Chen Luzhou leaned against the railing, one hand in his pocket, a gray towel draped around his neck. His hair, long since wind-dried, was tousled by the bone-chilling north wind that howled in the deep night. He wore only a black crew-neck sweatshirt, no coat, and in the cold white wind, his pale skin made him seem utterly devoid of warmth in the frigid night air. He was even whiter than the fluffy snow.
Li Ke felt cold just looking at him and was about to suggest he return to the dormitory and put on a coat.
Just then, Chen Luzhou spoke softly and tenderly to someone on the other end of the line. He casually glanced up at the two of them, then straightened up, still holding the phone, and silently slid the balcony door closed.
The three of them were in the dormitory of the Computing Department. This fellow happened to have a two-person room, and since his roommate also stayed up late, they borrowed his room to avoid disturbing others.
Li Ke rolled his eyes, his expression one of resigned familiarity. Fearing that the guy beside him might not be able to handle such an intense display of affection, he advised, “Don’t worry, apart from being overly doting on his girlfriend, he doesn’t have any other issues.”
The guy didn’t seem to mind at all. Looking at Chen Luzhou’s cold figure leaning against the railing, he said, “It’s quite admirable. He’s a model among men. I should learn from him. It gives a sense of security.”
Li Ke chuckled, “Learn what? Single dogs should just focus on writing code.”
The guy retorted, “Who says I’m a single dog?”
Li Ke’s eyes widened instantly, and he dropped his pen. “You’re not single?”
The guy, for some reason, had initially felt a bit embarrassed about dating so early, but now he felt oddly proud to be in the same category as Chen Luzhou. He answered truthfully, “No, I’m not. I have a girlfriend back home. We’ve been together since high school graduation. She’s studying at Qing University in your city.”
Li Ke stared at him, dumbfounded.
“You never asked,” the guy shrugged.
Li Ke immediately cursed, “Damn!” He picked up his pen only to throw it down again forcefully.
On the balcony, Chen Luzhou heard her voice, muffled and nestled in blankets, unusually languid and slightly reproachful as if she had just woken up. His heart softened, and fearing she might not be able to speak freely, he asked quietly, “Should we hang up? Switch to WeChat? I’ll keep you company for a while.”
Xu Zhi was reluctant to end the call. Her voice was drowsy and thick, “I want to hear your voice. Every time I hear your voice on the phone, it feels different somehow.”
“How is it different?” he asked.
“It’s more… sensual on the phone.”
She couldn’t quite describe the feeling, but it was very magnetic, especially when he had been up late and his voice was slightly hoarse. It was like the steady male voice on a midnight radio show, giving a sense of security.
He chuckled, “… Should we switch to an online relationship then?”
Xu Zhi laughed too, a soft chuckle through the phone. She rubbed her eyes and said, “No way. My mom just said we should break up.”
Chen Luzhou: “Really?”
“Mm,” Xu Zhi said, “I was thinking about burning a photo of you for her, but after searching through my phone for half the day, I realized I don’t have a single photo of you.”
“I’ll take one for you tomorrow,” he laughed out loud, his voice decisive. “Or you could give me a photo of your mom, and I’ll try to dream about her in the next few nights.”
“Chen Luzhou, you pervert! Who dreams about someone else’s mother?”
He was stunned for a moment, then leaned against the railing, laughing with feigned grievance. His eyes darted away helplessly, feeling utterly wronged. “How is that perverted? What are you thinking? Burning photos is more perverted, you know.”
They couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The crescent moon hung like a hook, and the pure love in the young man’s heart was whiter than snow and thicker than nectar.
They fell silent for a while. Neither spoke as the wind on the balcony grew stronger. Chen Luzhou took his other hand out of his pocket and covered the mouthpiece, not wanting her to hear the wind. His clear, distinct knuckles had turned red from the cold.
He continued to keep her company quietly.
“Chen Luzhou,” she called out.
“Hm?”
“I miss her a lot,” Xu Zhi said. “There are many misunderstandings between us that we never cleared up. My dad said that my mom left a letter for me before she died, but my grandmother accidentally burned it along with my mom’s dirty clothes. Many times, we could have had a proper conversation, but my dad says our personalities are too similar. We can’t talk seriously for more than three sentences without starting to argue, and then we end up attacking each other. I still remember when I was in elementary school, our teacher gave us homework to wash our mothers’ feet at home. That’s when I discovered that my mom’s heels were full of calluses. I was too young to understand then and said she didn’t know how to take care of herself, and that other mothers had pretty nail polish on their toes. Then my mom said, ‘When you’ve walked in my shoes and traveled my path, you can say that to me again.'”
“Your mom loved you very much. A mother who doesn’t love you would say, ‘Then get out of my house,'” he said.
