The attempt to recruit Li Xun had ended in failure.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to Zhu Yun. She had said it long ago — she had never seen anyone successfully persuade Li Xun of anything. If anything, it was Li Xun’s ability to persuade others that was truly formidable.

But still…

This was genuinely infuriating.

A fire was smoldering in Zhu Yun’s chest. She knew she couldn’t blame Li Xun for it — he had never been the type to hide what he was. Everyone had known exactly what kind of person he was since the very first day of school when he introduced himself.

And yet…

She didn’t know what she was fixating on, only that this resentment had nowhere to go. She buried her face in her pillow and knocked her forehead against it several times.

“Are you alright?” Fang Shumiao turned her head and looked at her with concern. “You’ve been like someone under a curse ever since you got back from the capital. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Zhu Yun climbed off the bed, changed clothes, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

Zhu Yun said listlessly: “Don’t know…”

“It’s Saturday — aren’t you going to the base? That’s unusual.”

“…”

Going to the base meant sitting there doing nothing. Gao Jianhong had gone to find old Teacher Lin, and Li Xun certainly wasn’t going to assign her any work.

Life had suddenly become deeply hollow.

Zhu Yun trudged out without enthusiasm and walked straight into someone in the doorway. She looked up — it was Ren Di.

The weather had been getting warmer by the day. Ren Di had been among the first to switch to short sleeves. Zhu Yun’s eyes went to her arm.

“You got a tattoo?”

“Yeah.” Ren Di made a point of showing it off. “Does it look good?”

A hornet.

Zhu Yun nodded. “It looks good.”

Ren Di had her guitar on her back — she had probably just come from the studio. She could tell something was off about Zhu Yun. “You look like your mind is somewhere else entirely.”

“I’m fine. What are you doing back?”

“I came to grab a few things.”

Zhu Yun nodded and was about to leave when Ren Di called after her: “Hey, wait — come have a drink with me.”

The rooftop of the library had a beautiful view.

“When you said ‘a drink’ you meant milk tea,” Zhu Yun said flatly.

“Of course.” Ren Di popped one open and handed it to Zhu Yun. “I don’t dare let you drink alcohol.”

“Hm?”

Ren Di said teasingly: “Li Xun told me you’re an absolute menace when you’re drunk.”

The moment she heard Li Xun’s name, that fire in Zhu Yun’s gut flared right back up. She huffed and puffed, blowing bubbles through her straw.

Ren Di chuckled. “What — has he finally gotten to be too much for you too?”

Zhu Yun narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re gloating?”

Ren Di laughed outright and gave Zhu Yun a hearty slap on the shoulder. Zhu Yun choked on her milk tea and coughed until she couldn’t breathe.

“Watch what you’re doing!” Zhu Yun’s face had gone red. Ren Di put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a conciliatory little shake. “Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

Zhu Yun didn’t bother being coy about it. She told Ren Di about the competition, and Ren Di listened, then nodded.

“Makes sense.”

“How does it make sense?”

“He needs to make money.”

“Entering one competition wouldn’t take that long.”

“He plans everything out,” Ren Di said, trying to comfort her. “Here’s the thing — one time I wanted him to help us put together some music production software. He dragged it out for a whole month without having time for it, and in the end we still had to pay him for it, just treat it like a business transaction.”

Zhu Yun chewed on her straw and muttered: “I’ve never met anyone who loves money as much as he does.”

Ren Di paused, then said: “I think he’s been saving up.”

“He’s still a student. Why such a rush to save up?”

“He definitely wants to start his own company one day. He doesn’t trust people easily — he’d never be comfortable accepting investment from someone else. He’d have to build up the funds himself. And besides…” At that, Ren Di went quiet for a moment before continuing: “One time he came to watch one of our band performances. He was in a bad mood that night and drank a bit too much — he mentioned offhandedly that he still had a debt to pay off.”

Zhu Yun’s grip slipped, and she nearly bit her own tongue.

“What?!”

Starting a company, that she could understand — but being in debt, what on earth was that about?

“Can you keep your voice down!” Ren Di shot her a look. “I didn’t hear it clearly either — it was just something he let slip in passing.”

Zhu Yun was genuinely shaken.

A debt.

Owed to whom?

She thought about Li Xun’s effortlessly street-savvy way of carrying himself, and her head started to throb.

“Don’t go jumping to conclusions either. It probably isn’t anything serious — he has it under control,” Ren Di reminded her. “And whatever you do, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Li Xun will have my head.”

Zhu Yun raised her hand, swearing to the sky.

“I’ll take it to my grave!”

That afternoon, Zhu Yun dutifully went to the base and sat there reading since there was nothing else to do.

The room was very quiet. Outside the window, the bamboo rustled softly in the wind.

Gao Jianhong still hadn’t come back from his discussion with old Teacher Lin. Zhu Yun settled into her seat and let her eyes drift sideways to the blond-haired oddity curled up in his chair writing code beside her.

This man is not to be trusted. Zhu Yun’s thoughts turned complicated. Li Xun was audacious by nature and utterly set in his own ways — it wasn’t inconceivable that he’d done something out of bounds at some point.

But then again… Zhu Yun reconsidered. She had been working under Li Xun long enough. Despite the arrogant front he put up, he had always been measured and reliable when it actually came to getting things done. His composure in handling problems was something she genuinely admired.

“Hey.”

Zhu Yun startled and snapped back to attention.

Li Xun tapped the desk impatiently. “What are you spacing out about again.”

Zhu Yun shook her head. Li Xun pointed at his cup. “Water.”

Zhu Yun handed it to him.

Not long after, Gao Jianhong came back too, and filled Zhu Yun in on the discussion.

