Lin Zhixia hurried over to Miao Danyi and greeted her in a friendly manner, “Hello, I’m Lin Zhixia, I’m Wen Qi’s classmate.”

Miao Danyi took Lin Zhixia’s hand and wrote “Miao Danyi” on her palm as a way of introducing herself.

Miao Danyi added, “I know you. You’re a young genius girl. I’ve seen many genius boys…”

Lin Zhixia smiled gently.

Wen Qi had his back to the two girls. He didn’t even greet Lin Zhixia. He had known her for less than half a month, and they had exchanged fewer than twenty sentences. Their WeChat conversation history wouldn’t even fill a single phone screen.

The night Wen Qi sent the wrong email, Lin Zhixia had sent him a message: “Do you want to talk with the senior student?”

This message was, in essence, demanding his life.

So, he didn’t reply.

From Monday to Friday this week, he had taken leave from the lab. Lin Zhixia asked him, “Are you feeling alright?”

He answered irrelevantly, “I’m reading books at home.”

Lin Zhixia responded with a thumbs-up emoji. Wen Qi didn’t know how to react. Thus, they both fell into an awkward silence, and neither of them spoke another word.

This afternoon, Lin Zhixia, Jiang Yubai, and Miao Danyi had shown up at Wen Qi’s home as if by prior arrangement, making Wen Qi as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. He led the three classmates into his bedroom, accepted a lunch package from Jiang Yubai, and only then remembered that he hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

Struck by intense hunger, Wen Qi sat down on a chair. The air was dead with silence. He attempted a physics joke: “Is Lagrangian mechanics and Hamiltonian mechanics better than Newtonian mechanics? No, they’re equivalent, hahahaha…”

Lin Zhixia also found it amusing and laughed heartily, “Hahahaha.”

Miao Danyi managed to force a weak smile.

Jiang Yubai, however, remained calm and quiet, as if no joke in this world could move him. He chatted casually with Wen Qi, always finding a way to engage in conversation. Wen Qi sat uncomfortably, feeling like he was on pins and needles, and had to say, “You all chat first, I’ll go make food.”

Miao Danyi quickly said, “I’ll help you.”

Lin Zhixia added, “Jiang Yubai and I will help too. I can wash and cut vegetables… Oh, and I wanted to talk to you about Aishwarya’s situation. You don’t seem to have received my email.”

“Maybe he didn’t see it,” Jiang Yubai seemed to be covering for Wen Qi, “School inboxes are filled with all sorts of emails.”

Wen Qi remained silent. He walked toward the kitchen.

*

The dormitory’s communal kitchen wasn’t very large.

With four people standing in the kitchen, the space felt somewhat crowded.

Wen Qi took out a box of vegetables and beef. Lin Zhixia efficiently washed the vegetables while Wen Qi cut them nearby. Jiang Yubai stood at a distance, wiping a dining table with a cloth, and Miao Danyi sat on a chair, replying to messages on her phone.

Miao Danyi’s boyfriend, Sun Dawei, had sent her a message: “Miao Miao, are you still out shopping with friends?”

Miao Danyi tilted her phone screen. Jiang Yubai, with his excellent eyesight, happened to glimpse her chat window. He remained silent, and Miao Danyi asked him, “What should I tell Sun Dawei?”

Jiang Yubai said softly, “You should talk to him first.”

“Talk about what?” Miao Danyi rested her chin on her hand.

Her eyes were mocking, her tone casual: “Was it you who told Sun Dawei? Getting him to find me a group of tutors? What’s that about? I’m completely confused. I stay at home studying all day, I work my butt off just to finish the assignments from my teachers. You’re something, such a handsome guy with a heart blacker than a crow’s.”

“If tutors don’t suit you,” Jiang Yubai suggested, “you can speak up about it. Keeping things bottled up inside is harmful to both you and him.”

Jiang Yubai’s emotions and temperament were as calm as a thousand-foot-deep pond, giving people a sense of reliability and trustworthiness—this special quality wasn’t common in young boys.

Moreover, Jiang Yubai was diligently wiping the table.

Jiang Yubai loved cleanliness. He didn’t miss any corner, wiping the table more attentively than a restaurant waiter.

While Miao Danyi was chatting with Jiang Yubai, Lin Zhixia was also talking with Wen Qi.

