Timothy Holt was someone my family sponsored.

He was extraordinarily gifted in mathematics, winning an international gold medal at just 17.

Yet for the prom queen's sake, he was willing to give up his chance to further his studies abroad

I couldn't bear to watch someone with such a brilliant future ruin his own prospects, so I handed the girl a check and sent her overseas.

Later, Timothy achieved both fame and fortune. However, when my family fell into hardship, he kicked us while we were down.

An accident followed, and we both died.

Before his death, he said to me: if he could start over, he hoped I would show mercy and stop interfering in his life.

Thus, just as he wished, in this lifetime, I chose to stay out of his business.

The living room was in an uproar.

Holding Lucy Quinn's hand, Timothy spoke with firm resolve.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lane, I'm sorry to have disappointed you, but I truly love Lucy. I believe that even if I stay in the country, I can still make something of myself."

"That's right, Mr. and Mrs. Lane." Lucy looked up at him, her face full of sweetness. "I believe in Tim. I know he can do it."

When I opened my eyes, I saw my parents' angry and disappointed faces, alongside the painfully affectionate gazes exchanged by the young couple.

My father finally spoke. "Timothy, this is a turning point in your life. We hope you'll think it through carefully."

I interjected calmly, "Mom, Dad, this is Timothy's own choice. You shouldn't interfere."

My parents shot me a disapproving look.

I knew exactly what they were thinking.

Timothy was exceptionally talented in mathematics. At 17, he already won an international mathematics gold medal. His future was dazzling beyond doubt.

If he seized this momentum and went abroad to study now, he would gain far more: better training, a higher platform, wider connections, and deeper exposure in the field.

Yet he was willing to throw away all his past efforts and prospects for the fleeting happiness right in front of him. It was hard not to feel regret.

That was exactly how I thought in my previous life.

So back then, I took the initiative and sent Lucy overseas.

In return, Timothy despised me for the rest of his life.

But I never hid anything from him. The country Lucy went to was the same as the school he was admitted to. If they wanted, they could have seen each other every week.

Yet, Timothy never went to find her.

Instead, while enjoying my family's sponsorship, he mocked and belittled me at every turn.

Later, he rose to fame as a brilliant new star in the international mathematics field, gaining both reputation and fortune.

Meanwhile, my family faced a financial collapse.

At the most critical moment, Timothy exposed what I did back then: how I used money to force him apart from the woman he loved.

Overnight, I became the target of public outrage online, and my family's products were boycotted.

I went to confront Timothy, demanding to know why he did it.

He said coldly, "Didn't you do all of this yourself? Cecil Lane, this is what you deserve. You brought it upon yourself."

"Have you forgotten everything my family did for you?" I screamed at him.

He replied indifferently, "The moment you humiliated Lucy with money and forced her to go abroad, whatever bond we had was completely gone."

Fine. Very well.

After years of sponsorship, my family raised nothing but an ingrate.

Since he turned out to be a heartless ingrate, there was no reason for me to be nice.

I bought a bottle of paraquat and mixed it into the alcohol.

Under the pretense of apologizing, I knocked on Timothy's door and drank with him all night.

Halfway through, he seemed to notice something was wrong. "Why does this liquor taste strange?"

He put the glass down and examined it carefully, but it was already too late.

The poison took effect.

He started foaming at the mouth.

When he saw me showing the same symptoms, he understood everything.

He didn't struggle. Instead, he only looked at me, with a trace of pleading in his eyes.

"Cecil, if there's a next life, please don't tear us apart again."

I agreed.

And so, in this lifetime, I did not write Lucy a check.

I did not force her to choose, and I did not send her abroad.

They can play out their sweet, doting romance however they like. I won't interfere anymore.

Timothy was someone my family sponsored since childhood. He came from an extremely poor and remote mountain village.

Not long ago, he lost his mother. As for his father, the only breadwinner in the family, he fell from a high platform when Timothy was six, leaving him permanently disabled.

At home, there was also an elderly grandmother to care for.

Growing up in such circumstances, Timothy never gave in to despair. On the contrary, he was extraordinarily hardworking.

The village chief once told my parents that Timothy would get up before dawn every day and walk three kilometers of mountain paths to the town school. After classes, he would rush back up the mountain to forage for mushrooms to help support the family.

In the evening, he would return home to take care of his family members. Only deep into the night would he finally have a moment to touch his books.

He couldn't bear to waste money on lamp oil, so he studied by the faint moonlight outside the window, reading in the dark.

That was how he fought his way to first place in the entire town.

After hearing this, my parents were deeply moved and immediately decided to sponsor Timothy.

They brought him into our home and transferred both of us to the same elementary school.

That was how I first met Timothy.

He wore an ill-fitting school uniform. His whole body was dark and skinny, the hems of his pants dotted with dried mud, his fingernails packed with dirt.

Standing in our living room, he looked at me stiffly, clearly ill at ease.

"Cecil, come here," my mother said gently, waving me over. "This is your brother, Timothy. Say hello."

"Hello, Timothy," I chirped brightly.

