Zhou Jingze finally brought her back to school, where Sheng Nanzhou and the others were already in the rehearsal room. This was Xu Sui’s second time visiting Beihang University. Just as they entered the school gate, they happened to encounter a formation team that had just finished training, wearing navy blue uniforms, looking heroic and spirited like a massive wave sweeping over.

“How come I’ve never seen you wear a pilot’s uniform?” Xu Sui asked.

Every time Xu Sui saw him, he was dressed in black – either a black jacket or windbreaker. She had never seen him in uniform.

“That’s because your timing in seeing me is unfortunate,” Zhou Jingze turned his head, his eyes falling on her, letting out a slight snicker. “What, do you want to see me wear one?”

Xu Sui met his gaze and couldn’t answer for a moment, stammering: “No… I saw that Sheng Nanzhou also… doesn’t wear one.”

She tried to cover up her explanation to Zhou Jingze, who looked straight ahead in a casual manner, not knowing if he was listening.

Suddenly, a male student rushed past, brushing against her shoulder. Zhou Jingze naturally reached out and grabbed her elbow, causing Xu Sui to instantly stiffen with tense nerves as he directly pulled her aside.

Xu Sui stumbled, her chin hitting his shoulder. The two were so close that when she looked up, she caught sight of his sharp jawline – a bit hard, the wildly growing bones of a young man, lean yet powerful. Wind blew through the gap between them, and she felt the warmth of his bones, her heart starting to beat uncontrollably.

“Watch where you’re going.” A low voice fell from above her head.

Zhou Jingze walked ahead with both hands in his pockets. Xu Sui followed behind, the elbow he had grabbed still numb, as if electric currents were crackling through it.

She secretly gestured at Zhou Jingze’s back – earlier, her chin had barely reached his shoulder.

When they arrived at the rehearsal room, they were already twenty minutes late. Sheng Nanzhou was so angry he wanted to throw his shoe at Zhou Jingze but didn’t dare, shouting: “You’re treating us to dinner after rehearsal!”

“Fine,” Zhou Jingze pressed his tongue against his left cheek and smiled.

Sheng Nanzhou stood at the front and began rambling: “Except for Master Zhou, everyone’s instruments have probably been gathering dust. For this rehearsal, let’s first practice our instruments individually to get familiar again, then in the second half we can randomly pick a song to practice our coordination. How’s that?”

No one paid attention to him.

Sheng Nanzhou instinctively cast a pleading look at the good-natured Xu Sui, who gave him face by saying: “Okay.”

The rehearsal room was large. Xu Sui sat in front of the drum kit, twirled the drumsticks in her hands, and began practicing to find her rhythm. Everyone started practicing their respective instruments, and while practicing, she took the opportunity to listen to Da Liu sing.

Da Liu was tall and sturdy with somewhat fierce features, but unexpectedly his voice was quite pleasant and gentle – quite a contrast.

The group was practicing, producing different instrumental sounds, when suddenly a deep sound similar to melancholy piano on a rainy day came through, involuntarily drawing people into the lost mood of a rainy day. The music was very beautiful.

Everyone in the room unconsciously put down their instruments and looked in unison toward Zhou Jingze, who was sitting at the front playing the cello. Due to everyone’s overly synchronized actions and worshipful gazes, Sheng Nanzhou asked: “Isn’t my accordion playing handsome too?”

“You look like you’re playing a mop. Do you think you’re holding Harry Potter’s broomstick?” Hu Qianxi had a “wake up” expression on her face.

Xu Sui stared at Zhou Jingze’s back in a daze. He sat diagonally in front of her. For the first time, she could openly watch him. Back in high school, he sat in the last row, and when the teacher called on other students to stand and answer questions during class, she would pretend to turn around to look at that student.

Actually, she was turning back to look at Zhou Jingze.

Her peripheral vision was full of him.

She didn’t know when Zhou Jingze had taken off his jacket, wearing only a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his well-proportioned forearms. He turned his head sideways, his left knee supporting the left side of the cello, his other long leg clamping the deep red body of the instrument. His right hand held the bow, slowly drawing it across the strings, while his left hand pressed and plucked the strings above.

The casual air about Zhou Jingze had disappeared. His back was straight like a bow, his gaze focused, with light dancing on his eyelashes – both roguishly elegant and gentlemanly.

The cello music was very moving, like experiencing rain and wind, with countless thoughts contained within. Xu Sui sat behind, quietly listening, remembering the first half of her second year of high school – the frustration of blocked problem-solving thoughts, the plain period of ordinary days when she occasionally envied others’ free-spirited brilliance.

On a Wednesday, it poured heavily. Mist filled the entire classroom building, even covering the desks with a layer of moisture. The rain was too heavy, so most people stayed at school for lunch. The classroom was noisy with people playing games, telling dirty jokes, doing homework – everything.

Because her math grades weren’t satisfactory and the classroom environment was terrible, Xu Sui ran alone to the lecture hall on the top floor. While passing through that corridor, she inadvertently glimpsed Zhou Jingze with a group of people.

Several boys and a well-known girl from school were together, talking and laughing. Zhou Jingze sat in the middle, not talking much, with a lazy smile that was nevertheless the most captivating.

Someone made a joke about the girl and Zhou Jingze, and she wasn’t shy, asking: “Do you dare?”

He sat on the desk, back against the wall, his school uniform jacket loose. His profile was sharp and distinct. Hearing this, he slowly smiled and placed his hand on the girl’s waist, his palm rubbing neither lightly nor heavily.

The sensation was thrilling. The girl let out a coquettish sound and surrendered completely, leaning against his shoulder.