Lin Zhixia asked softly, “Wen Qi, I find it strange—why are you always unwilling to answer my questions? You rarely reply to my WeChat messages. When I talk to you, out of ten times, you respond at most once…”

Wen Qi wiped his face heavily with an oily cloth.

His face immediately became very dirty.

Lin Zhixia frowned slightly, finding it harder to understand Wen Qi’s inner world.

What was going on?

Lin Zhixia had originally thought she was close to normal people, but after entering her doctoral studies, she once again found herself confused by the behavior of ordinary people.

She temporarily set aside her doubts and spoke directly: “From my observation, our advisor is very busy and doesn’t care about that email at all. Senior Aishwarya is truly angry. You can apologize to her at the group meeting… I should take the main responsibility. If I hadn’t asked you, you wouldn’t have written that email.”

Wen Qi didn’t see it that way.

Initially, he was the one who mentioned to Lin Zhixia that Aishwarya had been reported. If he hadn’t said anything, Lin Zhixia wouldn’t have known. If he hadn’t sent the wrong email, Aishwarya wouldn’t have been so furious.

He was the main responsible party.

After Lin Zhixia finished washing a basin of cabbage, she continued, “Your paper contribution was deleted. I’m trying to find a way to fix this. I have a paper that’s almost finished. Would you like to collaborate with me? This one can also be published in Nature. You could be the second author.”

Wen Qi firmly refused, “No, don’t compensate me with second authorship.”

His tone was very hasty and awkward. Lin Zhixia misunderstood his meaning: “Do you have another solution? I’ll continue to follow up with Senior Aishwarya. When I was young, people often called me a freak. I can understand how uncomfortable the senior felt when she saw the words ‘evil witch’… You were just relaying what the undergraduates said, just describing an objective fact. I believe you didn’t have subjective malice. Would you be willing to talk with Senior Aishwarya with me?”

Wen Qi let out a low sigh.

Bright red blood flowed from between his fingers, staining the snow-white plastic cutting board. The green cabbage was dyed red.

Wen Qi had been absent-minded while cutting vegetables and accidentally cut his finger. He quickly turned on the tap to wash away the blood. Lin Zhixia called out, “Wen Qi’s hand was cut by the knife.”

Wen Qi inexplicably lied, “Just a small cut, it’s not bleeding anymore.”

Lin Zhixia casually said, “That’s good.”

Wen Qi turned his face away, not daring to look at her: “I have band-aids in my room.”

Lin Zhixia said seriously, “I’ll go with you to get them.”

Wen Qi waved his hand: “There’s a fish in the pot. You watch the stove in the kitchen.”

In the end, Jiang Yubai accompanied Wen Qi back to his room, leaving only Lin Zhixia and Miao Danyi in the communal kitchen.

Lin Zhixia added some seasoning to the braised fish. Miao Danyi came to her side and asked, “Do you cook often at home?”

“Yes,” Lin Zhixia slightly lowered her head, saying with a hint of pride, “I can make many dishes now.”

Lin Zhixia’s skin was extremely well-maintained, fair and translucent, seemingly without pores upon close inspection. Her features were delicate, her eyes particularly beautiful, bright and expressive, with thick curled eyelashes like black butterfly wings, and lips that were red and moist like petals of a gorgeous rose.

When she was talking to Miao Danyi, she was very close to the stove. Steam kept rising, making her face slightly pink. Her complexion, white with a hint of pink, made her cheeks even more endearing. Miao Danyi asked, “Does Jiang Yubai make you cook for him at home? How could he do that?”

“No,” Lin Zhixia objected, “Jiang Yubai and I don’t live together.”

Miao Danyi quickly explained that she lived with her boyfriend, so she had assumed too much. She introduced her background in detail, instantly bringing her closer to Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia nodded and asked, “What is Malaysia like? Can you speak Burmese?”

Miao Danyi honestly described, “My mother is Burmese. She left when I was young. I live in Malaysia. My father runs a company. I have four half-siblings. I started private school at six…”

“Four siblings?” Lin Zhixia presumed, “That must be lively.”

Miao Danyi’s lips curved into an arc.

Lin Zhixia held the spatula and flipped the braised fish again.

The smell of cooking oil drifted outward, and the kitchen window was covered in mist. Miao Danyi stirred a bowl of eggs, saying she was going to prepare a specialty dish. She hadn’t cooked for a long time. When heating the oil in the wok, splattering oil drops landed on the back of her hand.

