ATLAS TRANSLATES

Life has meaning in every stage. Jiang Fuli had always had clear plans for his life. His desire to show her the beautiful and mysterious side of the world was genuine, as was his wish to take her to see the snow mountains.

Time stretches long, Jiang Fuli thought. He wasn’t someone who usually tried to please others, but with her, he couldn’t hide it.

He lowered his head slightly, blocking the light coming from the side. It cast his profile in a particularly cool light. His usually deep and aloof features appeared softer at this moment.

Outside the window, someone was setting off fireworks. Rose-shaped fireworks bloomed in the sky.

Fireworks were rare in this district. The sudden explosion caused many surprised exclamations from below.

Bai Lian looked up, her wrist still lazily resting on the windowsill. She didn’t seem very surprised. She had been in this world for over a year now, and Jiang He was the first friend she made here.

Thinking back to that night, the moonlight was beautiful. She was waiting with Jiang He for his brother, and called him by the wrong name at their first meeting. The memory was deeply etched in her mind. But then again, most times it was this person who stayed by her side.

They had walked together through countless quiet streets of Qingshui.

But Jiang Fuli was indeed the type who stood above worldly matters, standing in the clouds. Even He Wen feared and respected him. He was proud to the point of arrogance, this young master.

Outside, the fireworks continued to rise, exploding in the sky, the light flickering in his eyes.

The usually confident and composed Young Master Jiang wasn’t particularly confident at this moment.

His other hand pressed on her wrist that rested on the windowsill. His fingers were always cool, the temperature at his fingertips clearly showing restraint.

Bai Lian looked at him for a while and said, “Go open the door, someone’s outside.”

Jiang Fuli said “Oh,” instinctively releasing her hand and turning to open the door.

The food had arrived.

The manager bowed his head, respectfully serving the dishes. From this window, they could still see the last blooming fireworks.

He served the food and quickly retreated.

He also brought a pot of tea, with purple clay teapot and cups.

Jiang Fuli habitually poured a cup of tea for the seat opposite him. He calmly bent down to place the teacup and teapot properly, his shirt outlining slightly powerful curves on his frame.

Bai Lian still leaned casually by the window, hands clasped, her right hand still holding his glasses that had been left on the windowsill. Still in a relaxed state, she watched as Jiang Fuli poured tea and arranged the bowls and chopsticks.

The bright yellow tea soup released an obvious orchid fragrance the moment it was poured.

“They still serve old Banzhang here?” Bai Lian glanced at him and smiled.

“Yes,” Jiang Fuli lifted the silver carved lids from the silver plates one by one, his voice as calm and steady as ever. “All Jiang family shops have it.”

“Which season do you think is best?” Bai Lian walked to the dining table, the fireworks outside had disappeared.

Jiang Fuli didn’t react immediately. “What?”

“I mean,” Bai Lian sat across from him, placing his glasses aside, unhurriedly looking up, “when do you plan to take me?”

Jiang Fuli sat in his place, the thoughts hidden in his heart for so long, scattered across countless corners of Xiangcheng, today spilled out with the flying fireworks outside the window, and received a response.

“Ah,” he was still in a daze, “anytime, when would you like to go?”

Bai Lian picked up the teacup and slowly took a sip of tea.

The aged old Banzhang had a pure aroma, the tea soup was full-bodied, its strength could be felt as soon as it entered the mouth, dense and mellow, with a long-lasting sweet aftertaste.

“Winter break maybe,” Bai Lian thought briefly, “but not necessarily, I think there’s a summer camp during winter break.”

As she spoke, Jiang Fuli finally reacted. He sat in his place, blinked, his right hand pressing on the right edge of the table as he stood up. His slightly rolled-up sleeves revealed pale wrists with faintly protruding veins. His left hand, slightly calloused, gently brushed her chin as he kissed the corner of her lips, almost whispering: “Okay.”

—

After dinner, they returned to Shanhai Apartments.

They passed by the affiliated middle school.

At this time, even at Jiangda Affiliated Middle School, students were on break.