Then he leaned close to the girl’s ear to whisper, libertine yet mesmerizing.

Jeering and screaming sounds erupted around them.

Although she only saw his back, she recognized at a glance the arrogant and distinctive tattoo on his hand, and beside him stood a cello with a “Z” carved on its body.

Who else could it be but him?

Xu Sui quickly averted her gaze. Amid their jeering and the girl’s coquettish laughter, she quickened her pace and entered the innermost lecture hall, closed the door, breathing lightly, and began reviewing her mistakes. But she couldn’t focus on a single wrong problem, her throat unbearably dry.

Zhou Jingze seemed to say something, and the group quickly pushed the door and left. The next room became quiet. Just when she thought everyone had gone, she heard the distinctive, melodious sound of a cello from next door.

Only Zhou Jingze was there.

He was practicing. Inexplicably, Xu Sui’s heart calmed down. She picked up the test papers and notes from the desk and walked to the side against the wall. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall and began quietly correcting mistakes and working on test papers.

Accompanied by the sound of rain, separated by a wall, she listened to Zhou Jingze practice cello for nearly an hour.

Those two or three months were the rainy season, with the sky soaked in a layer of misty moisture. Whenever it rained heavily at noon and she had to stay at school, Xu Sui would run to the lecture hall to study. And to listen to Zhou Jingze play cello.

She was testing her luck – sometimes he would come, sometimes not.

All her classmates complained about the inconvenience of rainy days and the humidity of the returning south weather, but she loved it.

She wished it would rain every day, because you were there.

And now, looking at Zhou Jingze’s back, Xu Sui thought she could finally openly watch him play cello.

After the group finished rehearsing, it was already past seven in the evening. They were about to go out for dinner, chatting as they walked out of the rehearsal hall. The sky showed a curtain of dark blue, with cold wind gusts. Xu Sui unconsciously shivered.

Zhou Jingze walked ahead, the dim streetlight stretching his shadow long. Xu Sui secretly stepped into his shadow.

After hearing Zhou Jingze play cello, Da Liu’s admiration for him reached another level, chattering non-stop along the way.

“Master Zhou, your level is completely at the standard of a national theater concert hall. Didn’t I hear you were going to Austria to continue studying music? How did you end up here suffering?” Da Liu asked.

Xu Sui stood aside listening to their conversation. She was actually very curious about why Zhou Jingze would make such a choice. Giving up a great future to come here and choose the uncertain aviation technology major.

Back at Tianzhong High School, Zhou Jingze’s volunteer change had caused quite a stir, but no one knew his reasons for doing so.

Zhou Jingze walked ahead while looking down at his phone, smiled upon hearing this but didn’t answer.

Da Liu was desperately curious. He instinctively looked at Sheng Nanzhou, who shrugged: “From childhood to now, I’ve never understood what he’s thinking. The guy is very mature. Would he still be your Master Zhou if he were so easily understood?”

Zhou Jingze directly kicked Sheng Nanzhou: “You’re wasted not being a storyteller.”

“I want to sew his mouth shut with needle and thread every time,” Hu Qianxi agreed completely.

Just as Sheng Nanzhou was about to say something, a male student approached from the side – quite tall with double eyelids. He walked up to Hu Qianxi, his tone shy: “Um… could I get your phone number?”

The group stopped walking. Zhou Jingze finally deigned to look up from his phone a bit, watching the person standing to the side with leisurely interest.

Zhou Jingze wasn’t looking at Hu Qianxi; he was looking at Sheng Nanzhou.

Today, because of band rehearsal, Hu Qianxi was wearing a black jacket and black pants, had specially applied smoky makeup, and was carrying a bass as she walked – she indeed had a cool and spirited air.

Completely different from her usual cute image with anime-style bangs.

“Me?” Hu Qianxi pointed at herself with her finger.

The boy scratched his head: “Yes, I won’t disturb you at night.”

Hu Qianxi was always straightforward, and since the other party was a decent-looking guy, she was about to say “okay” when Sheng Nanzhou spoke up, asking: “Buddy, are you astigmatic or nearsighted? Do you need me to take you to get that checked?”

“Huh?”

“Sheng Nanzhou!”

Two voices rang out in unison.

“Have you thought this through? This girl has tons of problems. Don’t be fooled by her appearance – she’s stupid and has a bad temper…” Sheng Nanzhou said earnestly, listing several of her faults.

The boy eventually left.

They stood together, Sheng Nanzhou putting his arm around Hu Qianxi’s shoulder and urging: “Hurry up, let’s go eat.”

“Don’t touch me!” Hu Qianxi’s volume suddenly increased.

Hu Qianxi shook off Sheng Nanzhou’s hand. Before she could speak, a scalding tear dropped on his hand, her eyes red: “Do you think you know me very well?”

Sheng Nanzhou panicked and instinctively wanted to step forward to wipe her tears, but Hu Qianxi stepped back, looking at him with eyes full of grievance and confusion: “Why are you always like this? If you find me so annoying, why do you always include me in everything!”

“It’s not like that…”

Without waiting for Sheng Nanzhou’s explanation, Hu Qianxi ran away after speaking. Xu Sui was extremely worried and her first instinct was to chase after her, but someone was faster, running toward the direction Hu Qianxi had fled.

“What’s wrong with them? Don’t they always bicker like this?” Da Liu looked completely confused.

“Who knows?” Zhou Jingze smiled with unclear meaning.

“Are we still eating then?” Da Liu asked.

Before Zhou Jingze could get the word “eat” out, his phone rang urgently. He walked to a nearby spot to answer.

Two minutes later, Zhou Jingze returned, his brow furrowed, his tone somewhat anxious: “Something came up, I have to go.”