The competition was officially over, and it had been a productive one.

A few people were in a hurry to get home and left directly; most of the group had luggage still at the school, so there was an organized return trip.

Zhu Yun was in charge of the ticket exchange at the airport — with Li Xun in the same group as a point of comparison, Old Teacher Lin had complete confidence in his class representative handling the logistics.

When collecting the boarding passes, Zhu Yun had been clever about it and arranged herself and Li Xun side by side — but fate had other ideas, and the moment they boarded, Old Teacher Lin swapped seats with her.

Zhu Yun was one hundred and eighty percent unhappy about this.

You’re already so old, why are you competing with a young girl for a seat……

At least Old Teacher Lin’s seat was just one row ahead. Once Zhu Yun had settled into the new spot, she pressed her back firmly against her seat, pricked up her ears, and eavesdropped on the conversation behind her.

After the customary opening of criticism and scolding, Old Teacher Lin moved on to the real subject.

“What are your plans going forward?”

Zhu Yun’s ears perked up.

Did Li Xun actually look like someone capable of having a normal conversation about his future plans?

Sure enough — the next second came Li Xun’s breezy reply:

“Probably going to sell potatoes.”

Old Teacher Lin erupted: “Don’t give me that nonsense!”

Zhu Yun hunched her shoulders in the row ahead, then heard Old Teacher Lin say: “I’m talking to you seriously right now — get your attitude together! Do you hear me? Open your eyes!”

Finally getting somewhere. Old Teacher Lin said to Li Xun: “Here’s the thing — do you know Peng Guorui? He’s a computer science professor who receives a special national stipend, and he’s also my teacher. He’s currently working on developing the operating system for a large-scale national computer project. Does that interest you?”

A brief silence. Li Xun said slowly: “That kind of thing would be classified, wouldn’t it.”

Old Teacher Lin laughed. “Of course it is. Didn’t expect you to know that.”

Li Xun said nothing. Old Teacher Lin went on with a note of feeling in his voice: “In all my years of teaching, I’ve come across plenty of talented students — but someone who already has this much hands-on practical experience right off the bat? You’re genuinely the first. Your family must be in this field — it’s the only way you could have been exposed from such a young age. What do your parents do?”

Li Xun: “They sell potatoes.”

Old Teacher Lin: “……”

“You incorrigible little——!” Old Teacher Lin laughed despite himself, then steered back to the matter at hand. “You got that part right — it is classified, and getting on the project itself isn’t possible. But Professor Peng is opening a seminar soon, aimed primarily at his own students, for in-depth theoretical training. It would last about a month. I’ve recommended you to him.”

Li Xun: “A month…… the new term will have started by then.”

“You don’t need to worry about school — I’ll speak with the department head. It comes down to what you want. But this is a real opportunity. It would do a great deal to consolidate your entire knowledge base, and it’s not something just anyone can access. I hope that you——”

“Fine.”

While Old Teacher Lin was still working out how to make his case, Li Xun had already nodded his agreement. And with his agreement came a rare flash of courtesy: “Thank you, Teacher.”

“……” The sudden normalcy of it caught Old Teacher Lin off guard. “Why did you agree so easily this time?”

Li Xun tilted his head slowly toward him, and gave Old Teacher Lin a smile that said: you know and I know. “That place is a bit different from this little competition, isn’t it.”

Old Teacher Lin pointed a finger at him and shook his head repeatedly. “You crafty little——. Alright, I’ll put in a good word for you. It’s not a place you can just walk into, though — there’ll likely be a small assessment, but for someone like you that shouldn’t be any obstacle……”

The conversation continued. Zhu Yun had stopped wanting to listen.

If there had been a mirror in front of her right now, she would have seen that the corners of her mouth had drooped all the way to her chin.

They had only gotten together the night before last, hadn’t they……

Had forty-eight hours even passed……

Was this any way to handle things?

Of course — regarding the course Professor Peng was offering that Old Teacher Lin had just mentioned, she was fully, enthusiastically in favor of Li Xun going. But that didn’t mean the matter had zero value as something to at least mention to her first.

Zhu Yun had no experience in relationships. She kept running through films and television dramas in her mind — in most of them, after the leads had finally confirmed their feelings for each other through all manner of trials and tribulations, there was always a light, easy stretch of scenes to ease things down gradually…… Why had that part apparently been skipped entirely in their case.

When they landed and went to collect luggage, both Zhu Yun and Li Xun had nothing to claim — they stood at the back of the group.