Xu Zhi: “Has your mom ever snapped at you like that?”
Chen Luzhou lowered his head and smiled helplessly, “Occasionally. I don’t remember it anymore. But it’s a good thing to want to cry. Sometimes you need to let your emotions out. You can’t keep holding them in like this.”
Xu Zhi: “Then help me.”
Chen Luzhou hummed softly, “Alright. Do you sleep first? I’ll think of something. If all else fails, I might have to beat you up.”
There was silence on the other end for a while.
Thinking he might have scared her, he added, “Don’t worry, Brother Chen Luzhou doesn’t believe in domestic violence.”
He expected to be teased, but instead heard a muffled voice say, “I want a hug.”
Tonight, Xu Zhi was unusually clingy. Perhaps she was truly frightened, and her intermittent clinginess made Chen Luzhou’s heart soften repeatedly. It felt like there was a swollen balloon in his chest, soft and expanding, making him feel as if he were walking on clouds.
His heart was itching too, and he couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair. Being in love was quite tormenting; he missed her after just a moment apart.
Chen Luzhou comforted her softly again, “I’ll wait until you’re asleep before hanging up, okay?”
Xu Zhi was still reluctant to end the call, but finally suppressed her longing, “I’m going to sleep now. You can hang up. I just saw Li Ke’s Moments; you guys probably have to pull an all-nighter tonight.”
The wind and snow howled outside, and Chen Luzhou’s fingers were already numb from the cold. He glanced back into the room where the other two were still writing furiously, muttering something – probably arguing again. He pushed down the slight feeling of guilt, thinking that in the future when Li Ke starts dating, he’d help him write his graduation thesis if needed.
“I’ll keep you company a bit longer. It’s rare for you to be so clingy tonight.”
He ended up comforting her for another half hour, chatting softly and briefly before finally entering the room.
The draft paper was filled with scribbles and mathematical formulas.
Chen Luzhou finished the remaining steps. Li Ke was already so drowsy his eyes were unfocused, and he fell asleep at the table at 3 AM. The guy from the Computer Science Department was called Wang Yue. A night owl, his eyes were still clear. He continued to discuss a few issues about constant optimization with Chen Luzhou. They didn’t wake Li Ke, just carried on their discussion. Wang Yue had a decent temperament and didn’t talk much, but he sometimes liked to get caught up in details. As it happened, Li Ke also liked to nitpick, so when the two were together, they were like a needle against an awl. Chen Luzhou’s personality was adaptable, so he got along harmoniously with everyone.
Chen Luzhou had just come in from outside, covered in frost. His breath came out in white puffs, and his hands were red from the cold. Wang Yue, being quite attentive, passed him the hand warmer he was holding.
Chen Luzhou took it, saying thanks.
“You’re a nice guy. I wouldn’t give it to Li Ke,” Wang Yue said.
Chen Luzhou smiled, glancing at Li Ke who was sleeping soundly. He took the half-finished draft paper in front of Li Ke and filled in the remaining steps. “He’s a good guy too, just likes to argue sometimes. If you don’t engage him, it’s fine. He used to always be first in our school, but when he came here and found everyone was about the same level, he desperately wanted to prove himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dragged me to participate in the American Mathematical Modeling Contest in our freshman year.”
Indeed, freshmen usually focus on preparing for the national competition in September of the following year. Some schools even require students to have participated in the national competition before allowing them to join the American contest. Their school didn’t have this requirement, and quite a few people were preparing. When Li Ke saw others gearing up, that competitive spirit of his was stirred, and naturally, he couldn’t sit still.
Chen Luzhou knew all this, but he usually understood without saying anything. In fact, given his current situation, he probably wouldn’t participate in the competition, as he had to apply for a major change next semester and had too many things to busy himself with.
Wang Yue’s initial impression of him was because he was the campus heartthrob, much discussed by others at the school. When Li Ke pulled him into the group, he was reluctant at first, thinking he wouldn’t have much in common with a handsome guy. Later, he found out that Chen Luzhou was much easier to talk to than Li Ke.
Wang Yue asked, “Didn’t Li Ke say you were first in your school? Who’s first between you two?”
“You can think of it as us mutually praising each other. Sometimes he’s first, sometimes I am,” Chen Luzhou said while calculating the cost of forest loss, occasionally glancing at the phone on the table.
Wang Yue felt that Chen Luzhou had a kind of confidence that was hard to describe. His personality was quite attractive. No wonder Li Ke always said that Chen Luzhou was a friend you’d never regret making for life.
Noticing his distracted gaze, Wang Yue asked, “Worried about your girlfriend?”
Chen Luzhou didn’t look up, his pen moving swiftly across the paper. He hummed in agreement, “A bit. Don’t know if she’s fallen asleep yet.”
