Chapter 7: Distance and Differences

Traffic's distant hum drifted through the open dorm window as Lin Feng stared at his phone's screen.

Mom: "Xiao Feng, did you eat well?"

Mom: "You're not skipping meals, right?"

Mom: "Are you sleeping alright? Your dad reminds you that you need to study, but you also need to take care of yourself…"

His throat constricted.

He could imagine his mother sitting on the creaky wooden bench in their small rural house, phone in hand, gazing at the screen as she awaited his response. The walls would be papered with old newspapers—since wallpaper was too pricey. The kitchen would smell of rice porridge and pickled vegetables, humble meals she had been consuming for years to make ends meet.

And his father—a proud, reserved man who did not often send messages—would be standing nearby, feigning indifference but occasionally looking over to check if Lin Feng had responded.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

What could he write?

That he had been skipping meals? That he had to ration his money so carefully that even spending ¥18 on noodles felt like a luxury? That he was constantly surrounded by people who treated ¥300 as if it were spare change?

No.

He typed quickly.

Lin Feng: "I'm eating well, Mom. Don't worry."

Lin Feng: "Classes are a little busy, but everything is fine."

A moment later, the dots appeared—his mother typing a reply.

Mom: "Good, good. We don't want you to worry too much. Just focus on your studies. We're proud of you."

Proud of him.

Lin Feng let out a deep sigh and placed down his phone.

He couldn't disappoint them.

Even if things were not easy at the moment, he needed to just keep going.

An Unequal Playing Field

That afternoon, Lin Feng was sitting outside the campus library to take a few minutes off class. The sun was casting long shadows across the stone pathways because of the walking students, small groups of friends talking and laughing together.

Across the way from Lin Feng were a group of wealthy students hanging out, carelessly leaning on an expensive black BMW 5 Series.

"That's insane. VIP tables in that new club downtown start at ¥5,000," one said.

"¥5,000? Pfft, that's peanuts. We've spent more than that last weekend on alcohol alone."

"Hey, Shen Yue, you wanna come with us this Friday?"

Lin Feng's eyes lifted upon hearing the name.

Shen Yue.

A well-known campus beauty—long, silky hair, bright eyes, and a soft elegance that made her stand out. She wasn't just pretty; she carried herself with a natural confidence, as if she belonged in the world of the wealthy without even trying.

She smiled politely at the guy who had invited her. "Thanks, but I already have plans this weekend."

"Plans?" The guy chuckled. "Come on, don't tell me you're studying? What's the point of being young if you don't enjoy yourself?"

Shen Yue merely smiled, obviously accustomed to this sort of notice.

Lin Feng turned away.

He had never even talked to her before. Why would he?

Their worlds were worlds apart.

To boys like him, spending ¥5,000 in one night was nothing. To him, it was a fantasy.

It was just another reminder.

No matter how much he practiced, some students came into the test with everything ready to go and others fought for every step.

Unexpected Adventure

Lin Feng turned to his notebook, scouring the pages of notes he had.

"Mind if I sit here?"

He looked up.

A young woman stood before him, a stack of books clutched in her hands. Her name was Su Mei—one of the best in his economics class. She wasn't flashy like Shen Yue, but she was quietly charming, always with a book under her arm and an intent look.

Lin Feng paused before gesturing for her to proceed. "Go ahead."

She sat down opposite him and let out a sigh. "I just completed a group project. I think I lost brain cells listening to some of the stupidity they were spouting."

Lin Feng smiled slightly. "That bad?"

She rolled her eyes. "One guy kept going on about how hard work alone ensures success—as if money and connections don't come into it. I mean, do these people even exist in reality?"

Lin Feng was taken aback. Most students did not speak this way.

He shut his book. "So what do you think, then?"

Su Mei drummed her pen on the table. "I think it takes effort. But let's face it—not everyone begins from the same starting point. Some people can fail repeatedly because their parents will always be there to bail them out. Others… don't have that option."

Lin Feng regarded her for a moment.

She didn't come from an affluent family. That much was clear from what she wore—simple but neat, no fashion brand.

It was the first time in some time that he felt like he was communicating with someone who might understand.

A Call From Home

That night, on his way back to his dorm, his phone rang.

His mother's number flashed on the screen.

He picked up promptly. "Mom?"

"Xiao Feng, are you busy?"

"No, I just came back to the dorm. What's up?"

She paused for a second before speaking. "Your dad went to the hospital today… they told him that his back issues are worsening."

Lin Feng's hold on his phone grew tighter.

His father had worked hard for years—lifting heavy things, putting in endless hours in the fields. Naturally, it was affecting his body.

But medical care wasn't inexpensive.

"How bad is it?" he asked softly.

"He just needs to rest," his mother replied hastily. "Nothing serious."

Lin Feng was no fool. If it weren't serious, she wouldn't have phoned.

"Mom, how much will the treatment be?"

A pause. Then, in a gentler tone, she replied, "The doctor said around ¥8,000."

Lin Feng's heart sank.

He looked at his bank account again. ¥5,630.

Not enough.

But he couldn't let them worry.

"I'll find a way," he said. "Don't worry, Mom."

Another silence. Then his mother's soft voice: "Xiao Feng, we understand that it's not easy for you either. We just… we don't want you to overexert yourself."

Lin Feng smiled, even though she couldn't see him. "I'll be okay, Mom. Ask Dad to rest, all right?"

After the call was ended, he sat in silence.

His father required ¥8,000.

And he was nowhere near that.

A Choice

Lin Feng glanced at his phone.

He could continue selling phones, but it was too slow. Too slow.

He wanted something better than selling a few secondhand things.

Something big, quicker, and something much better.

His mind came up with ideas in motion.

And then it hit him, one after the other.

Dangerous. Would take a lot of work, but if he could pull it off, well.

It would no longer be about little profit transactions.

It would be something worthwhile.

And he had no choice but to make it happen.

Failure was not an option.