“Teacher Lin gave us a few directions — analysis of threats from suspicious programs, identification of malicious operation behavior, and personal firewall design for the campus network…”

Zhu Yun nudged Gao Jianhong’s arm, cutting him off, and asked Li Xun quietly: “Are we disturbing you, talking over here?”

They were all at the same table, after all. No need to interrupt His Lordship’s creative process.

His young Lordship didn’t even look up, and said magnanimously: “Do as you like.”

Zhu Yun turned back to Gao Jianhong: “Have you found the third person yet?”

Gao Jianhong: “Not yet. Do you have someone in mind?”

Zhu Yun: “I actually have someone.”

“Who?”

Zhu Yun flicked her gaze backward. Gao Jianhong turned around. “Wu Mengxing?”

The blond young lord beside them let out a scornful snort.

Zhu Yun: “…”

She did her best to ignore Li Xun’s existence and said to Gao Jianhong: “Yeah. His foundational skills are solid. And the fact that he’s managed to stay on here proves his ability to handle pressure is top-tier.”

There was a subtext to Zhu Yun’s words. Li Xun cast a languid glance at her.

Gao Jianhong: “Alright, I’ll go ask him.”

Zhu Yun pulled him back: “No rush — let’s nail down the general direction first, then bring him in.”

Gao Jianhong: “Fair enough.”

Zhu Yun and Gao Jianhong’s discussion went reasonably smoothly. They planned to put together a proposal first and test the approach. Old Teacher Lin had told them there was plenty of time, so they could take it at a steady pace and not rush.

The days that followed were relentlessly busy. The base projects had been demanding before, but the two weren’t even in the same league.

How did that famous saying go?

— You never know the value of what you have until it’s gone.

— You never know how incredibly useful Li Xun was until he was no longer yours to use.

“Haah…”

Zhu Yun let out a long sigh, leaning against the railing of the dormitory building’s small balcony, smoking and gazing out at the scenery.

Her mother called.

“Zhu Yun, how have you been lately?”

“Pretty good.”

“Guess who got in touch with me today.”

“Who?”

“Fang Zhijing! Do you still remember him? He said he ran into you not long ago, and that the two of you are going to enter some kind of computer security competition together. My, it’s been so long since he graduated — he’s still as polite as ever.”

“…”

He really never misses a chance to get on your good side.

“I asked your older brother about it, and he said competing in these kinds of events during university is very helpful for going abroad. You should put in the effort. Fang Zhijing even told me he was going to beat you — that cocky thing.”

Zhu Yun rested her chin in her palm, saying lazily: “He’d need to have the ability to do that first.”

“Oh, listen to you — you learn a tiny bit and already you’re showing off.” Her mother seemed to be in good spirits. They exchanged a few more words, her mother reminded her to take care of herself, and then the call ended.

Zhu Yun put her phone away and turned around, looking out at the scattered lights below.

“You’d have to actually be capable of it first…”

She exhaled a stream of smoke, watched it dissolve into the air, and stretched lazily, speaking to the night sky: “Right, Xiaoyan?”

She stubbed out the cigarette and was about to go inside when something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She went back to the railing, leaned forward, and looked down toward a small path that led out toward the edge of the campus.

That unmistakable golden mane of hair — who else could it be but Li Xun?

How remarkable. He hadn’t stayed holed up in the base until curfew for once — he’d actually come out partway through the evening.

Li Xun was at the treeline at the entrance to the path below, with a woman. Unclear what was going on between them.

Another new woman?

“Tch…”

Zhu Yun rolled her eyes magnificently in the dark, turned around, and headed calmly back inside.

From the small balcony to Zhu Yun’s dormitory room was roughly fifteen meters. She walked the first five. She ran the last ten.

She shoved open the dorm room door and went straight for Fang Shumiao’s shoulders.

“Do you have binoculars?”

Fang Shumiao was baffled. “What? Binoculars? What do you need those for?”

“…Stargazing.”

“You’re unhinged.” Fang Shumiao patted her. “Go take a shower and calm yourself down.”

Zhu Yun sighed. She’d known regular people didn’t keep that kind of equipment on hand.

She went back to her seat and sat down — but before she’d even properly settled, she suddenly remembered something and dashed back out again.

“Zhu Yun, what on earth has gotten into you lately!” Fang Shumiao called after her.

She didn’t know either. Back on the small balcony, Li Xun was still in the same spot, unmoved. Zhu Yun pulled out her phone, opened the camera, and zoomed in to the maximum setting.

Still a little blurry, but far better than the naked eye.

It really was a woman.

But this was just a bit…

Zhu Yun had crossed paths with quite a few of Li Xun’s various girlfriends over time. Taking Liu Sisi and Zhu Juliet as examples, every last one of them had been a dazzling, luminous beauty. But this one, seen through her phone camera — even with her features too blurry to make out, her clothing was visible enough to get a general sense. This woman’s style could be summed up in one word: frumpy. Cosmically, supremely, unbelievably frumpy. And her posture was a complete disaster — hunched, slouched, not a trace of bearing or elegance.

His taste had changed awfully fast.

In the frame, Li Xun had both hands planted on his hips, face turned to one side.

Zhu Yun knew that posture well. It meant he had run entirely out of patience. When he stood like that, it generally meant he was ready to send someone away.

And yet, despite how impatient he clearly was, he hadn’t simply turned and walked off.

The woman kept talking about something. Li Xun gave no response whatsoever. Just as Zhu Yun was starting to find it strange, Li Xun finally turned and moved to leave — the woman reached out to stop him and he brushed her arm aside.

His gesture wasn’t exactly gentle. The woman didn’t dare go after him.

Zhu Yun stood on the small balcony until her phone died, and still hadn’t figured out what any of it meant.

The woman left too.

Zhu Yun pressed her lips together.

What on earth was that all about.