News of Huandao AILab’s establishment spread far and wide, and on this same day, Jing Qichu arrived as planned.

After class, Huan’er ran downstairs, and through the bustling crowd and glass doors of the teaching building’s first-floor hall, she saw him several meters away—wearing dark ankle-length pants and a white T-shirt, one hand holding his jacket and the other in his pocket, no different from the other boys waiting for their girlfriends after class. Jing Qichu located her after some searching, then broke into a grin.

Sometimes, there must be such a moment when you feel life has given you all its good fortune.

Generously, selflessly, with vibrant expectation.

Just like now—the person you love falls into your sight, and even though steps move slowly, even though surroundings are noisy and bustling, even though there’s still some distance, you just know you can surely walk steadily to his side.

No, Huan’er couldn’t wait, so she ran—saying “excuse me” and “sorry” along the way, she sprinted forward with the intensity of a sports meet dash, then regardless of surrounding gazes, jumped directly onto him, “You’re so amazing!”

During the just-ended break, she had watched, like everyone else, that promotional video that covered the entire internet—waking up at seven, washing her face, brushing her teeth, cycling to the company, buying coffee and bread downstairs to take up, dense code filling the computer screen. During lunch break, a voiceover asked, “Youngest in the group, less experienced than others, is the pressure great?”

“Very. So much that I often can’t sleep, sometimes even get up at midnight to work on the computer.”

“What were you thinking then?”

“Nothing much, just trying my best to do the work at hand well.”

“Why did you choose this field?”

The protagonist smiled at the camera and asked in return, “Have you ever wanted to do something for the people around you?”

Furrowed brows in discussion meetings, typing then deleting and rewriting lines of code, seriously conversing with colleagues who came by. Cycling back to his rental apartment as lights came on, takeout, shower, sitting back at the computer with wet hair, supporting his chin in thought for a while, the protagonist suddenly covered the camera, “Stop filming, I need to message my girlfriend.”

The screen darkened, then displayed a line of text—To every passionate you.

Jing Qichu’s day was condensed into a two-and-a-half-minute video.

There wasn’t anything special about it, just like any young person working hard at their post in this vast city, passing through ordinary, busy, uneventful days from sunrise to sunset.

Jing Qichu hugged her and laughed, “Get down first.”

“No.” Huan’er hung onto him, holding even tighter.

“I’ll be staying for a few days, we can’t just eat or drink and become specimens, can we?”

Hearing this, Huan’er said “That’s unnecessary” and nimbly jumped down, landing steadily.

Only then did Jing Qichu squint his eyes to examine her, “What’s going on?”

Classmates coming out of the teaching building greeted them, “Huan’er finally got to see the real person?” They smiled at Jing Qichu, “We all saw your company’s promotional video, it was well done.”

Another person added, “And openly showing off your relationship, you’re something.”

Jing Qichu quietly took Huan’er’s hand, responding somewhat embarrassedly, “I didn’t know they would include that in the edit.”

Huan’er nestled against his shoulder like a little bird.

“Let’s go, let’s go.” The classmates made exaggerated expressions of disdain, “How can you two keep torturing us like this, from online to offline.”

They all knew the difficulties of long-distance relationships; not disturbing them was the best way to show their blessings.

When the surroundings quieted down, Huan’er asked, “How did that last line pass review?”

Jing Qichu shook his head, “I only saw the final cut when it was released today. They filmed for almost a day, and I was so annoyed by the end that I said I needed to message you. I guess Sir Jiang and Gong Bo must have seen it beforehand, and if they thought it was fine, then it was fine.”

Huan’er giggled, “Maybe it makes the employees seem more real. It’s good, showing you’re taken saves others from pining after you.”

Jing Qichu pinched her face with one hand, “Oh, so you’re only this forward now that I’m famous.”

Huan’er nodded repeatedly like a chick pecking at rice, “I’m afraid of losing you!”

Jing Qichu froze for a moment, then turned his head and quickly kissed her puffy lips.

“Foul play!” Huan’er glared at him.

Someone looked their way, and she shyly hid behind him, muttering softly, “What are you doing when we might run into my classmates?”

Always bold at home and fearless among familiar faces since childhood, she hadn’t improved much growing up—still obedient and timid around strangers and in unfamiliar environments.

Jing Qichu naturally understood this trait of hers, secretly smiling as he took her hand again, “Let’s go eat.”

Just now, he suddenly became certain of something.

This thing was very important, seeming to have been decided long ago yet still hanging in suspense.

Death of loved ones, shattered dreams, changing direction, and chasing forward—at every crucial point in Jing Qichu’s life, even those dark and hopeless moments, Chen Huan’er had stayed by his side as a companion. Starting as friends, Qichu occasionally wondered if, in Huan’er’s heart, he was still that friend—someone to encourage each other and support each other along the way.