"H-Hello," Timothy replied awkwardly.

My mother said, patting my head, "From now on, Timothy will be studying at the same school as you. You have to take good care of him, okay?"

"Got it, Mom. You can count on me," I replied solemnly.

Timothy became my deskmate. We went to and from school together every day. My mother even joked that we were inseparable twins.

One day, I skipped class to go play and completely forgot about Timothy.

Humming to myself as I reached my front gate, I habitually turned my head to look to the side, only to find no one there.

Oh no! Only then did I remember the Timothy I left behind.

I hurried back along the road to school.

In a narrow alley ahead, several of the class bullies were surrounding and beating Timothy.

"You country bumpkin! Who knows what tricks you used to seduce Princess Cecil?" one of them sneered. "I'm warning you: stay far away from Princess Cecil from now on."

Back then, I was obsessed with fairy tales and convinced the whole class to call me Princess Cecil.

Normally, hearing that nickname would have made me happy, but not now.

I rushed forward. "Hey! You bad guys! Let Timothy go right now, or I'm calling the police!"

At that age, the mere mention of the police was enough to scare anyone. Sure enough, they slunk away reluctantly.

"Timothy, are you okay?" I hurried to help him up.

When I saw the bruises covering his body, guilt overwhelmed me, and I burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, Timothy. This is all my fault. If I didn't run off without waiting for you, they wouldn't have bullied you."

"Cecil, this isn't your fault," Timothy said gently, wiping away my tears. Then his tone shifted slightly. "But you really can't skip class anymore."

"Okay, Timothy. I won't ever leave you behind again. From now on, we'll walk together."

"Alright. Together."

Under the streetlights, two small figures staggered forward, heading in the same direction.

After the entrance exams, Timothy and I entered the provincial high school as joint top scorers in the entire city.

For all three years of high school, we remained firmly in the top three of our grade.

The year we entered high school, Timothy stood against the light, eyes shining as he said to me, "Cecil, one day I'm going to become a mathematician and solve problems no one has ever cracked. I'll bring honor to our country."

The boy back then was bright-eyed and full of spirit.

"Alright. Let's work hard together," I said with a smile, bumping fists with him.

I thought we would keep walking side by side like that, chasing the same goal all the way forward.

That was until he met Lucy Quinn.

Lucy was a dance student. Unlike us quiet, introverted nerds who only knew how to grind through problem sets, she was bold, bright, and confident. Her figure could be seen everywhere on campus, and she was famously popular.

The first time I heard the name Lucy was during the provincial ballet competition.

As the school's representative, she took first place.

That day, she wore a pristine white ballet dress, and congratulatory posters were plastered all over campus.

"Let's go home, Timothy. What are you staring at?" I patted the dazed Timothy beside me and followed his gaze straight to Lucy's award notice.

"Oh? You like her? You have some good taste, it seems," I teased.

"No, I don't," he muttered, but his burning red ears betrayed him.

"Alright, alright, you don't," I replied casually, not thinking much of it.

Who didn't have a crush during adolescence? That was perfectly normal, just like how I secretly admired Justin Cooper from the humanities class next door. He was the aloof, gentle academic ace who always ranked first in liberal arts.

But this was senior year, a critical time. I knew my limits, and I believed Timothy did too.

Yet things unfolded in a way I did not expect.

Around two or three in the morning, I got up for water and noticed the light in Timothy's room was still on.

Dark circles appeared under his once fair face. Sometimes, he even fell asleep during class.

"Timothy, what's going on with you?" I asked, worried.

"It's nothing," he replied lightly. "Probably just staying up too late doing practice problems."

Back then, I foolishly believed him.

It wasn't until later that I discovered he wasn't sleeping because he was gaming all night with Lucy.

When I found out, I was disappointed. I went to argue with him.

"Timothy, have you forgotten your dream? How did you become like this?"

Embarrassment flashed across his face, his expression shifting through a storm of emotions.

But it was Lucy who snapped back at me. "Cecil, I think you should have some self-awareness. Don't interfere in another woman's boyfriend's private affairs."

I froze.

Were they already dating?

"Timothy, is that what you think too?" I refused to give up.

He fought his way out of the mountains through sheer effort. He was just one step away from returning home in glory. He wasn't like others—he had no capital to waste time. If anything, he should have been working even harder.

I did not live through his hardships, yet even I understood this. I believed Timothy understood it as well.

I looked at him expectantly, hoping he would tell me this was all just a joke.

After a long pause, Timothy finally spoke.

"Cecil, stop saying these things. I know my limits. And from now on, we won't walk together anymore."

Lucy heard that and shot me a contemptuous smile.

I lowered my head and didn't look at them again, letting them walk past me.

I knew that from that moment on, I lost a companion on the same path.

Five months before the SAT, I already finished my first round of revision and begun filling in gaps.

Timothy was strolling around campus with Lucy, admiring flowers and trees, wandering wherever they pleased.

Three months before the exam, I stayed up late drilling problems every night.

Meanwhile, Timothy stayed up all night on the phone with Lucy, pouring his heart out.