Tan Yin followed Chu Hang back to the studio, downcast. She hastily wrapped up her own model, then started working on Chu Hang’s. Perhaps out of fear of Chu Hang’s overbearing pressure, or perhaps out of a reluctance to defile the exquisite half-finished model in the face of his craftsmanship, Tan Yin, under his supervision, actually threw herself into the work with tremendous seriousness.

Chu Hang redrew his plans off to the side while Tan Yin sat beside him fiddling with the model.

By the time the sky had grown faintly light, Tan Yin finally finished Chu Hang’s model. Looking at the finished product, full of design sense, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of accomplishment.

She turned to look at Chu Hang and found he was still quietly drawing, his eyes fixed only on the plans, focused and absorbed. From Tan Yin’s angle, she could clearly see the shadow cast by Chu Hang’s long eyelashes under his eyes. As he blinked gently, Tan Yin noticed — this wasn’t just the shadow of his lashes, there were also faint traces of the all-nighter under his eyes. Yet his whole being showed not a hint of fatigue, so utterly absorbed that he’d forgotten everything around him, not even noticing Tan Yin’s direct gaze.

“I’m done!!! I’m finally f*cking done!!!”

Only when another classmate in the studio let out an ecstatic shout did Chu Hang’s focus finally break. He looked up instinctively, yet his eyes still held the expression from studying the drawings —

a gaze so clean it was clear, carrying serious persistence and total self-forgetfulness, a slight bewilderment at being interrupted, along with the lingering remnants of complete concentration.

Tan Yin, caught off guard, crashed straight into that gaze of Chu Hang’s.

Tan Yin’s heart suddenly started pounding violently. She’d long known Chu Hang was handsome; but usually, seeing that face so frequently, Tan Yin considered herself someone who’d seen the world, not one to make a fuss over his sort of luxurious, refined handsomeness. Yet this one look now — she actually felt the urge to look away.

This man was too good-looking, and in that moment, his gaze gave the illusion that such absorbed attention wasn’t directed at the architectural drawings at all, but at the person in front of him.

This was genuinely a bit dangerous.

Tan Yin almost instinctively tried to change the subject, wanting to dispel this subtle atmosphere. She glanced at Chu Hang’s drawing and casually made up a topic, feigning composure. “Why are you drawing so slowly? I drew way faster than you back then. Are you even any good, Chu Hang? I already finished your model for you, you know!”

Chu Hang only glanced at Tan Yin, pressed his lips together, said nothing, then lowered his head again, continuing to focus on his drawing.

Seeing he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge her, Tan Yin instead calmed down. Idle and bored, having pulled an all-nighter, she was oddly energized now rather than sleepy — just hungry. Just then, some other classmates who’d already finished were organizing a trip to the nearby 24-hour convenience store to eat, so Tan Yin tagged along.

After huffing and puffing through a bowl of instant noodles at the convenience store, she returned to the studio to find Chu Hang no longer drawing. He was now standing in front of her own desk, holding her drawing.

He was looking at Tan Yin’s design.

Tan Yin almost instinctively tried to snatch her drawing back. “Chu Hang, you’d better not be peeking at my drawing to steal my design!”

Chu Hang looked utterly incredulous, his voice cold. “Tan Yin, have you slept so little you’re having delusions? Me, steal your design?”

“I know my scheme is theoretically definitely worse than yours, but what if? What if you’re trying to find inspiration and learn from my drawing on the sly? My professional foundation might not be great, but my artistic understanding and creative thinking are still pretty good, right? They say talent, like pregnancy, shows itself eventually — maybe you sharply noticed my potential in architectural design, and want to draw out the essence from my work?”

“Your exhibition area has six floors, your collections storage has eight floors, and neither is connected to the exhibition area — separated either by the visitor center or the lecture hall. This is your museum design scheme?”

Tan Yin glared at Chu Hang.

“The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York has over 3 million pieces in its collection and can accommodate 5 million visitors annually, but it only has three floors. It’s basic knowledge in museum design that the exhibition area and collections storage shouldn’t exceed four floors, because transporting collections on the second floor and above requires considering vertical transport equipment and costs — many large stone sculpture exhibits are also more likely to suffer damage during that kind of vertical transport.”

“When designing the layout, the collections storage should be as close to the exhibition area as possible, since many collections aren’t suitable for outdoor transport — you should minimize temperature and humidity changes when moving them from storage to the exhibition area.” Chu Hang finished, then pointed at Tan Yin’s drawing. “The exhibition area, storage, and restoration workshop should ideally be arranged along a north-south axis to avoid western sun exposure.”

……

“Finally, your circulation design also has major problems. A museum’s visitor flow should minimize crossing and repetition as much as possible.”

Chu Hang looked over Tan Yin’s drawing from top to bottom, critiquing nearly every design decision until there was hardly anything left standing. His voice even carried a certain coldness, his usual chilliness now laced with a serious severity.