“You got splashed,” Lin Zhixia asked anxiously, “Does it hurt?”

Miao Danyi said out of nowhere, “You’re a very special kind of smart person.”

Lin Zhixia blinked her eyes.

Miao Danyi smiled with her lips pressed together: “You and Jiang Yubai get along very well.”

Lin Zhixia returned the compliment: “You and your boyfriend must get along well, too.”

Miao Danyi pursed her lips: “He doesn’t like me, I don’t dislike him.”

“What does that mean?” Lin Zhixia asked curiously.

This complex situation reminded Lin Zhixia of Senior Tan Qianche.

Lin Zhixia acted gently, cute, and considerate. In front of her, Miao Danyi’s long-suppressed words burst out: “He has money, my father doesn’t anymore. My classmates are smart, I’m stupid. I can’t get scholarships. A year’s tuition and living expenses cost tens of thousands of pounds…”

Lin Zhixia pieced together the cause and effect: “Do you have your boyfriend pay for your tuition and living expenses?”

“Have you heard of sugar daddy websites?” Miao Danyi’s tone gradually deepened. “There’s a sentence that sums it up… Ah, I remember now, ‘seeing the essence through the phenomenon, each taking what they need.'”

This part of Miao Danyi’s conversation gave Lin Zhixia a tremendous shock, even surpassing the impact of Tan Qianche’s love affairs she had witnessed years ago. Her “Human Observation Diary” had new material.

Lin Zhixia couldn’t help asking, “What major are you studying?”

Miao Danyi lied, “Philosophy.”

Lin Zhixia held a kitchen knife and cut open a tomato: “What you just said aligns with the definition of ‘logocentrism.’ Logocentrism uses vocabulary and language as fundamental expressions, replacing external reality…”

Miao Danyi had casually mentioned “philosophy,” never expecting Lin Zhixia to start discussing technical terms with her.

The braised fish was sizzling in the pot. Miao Danyi held her breath and asked, “Are you going to scold me?”

Lin Zhixia shook her head: “I hardly ever scold people.”

Their conversation didn’t continue further.

Because Jiang Yubai and Wen Qi had returned.

Lin Zhixia had almost finished preparing lunch. She served all the dishes on the table, and even reheated the clay pot rice, putting it in a porcelain bowl for Wen Qi. The four of them sat around the table, eating together harmoniously like a gathering of classmates.

During the meal, Lin Zhixia repeatedly asked Wen Qi, “When are you free? We should go talk to the senior.”

Wen Qi covered his mouth and didn’t speak.

Jiang Yubai seemed thoughtful. After a moment, he said, “Next Friday, your advisor is treating everyone to dinner. You, Lin Zhixia, and the senior can arrive early and find a chance to talk. Even if your conversation doesn’t go smoothly, when your advisor arrives…”

Before Jiang Yubai could finish, Lin Zhixia understood his meaning. She slapped the table and said boldly, “Great strategy! Let’s do that.”

No one opposed Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia effortlessly finalized the plan.

After the meal, Jiang Yubai and Wen Qi went to wash the dishes, while Lin Zhixia and Miao Danyi sat at the table.

Miao Danyi’s dress had a thin string as a belt. She pulled out the string and tied a knot. Lin Zhixia had a sudden idea and started playing a string game with her.

While playing, out of curiosity, Lin Zhixia secretly asked, “What is a sugar daddy?”

Miao Danyi answered with a smile, “Wealthy men who date female university students from prestigious schools and pay for their tuition and living expenses.”

Lin Zhixia naively asked, “Is this common?”

“Very rare, minimal.” Miao Danyi’s fingers moved quickly, creating a butterfly knot.

Lin Zhixia’s fingertips lifted the string: “Is there a ‘sugary’ website? Wealthy women date male university students from prestigious schools.”

“Probably not,” said Miao Danyi.

Lin Zhixia seemed thoughtful.

Miao Danyi teased, “Do you want to create a sugary website?”

Lin Zhixia shook her head vigorously: “No, no, no, I’m trying to analyze the problem using ‘deconstructionism.'”

Miao Danyi made an “ah” sound, and Lin Zhixia explained more in detail: “Deconstructionism means that seemingly fixed, unchangeable structures can be reshaped. Starting from a new perspective, new meanings can be derived, dissolving centralized fixed thinking… It reminds me of the structure of blockchain, whose core theory is also ‘decentralization.'”