This thought left him confused and at a loss, making him nervous and timid.

He loved her, as a grown man loves a woman, having strong physical urges when kissing, thinking about saving his salary to buy a house when working overtime, secretly yearning for such a life forever when hearing children’s laughter passing by kindergartens—he was certain this was how he loved Huan’er.

Qiu Yang often teased him, saying he had a face that young girls adored and a heart that mothers-in-law would approve of.

Yes, those thoughts might not be romantic enough, but they were solid and profound.

Huan’er said I’m afraid of losing you.

Her expression, tone, body language, everything everything was conveying one signal—you are to me as I am to you.

No one knew how happy Jing Qichu was right now.

They went to the hotpot restaurant beside the school, queued for a long time before getting in, and during the meal met a group of senior students from the Computer Science department. Everyone chatted, drank, and caught up, the meal lasting two hours. After leaving the restaurant, they walked around the school to digest, and after Jing Qichu’s third reminder that “we should head back or the dormitory will close,” Huan’er asked, “Where are you staying?”

He casually pointed to a nearby hotel, “I dropped off my luggage there in the afternoon, don’t worry.”

Huan’er started talking about other things, but after walking a bit further and seeing time was really running out, Jing Qichu put his arm around her shoulders and walked toward the Pharmacy department dormitory, “Hurry up, any later and you’ll have to stay with me.”

Huan’er stopped, holding his hands with both of hers, “Can’t I stay with you?”

Like spoiled coquetry, yet also like waiting for a request to be granted, she swayed his arm.

That way nearly shook Jing Qichu’s heart out.

Near midnight, on a quiet campus path, a couple in passionate love.

He certainly understood Huan’er’s meaning.

“It’s possible…” Jing Qichu’s tongue-tied, “But… but I… I’m not prepared.”

“Did you book a twin room? Can’t it be changed?”

Has this girl become silly from studying?

Jing Qichu tapped her forehead with some amusement, “Safety measures.”

Huan’er was unconcerned, “There’s a 24-hour convenience store nearby.”

Young Mr. Jing finally caught on—he was the silly one, while she had deliberately waited until now with thorough and careful planning.

“Oh, unless by preparation you meant technique rather than supplies? If you haven’t…” Huan’er suddenly blushed and lowered her head, “We could watch videos… study the theory first.”

How did it get here? She had initially guessed correctly about his so-called preparation but then went off on an entirely unrelated tangent.

Jing Qichu turned his face aside to hold back his laughter, then composed his expression and looked at her again, “You don’t need preparation for that.”

Huan’er suddenly raised her head, looking slightly surprised, “So you…”

“What are you thinking?” Jing Qichu flicked her nose, his tone somewhat helpless, “I’ve never had practical experience.”

Huan’er made an “oh” sound, then suddenly smiled, “Then shouldn’t we watch something to prepare?”

Something like male pride was suddenly stirred.

Jing Qichu leaned close to her ear, “If you insist on watching, you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

In the moonlight and streetlamps, he saw her ear turn bright red.

A delicate, obedient, bright red little ear—heaven knows what willpower he used to stop himself from biting it.

“Let’s go.” Jing Qichu collected himself and put his arm around her, walking toward the campus exit, “I booked a room with a double bed.”

Huan’er’s parents’ generation hadn’t yet developed awareness about sex education for their children, but children who grew up in the faculty housing area could be more calm and composed about these things than their peers—after all, even complications from circumcision surgery had become a topic of academic discussion at the hospital cafeteria tables. So facing the colorfully packaged products on the convenience store checkout counter shelf, the two casually picked up and put down items, researching before finally selecting an ultra-thin type. Huan’er even whispered in Jing Qichu’s ear, “Check the size, make sure it fits properly.”

“This whole row is the same size.” Jing Qichu was unconcerned, “As long as it’s not too tight, it won’t fall off.”

“There have been cases of them getting stuck inside.” Huan’er said seriously, “I heard about a case from my mom, they didn’t pay attention at first thinking it would come out naturally, but later it almost caused an infection, quite troublesome.”

Jing Qichu laughed, “Then manufacturers could develop a custom-made service, membership-based.”

The cashier was used to customers buying condoms, some hurrying away embarrassed, others making small talk to ease the awkwardness, but someone discussing business opportunities from market demand—this was truly a first.

“How much?”

“Oh, thirty-two.” The cashier hadn’t recovered from his surprise, momentarily unsure of their purpose in buying this item.

Jing Qichu paid, said thanks, and left with his arm around Huan’er.

Another couple entered the store, the girl standing at the door looking around, the boy hastily grabbing a box and placing it on the counter, staying silent throughout as if afraid of being seen, quickly paying and leaving arm in arm.

Now that’s the normal way, the cashier thought to himself, watching their retreating figures.