Prodigy’s Playground

Chapter 56 Willfulness

Driven by curiosity, Wang Hao also bent down, propping his hands on his knees, to study the image on the stone wall.

“Why don’t you try searching it online?”

Mm.

That really was a good idea.

If he had seen this logo in an animation or a movie, there would definitely be traces of it on the internet.

Jiang Ran took out his phone and began searching related elements.

The result…

Nothing.

There were no similar results at all—not even the slightest related trace.

That was strange.It was his first time in Qin Feng’s hometown, a place that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

If there were any way that he, Qin Feng, or other children in the village could all have seen this Ferris wheel logo… then the only possibility was that it came from some animation, film, or game with a certain level of circulation.

So why was there not the slightest trace of it online?

“Forget it.”

Jiang Ran shook his head.

Memory was an ambiguous thing. The more distant a memory was, the harder it was to seek out. Rather than getting stuck on this, it would be better to ask more villagers about Qin Feng’s whereabouts.

“Let’s walk around the village.”

Jiang Ran stood up and looked at Wang Hao.

“They say old people forget things easily. That old man was too old—let’s find some other villagers and ask around.”

“OK.”

Wang Hao made a gesture.

“On the way here, I saw a bunch of aunties chatting at the village entrance. That’s the real CIA intelligence center. Let’s go talk to them!”

Vrooom———

The old Jetta sped along the highway, the German internal combustion engine producing a noisy yet dependable roar.

Wang Hao focused on driving.

Jiang Ran lay back in the passenger seat, thinking about everything related to Qin Feng.

After leaving the ruins of Qin Feng’s home, the two of them asked many uncles and aunties around the village. Everyone knew Qin Feng’s family and told plenty of stories from Qin Feng’s childhood.

But that was all.

Regarding the death of Qin Feng’s father, Qin Yongxiao, the disappearance of Qin Feng and his mother, and the fire that destroyed the house… everyone’s account was basically the same. They obtained no useful information at all.

Jiang Ran had originally thought that this worldline change would be a very simple matter—nothing more than Qin Feng suffering once in order to save his father.

Yet he hadn’t expected that.

As the investigation went deeper, things became increasingly obscure, threads upon threads tangled together.

No clues. No leads. No answers.

Nothing.

No way forward.

Suddenly.

Jiang Ran thought again of that meaningless Ferris wheel pattern.

He took paper and pen from the center console armrest and, stroke by stroke, drew the image carved into the courtyard wall—

First, a large circular ring, with eight small circles evenly distributed along the outside.

Each small circle was split into two halves, the lower half shaded black.

Then he added the triangular support frame at the bottom, and a flat, simple Ferris wheel sketch came to life on the page.

Finally, there was the large eye in the center of the Ferris wheel, its pupil wide and staring.

Drawing the image from the stone wall onto paper made it feel even more abstract and unsettling.

“What exactly happened ten years ago?”

He raised the slip of paper toward the sky, reddened by the setting sun, as if he could see Qin Feng’s silhouette walking against the sunset.

“Qin Feng…”

“How many secrets are you really hiding?”

…

The next day.

Jiang Ran and Wang Hao took the high-speed rail back.

They had to hurry and get to real work.

This May Day holiday trip back to Hang City could be said to have yielded nothing at all.

It would honestly have been better to stay in the school library studying circuits and repair the Positron Cannon sooner.

As soon as he returned to campus, Jiang Ran headed straight for the library.

Although the academic atmosphere at the university wasn’t particularly strong, the library had everything it should.

To study outdated, obsolete products like CRT picture tubes, books were more aligned with the era—and more useful—than information found through online searches.

CRT Picture Tube Structure and Working Principles, Complete Guide to Television Repair, Detailed Explanation of Electron Beams and Focusing Units, Electronic Circuits and Fabrication…

After borrowing the relevant books, Jiang Ran carried them to a desk by the window and began an immersive study session.

He hadn’t expected—

Less than half an hour after sitting down, Nan Xiuxiu arrived in a dazzling flash of pink hair.

Today she wore denim hot pants and a white T-shirt. Bathed in sunlight, her skin was frighteningly pale.

Wang Hao’s earlier assessment was correct—only someone pretty enough, with a good figure and skin as fair as snow, could pull off waist-length pink hair.

But Jiang Ran had no interest in appreciating that.

What puzzled him was—

It was a rare May Day holiday. Wasn’t Nan Xiuxiu going out to have fun? Why was she staying on campus?

And also…

Just three days ago, they had had a huge argument in the cafeteria. Nan Xiuxiu had slammed the table in anger and stormed off.

