Dragons begin with courage

Before Lu Mingfei even stepped into the house, the old-fashioned telephone on the coffee table in the living room started jumping wildly in his aunt's hallway like an electrified frog, its ringing sharp, urgent, and extremely penetrating.

"Who is it?! Calling me crazy?!" Auntie rushed out of the kitchen, hastily wiping her hands on her apron, and grabbed the receiver impatiently. "Feed?!"

What was said on the other end of the phone?

Soon, the usual impatience on her aunt's face receded like the tide, replaced by a blank stare. Her mouth was agape, her eyes fixed on the telephone, as if an invisible hand had reached out from the receiver and gripped her throat.

The uncle, who was reading the newspaper in the living room, sensed something was wrong. He looked up and saw his wife with disheveled hair and a blank stare, as if he had been struck squarely on the head by a bolt from the blue.

"What's wrong? A scam call?" the uncle asked, putting down his newspaper.

The aunt turned her head very slowly, in an almost stiff posture, to look at her husband, her eyes filled with disbelief and disorientation, as if she had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

Her lips moved a few times before uttering a dry, weak sound:

"It's approved..."

"What? What's approved? The divorce agreement?" The uncle didn't react in time.

"...Lu Mingfei," his aunt gasped, each word uttered with extraordinary difficulty, as if confirming an absurd fact, "that interview...he passed. He was...accepted by an American university."

! ! ! !

"Huh?!" The uncle's mouth opened into a perfect "O" shape.

"That Professor Guderian," Auntie's voice was still ethereal, as if she were sleepwalking, "let's go to the Regent Hotel tomorrow to discuss Lu Mingfei's... trip abroad."

Deathly silence. A suffocating silence, heavy and oppressive, enveloped the space of a few dozen square meters. Lu Mingze poked his large head out of his room, his face a mixture of bewilderment and a hint of anger at having his spotlight stolen.

The next day, at the Regent Hotel, in the Executive Lounge.

Beyond the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the city skyline, sunlight streaming through the spotless glass and dappling the gleaming marble floor. Lu Mingfei, dressed in a slightly faded cotton T-shirt, stood out starkly against the surrounding atmosphere of elegantly dressed people and hushed conversations. His uncle, unusually dressed in a suit and tie, sat upright with a slightly protruding belly, occasionally lecturing his two nephews in a low voice: "Look, this is what a high-class place is like! Don't touch the cutlery carelessly, keep the cutlery in order, behave properly, don't embarrass me!" His aunt, like a country bumpkin visiting a grand garden, looked around with wide-eyed wonder, touching the armrests of the velvet chair and exclaiming in admiration, "This material…this grandeur…so luxurious!"

"bite--"

The pleasant chime of the direct elevator rang, and the metal doors slid open silently. A burly old man with white hair like a lion's mane strode out, followed by Ye Sheng, calm and handsome, on his left, and Jiu Deya, with a sweet smile and refined manners, on his right. The three exuded an aura of authority and walked straight to the table by the window.

The old man, with a clear purpose, approached and, without a word, firmly grasped Lu Mingfei's hand with his large hands, shaking it vigorously, exclaiming enthusiastically, "Hello! Lu Mingfei! I'm so glad to meet you!"

"Hello... Professor Guderian?" Lu Mingfei was somewhat flustered by the overwhelming, almost scorching enthusiasm. He awkwardly withdrew his hand. "You... speak very good Chinese."

"Really? That's wonderful!" Professor Guderian's eyes lit up, and he was so happy he almost danced for joy. "I learned it from your CCTV's 'News Broadcast'! Our college is now promoting Chinese everywhere, and everyone knows that the future is in China! Didn't your newspaper predict that China's GDP will become the second largest in the world by 2050?"

While he was making small talk, Ye Sheng had already laid out all the prepared documents and pushed them in front of his uncle and aunt. Copies of the university's registration certificate with the U.S. Department of Education, various certification documents with embossed seals, college brochures... everything was complete and impeccably professional.