“I have something to take care of later. I probably won’t go back to campus,” Li Xun said.

Zhu Yun turned. “Is it what Teacher Lin mentioned? You’re going already?”

Li Xun glanced at her sideways and smiled. “You heard. I did agree to go — but this isn’t about that.”

Bags were retrieved one by one. Old Teacher Lin gathered everyone together for the airport bus. Li Xun went over to say something to Old Teacher Lin, then came back to Zhu Yun. “I’m heading off.”

Zhu Yun: “……”

Just like that?

Shouldn’t there be some kind of gesture?

Watching Li Xun stand there looking utterly unbothered, Zhu Yun felt a small frustration rise in her chest — but she didn’t want to show it too obviously, like she had no dignity about her.

Hmph. If he wants to go, let him go. What’s the big deal.

With her internal pep talk complete, Zhu Yun tilted her chin up with the air of someone granting royal dispensation.

“Off you go, then!”

Li Xun looked down at her. Then, suddenly, he smiled — and taking advantage of the fact that everyone ahead was waiting by the bus, he caught her by the arm and pulled her around into a corner out of view.

He leaned down.

Their lips met, and Zhu Yun floated.

When he pulled back, he said quietly: “I’ll be gone a full month. There’s still a lot to wrap up at the base — I need to brief everyone properly, otherwise it’ll become a mess.”

Zhu Yun said softly: “……If there are any unfinished projects, I can pick them up for you.”

Li Xun heard this, and something — whatever it was — crossed his mind. The look that spread across his face was thoroughly shameless.

“Princess, you really are versatile, aren’t you.”

He leaned close to her ear. “Clothes on or clothes off — equally useful.”

“……”

She moved to kick him. He blocked it with one palm.

Li Xun straightened up. “You don’t need to do any of that. I’ll leave you something else.”

Zhu Yun looked up. Li Xun continued: “Go back and pick my courses for me. I’m afraid I’ll forget about it by the time I’m done.”

Now that he mentioned it, Zhu Yun remembered — online course registration for the next semester was coming up very soon.

Was that really all.

“Here — your payment.” Li Xun reached casually into his pocket, pulled something out, and placed it in Zhu Yun’s hand.

A little flutter of feeling in her chest. She was already wondering when he had prepared this, and then she looked down——

It was a throat lozenge from the in-flight meal.

Zhu Yun felt a breath lodge itself somewhere in her throat, going neither up nor down. She was just about to shoot him a glare when she looked up and found he had already walked away.

That long, lean silhouette raised a hand in a casual wave without looking back.

Zhu Yun felt like she wanted to be irritated, and also somehow felt like laughing.

She tore open the lozenge and put it in her mouth.

Cool and faintly tingling, carrying a clean freshness.

Just like this summer.

*

In truth, Li Xun’s departure had saved Zhu Yun quite a bit of trouble. At the very least, she no longer had to agonize over what scheme to cook up to convince her mother she was staying on campus for the break instead of coming home.

Once Li Xun’s plans were settled, Zhu Yun saw no reason to linger either. She went back to the dormitory, packed up a few things, and set off for home that same day.

She arrived home, presented her award certificate, and her mother was a thousand times satisfied.

“You came back so late — how can a competition take that long.”

“The schedule is fixed, they can’t just change it……”

Her mother had missed her and pulled her close, asking all manner of questions. Zhu Yun naturally could not recount every “dramatic turn of events” from the competition in full — she selected the milder-tasting portions and shared those.

Her mother asked: “And Fang Zhijing?”

Zhu Yun made a sound. “His group…… ran into some trouble, it seems.”

“What kind of trouble? How did they do?”

“They didn’t win anything.”

“I knew it!” Her mother clapped her hands together, eyes sharp with satisfaction, and said to Zhu Yun: “Must have fallen apart. If they’d done well, knowing his personality, he would have called long before now. He’s always been like that since he was a boy — just clever enough to be dangerous, absolutely terrible under pressure, not cut out for anything serious.”

Zhu Yun, who was largely responsible for Fang Zhijing’s team having “fallen apart,” had nothing she could possibly say to this, and sat in silence.

After their talk, Zhu Yun went to her room, showered, and then lay down on her bed with her phone.

She sent Ren Di a text——

“Done.”

A few minutes later, Ren Di replied——

“Don’t send me messages in English. Congratulations!”

Zhu Yun smiled.

Her social world was extremely simple — no particularly close friends to speak of. This was something she could really only tell Ren Di.

