Dragons begin with courage

Imagine that on that rainy day, Chu Zihang invited Lu Mingfei to get in the car.

Imagine if Chu Zihang mustered the courage to crash into Odin in the Nibelungen.

If Lu Mingfei had chosen to join the Lionheart Society when he enrolled in school...

That day, the rain line veered two degrees to one side, causing the butterfly to flap its wings prematurely, and its fate took a different turn.

If you're not lucky, then use courage to buy on credit.

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Chu Zihang stood by the window, staring blankly at the rain.

Half an hour ago, the playground was bustling like a market, with cars parked haphazardly, hazard lights flashing a chaotic yellow glow, and everyone honking their horns and shouting their children's names. In the pouring rain, the students couldn't find their own cars and wandered around like headless flies.

Everyone has been taken away now, and the teaching building and playground are empty. The sky-blue school flag of "Shilan Middle School" flutters violently in the storm.

The music ended and the audience dispersed.

Chu Zihang was the only one left in the classroom. It was as dark as midnight outside, and the pale light cast a long shadow of him, which was reflected on the ground in solitude, like a shadow forgotten by the world.

He took out his phone, put it on speakerphone, and placed it on the table as a mini radio.

"Zihang? Mom's sheltering from the rain at Jiuguang Department Store. She can't get a car, so you'll have to go home by yourself, okay? *kiss*"

The phone call ended more decisively than rain, leaving behind a busy tone, like two perfunctory claps.

He closed the lid without uttering a word—just announcing: I'm still alive, you can continue shopping. Adults can be quite naive sometimes: when a child reaches out for comfort, they think you're asking for candy.

Outside the school gate, the taxi roof lights were all red, like a string of neon lights of rejection. Grandma was right—Mom was heartless; in Stepfather's schedule, picking up the child was a "negligible error." Chu Zihang tucked his fingertips into his sleeve, not intending to dial that number.

Having a wealthy "dad" is something many people desire.

But Chu Zihang felt that he didn't want it.

The door was pried open by the wind, and rain stung in, falling like needles onto the back of his neck. He zipped his coat up to the top, put his hands back in his pockets, and continued to play the role of a silent, isolated island.

Suddenly, half a face, reddened by the rain, peeked in through the doorway. Long hair dripped water, and a Hello Kitty hair clip flashed, like the reflection of shattered glass.

"Chu Zihang...a typhoon is coming, my car is right outside the door."

Her voice grew softer and softer, the last syllable drowned out by her heartbeat—the first confession of youth often uses an umbrella as an excuse.

Of course he knew Liu Miaomiao—the piano soloist at the gala, and a frequently mentioned name in late-night talks in the boys' dormitory.

"It's my turn to work, I'll go back by myself."

A nod is polite, like turning off an unnecessary light.

Standing by the window, Chu Zihang saw Liu Miaomiao's driver open a huge black umbrella over her head. Liu Miaomiao took off her strappy sandals, and the driver knelt down to help her put on rain boots. Liu Miaomiao then carefully walked under the umbrella towards the black BMW with its "angel eye" headlights shining through the rain.

In 05, three years before the Beijing Olympics, someone who had reached the highest level of piano proficiency, whose family owned a BMW and had a chauffeur, was undoubtedly from a wealthy family, if not a rich one.

However, fifteen-year-old Chu Zihang didn't feel anything about these things. He just glanced at them indifferently and then looked away.

Just as Chu Zihang was about to look away, a voice caught his attention.

"Hey! Liu Miaomiao, Liu Miaomiao! Give me a ride!" A young boy shouted to Liu Miaomiao from under the eaves.

"Lu Mingfei, you can go by yourself! My house isn't in the same direction as yours!" Liu Miaomiao got into the car without looking back and patted the rain off her clothes.

Under the eaves, Lu Mingfei's voice was broken by the pounding rain. The BMW didn't turn around, leaving him only two red lights that grew smaller and smaller, like Christmas decorations fading into the distance.

His squatting posture resembled a stray dog ​​huddled in a street corner, soaked by the rain. Just like many years ago, when I was waiting for someone and huddled on the steps of the police station.

He had actually heard of Lu Mingfei before, the lower-grade student whose parents were often absent and who, after being mocked, had erupted and injured a classmate. When the dean of academic affairs was giving a lecture, Chu Zihang happened to pass by and caught a glimpse of the boy with his neck stiff and his eyes wide open, but there was something familiar in his eyes that he didn't want others to see.

Perhaps it was that thing that caught his attention at that moment.

However, at that moment, the rain shifted two degrees, and a white butterfly flitted across the rain curtain, its wings covered with water droplets, like a crumpled and unfolded letter.

It shouldn't have appeared on a typhoon night, but it landed on Lu Mingfei's eyelashes.

So he looked up, and through the torrential rain, he was met with a pair of eyes that he shouldn't have seen.

Suddenly, their eyes met, gazing at each other across the distance.

! ! ! ! !

Chu Zihang suddenly panicked. He didn't know if it was because he had been caught listening to gossip, or for some other reason, but when Lu Mingfei looked at him, Chu Zihang felt like he wanted to look away.

"Want a ride?"

A bolt of lightning flashed and disappeared in the clouds, followed by a deafening explosion. The flash illuminated the profiles of the two people, while the butterfly, in Lu Mingfei's place, disappeared into the rain.

In that instant, the gears of fate gently shifted a tooth.

No one heard a "click".