The business management course at Donghai Evening College was designed for office workers and professionals seeking career advancement. It was not meant for teenagers.
Yet in the third row of Classroom 402 sat a boy who looked no older than seventeen.
His youthful face seemed fragile in comparison to those who carried the fatigue of full-time jobs and bills to pay. And his calm eyes were always fixed on the lecture. Despite wearing plain clothes, he kept himself with such quiet dignity that others glanced at him.
When Leo had first walked into her class, Professor Xu Meilin had been stunned. She had almost stopped him at the door. In her decades of teaching experience, she had never seen a boy so young in her advanced business management course. She personally checked his documents, though it was the admin's job.
But all his documents were in order. His identity and transcripts were flawless. She had no choice but to accept him.
At first, Leo seemed the weakest student in the class. He understood the flow of wealth but struggled with the technical details of the business world.
When Professor Xu lectured on financial reporting, he asked, "Why do companies in different countries use different accounting standards? Shouldn't numbers speak the same language everywhere?"
The classroom used to laugh at his silly questions, but there was always a clarity in his eyes.
He stumbled at first, but within weeks, he adapted at an incredible pace. By the end of the month, the boy who had once faced mockery was raising points so sharp that even seasoned professionals struggled to answer.
He absorbed the knowledge at a terrifying speed. He mastered in a day what took others weeks to understand.
Professor Xu often found her gaze drawn to him. His handwriting was clean. His notes were filled with diagrams she did not recognize. His eyes were calm yet sharp. And when he met her gaze, she sometimes felt a chill, as if she were staring at something far greater than a teenage boy. In her heart, she knew this boy was not ordinary.
Today marked the last lecture of the course. Professor Xu took the doubts and gave the best wishes for the upcoming examination. The next time they met, it would be inside the examination hall.
A wave of relief swept through the classroom. Some students stretched their stiff shoulders, while others exchanged jokes about how their bosses would finally respect them once this certificate appeared on their resumes. A few were even excited, talking about promotions, career shifts, and bonuses.
But Leo was quiet.
He closed his notebook slowly, his gaze sinking into the neat pages filled with diagrams, charts, and symbols only he could understand. His face carried a faint sense of loss. For the others, the course was a ladder to climb the corporate ranks. But Leo had different plans. Each lecture had been a bridge to a world he did not fully belong to, yet desperately needed to understand.
As usual, Professor Xu's eyes drifted toward him. She expected to see his calm determination, the same sharp focus that had impressed her time and again. But today she saw sadness in his eyes. After pondering for a few seconds, she called out gently.
"Leo, can you follow me to my cabin?"
Leo nodded silently and followed Professor Xu into her cabin. The room was modest, with bookshelves lining the walls and neatly stacked papers on her desk. She motioned for him to sit. She studied him for a long moment before speaking.
"Leo, are you nervous about the examination?" she asked gently. "It's normal to feel unsettled before something so important, especially at your age." She tried to boost his confidence.
Leo's expression remained calm, and he shook his head slowly. "I'm not nervous, Professor. It's just that I won't be sitting for the exam."
Her eyes widened. "What?" The word escaped sharper than she intended. "What do you mean you won't sit? Without the exam, you'll have no certificate. Why would you attend the course in the first place?"
Leo looked down for a moment, then lifted his gaze again and spoke with a steady tone. "I came to this college only for the learning. I've had no plans to appear in the finals."
Professor Xu leaned forward across her desk. "Leo, don't be foolish. I understand that knowledge is important, but the certificate is proof of it. Without it, you can't apply for good jobs. No company will recognize what you've learned."
Leo's calm voice cut through hers. "I'm not planning to apply for jobs."
The cabin fell into silence. Professor Xu opened her mouth, but no words came out. She had seen countless students waste potential, but never had she met someone who dismissed the very foundation of the system so easily.
Leo rose from his chair and gave her a respectful bow. "Thank you for your guidance, Professor. I've learned a lot from you. I won't forget it."
Before she could find her voice again, he turned and walked out, leaving her stunned in her seat.
Outside, the evening breeze brushed against Leo's face. The city lights flickered in the distance, feeling alive with ambition and struggle. He paused and turned back, then he gave a final bow toward the college building. Then, without hesitation, he walked into the night with his steps steady, as if the path ahead already belonged to him.
As he walked along the suburban street, lit by the scattered neon signs and the dull glow of streetlamps. He started recalling the moments he had spent in this small town. He had chosen to study here because this town wasn't like the bustling big cities.
The big city has too many eyes and systems to verify the details. His forged documents might not have withstood the scrutiny of the central bureau. On the other hand, the people here on the outskirts were less suspicious, and blending in was far easier. It had been simple enough to become just another evening student here.
Still, there was something about this quieter world that he had come to appreciate. The calm streets, the slower pace. It was all so different from the chaos of the world where he came from. His planet was filled with killing, betrayal, and greed. There are many evil people on Earth as well, but deep down, it still gave him a strange sense of peace.
A car roared past with its headlights slicing through the dark. Leo's eyes followed it, and he chuckled softly. That machine still amused him. Nearly two years had passed since he arrived on Earth, yet he could remember vividly the first time he saw a car.