Jiang Ran had thought she would sulk for at least a few days and give him some peace and quiet.

How had she already soothed herself this quickly?

Did this woman really not hold grudges at all?

“For you.”

Nan Xiuxiu placed a cup of coffee on the desk and casually sat down beside him.

“Wang Hao said you were here.”

That traitor Wang Hao…

Jiang Ran looked at the coffee in front of him.

It seemed this was Nan Xiuxiu’s signal to make up.

He didn’t say anything.

He continued.

Over the following days, he spent all his time in the library.

Studying seriously. Taking notes seriously. Researching everything about why CRT picture tubes had been eliminated by history.

Whenever Nan Xiuxiu had time, she would come here and sit beside Jiang Ran.

She didn’t read a single page.

She came here either to play on her phone or watch TV dramas. Every time she came, she would bring Jiang Ran milk tea, coffee, snacks, and the like.

Ding-dong.

A WeChat notification sounded. Only then did Jiang Ran realize his phone wasn’t on silent. He hurriedly picked it up.

It was a message from Xu Yan.

[Xu Yan: Jiang Ran, we’ve been working day and night and finally finished shooting and editing the microfilm. Luckily, we made the festival submission deadline. Do you want to watch the sample cut? Give me your email address and I can send it to you.]

Oh.

He had been so busy lately that he’d forgotten all about this.

To be honest, Jiang Ran’s mind was completely elsewhere right now. He had no mood at all to watch this kind of thing.

But saying that outright would be a buzzkill.

[Jiang Ran: Sure, I’ll send you my email address right away. Wishing you success at the film festival—looking forward to good news!]

After replying with his email address, Jiang Ran set his phone to silent and placed it back on the desk.

Beside him, Nan Xiuxiu glanced over.

She took off her earphones and looked at Jiang Ran.

“I think the two of us need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Jiang Ran didn’t look up.

“I’m not saying you have to be with me every day, but as a couple—and we’re in the honeymoon phase—shouldn’t we occasionally go on dates, eat together, go shopping, things like that?”

“I still need to study.” Jiang Ran continued writing.

“…”

Nan Xiuxiu bit her lower lip, her brows knitting together.

“Jiang Ran, you’ve changed.”

“How have I changed?”

“The old you wouldn’t study like this.”

Nan Xiuxiu said seriously.

“I’ve never seen you read books before. You didn’t listen in class either—you just stared off into space. How are you suddenly like a completely different person now?”

“If I don’t study, how will that work?”

Jiang Ran flipped a page.

“It’s a junior college to begin with—a low starting point. If I don’t study properly, what am I supposed to do after graduation?”

“As long as you have money, that’s enough.” Nan Xiuxiu dismissed it.

Jiang Ran stopped what he was doing and looked up.

“Is your family very rich?”

“It’s okay, I guess. I think my family is pretty well-off.”

“If you’re rich, why are you in a junior college?”

Jiang Ran laughed.

“If your dad were really rich, he should’ve sent you to an international high school and then abroad to coast through a degree. Or at the very least, go the art student route—it’d be easy to get into a bachelor’s program.”

“But I don’t like those.”

Nan Xiuxiu gathered her hair.

“I don’t like going abroad, and I don’t like singing or painting either. My parents said it’s up to me where I want to study and what I want to do in the future—they’ll support me unconditionally.”

“Alright, alright.”

When paths differ, there’s no point arguing. Jiang Ran didn’t bother debating her.

“You really are willful.”

He picked up his pen and continued writing.

“You have a good family and good parents. You don’t have to worry about making a living in the future.”

“But we’re not the same. You have the capital to be willful. We don’t.”

Tap—

The pen in his hand was snatched away.

Jiang Ran felt his right hand go empty, leaving a black streak across his palm.

“What are you doing?” He looked up at Nan Xiuxiu.

Nan Xiuxiu gripped the pen in her right hand and glared at him.

“Is that really willfulness?”

“Isn’t it?” Jiang Ran shot back.

“There are lots of things in this world that I don’t like. Movies I don’t like watching. Books I don’t like reading. Things I don’t like doing. People I don’t like.”

Her voice was earnest.

“My life is limited. My time and energy are limited. The things I can like are also limited.”

“I truly don’t understand—why should I do things that I don’t like?”

She stared straight into Jiang Ran’s eyes, her gaze filled with unfamiliarity.

“I haven’t hurt anyone. I haven’t broken the law or betrayed my conscience. So why, in your eyes…”

“[Choosing to live the life I like—is considered willfulness?]”