Miao Danyi remained silent.

Lin Zhixia talked nonstop. She went from structuralism and post-structuralism to deconstructionism, then to Karl Popper and Thomas Kuhn’s scientific philosophy theories. As she continued, her voice rose slightly, and Jiang Yubai and Wen Qi could hear her clearly, though they couldn’t understand Lin Zhixia’s philosophical terms at all.

*

That evening, on the way home, Lin Zhixia held Jiang Yubai’s hand and shared her thoughts: “I feel that the people and things I encounter are becoming increasingly complex. In elementary and middle school, everyone’s goal was just to study, living a routine life at school.”

Jiang Yubai responded, “It’s not that complicated yet. After you graduate with your doctorate and leave school, you’ll regularly have to deal with people…”

“I understand,” Lin Zhixia said, hugging his arm. “Senior Wei Ruoxing told me that university professors are very busy, having to connect with schools, companies, and various organizations. A professor’s job isn’t as easy as I imagined.”

She murmured to herself, “I should be able to adapt. I can accomplish everything I set my mind to.”

“Of course,” Jiang Yubai encouraged her, “I’ll always support you.”

And will always protect you, he thought.

Lin Zhixia, however, demonstrated her independence.

Jiang Yubai offered to accompany her to the advisor’s dinner, but she politely declined.

Lin Zhixia believed she could handle this matter properly, calm the group’s conflicts, and repair everyone’s relationships.

Her first step of the plan was successfully implemented. Senior Aishwarya agreed to her request. On the day of the dinner, Aishwarya arrived at the restaurant half an hour early and sat at the same table as Lin Zhixia and Wen Qi.

The long table was covered with a white cloth, silver cutlery and plates were neatly arranged, candles flickered with dim flames, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling glowed brilliantly. Lin Zhixia’s seat was directly under the chandelier. She took a sip of lemon water, moistened her throat, and greeted the senior cheerfully.

Tonight, Lin Zhixia had applied light makeup and wore a light black gradient starry sky long dress, along with a heart-shaped necklace that Jiang Yubai had given her—her attire was stunning. Senior Aishwarya looked at her for a few seconds, complimented her on being beautiful and charming, which made her smile even more.

However, when turning to Wen Qi, Aishwarya’s attitude became much more severe.

She asked sternly why Wen Qi had written in such detail about her being reported.

Wen Qi only said, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Wen Qi was very handsome. His face was proportionate, his nose high and straight, his eyes slightly upturned—these were excellent physical traits, but he insisted on turning his face away, only using the corners of his eyes to peek at the senior, giving the impression that he looked down on her.

The senior immediately became furious, restraining her voice as she said a long string of words.

Lin Zhixia was stunned for a moment before realizing what the senior was saying: “You heard what the undergraduates said and took their complaints as fact! Do you know the effort I put in? I made a training plan for each undergraduate! Yet they call me a witch behind my back, and you defend them.”

Lin Zhixia immediately defended him. She believed Wen Qi had no malicious intent and hoped the senior would calm down.

The senior wasn’t calm at all.

She demanded that Wen Qi formally apologize to her in front of all the group members.

Wen Qi entered a state of suspended animation. He lowered his head, and his breathing slowed.

No matter how the senior provoked him, he wouldn’t reply with a single word.

Lin Zhixia tried to stop the senior’s one-sided attack.

The senior asked her three questions: First, would you be disappointed if students don’t meet your expectations? Second, can you control yourself not to hurt anyone’s feelings? Not to damage anyone’s self-esteem? Third, you discuss problems with people of equal intelligence in the lab every day, thinking the whole world is full of smart people. After leaving this environment, can you still maintain a calm attitude toward ordinary students?

Lin Zhixia answered decisively that she wouldn’t be disappointed and could maintain a balanced mindset. Differences between people create different individuals. No one in the world could completely meet her expectations.

Aishwarya’s gaze lingered on Lin Zhixia’s face for a long time.

Aishwarya meaningfully quoted an internet saying: “Just because I am wrong doesn’t mean you are right.”

At this point, group members began to appear.

They sat around the long table, talking in low voices.

Aishwarya glanced at Wen Qi intentionally or unintentionally.

Everyone at the table seemed to be looking at him.

He rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands in front of his forehead, making people think he was religious and saying a prayer before the meal.