Looking at the papers printed with foreign languages ​​and official seals, and listening to Ye Sheng's introduction of Kassel College's "long history," "elite education," and "unique resources," the uncle, aunt, and even Lu Mingze stared wide-eyed, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of shock, envy, and disbelief. It was as if a door to another glittering world had suddenly opened before their eyes.

The only one at the center of the event—Lu Mingfei—remained with his head down, slowly poking at the fried egg on his plate with his fork, as if all the heated discussions and rosy plans around him were irrelevant to him, the "protagonist." Admission? America? Even a scholarship? It sounded like a story from another parallel universe.

"Professor Gu... Professor Gu," the uncle managed to regain his voice from the shock, his tone wary with the typical bourgeois mentality, "This... this scholarship, there aren't any strings attached, right? No need to sign any agreement, no need to repay the money later? Or... do you want him to do something dangerous? We need to make things clear first."

"No need! Absolutely not!" Professor Guderian declared righteously, waving his arms. "Scholarships are for rewarding outstanding students! Because Lu Mingfei is exceptionally outstanding!"

"That sounds a bit fake," the uncle muttered, shaking his head. He simply couldn't reconcile the word "excellent" with his nephew, who was at the bottom of the class and good for nothing.

Professor Guderian paused, seemingly making a decision, and lowered his voice slightly: "Of course, there are also some...personal reasons. Lu Mingfei's parents happen to be honorary alumni of our Kassel College, and have made generous donations to the college in the past. According to tradition, under the same conditions, we will give priority to the admission applications of children of alumni."

He observed Lu Mingfei's reaction, his tone becoming exceptionally gentle: "They've actually always cared about you. Oh, by the way, I also have a recent photo of your parents at the college, which your mother specially sent. And a handwritten letter she wrote to the college about your enrollment."

parents.

This word, like a fine needle, unexpectedly pierced Lu Mingfei's nearly numb nerve endings.

Lu Mingfei, who was sipping orange juice with his head down, paused almost imperceptibly. The knuckles of his hand gripping the glass tightened slightly. He didn't look up immediately, but a cold, sharp glint flashed across his usually droopy and listless eyes, like cold iron stirred from the bottom of a deep pool.

Not right.

From the inexplicably appearing "Nono" in the friends list, who is ridiculously strong in StarCraft, to this strange interview where she abstained but still passed, to this unexpectedly generous full scholarship... now, the "parents" who have been out of touch for six years and haven't even made a phone call have been brought up.

He wasn't stupid. He was just used to being indifferent. But at this moment, these deliberately pieced-together "coincidences" and "good intentions" were like a net that was too exquisite, revealing the stitches, making him smell something unusual.

However, that sharpness lasted for less than a second. Like a pebble thrown into a deep well, it created a ripple, only to be swallowed up by the deeper, heavier darkness.

Lu Mingfei blinked, and when he looked up again, his eyes held only the usual, slightly bewildered weariness, and a hint of indifference. That moment of alertness and coldness seemed like just an illusion caused by the flickering light.

It's not a disguise. It's genuine "still waters with gentle ripples".

His resistance, his expectations, the last vestiges of his passion for family—all had been silently suffocated, settled, and rotted beneath the surface of those six years. The Lu Mingfei of today is more like a shell drifting with the tide. What does it matter if it's real or fake? What difference does it make whether it's a windfall or a trap? Anyway… it doesn't matter anymore.

Falling into the water won't drown you, but staying in it will. He had been in the water for far too long, so long that he had forgotten even the instinct to struggle. His soul had long since drowned, leaving only an empty shell that was swelling day by day.

Professor Guderian took in Lu Mingfei's fleeting change in expression, a slight chill running down his spine. That was no ordinary eighteen-year-old's gaze; one moment it was sharp as a drawn sword, the next as calm as an unfathomable pool, the switch utterly seamless. S-rank… he thought silently. Indeed, beneath that calm exterior, perhaps some indescribable "monster" truly lurked.