Two years ago, when he first landed here, the streets had not felt so peaceful. After the teleportation from his planet, he appeared suddenly in the middle of a highway, dazed and unprepared. The ground beneath him shook with noise and light. Then came the metal beast, racing toward him with a blinding glare and a thunderous roar. Instinct moved faster than thought. And he slammed the car with his fist.
The car crumpled like paper. Both of its front tires burst out, the bonnet caved in, and the machine screeched to a halt. Inside, the driver had screamed, but thankfully, he escaped with only minor injuries.
Leo could still recall the horror in the man's eyes. To Earthlings, cars were normal. To him, back then, it had been a charging beast.
The smell of fried dough and scallions pulled him out of his thoughts. At the corner of the street, a small food cart stood under a flickering streetlamp. An old man in a faded apron worked behind the sizzling griddle, his hands moving with practiced ease. His hair was gray, his back slightly bent, yet his eyes carried the warmth of a lantern on a cold night.
For the past six months, Leo had been his last customer every evening. The old man always waited for him.
Leo never felt hunger or thirst. His body was beyond such mortal needs. Yet, he came here every night.
As Leo approached, the man looked up and smiled, his weathered face creasing with kindness.
"Here you are, young one. Just in time. What took you so long?"
"I got delayed by some college work, Uncle Zhao," Leo greeted him and then placed his order. "One jianbing, please."
The old man chuckled as he spread batter across the hot griddle. "You never change your order. A boy your age should eat more variety. How will you grow tall if you don't?"
Leo allowed himself a faint smile. "Your love is enough to make me grow."
The griddle hissed as the egg cracked and spread. The old man's hands moved steadily, adding scallions, sauce, and crisp fried dough. Soon, he wrapped the jianbing neatly and handed it over. "Here. Served with love."
Leo reached into his pocket and handed over a folded bill. "Thank you, Uncle Zhao."
The old man took one look at the money and froze. His brows knitted. "One thousand yuan? Are you out of your mind, boy? A jianbing is twenty yuan. Even if you came here every night for a month, it wouldn't cost this much."
Uncle Zhao tried to push the money back into Leo's hand with a firm voice. "Save it for yourself, son. Youngsters have plenty of places to spend the money. Don't waste it on an old man like me."
But Leo gently pressed the bill back toward him, his voice steady. "Uncle Zhao, it's not a waste. You've waited for me every evening when you didn't have to. Consider this my thanks… and my farewell. I'm leaving the town tonight."
The old man's eyes widened. "Leaving? Where to?"
"I don't have a destination in mind yet," Leo said simply. "So please… don't wait for me anymore."
For a moment, silence lingered between them. Uncle Zhao's lips trembled, and his hands tightened on the bill. Finally, he sighed and accepted it, though his heart felt heavy. He patted Leo's arm. "You're a sweet boy, Leo. Quiet and polite, I'll miss seeing you here."
Leo bowed his head slightly. "And I'll remember your jianbing."
The old man chuckled, though his voice carried a trace of sadness. "Go on then. Wherever you're headed, eat and live well. That's all this old man can hope for you."
Leo took the warm jianbing in his hands. He gave Uncle Zhao one last nod, then turned and walked into the night, the smell of scallions and fried dough following him like a memory already fading.
Leo walked through the quiet streets, taking small bites of the warm jianbing in his hand. Each mouthful carried the familiar taste he had come to treasure. The crunch of fried dough, the fragrance of scallions, and the sweet and salty sauce. It was simple food, yet to him, it was something far greater. He chewed carefully, as if savoring not just the flavor but also the memory it carried.
By the time he reached his apartment building, the jianbing was gone, leaving only the faint taste on his tongue. The narrow stairwell smelled faintly of damp concrete and old paint as he climbed to the second floor.
Inside, his small rented apartment was as plain as it could be. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, and a wardrobe. Not even a television. With little to pack, he folded a few sets of clothes casually and put them into a small bag. He added a notebook, some pens, and the modest belongings he had gathered during his stay.
When he was done, he gave the room one last glance. It looked exactly as it had before he came, bare and ordinary, as if he had never been there at all. That was wonderful. He preferred not to leave traces.
He locked the door quietly and placed the key beneath the clay flowerpot by the entrance, just as he had agreed with the landlady when he first rented the place. Then he took out his phone and typed a short message.
"Aunt Liu, I'm moving out tonight. The key is under the flowerpot. Thank you for everything."
His finger hovered over the screen for a moment before he pressed the send button.
Leo had thought about visiting her in person, but he decided against it. Madam Liu was a kind woman, perhaps too kind. She often brought him extra dumplings during holidays, asked if he was eating well, and worried about him like a distant aunt. If he went to say goodbye in person, she would surely be saddened, and he didn't want to stand through that scene. Leaving quietly was easier for both of them.
With the message sent, Leo slid the phone into his pocket, adjusted the strap of his bag, and stepped away from the apartment. The night breeze was cool against his face. Leo didn't know where the road would take him, but he knew that his quiet life here had ended.