There was also a blond, blue-eyed, handsome German guy in their group. That handsome guy was also a devout Catholic, so he started praying with Wen Qi. A sacred and peaceful atmosphere permeated the table, but Wen Qi suddenly spoke up.

Wen Qi said in fluent English that, first, he wanted to apologize to the senior, as his email had damaged her reputation. Second, he didn’t intentionally write the email—unless he had prepared a script in advance, he couldn’t describe something through face-to-face communication.

As for why he wrote about the complaint incident in such detail…

It was because his memory was too good.

He said, “I am deeply troubled by this.”

Lin Zhixia seemed to have found a kindred spirit: “I understand you, I do. I also… There are so many things I can’t forget.”

However, Wen Qi’s explanation, made with great courage, failed to move Aishwarya, who had just shown a slight smile.

*

This dinner lasted for more than two hours.

The advisor didn’t mention academic matters at all but shared many interesting university anecdotes—at this point, Lin Zhixia realized that both the advisor and his wife had high emotional intelligence. They effortlessly created a pleasant atmosphere to allow everyone to gather happily.

Lin Zhixia felt she had learned something.

However, the conflict between Wen Qi and Senior Aishwarya remained unresolved.

The morning after the gathering, Lin Zhixia called Jiang Yubai, asking what should be done next. He suggested that Lin Zhixia shouldn’t pursue perfect social relationships. Aishwarya had demanded that Wen Qi apologize publicly, which he had done. This matter could be considered over.

Lin Zhixia responded with an “mm” into the phone.

After a few seconds, she suddenly said, “The senior is like a mirror, showing me my former self.”

Jiang Yubai’s voice was very gentle as he consoled her: “You’ve always done well.”

“No,” Lin Zhixia reflected, “When I first met you, did I hurt your feelings or damage your self-esteem? Tell me the truth.”

Jiang Yubai vaguely remembered that in fourth grade, his survival struggle was to “defeat Lin Zhixia.” He dreamed of hearing Lin Zhixia say, “Jiang Yubai, you’re so strong. I’ve lost. Please spare me.”

After so many years, he had long forgotten his initial goal.

By coincidence, he heard Lin Zhixia’s apology: “Jiang, Jiang, Jiang, Jiang Yubai, if I made you sad back then, I’m sorry, I…”

He interrupted her: “Don’t say sorry.”

He said gently, “I only feel fortunate to have known you since childhood.”

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, and Lin Zhixia said with a nasal voice: “You’re so good.”

Before Jiang Yubai could respond, Lin Zhixia honestly said, “I just called my brother too. I asked him if I had ever hurt him. He said I only call him once a month, so he had already deleted me from his memory…”

Jiang Yubai gave a cold laugh: “It’s fine. Call him next month and let him guess who you are.”

This time, Lin Zhixia didn’t take Jiang Yubai’s advice.

She wrote on the calendar on her desk: “Call brother more often, upgrade from once a month to once every two weeks.”

*

By the end of October 2012, Lin Zhixia’s life had settled into a routine.

Within the research group, everything was normal.

Wen Qi would arrive at the lab promptly at eight in the morning and pack up to go home at five in the afternoon. Even in wind and rain, in cold weather, he had never been late or left early.

When he met Aishwarya, they would greet each other; however, besides that, there was no further communication.

To compensate Wen Qi, Lin Zhixia insisted on collaborating with him on a paper. She assigned half of the experimental work to Wen Qi, and he completed it exceptionally well. He also improved one of Lin Zhixia’s theoretical derivation steps, expressing the calculation formula using another basis.

Lin Zhixia accepted his inspiration. For a whole week, they were in the same office discussing the paper’s content.

Wen Qi discovered that Lin Zhixia could understand all his thoughts.

Even when he described things obscurely or fragmentedly, Lin Zhixia could quickly grasp his deeper meaning. He no longer avoided conversations with Lin Zhixia. Their division of labor and collaboration became increasingly smooth.

By early December, Lin Zhixia’s paper had taken shape. She submitted the paper to her advisor, who helped her revise it several times. Before Christmas arrived, Lin Zhixia submitted the paper. She told Wen Qi cheerfully, “We’ll get it published!”

Wen Qi said, “Great!”

During the Christmas holiday, the school was on break, and the entire experimental building became empty. Students from Europe and America all went home for the holidays, but Lin Zhixia still stood her ground.

Before going abroad, Teacher Gu Likai had told her to remain humble and grounded, and she would surely succeed.