Zhang Ma ran a flower shop at the affiliated school, and at this time hadn’t closed yet. Business seemed good, with delivery riders frequently coming to pick up flowers.

Jiang Fuli parked by the roadside.

He had never been fond of romantic gestures – roses, garden roses, or even foxtails, they all looked the same to him.

Zhang Ma felt somewhat pressured facing Young Master Jiang. She asked, “Still want one rose?”

Jiang Fuli nodded gracefully, his well-defined fingers holding his phone, scanning the WeChat code displayed on Zhang Ma’s counter.

He took the flower handed to him.

It was a fresh rose, unwrapped, with white droplets rolling on its wine-glass shaped petals, making the rouge-colored rose appear even redder.

Jiang Fuli returned to the driver’s seat and handed the rose to the person in the passenger seat.

The car’s Bluetooth wasn’t playing dry academic lectures today, but rather a guzheng piece. It was Dean Jian’s music, who represented both elegance and passion.

His music was the same.

Jiang Fuli turned his head slightly. Bai Lian held the rose, casually pressing it against her cheek, her other hand resting diagonally on the car window. Her face, both reserved and bold, was just as described online: in the prime of youth, riding across the bridge, with red sleeves beckoning from every floor.

Indeed, roses only looked good in that person’s hands.

—

At Ji Shaojun’s residence.

Mu Yining sent Ji Shaojun and Shen Qing back. Today had been too nerve-wracking for her, so she accepted Ji Shaojun’s invitation to come up for tea.

Shen Qing didn’t have much to say to the Mu family people. She let Ji Shaojun talk with them while she went to the balcony to collect laundry.

When Dong Xiaobai sent Ren Wanxuan back, Mu Yining hadn’t left yet.

Ji Shaojun and Dong Xiaobai both worked in arts, so they could converse well, and stayed to have tea with Mu Yining.

The tea was rich. Mu Yining didn’t know how to appreciate tea, but Dong Xiaobai did.

He lowered his eyes, thinking briefly.

This wasn’t the kind of tea the Mu family would give to Ji Shaojun.

Strange, he had to ask.

Shen Qing answered nervously, “This is the tea Little Jiang brought.”

Little Jiang? Which one? Dong Xiaobai wanted to ask, but seeing Shen Qing’s expression, he withdrew his question and started talking about Ren Wanxuan’s matters with Mu Yining and Ji Shaojun.

“You say the Calligraphy Association chairman wants to recruit her?” Mu Yining was quite surprised hearing Dong Xiaobai’s words.

The Mu family didn’t study calligraphy much, but because of Dong Xiaobai, Mu Yining knew that the Calligraphy Association was very strict about recruiting members, after all, the association was under Chen’s and Jiang’s families’ protection, comparable to Dean Jian’s position in the national music circle.

She hadn’t expected Ren Wanxuan could enter the Calligraphy Association.

Ren Wanxuan looked at the stern-faced Ji Shaojun, uncomfortable with his attitude. She lowered her eyes: “Just lucky.”

She knew Bai Lian could also write Liang style, and wondered if her calligraphy had improved over this year.

“There is some luck involved,” Dong Xiaobai smiled. Ren Wanxuan’s skill level was far behind, and calligraphy also required certain talent. Ren Wanxuan lacked talent, but due to the Dong family’s connections, the association chairman was willing to give some face. The calligraphy world really favored Liang style. “My father himself never learned Liang style, but he quite likes seeing Wanxuan’s work.”

Many in the Dong family studied painting and calligraphy, but few could really write Liang style.

Among them, there wasn’t a single woman.

It couldn’t be helped, women naturally had less wrist strength. In the capital, among women who wrote good Liang style, there was only the vice chairman’s disciple Xu Yajun.

“Ah Lian’s characters are very beautiful too.” During their conversation, Shen Qing suddenly said.

Ji Shaojun had actually heard from Ji Heng that Bai Lian had spent a period last year practicing large characters with iron weights every day, but Ji Shaojun had only seen Bai Lian’s Guange style.

Were the Ji family genes that good?

