Wen Qi asked straightforwardly: “Where did you buy lunch, at a Chinese restaurant?”

Lin Zhixia’s lunch box contained white rice, crispy duck, emerald shrimp, and Wensi tofu. The duck meat had crispy skin and tender flesh, cut into thin slices, its aroma wafting outward, smelling appetizing and delightful.

By comparison, the claypot rice Wen Qi held in his hands no longer seemed appealing.

Earlier that morning, Wen Qi had visited St. John’s College and bought a portion of claypot rice from a restaurant called “Hong Kong Small Kitchen” next to the college, bringing it to the office to eat. He held the slightly hot plastic container, his eyes glancing at Lin Zhixia’s food, to which Lin Zhixia responded: “This isn’t from a restaurant, it’s homemade.”

Lin Zhixia didn’t mention Jiang Yubai’s name at all, providing only a vague explanation.

After hearing her words, Wen Qi assumed that Lin Zhixia had made all those dishes herself. He sat on another chair, lowered his head to eat, and stopped chatting with his classmates. He had an inherent loftiness that reminded Lin Zhixia of Jin Baihui, but his personality was more outgoing than Jin Baihui’s. At the very least, when the Korean senior spoke to him, he was willing to respond.

The Korean senior was named Yun Xiuen, with slightly longer hair dyed chestnut brown, a delicate and pretty appearance, and a pleasant voice.

Yun Xiuen had carefully read the papers of every student present and extensively explored the research directions of everyone in the group—truly an outstanding person.

Lin Zhixia took a few bites of food and tried speaking to her in Korean. After just a couple of sentences, Yun Xiuen showed a surprised expression.

She completely forgot about Wen Qi, turned her head to look directly at Lin Zhixia, and rapidly spoke a long string of Korean.

Lin Zhixia understood everything. She continued to respond in Korean, speaking fluently and conversing with ease, momentarily stunning the surrounding classmates.

The Indian senior remembered that Lin Zhixia had mentioned coming from a mathematics background.

The Indian senior had also graduated from a mathematics program at an American university. She repeatedly confirmed: “Did you graduate with a double major in math and Korean?”

Lin Zhixia thought for a moment and responded with a sentence in Hindi. She knew very little Hindi, just a smattering, but it was enough to shock her Indian senior. Several doctoral students from the group gathered around, and Lin Zhixia conversed with them in German, French, and Russian. Her German and French were noticeably more fluent, reaching the same level as her English.

Yun Xiuen secretly asked her in Korean if her talents were manifested in mathematics, physics, and linguistics.

Lin Zhixia pondered thoughtfully.

When she was just over two years old, she discovered she was different from others. Her talent relied on her memory, comprehension, and observation skills; beyond that, there didn’t seem to be anything special.

Lin Zhixia intentionally avoided Yun Xiuen’s question. She picked up a few pieces of duck and generously shared them with Yun Xiuen.

Yun Xiuen had brought a portion of soy sauce and chili fried rice. She scooped several spoonfuls into Lin Zhixia’s bowl. They tasted each other’s food, instantly drawing their relationship closer. Yun Xiuen directly invited Lin Zhixia to attend a dinner party next Friday evening, but Lin Zhixia politely declined—because, as per her custom, Lin Zhixia meditated on Friday evenings, organizing her research achievements from Monday to Friday.

Yun Xiuen hadn’t expected Lin Zhixia to refuse.

The conversation in the rest area was intermittent. In such a spacious and bright environment, Yun Xiuen pursed her lips, turned sideways, and instead invited Wen Qi to attend the dinner party.

Wen Qi was contemplating his experimental data results. He didn’t hear Yun Xiuen’s question and casually agreed: “Okay.”

Yun Xiuen then stated the time and location of the gathering.

Only then did Wen Qi realize what he had agreed to. But he didn’t change his mind. He put down his lunchbox, temporarily left the laboratory building, and went to the entrance to smoke a cigarette.

*

It was just after one o’clock in the afternoon, and Jiang Yubai had just finished his classes for the day. He and several classmates walked along a wide corridor, discussing the assignments given by the teacher and talking about the new supervisors this semester.

Cambridge University’s autumn term is generally called “Michaelmas term,” starting in October and ending in December. During this period, students have a relatively heavy academic workload. They are divided into different groups and meet with their group supervisors weekly. Supervisors write evaluations of the students based on their performance after each meeting.

For undergraduate students, supervisors are also witnesses to their learning journey.

Jiang Yubai couldn’t help but think again about Lin Zhixia’s supervisor application.

As far as he knew, Lin Zhixia specialized in “quantum physics.” She had contacted the coordinator of the quantum physics course.

Jiang Yubai was briefly distracted.

His classmate asked: “Hey, Jiang Yubai, is your girlfriend a doctoral student in a large research group?”