Therefore, Lin Zhixia’s academic goal was no longer “completing her doctorate within two years,” but rather “doing as much work as possible in the shortest time.”

For her, the Christmas holiday was no different from a regular workday. She still went out early and returned late every day, holding her lunchbox and eating lunch in the office at noon. Jiang Yubai invited her to London for New Year’s, but she declined because she had a new research idea—she preferred to stay in the lab to solve her problems.

As the New Year approached, Jiang Yubai went to London with his friends.

At 8 p.m. on December 31, 2012, Jiang Yubai sent Lin Zhixia several photos of fireworks. He said that seeing fireworks reminded him of that night last August.

Lin Zhixia remembered that night she had confessed to him.

But now, he didn’t mention the word “confession” at all, yet it triggered her imagination.

Lin Zhixia sat on the bed in her dormitory, secretly thinking, was Jiang Yubai setting a trap for her?

She opened a paper, and her brain seemed to split into two halves.

One half was thinking: The greatest significance of quantum computers is solving quantum problems. No matter how powerful traditional computers are, they cannot break through such limits.

The other half was thinking: I haven’t seen him for such a long time. This is my tolerance limit as an ordinary human.

She picked up her phone and sent him a message: “I miss you so much.”

Jiang Yubai replied instantly: “Look downstairs.”

Lin Zhixia was surprised and threw her phone aside. She ran to the window and looked down at the ground, only to see Jiang Yubai holding a bouquet of roses, standing under a street lamp. In the biting cold wind, he stood straight. The light cast a misty haze over the roses, making them look like a scene from a dream, both real and illusory.

Lin Zhixia’s heart was racing wildly.

She opened the door and ran towards the stairs, as if she was going to elope with him. When she grabbed his hand, she found it was slightly cold. She asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Jiang Yubai reasoned, “I heard you’ve been very busy lately.”

Lin Zhixia promised earnestly, “No matter how busy I am, I always have time to see you!”

“Really?” Jiang Yubai asked lightly.

Lin Zhixia suddenly felt guilty but still insisted, “Mm-hmm, that’s right.”

Lin Zhixia led him back to her dormitory and made him a cup of hot tea. He took off his coat, wearing only a shirt, and sat quietly on the edge of the bed. The room was filled with the fragrance of roses. Lin Zhixia moved close to him and asked, “Weren’t you in London?”

“Just got back yesterday,” Jiang Yubai answered, “I brought you a New Year’s gift.”

Lin Zhixia pointed at the vase: “Isn’t your New Year’s gift that bouquet of roses?”

Jiang Yubai put down his teacup: “Not just roses.”

“What else?” Lin Zhixia looked into his eyes.

Jiang Yubai took out an exquisite wooden box from his coat pocket. He opened the box, which contained a silver ring. Lin Zhixia asked in surprise, “Are you proposing to me?”

Lin Zhixia was wearing a cotton dress, the smallest size, which fit her body very well. When she brought Jiang Yubai upstairs, she hadn’t paid attention to her outfit. Now, she suddenly dove under the covers, saying in a muffled voice, “It’s too early. Let’s not consider those issues for now.”

Jiang Yubai lifted a corner of the blanket.

Jiang Yubai got onto her bed, and she retreated into the corner. Jiang Yubai grabbed her wrist and placed the ring in her palm: “Proposing is a future matter… This is a little toy.”

“A little toy?” Lin Zhixia repeated Jiang Yubai’s words with her head under the blanket.

Jiang Yubai smiled before saying, “Look.”

He triggered a mechanism on the ring, and the embedded silver circles overlapped heavily. The ring transformed into an astronomical globe, with English words engraved on each silver ring.

Lin Zhixia extended her finger and gently poked the astronomical globe: “How amazing.”

“Do you like it?” Jiang Yubai asked her.

“I like it,” her eyes fluttered.

Jiang Yubai pressed the mechanism again, and the astronomical globe returned to its ring shape. He said, “This is an astronomical ring designed by Germans in the sixteenth century. I ordered it from a company in London. I went to London the day before yesterday to pick it up.”

Lin Zhixia played with it for a while and read the English words on the ring, which together formed a sentence: “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”

She turned the globe again and saw her name.

She put the ring away, wearing it on her left index finger.

Perhaps because the air under the blanket wasn’t circulating, her mind wasn’t very clear. She fell into Jiang Yubai’s arms. He held her tightly and whispered, “Xia Xia.”

