The drizzle is like silk, washing the bluestone road of Zhuque Street until it shines. Cheng Yanqiu stood in front of the red banner outside the Gongyuan. The rain dripped down the edge of his bamboo hat and spread a dark mark on his blue shirt. His eyes were fixed on the name in the third row on the list - "Cheng Yanqiu, from Qiantang County."
"You got it! Brother Cheng, you got it!" The classmate next to him slapped his shoulder hard, his voice full of joy, "The seventeenth place in the top two, this is a glorious ancestor!"
Cheng Yanqiu's lips trembled slightly, but he was speechless. Ten years of hard work finally paid off at this moment. He remembered the rickety back of his old father in his hometown, and his mother's words before she died, holding his hand and saying, "My son will become a great person," and his eyes couldn't help but heat up.