When he finished, he looked at Tan Yin. “With a design like yours, I genuinely can’t find a single highlight from start to finish. How exactly would I steal your design? Managing to make a scheme turn out like this — Tan Yin, you’re quite something.”

“……”

Chu Hang glanced at Tan Yin. “Whether mine is any good is for the professor to judge, but yours definitely isn’t. Yours is far below the passing line.”

Tan Yin felt embarrassed, and defended herself. “I just don’t like architecture. Studying architecture was a mistake from the start — I was forced into it by my dad. It’s not that I can’t do it, I just have no interest in drawing it…”

“Tan Yin, a person needs to at least be capable of doing something well before they’re qualified to say they’re choosing not to do it out of lack of interest,” Chu Hang said, his expression cold, his tone heavy. “It’s just that a lot of people use ‘no interest’ to cover up their own incompetence.”

For a moment, thick-skinned as Tan Yin was, her face burned.

Chu Hang’s dictionary apparently had no concept of stopping while ahead — he gave her no face at all. “You probably haven’t even done on-site research at any museum in City A, just recklessly whipped up your drawings to get the assignment over with. Weak foundation, not diligent, and no initiative to learn on your own — how could you possibly learn architecture well? Do you think architecture is just something to coast through? I can’t even imagine — once someone like you graduates and enters the industry, what could you possibly do besides burden your colleagues? Would the houses you design ever consider the client’s real needs? Would there be even the slightest humanistic care in them?”

Chu Hang wasn’t usually an approachable person to begin with, but at this moment, mentioning architecture, his attitude was more serious and severe than ever — he almost defended the architecture profession as though defending himself.

“Tan Yin, without respect and understanding for architecture, you will never learn it well.”

Chu Hang’s voice was cold and hard. “I agreed before to be your support-pairing partner because I thought you wanted to learn architecture well but hadn’t found the right method — that there was still something to be salvaged. Now it seems I was overly optimistic.” Chu Hang glanced at her. “I think you’d better just enjoy a good meal and go on your way.”

Before Tan Yin could even respond, Chu Hang handed down his verdict. “Don’t come looking for me anymore. I’ll tell the counselor to switch partners for the pairing group. And stop trying these crooked little schemes to get close to me.”

Tan Yin had pulled all-nighters for days straight, cultivating like an immortal seeking enlightenment, and now on top of that she’d been thoroughly lectured by Chu Hang — she felt a knot of unresolved resentment in her chest. She admitted that, out of resistance, she genuinely hadn’t put her heart into architecture, and being mocked by Chu Hang for it was fair enough. But—

But saying she couldn’t learn architecture well? Fine, then she’d learn it well and show him!

Tan Yin looked at her utterly worthless drawing and, for the first time, made a serious decision.

She would work hard! She would turn things around! She would slap Chu Hang in the face!

Except this burst of ambition lasted only three days before Tan Yin wilted.

Jiang Yilu watched Tan Yin pull out her textbooks with an air of mysterious, flushed determination, then set them back down looking utterly withered, and nodded knowingly. “You need to master a study method — that’s how you get twice the result with half the effort. If you want to turn things around and slap someone’s face, you need a proper kung fu manual too!”

“Then hurry up and teach me!”

Jiang Yilu flicked her hair back, full of coquettish flair. “Sister, do you have some unrealistic fantasy about me? Do I look like I have anything to teach you?”

“……”

“You should learn the enemy’s advanced techniques to defeat the enemy,” Jiang Yilu advised. “And Sun Tzu’s Art of War says, know yourself and know your enemy, and you’ll never be defeated in a hundred battles. If you want to slap Chu Hang’s face, you should go study how he studies, learn his study methods on the sly. I heard from Chen Ziqiang that Chu Hang barely studies in the dorm at all — so think about it, how could his grades still be this good? He must be secretly studying somewhere else. To maintain his image as the top student, who knows how hard he’s grinding behind the scenes.”

Tan Yin was shocked. “Have modern people become so dishonest? Even men are this fake nowadays?”

“Heh, haven’t you heard the saying — you have to work hard to make it look effortless? Chu Hang might seem effortless when studying, but behind the scenes, he might be living way more miserably than us — maybe he’s under so much pressure to maintain his top-of-the-class reputation that he can’t sleep, suffers from hair loss, and cries himself to sleep every night…”

“Doesn’t seem like it though…” Tan Yin analyzed. “I’ve never seen him with dark circles, doesn’t seem like someone who loses sleep. His hairline hasn’t receded either, and his eyes don’t look like they’ve been cried out from crying…”

“Dark circles get covered with concealer, receding hairlines get hairline powder, and puffy eyes from crying just need a spoon to ice them down,” Jiang Yilu said, full of sympathy. “Tan Yin, you’re an architecture student and you don’t even know this? How do you expect to survive in this field? Dark circles, balding, and crying yourself to sleep at night are basically standard equipment for us architecture students!”