Dong Xiaobai looked at Shen Qing, “She writes…”

“Called something Ge…” Shen Qing had heard Tang Ming and others mention it. Because of the style Bai Lian practiced, their science class students were criticized daily by teachers for not finding answers.

“Guange style,” Dong Xiaobai knew what it was as soon as he heard it, but also lost some interest. “It’s very beneficial for girls to practice this style.”

He and Mu Yining didn’t stay long at Ji Shaojun’s place.

The two got in the car together.

Because Shen Qing mentioned Bai Lian, Dong Xiaobai asked a few more questions about her.

“College entrance exam top scorer?” He was very surprised, sitting up straight from the passenger seat. “What did your old master say?”

Mu Yining shook her head.

Dong Xiaobai sat back properly, “He won’t come out of retirement even for a top scorer? But… your cousin’s branch seems to have much better genes than your branch. Top scorer, worthy of hanging a plaque in the clan. Pity I went back to the Dong family today, otherwise could have met your niece.”

Though he hadn’t met her, he was quite curious about Bai Lian.

Mu Yining found it strange too: “You wouldn’t have seen her even if you went. She seemed to have something on today, it was hard for me to even see her once.”

“Seven days of National Day holiday, even the most inhumane company should give time off. She just finished college entrance exams, still a student, right? What could she be busy with?”

Mu Yining wasn’t clear about the specific matter either.

Of Ji Shaojun’s two nieces, Ren Wanxuan was easy to see through, while Bai Lian always remained mysterious.

—

Seven days of National Day holiday sounded long, but time flew by in an instant.

On the eighth morning, many people wished they had a time machine in their hands, to press a button and return to the first day of holiday to start over.

In Tongfeng class, Tang Ming was raising his hand and swearing, “Really, after I copied it I put it between my books, it must have been Brother Ding who accidentally handed it in.”

Ding Wenyang had just arrived at class when such a big pot was placed on his head.

Other classmates were discussing something, with a crowd gathered around Gao Yuan, occasional exclamations of “One million three hundred thousand points already? What about you, Wang Xin, how many points do you have?”

“Just one million.”

“That’s not bad either,” someone near Gao Yuan spoke up, “You’ll definitely be in the mid-term practical test.”

Ding Wenyang sat bewildered beside Tang Ming, listening to their conversation, and also remembered something to ask Tang Ming, “How many points do you have on the app?”

“What points?” Tang Ming’s eyes shifted, changing the topic of putting blame on Ding Wenyang, hand resting on Ding Wenyang’s shoulder, “Tell me about it.”

“The preparatory camp’s app, don’t you know? Later many of our competition group entries and spots will look at the total points ranking. I have 900,000 points now.” Ding Wenyang spoke proudly of his score.

The newcomer question bank only lasted a year. After that, to get points, one could only do challenge questions.

Every million points was a watershed.

Eight million points could enter top twenty, nine million top five.

Seven million top forty, six million top eighty.

…

One million points meant top thousand.

900,000 now meant roughly top three thousand. This platform gathered geniuses from across the country over nearly twenty years. Among over ten thousand registered users, reaching top three thousand in a year was quite an achievement, so Ding Wenyang felt justifiably proud.

“You’re amazing.” Tang Ming praised sincerely.

“No worries, if you have any questions later, you can ask me.” Ding Wenyang was floating from the praise, and in his daze noticed Bai Lian sitting nearby.

She sat quite lazily. After National Day there had been rain, and Jianjing’s weather turned cold. She wore a sky-blue satin jacket, hair lightly pinned up, reading a paper.

Wait.

Ding Wenyang suddenly had a realization. He took out his phone, opened the blue app, and searched “Bai Lian.”

No results.

Very strange.

Ding Wenyang then casually searched Tang Ming’s name, and this time quickly found results.

[Account name: Tang Ming Monthly points: 58741 Total points: 1987449 Follows: 5 Followers: 2]

Ding Wenyang stayed on this page for quite a while, finger pausing there, then came back to his senses and tremblingly went to search for Ning Xiao.