This classmate who spoke was named Sun Dawei, a northerner with an outgoing personality who was particularly loyal to friends and rarely beat around the bush when speaking.

Jiang Yubai told him the truth: “Yes, her professor is very famous.”

Sun Dawei had already heard about Lin Zhixia. He had even browsed through all the papers Lin Zhixia had published so far online. He became concerned about an issue: “Will she be a supervisor, your girlfriend?”

Jiang Yubai implied: “She probably won’t teach economics.”

Sun Dawei hypothesized: “My girlfriend will study quantum physics next semester. Will your girlfriend be my girlfriend’s supervisor?”

Jiang Yubai felt like laughing, but held back. He deliberately changed the subject, asking Sun Dawei if he had any research on quantum physics, then he brought up a business dinner next Friday. That dinner was partly organized by Jiang Yubai. He was a member of the Cambridge Finance and Business Association and knew managers from major European investment banks. He had successfully invited many important guests and hoped more classmates would attend the dinner.

Sun Dawei checked his email inbox: “I saw your email the day before yesterday. The dinner is next Friday? I’ll bring my girlfriend and introduce her to you.”

Sun Dawei’s girlfriend was someone he had just met this summer. In his eyes, his girlfriend was an angel. Although his family was wealthy and even owned a listed company, his height in shoes was just over 1.64 meters, and this was only after taking growth hormones since childhood.

Others only saw Sun Dawei’s lavish and glamorous side, not knowing how difficult and bitter life could be for a man shorter than 1.65 meters in northern China.

In middle school, when Sun Dawei stood among the boys, he was like a lost lamb that had fallen into a herd of adult alpacas.

The girl he secretly liked in middle school once told him directly that she would only ever love men taller than 1.67 meters. In their northern region, such men were abundant.

He had wandered, been melancholic, and even made a wish to heaven, willing to give up one billion yuan in assets in exchange for growing to 1.67 meters tall.

However, the kind and generous heavens protected Sun Dawei’s fortune. His family’s assets weren’t reduced at all, and his height didn’t increase at all either.

The brief adolescent period passed quickly. From the bottom of his heart, he longed for a true and sincere love, yearning to see passionate and intense feelings in a girl’s eyes, just like the famous poet Roy Croft’s poem titled “Love”: “I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you…”

The girls he had liked in the past generally treated him as just a regular friend.

Just when he was about to give up, he finally met his current girlfriend.

His girlfriend was about the same height as him, they had a good relationship, and they were already living together off-campus.

This is what’s called “heaven never seals off all paths.”

As Sun Dawei quietly pondered his life journey, Jiang Yubai lowered his head to speak with him: “Have you seen the assignment requirements for ‘Mathematical and Statistical Methods for Economists’?”

Sun Dawei responded: “We need to learn new software.”

Jiang Yubai asked him: “Do you think the mathematical content is difficult?”

“Difficult,” Sun Dawei said frankly.

The nearby grass was lush and green, with a shimmering small river. They crossed a bridge, passed a stone inscribed with the Chinese verses of Xu Zhimo’s famous poem “Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again.”

At a fork in the road, Jiang Yubai parted ways with Sun Dawei and the others. He walked straight toward the laboratory building where Lin Zhixia was. Lin Zhixia ran down to meet him and brought him back to her office.

In this office, Jiang Yubai worked on his business school assignments while Lin Zhixia derived her physics formulas. They quietly spent the afternoon together until the shadows lengthened westward, when Lin Zhixia finally asked him: “Have you encountered any difficulties in your recent studies? You mentioned that second-year courses aren’t simple.”

Jiang Yubai took out a stack of materials for the course “Mathematical and Statistical Methods for Economists” from his backpack.

“The mathematics is very difficult,” Jiang Yubai claimed.

Lin Zhixia glanced at it, half-believing, half-doubting.

Jiang Yubai then asked: “If you want to be an undergraduate supervisor, shouldn’t you first find someone to practice with?”

“I suppose so,” Lin Zhixia agreed with his reasoning.

Jiang Yubai recommended himself: “I’m an undergraduate. I’m very familiar with you.”

Lin Zhixia rested her chin on her hand, considered for a few seconds, and said: “Alright, I’ll teach you the mathematical theory in these papers. When are you free?”

From Monday to Friday, Jiang Yubai was very busy. He and Lin Zhixia arranged to meet this weekend.

On the weekend morning, the sun was bright and the weather was clear. Jiang Yubai sent Lin Zhixia a text message, addressing her as Teacher Lin, and asking what she would like for lunch. He would wait for her downstairs at her dormitory at eight o’clock this morning.

Upon receiving his message, Lin Zhixia wrote in her “Human Observation Diary”: “Today is the second weekend after my 18th birthday. Jiang Yubai wants me to go to his house to tutor him. He proactively called me Teacher Lin, and I suspect he has ulterior motives. But since he’s grown up, I find his thoughts harder to guess.”