“……”

Though Jiang Yilu’s wild train of thought was hardly convincing, her words did give Tan Yin an idea. Chu Hang’s mastery of the subject was so solid he must have put in serious effort — and there happened to be thunderstorms these past two days, so why not take advantage of her invisibility to observe Chu Hang and scope out his secrets? What good study materials was he secretly using — she could just buy the same book, couldn’t she?

Since turning in the design project, Chu Hang hadn’t seen Tan Yin for several days, and he felt his mood was even brighter than the sunshine these past two days.

Even though today’s weather wasn’t clear — right now there was a thunderstorm outside — Chu Hang, sitting in the library, still carried that sunny mood from before.

This little broom star had finally left his life alone.

He’d finally gained some precious peace, and could sit down and properly enjoy a book.

He set the book down, just about to open it, when he heard a surprised exclamation—

“You’re reading The Path of Beauty? No way. That cover of The Path of Beauty must be hiding some other architecture textbook underneath. I didn’t expect you’d use this trick too — and here I thought I was the only one who peeled the cover off my math textbook to paste it onto a novel. Chu Hang, oh Chu Hang, you scheming man, I really misjudged you.”

“……”

The library was very quiet. There wasn’t a single person in front of Chu Hang’s desk; the other students around were all bent over their studies, no one looking up.

Yet Tan Yin’s voice followed him like a shadow: “Have you heard of the butterfly effect? Lots of tiny changes can trigger huge chain reactions over time. You might think you just mocked me, but little did you know — you’ve unknowingly planted a fierce rival for your own future. Someday I, Tan Yin, will be a defining figure in architectural history!”

“I already have two plans now. Plan A: starting today, study hard, aim to catch up and overtake you within a year or two, slap your face red and swollen. Plan B: if I can’t surpass you professionally, no problem — I’ll focus on wellness and building a strong body instead. As long as I live long enough, once you’re dead, once all our classmates with better grades than me are dead, I’ll be the master. After all, life is a marathon — you win the sprint, but the one who laughs at the finish line is me. Generally speaking women live longer than men anyway, though there is one way a man could live really long — I hear those court eunuchs in ancient times all lived to a ripe old age, probably because eliminating desire keeps you from wearing out your kidneys…”

“……”

Chu Hang only felt his head swelling. Someone tell him — why was this little broom star here again?!

Why was he having auditory hallucinations again, out of nowhere?!

Chu Hang flipped through The Path of Beauty expressionlessly, while Tan Yin’s voice remained right beside his ear.

“Huh? You’re actually reading The Path of Beauty? Let me make a note of that, I’ll read it too when I get back…”

He couldn’t focus on this book today. Chu Hang snapped it shut and opened his laptop, only for Tan Yin’s voice to remain just as persistent.

“Huh? This folder on your desktop named ‘Academic Materials’ — that name gives off some ideas. I hear folders named like that on guys’ computers are usually…”

Chu Hang felt the blood rush to his head. Keeping his face stern, he clicked open the folder named “Academic Materials”…

“Oh.” Tan Yin’s voice was filled with disappointment. “Architectural design drawings of famous buildings — really is academic material. Chu Hang, you’re kind of boring, you know that?”

“……”

Chu Hang tried his best to ignore this inexplicable hallucination in his head. He glanced at his screen — it was running low on battery — so he took out his charging cable. The library’s power outlets were all on the floor, and Chu Hang had no choice but to lean half his upper body under the desk, bending down to plug it in.

“Wow, Chu Hang, that pose of yours — your butt sticking up like that is quite the crime-inducing sight. Zhu Kangmei would look at this and want to touch it, hahahaha.”

Chu Hang’s composure finally cracked at that — his hand trembled, and the hand plugging in the cable lost control. In an instant, he felt a mild electric shock in his hand; a few sparks made him instinctively drop the power cable.

The library’s outlets were old and worn — luckily, Chu Hang got off with only a small shock, no serious harm.

Chu Hang stood up tensely, his face expressionless as he finally plugged in the laptop’s power properly. Just as he was internally debating whether he needed to see a psychiatrist about this hallucination, reality delivered the fatal blow.

“Chu Hang, you’d better focus when plugging in an outlet, or what you’re holding in your hand won’t be a power cable anymore — it’ll be the key to heaven!”

Chu Hang followed the direction of the voice, and this time he really had seen a ghost — not only auditory hallucinations, now visual ones too.

Sitting right in front of him, chin propped on both hands, was none other than Tan Yin. This little broom star was now staring at him without a shred of restraint…

Things were getting a bit tricky. Maybe he really had gotten his brain fried by the shock, Chu Hang thought. He needed to go see a doctor.