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Turning 22 was almost bittersweet for Ji Lin. It was his first real celebration, a stark contrast to even the poorest families who somehow managed to acknowledge their children’s birthdays each year.

Lin Xian joined the applause, observing Ji Lin’s mix of slight embarrassment and genuine happiness. It was clear he was both shy and delighted by the attention.

“Ji Lin, come on, make a wish and blow out the candles! You have to wish for something before you blow them out!” Chu An Qing, buoyed by high spirits alongside a few other girls, encouraged him to make his wish.

Ji Lin paused, unused to this kind of attention. After a moment, he looked at the candlelit cake and said quietly, “Honestly, I’ve never really had any wishes. Apart from not having parents, my life’s been pretty good. I’ve had everything I wanted materially.”

“Ji Lin… you shouldn’t say your wish out loud,” Chu An Qing gently reminded him. “It won’t come true if you do.”

But Lin Xian raised his hand, interrupting her. “Let him say it. It seems like he wants to share.”

Ji Lin had always come across as reserved and reluctant to socialize, often appearing cold and solitary. Over time, Lin Xian had come to understand that Ji Lin’s solitude was more of a shield, a way to protect himself when no other options seemed available.

A simple, childlike birthday party might seem more suitable for a teenager like 19-year-old Chu An Qing or even a young child, but for Ji Lin—a globally recognized bestselling author, Oscar-winning screenwriter, and master of mystery at 22—it felt oddly fitting.

Yet, Ji Lin looked comfortable, genuinely enjoying the moment, basking in a kind of joy he’d missed in his affluent but isolated life.

Ji Lin smiled at everyone and continued, “Growing up, I spent most of my time alone, reading books and solving math problems. Maybe it’s because both my parents were mathematicians… I had a knack for it. I never got a single problem wrong. I enjoyed solving them, and I relished the sense of achievement from getting them right. It felt like solving problems was my purpose.”

“But today, if I have to make a wish…” Ji Lin glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on Lin Xian and Chu An Qing before settling on the dwindling candles. His expression turned solemn. “I just wish I could make one mistake.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone exchanged puzzled looks, trying to grasp the meaning behind Ji Lin’s unusual wish. The tension was palpable until Gao Yang, perhaps driven by some deep-seated instinct, suddenly stood up and clapped loudly.

“Well said! Well said indeed!” Gao Yang, always quick on his feet, managed to defuse the awkward moment. “Ji Lin’s wish is profound. His life has been too perfect. In writing and screenwriting, he’s found fame and fortune without any real setbacks.”

“For most of us, failure is something we fear, but for Ji Lin, it’s an experience he’s never had. He believes a life without failure is incomplete. A life without mistakes is, in a way, meaningless.”

Gao Yang’s voice grew more passionate as he spoke. “As the famous 18th-century British writer Oliver Goldsmith once said—Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall!”

The room was astounded! Chu An Qing and the other girls were stunned, not expecting Gao Yang, who seemed so ordinary, to not only ease the awkwardness but to elevate Ji Lin’s wish with such eloquence. It was almost an art form.

Even Lin Xian, observing Gao Yang’s outburst, was left in awe. What had inspired this sudden display of literary knowledge? Regardless, Gao Yang had a knack for handling the atmosphere.

Applause broke out once more, initially meant for Ji Lin’s profound wish but quickly becoming a commendation for Gao Yang, the master of the moment.

“So, Ji Lin, your wish is to experience failure!” Chu An Qing exclaimed, clapping. “What a unique wish… That’s the difference between a genius like you and ordinary people like us. We find failure difficult and sad, but for you, it’s a valuable experience and material for your work.”

The other girls focused on Gao Yang, their eyes sparkling. “Gao Yang, you’re amazing. You’re so knowledgeable.”

“Where did you learn all this? Do you enjoy reading?” they asked, clearly impressed.

“Wow… The adult world is so complex. Only Gao Yang could understand Ji Lin’s wish,” they murmured among themselves, their admiration for Gao Yang evident after his impressive “explanation.”

“Hahaha, I was just showing off…” Gao Yang laughed, scratching his head. He pulled out his phone and showed them his social media feed. “I learned this from a psychologist’s social media. Look, Dr. Liu is the most famous psychologist in Donghai City. She posted this today, quoting the British writer.”

“I like to read her posts and learn some psychology. It’s quite useful—” Gao Yang then patted Lin Xian’s shoulder. “Lin Xian used to have these weird dreams and was really troubled. I took him to see Dr. Liu.”

“Dr. Liu diagnosed him quickly, and with just a few words, she solved Lin Xian’s problem! Isn’t that right, Lin Xian? Dr. Liu is really good!”

“Stop talking nonsense.” Lin Xian kicked Gao Yang under the table, signaling him to keep quiet.

Across the table, Ji Lin remained silent, his gaze fixed on Lin Xian. “Lin Xian.” It was the first time Lin Xian saw Ji Lin’s eyes fully open, their gaze sharp and intense. “Have you… seen a psychologist?”