The next day, Zhu Yun went to the bookstore and came home with a stack of programming books. She drew up a detailed study plan for herself. The entire break was mapped out end to end — except that every so often, Zhu Yun would notice something perhaps slightly wrong with her: she’d be sitting there reading perfectly normally, and then, for no apparent reason, she would simply start smiling.

She didn’t reach out to Li Xun.

That creature was getting exclusive one-on-one instruction. She knew how completely he threw himself into whatever he was working on.

Zhu Yun kept carefully in mind the “task” Li Xun had assigned her. She had made a note of it the very evening she arrived home. When the day came, she logged into the academic affairs system using the password Li Xun had given her and registered his courses.

With motives she preferred not to examine too closely, Zhu Yun simply copied her own course selections in their entirety…… after all, Li Xun never actually paid attention in electives anyway.

The only thing she hesitated over was physical education.

For his first-year gym class, Li Xun had registered for Fitness and Bodybuilding. Not because he had any particular interest in it, of course, but because it was the one physical education course where one could legitimately slack off.

The class was supposed to be held in the school’s gymnasium — but the gym’s equipment had grown so comprehensive that it had been opened for commercial use, which meant finding a free space during class time was nearly impossible. As a result, the course had gradually shifted to being mostly lecture-based, with the actual content wrapping up within about the first third of the semester. After that, no one supervised anything at all.

In her own first year, Zhu Yun had picked yoga — for the indoor setting, and for being spared the sun and wind.

But now……

Zhu Yun thought about Li Xun, and had to admit she had been paying close attention to him for some time. Many of his habits and idiosyncrasies had, without her quite realizing it, become completely familiar to her.

For instance: his meals were completely irregular; he preferred to shower in the mornings; and his back was in serious trouble.

Yes — his back.

When she had first met Li Xun, Zhu Yun had assumed he hunched into his chair while writing code to look cool. Over time, she had slowly realized that wasn’t it at all — he slouched because his back hurt too much to sit straight. She had noticed several times that after completing a phase of work and trying to sit upright, he did so with unusual slowness, accompanied by an expression that had gone dark and tight.

The others at the base pulled the occasional all-nighter when deadlines loomed. Li Xun treated that kind of grueling workload as ordinary daily life. Zhu Yun didn’t know exactly how long he had been programming, but a back problem like his was not something that developed overnight.

Even that morning in the hotel — when he first woke up, he had lain there in bed for quite a while before he could bring himself to stand.

He had made a deliberate show of smoking, had drawn her into conversation to stretch the time. She had known all along.

This person used himself like a pack animal.

Zhu Yun shook her head and turned her attention back to the screen.

She spent an entire afternoon searching online for one purpose: to find out which sport was most effective for strengthening the back.

After a long and careful process of consideration, she finally made her decision.

*

And so, one day a month later.

The sun blazed overhead bright enough to make opening one’s eyes a genuine struggle. The asphalt underfoot had nearly softened in the heat. The surrounding air was hotter than a living body……

The court had not a single patch of shade, and a dozen or so students stood around looking as though they had resigned themselves to their fates.

Drenched in sweat, Zhu Yun pressed a hand to her chest and felt that there was probably enough moisture gathered inside her sports bra to keep a fish alive.

“If my internet hadn’t lagged……” the boy standing next to her — a damp towel draped around his neck — muttered to himself, “how could I have ended up in a situation like this……”

Zhu Yun wiped the sweat from her forehead and felt as though even her thoughts were beginning to melt.

She regretted it. She regretted it with every fiber of her being.

If she had known, she would have just picked badminton.

The sun scorched. Even the insects had gone too limp to call.

Through the haze, a figure came walking from some distance away. Zhu Yun assumed at first it was the teacher — then quickly registered that the teacher would not be this tall.

Li Xun, his shirt soaked through and sweat covering him from head to toe, stepped onto the volleyball court — fully exposed to direct overhead sunlight, not a scrap of shade anywhere.

He came and stood in front of Zhu Yun.

Zhu Yun had never known she could miss that head of dyed blond hair quite this much.

He looked exactly the same as always — and yet somehow she felt he had gotten even better-looking.

Li Xun looked at her. After a full month apart, all that accumulated missing had condensed into a single flat, ominous sentence:

“You had better give me a convincing explanation for why you picked this class.”

Zhu Yun, thoroughly baked into a stupor by the heat, murmured back:

“My internet lagged……”