole place carried the weight of generations of scholarship.
“What’s wrong?” Sophie Hayes nudged me from the passenger seat. “Having second thoughts?”
I sighed. “Sort of. I came so close to studying here once.”
“Oh, please.” Sophie rolled her eyes and tugged at my sleeve, urging the driver to keep going. “Every Tsinghua student has to make the same dramatic comment when they pass Peking University. Can’t you come up with something original? Hurry up, hurry up! At this rate, someone’s going to take all the good seats in the library!”
I stared at her.
She was right. By the time we reached the library, every seat in the reading area was taken. There were still a few open spots in the study section, but students were reciting material aloud in several different languages. With all the noise echoing around us, concentrating was impossible.
“We’re doomed! I knew we shouldn’t have wasted so much time!” Sophie wailed. Then her eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait. There’s a spot over there!”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me across the room.