To Mao Zimiao and the other people of Shenzhou, Wang Qi's fondness for rooftops was simply incomprehensible.
The reason for it was probably a cultural difference. Most rooftops in Shenzhou sloped at a forty-five-degree angle to the ground; by ordinary people's thinking, they were never designed for anyone to stand on. On Earth, where Wang Qi had lived in his previous life, minimalist buildings could not even be bothered to add any embellishment to their tops, so in many places, the roof of a building was actually a fine place to go.
Although in Earth's melodramatic campus romance dramas, rooftops were basically places for hookups along the path of love, even earning the nickname "the place where some senior who had one foot in many boats once fought," in reality, school rooftops were inaccessible in most countries.
Wang Qi had truly come to like such places after family issues interrupted his studies in Copenhagen and forced him to return home. Back then, he truly deserved the phrase, "His heart was higher than the heavens, but his fate thinner than paper." Though he might not even have been able to get into a top domestic laboratory, every day he dreamed of being crowned the King of Explosives. At the time, he would often carry a can of beer up to the top floor and look down over the scenery below.
In his previous life, Wang Qi had lived in the downtown area of a first-tier city, not far from the business district—a true city that never slept. It was noisy there at all hours. Yet the rooftop where Wang Qi sat was exceptionally peaceful.
Although Wang Qi did not actually like beer at all, he insisted on bringing one every time, because he felt that pulling out a Coke in a