The wooden door inside was opened first, and a middle-aged woman in her forties appeared in Chris Brooks's line of sight. As she opened the door, she scolded unceremoniously, "What are you making such a racket for? The whole building can hear you. You're a grown man now, and you still go out without your keys."

"Still the same old recipe, still the same old flavor," Chris Brooks thought to himself.

Environments have a memory function. For example, on stormy nights, the staff on duty at the Forbidden City often see palace maids walking along the lacquered red walls. It's said that during thunderstorms, the magnetic field records and stores images from the past onto the walls.

Chris Brooks had felt a bit uneasy at first, but as soon as his mom Linda Parker opened her mouth, in an instant, he was pulled back to memories from 17 years ago. Their way of interacting hadn't changed much at all.

Entering the house under his mother's watchful gaze, Chris Brooks didn't feel anything in particular. Instead, he thought the living room was too stuffy. He rummaged through the sofa for the remote control. "It's so hot and no one thinks to turn on the air conditioner. Where's Dad?"

Linda Parker, pulling a chilled watermelon out of the fridge, replied, "All you think about when you get home is turning on the air conditioner. Your dad isn't off work yet."

Seeing the cold watermelon, Chris Brooks grinned. "Only my real mom loves me like this."

"All you have left is that mouth of yours."

Looking at her lively son, Linda Parker was actually quite satisfied inside, but she still put on a stern tone: "Where's your admission letter?"

Chris Brooks casually tossed the envelope containing the admission letter onto the dining table. "Here it is."

"Are you looking for trouble!"

Linda Parker quickly picked it up, making sure there was no watermelon juice on the envelope, then used a spatula to give Chris Brooks a not-too-hard smack. "You little rascal, do you even want to go to college?"

Linda Parker carefully took out the admission letter. Seeing the bright red cover with the words, "Hereby admit student Chris Brooks to study in the 'Public Administration' major. Please report to the school with this letter on September 1, 2002," she couldn't help but beam with joy.

Although domestic universities had started expanding enrollment in 1999, the impact wasn't that far-reaching yet. The value and prestige of being a college student could still last for a while.

Especially since none of Linda Parker's nephews and nieces from her side of the family had gotten into college. Her own son, though not the most obedient, had at least made her proud academically.

Even if it was just a second-tier university, he could always go for a master's degree later.

As Linda Parker was thinking this, Chris Brooks wolfed down half a watermelon, patted his belly, and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Only then did Linda Parker remember, "Let the water heat for 10 minutes first, or you'll catch a cold."

They still had a solar water heater at home, so you had to heat the water for a while before showering. Chris Brooks didn't listen, grabbed his clothes, and went in. "On a hot day like this, of course a cold shower feels best."

"You brat!"

Unable to persuade him, Linda Parker could only let Chris Brooks be. She turned her attention back to the admission letter, suddenly feeling a sense of relief.

Raising a child all the way to college, whether financially or emotionally, really takes a lot.

"In another four years, Old Brooks and I can finally relax, and then help take care of the grandkids. That's all I want in this life."

This was the simple happiness that Linda Parker, a middle-aged woman from Harbor City, looked forward to.

……

Chris Brooks enjoyed a refreshing cold shower, then stared blankly at himself in the mirror—young, healthy, full of energy. Cover his eyes, and it was the face of an 18-year-old.

But when he looked into his eyes, he could always find a depth that didn't belong to someone his age.

Suddenly, Chris Brooks reached out and jabbed his finger hard at the mirror, saying, "Since I've been sent back, I have to make something of it. Sure, if I just went with the flow, I wouldn't lack for money, but where's the fun in that!"

At that moment, Chris Brooks heard the sound of the iron door and voices in the living room. He put away his serious expression, put on a loose home shirt and boxers, and swaggered out, calling, "Old Brooks is back!"

Standing in the living room was a tall, handsome middle-aged man, who looked about sixty percent like Chris Brooks.

This was Chris Brooks's dad, Mark Brooks, but the two of them couldn't be more different in personality.

Mark Brooks spoke very little. Linda Parker often said he "couldn't squeeze out a fart in half a day," while his son was lively and didn't care much for rules.

So even when his only son greeted him, Mark Brooks just replied with a faint "Mm." But noticing that Chris Brooks had just showered and still had water droplets on his back, Mark Brooks quietly went over and turned up the air conditioner temperature in the living room.

Before Chris Brooks could say anything to his old man, Linda Parker came over with Chris Brooks's change of pants, pulled out a pack of cigarettes from them, and slapped it on the table. "Well, Chris Brooks, you've secretly learned to smoke?"

These were Red Jinling cigarettes that Chris Brooks had "confiscated" from his homeroom teacher Old Clark. He'd forgotten to hide them just now, and Linda Parker had found them.

Chris Brooks's expression didn't change. "Old Clark forced them on me. He said I didn't do that well on the college entrance exam this time, so he gave me a pack of cigarettes to comfort me."

"Nonsense!"

Linda Parker didn't believe it at all. "What kind of homeroom teacher gives students cigarettes? Mark Brooks, are you going to do something about your son or not?"

Mark Brooks had no intention of getting involved in this mother-son "war." He was about to quietly slip into the bedroom, but Linda Parker wasn't about to let him off the hook.