“Shall we call it a day then? We still need to consider the initial fire intensity problem. Right now, we’re calculating based on a relatively idealized forest environment and fire intensity. This kind of modeling doesn’t have much significance, after all, the circumstances of real forest fires are incredibly varied. For example, the forest protection animals we mentioned earlier are also an issue.”
Chen Luzhou finished calculating the last two cost items, put down his pen, and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. Finally, showing signs of exhaustion, he swallowed, then lazily rocked back on his chair. He returned the hand warmer to Wang Yue and started packing up while saying, “That’s why we need to calculate both the forest loss cost and the rescue cost. The main purpose of the research is to provide comparative data. After all, practice is the sole criterion for testing truth. Give me the materials. I don’t have class tomorrow morning, so I’ll go to the library and draft the paper structure first.”
It was only then that Wang Yue felt he had probably joined the right group. Following Chen Luzhou could save a lot of trouble. “Oh, by the way, there’s something I need to tell you. For the American Mathematical Modeling Contest, we need a faculty advisor. After all, it’s our first time participating in the competition, and we’re not clear about many procedures. I asked some other groups, and most of them are affiliated with those few professors and lecturers.”
“Which ones?” Chen Luzhou asked.
“There are only a few famous ones who lead competitions. Popular professors already have many teams under them. One professor’s name is already attached to over forty groups, and the least has more than twenty groups. Those groups are all complaining because the professors obviously can’t provide guidance to everyone. Sometimes they send an email and don’t get a reply for a week. Most of the time, it’s just having a name attached. Because when students win awards, they also get prize money, so they cast a wide net. If we approach them, they’ll take us on.”
Usually, it’s the professors who choose students. Some professors, seeing students with award potential, will directly snatch them up in advance, generally students they’ve taught before. As freshmen, they were relatively like blind cats catching dead mice.
Chen Luzhou put his chair down flat and leaned back, then closed his computer, remaining silent.
Wang Yue said, “Li Ke and I discussed it, and since we’ve decided to participate in the competition, we’re aiming to win an award.”
Hearing this, it seemed they already had someone in mind. Chen Luzhou asked, “Who do you want to approach?”
“A lecturer from the Physics Department. He’s very responsible towards students. We weren’t sure if you’d prefer to be under a professor’s name. Getting close to a professor could increase chances for postgraduate recommendations in the future, so we haven’t approached him yet.”
“Alright, you decide,” Chen Luzhou said.
Compared to mathematical modeling, Chen Luzhou found the task of making his girlfriend cry more troublesome.
For this, he even consulted Zhu Yangqi, who had less experience in relationships but was rich in experience in making girls cry.
Zhu Yangqi immediately responded indignantly, “You scumbag! Have you changed your heart so quickly?”
Chen Luzhou explained for a long time, but Zhu Yangqi remained unmoved. “Scumbag!”
“You dog!”
“You pig’s trotter!”
“Scumbag! Scumbag! Pah!”
Chen Luzhou: “…”
In the end, Chen Luzhou decided to take her to watch a movie. He booked a private room and chose the tear-jerker “Hachiko: A Dog’s Story.”
But Xu Zhi was made of iron. After watching, she glanced at him silently, “Is it over?”
They were sitting on the sofa in the private movie room. The dim light from the screen cast a soft glow on his face, seeming to outline his hardest features – the straight nose, and the deeply set eyes.
Chen Luzhou didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed straight ahead at the screen. His clean, sharp jawline looked coldly indifferent, more merciless than a butcher in a slaughterhouse, with a kind of ruthless efficiency.
His cheek muscles twitched slightly, showing that his entire body was tense. His hand aimlessly pinched the fabric of his sweatpants, gripping and releasing.
His brows furrowed slightly, stubbornly etched with the words – “I’m not crying” “Don’t look at me” “I’ll never cry” and “I’m heartless.”
Until the final scene appeared again, with heavy snow falling, the dog waiting lonely and persistently at the snow-covered station, showing no intention of leaving, year after year.
Especially that line: “Grandpa didn’t find Hachi, Hachi found you.”
Chen Luzhou finally couldn’t hold back. He took two deep breaths but couldn’t suppress the sourness in his chest. He could only tilt his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he tried to swallow his vulnerability, instantly evoking sympathy.
Finally, tears flowed helplessly down his cheeks. He unconsciously wiped them away, only for more to surge forth. The more he wiped, the more they came.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn.
Xu Zhi silently pulled out the last tissue from her bag and handed it to him. As she helped him wipe his tears, she comforted him in a soft, sympathetic voice:
“Don’t cry anymore, Chen Jiaojiao. You’ve used up all my tissues.”