Lin Zhixia released his clothes. She lay on the bed and said softly, “Hold me.”

Jiang Yubai turned off the light and lay beside her. The room was dark without light. Under the cover of darkness, they naturally kissed. At some point, it began to rain outside. The rain pattered, accompanied by the light sound of winter wind blowing, hitting the dormitory windowsill.

The rain grew heavier, and Jiang Yubai was still kissing her.

Lin Zhixia gently pushed his chest, feeling the heat against her palm. He returned to the cage of rationality, pausing all actions. He said, “It’s getting late. I should go home now.”

“Now?” Lin Zhixia said, “It’s still raining outside.”

Lin Zhixia turned on the light in the room.

Brightness suddenly descended.

Jiang Yubai grabbed his coat and tied it around his waist. He still sat on the bed, half-leaning against the headboard, with a kind of disheveled beauty. Lin Zhixia didn’t quite understand what was wrong with him. She asked, “Are you uncomfortable?”

Jiang Yubai was slightly awkward: “I’m very comfortable.”

“Really?” Lin Zhixia questioned repeatedly.

“Really,” Jiang Yubai slightly raised his chin.

Lin Zhixia felt his forehead: “You shouldn’t have caught a cold.”

She talked with him for a while longer, asking him what he wanted to eat or play. When Jiang Yubai heard her mention “playing games,” his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He could only say, “Let’s play chess.”

Lin Zhixia brought over the chessboard. They played several consecutive games, and Jiang Yubai was utterly defeated by Lin Zhixia, losing without a trace—he had thought she might go easy on him, but she was still the same. Good, that’s what he liked about her.

He gradually calmed down.

At midnight, the New Year’s bells rang from afar.

Jiang Yubai still hadn’t left Lin Zhixia’s room. The rain outside hadn’t stopped either. Lin Zhixia smoothed the blanket and invited, “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

He knew she didn’t mean it that way.

He inexplicably agreed, “Okay.”

That night, he didn’t sleep well.

The single bed in the student dormitory was too narrow, and he was used to a spacious, large bed. Lin Zhixia slept with her back to him, without any sense of vigilance. He kept his arm around her waist, but unfortunately, the fragrant softness was a sweet torment—the faint scent, the soft warm touch all stimulated his senses and nerves, making him both excited and alert, with not a bit of drowsiness.

He would never forget the last day of 2012.

The next morning, Jiang Yubai woke up very early.

Lin Zhixia was still in a confused state, unable to distinguish reality from dreams. Jiang Yubai said, “I’m going home first. Call me if you need anything, or come to my place to find me…”

Lin Zhixia nodded and asked, “Did you sleep well last night?”

Jiang Yubai recalled the previous night when Lin Zhixia leaned against his embrace, and he accidentally touched her chest—this was really inappropriate. He unscrewed a mineral water bottle, took a sip, and then said, “I slept quite well.”

Jiang Yubai now really wanted to go home to change clothes, take a shower, and catch up on sleep.

Lin Zhixia said goodbye to him and watched him leave.

*

After the Christmas holiday, the undergraduates faced their final exams.

Lin Zhixia found time to attend several teaching assistant training courses. During these training sessions, she also met many doctoral students and postdoctoral fellows, greatly expanding her social circle.

As the new semester was about to begin, Lin Zhixia received one piece of bad news and two pieces of good news.

The good news was that her paper with Wen Qi had been successfully published. She had also received her list of students.

The bad news was that the paper she had co-authored with the Indian senior had been rejected by the editor. The reason for the rejection was simple: the core view of the senior’s paper had already been published by another research group—this was quite common in academic circles.

For several consecutive days, the senior’s mood was somewhat low.

This was probably the legendary “butterfly effect.”

If the senior hadn’t deleted Wen Qi’s experimental work, she wouldn’t have needed to spend time designing another method. She would have submitted the paper earlier than the other research group.

Lin Zhixia felt very sympathetic toward the senior, but there was nothing she could do. Rules were rules, and they could only follow them.

At the same time, Lin Zhixia officially started her job. She was a teaching assistant for the “Quantum Computing” course this semester—she had five colleagues. The six teaching assistants were to jointly tutor dozens of students, teaching them in groups each week.

A rather awkward point was that Lin Zhixia was younger than all her students. Her students were all young people of nineteen or twenty years old.