Painting the Thousandth Heartbeat

My new deskmate, Lu Chen, is an iceberg. I’m frozen to the bone. Then I find the IMO national team selection notice he threw away and realize he’s no ordinary person. Crushed by his invisible “aura” on the rooftop, I think my life is over. But he suddenly appears. He hands me a piece of candy to steady my nerves. Then he reveals a secret: he needed three days to solve the problem that broke me. He redefines our relationship: “You’re not weak. You’re the first person who’s dared to challenge me.” He adds me as a friend and sends me a “beginner’s gift pack,” Competitive Mindset Optimization Strategy V1.0. I’m completely baffled. This man has no feelings, only logic. He added me to make sure I get enough glucose. He sent me his “secret manual” because he considers me a “high-quality asset” worth “investing in.” He even drew up a precise 24-hour “sample enhancement plan,” down to the second, and volunteered to supervise me himself! When he orders me to drink my orange juice, cold-faced and checking his watch, my friend loses it. “Is he crazy?” But I smile. Because I see the note on the plan: “The subject has a history of low blood sugar. Ensure regular sugar intake to prevent mood swings from affecting calculation efficiency.” So this is what kindness looks like from a top genius. It’s just that the ultimate purpose of this kindness is apparently to see if I can surpass him. “You’re the only ‘sample’ I’ve found so far worth investing in.” Is this the most hardcore confession in history, or… a cold-blooded scientific experiment?