Sheng Xia had just returned to the dorm when a message came through on her phone.

Song Jiang: “Come out for a bit.”

Sheng Xia replied: “What’s up?”

Song Jiang: “I’m outside.”

Just as she saw the message, her roommates returned, giving her meaningful looks. “Senior, Zhang Shu is waiting for you outside!”

Another lowered her voice, “He asked us to help you walk.”

Sheng Xia got up with her crutches. As her junior was about to come help, she had already steadied herself, saying apologetically: “Thanks, I can manage.”

“The senior is so considerate!”

“…”

It was peak time for returning to dorms, with people coming and going. All the girls curiously looked back at Zhang Shu.

He maintained his usual leisurely demeanor, leaning against the railing while scrolling through his phone. The midday sun created a halo around him.

“What’s wrong?” Sheng Xia asked after coming out. She wondered what couldn’t be said over QQ.

Zhang Shu: “Could you sleep?”

Sheng Xia: …

Zhang Shu: “Let’s go for a walk.”

A walk? Sheng Xia looked down at her leg. Looking up, her eyes said: Are you sure?

“Is your bike still at school?” Zhang Shu asked.

Her bike was indeed still here. She hadn’t ridden it since getting injured at the school sports meet; it had stayed in the bike shed.

“Yes.”

“Do you have the key with you?”

“I do.”

Zhang Shu: “Good, let’s go get it.”

Sheng Xia was a bit confused by his spontaneity. She glanced at her watch, “It’s time for a lunch break.”

Where could they go at this time? Especially with her limited mobility.

Zhang Shu laughed, “First period after lunch is PE. Big brother’s taking you to skip class.”

…

By the time Sheng Xia was sitting on the long-missed Little White’s back seat, wind whistling past her ears as they picked up speed, she slowly came to her senses – this was crazy.

Skipping class!

In all her years of studying, she’d never skipped class before. Though it was just PE, she was excused anyway because of her injury.

But still, this was a first for her. She couldn’t ignore how her heart had raced and blood had surged when she heard his suggestion.

That desire to break free from constraints and bonds had made her forget herself.

He had seemed to see right through her then, not even waiting for her agreement before patting her head and telling her: “Go get the key.”

In front of her, the young man’s broad back was exposed, his arms bare. His school uniform jacket was now on her, leaving him in just a black short-sleeve T-shirt, very thin.

Still that one with just a single rivet.

Above the rivet was his neck and beautiful nape. His fluffy hair flew about in the wind yet somehow maintained its attractive shape.

Good-looking people even had such well-behaved hair.

Sheng Xia couldn’t resist reaching out to poke that rivet.

Zhang Shu’s back straightened, and he tilted his head: “Being naughty?”

She was caught.

She’d thought such a light touch wouldn’t be noticeable.

Hearing no response from behind, Zhang Shu asked: “Are you cold?”

“Not cold,” how could she be cold with his clothes on her, “What about you, are you cold?”

Zhang Shu slowed down and turned slightly: “Pretty cold, wind’s getting through. Want to hold onto me?”

Sheng Xia’s body stiffened.

What was he saying?! Taking advantage of the wind noise to flirt? Did he think she couldn’t hear just because he spoke softly?

Her instantly racing heart betrayed her – she’d heard perfectly clearly.

Silence from behind.

Zhang Shu gave a short laugh, stopping his teasing: “Not cold. We’re almost there.”

Almost there?

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

“Oh.”

The bike turned into Binjiang Park, cruising slowly along the riverside path.

As the scent of unknown flowers wafted to his nose, Zhang Shu was about to ask his living encyclopedia what flowers smelled so sweet. Then he heard the girl’s soft voice from behind: “I’m holding crutches, can’t block the wind for you…”

At the same time, he felt a tug at his clothes. Looking down, he saw the girl’s delicate hand tightly gripping his shirt hem…

The wind couldn’t get under his clothes anymore.

Zhang Shu smiled silently, feeling the whole world was filled with fragrance, making him completely content.

What nonsense about not being able to block the wind? Who wanted her to block it?

The bike stopped at the small Binjiang Square.

Sheng Xia knew this place but had only glimpsed it in passing from the bridge, never visited.

There had been plans to build a riverside concert hall here, with a floating stage beside it. Now the floating stage drifted on the river, but the concert hall was never built – the city government had changed it to a terraced viewing platform, keeping some ruins that gave it a bit of a Roman Colosseum feel.

She’d heard Sheng Mingfeng say that if this place could be revitalized, it would become South Li University’s new landmark, but the historical entanglements were complex, investing a huge challenge, so it had been left unresolved.

Zhang Shu helped her off the bike, and they found a clean spot to sit by the steps.

Only some elderly people came here to dance at night; there were few visitors during the day.

The river breeze brought waves of coolness. Sheng Xia tried to return his jacket, “I’m not cold.”

Zhang Shu didn’t take it, saying mildly: “I’m not cold either. Put it over your leg.”

Sheng Xia didn’t listen, trying to drape it over him from behind.

She sat on his left side and naturally had to lean closer to reach his right shoulder. Zhang Shu noticed her movement and turned to refuse—

His high-bridged nose gently brushed her soft cheek, making both freezes.

Surroundings fell silent, and time stopped.

Zhang Shu gazed at the delicate face so close to his, translucently white, fine down dancing in the afternoon sun.

Sheng Xia was completely rigid.

His nose was unbelievably close. His backbone is as straight as an ice mountain.

Everything about him seemed extraordinarily vivid, carrying a unique sense of power and sharp aggression – his nose bridge, Adam’s apple, jawline, and the cutting edge in his eyes.

She didn’t move, lightly lifting her eyelids to unexpectedly meet that sharp gaze.

She found herself looking into a pair of playful eyes just inches away.

With a “bang,” something seemed to explode in her heart like a thermos flask.

Outwardly intact, inwardly in complete disarray.

She quickly let go, the jacket falling loosely on his shoulders.

“Ahem.” Zhang Shu cleared his throat, turning away and speaking flatly: “My father died here, on this construction site.”

Sheng Xia suddenly looked up at him.

His father was… gone?

Zhang Shu seemed to anticipate the girl’s reaction, “Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t even born then, so I don’t feel much. To be heartless about it, I never even knew him.”

Sheng Xia just stared at him steadily.

She had once mistakenly thought he was spoiled by his family, which explained his bad temper.

“I never met my mother either. They say she left right after having me. My sister raised me. How old was my sister then?” Zhang Shu looked Sheng Xia up and down, making a gesture at her height, “Probably about your age now.”

He spoke in his usual casual tone, without any fluctuation, but Sheng Xia’s heart felt like it was being tossed around on a roller coaster.

“Stop giving me that look!” The young man glanced over, seeing the girl’s eyes deep with melancholy, and reached out to ruffle her head, saying rather helplessly, “Seems I didn’t introduce the topic well – did I make you even more unhappy?”

Sheng Xia hadn’t expected her involuntary reaction to be noticed by him. She collected herself before speaking: “Even though they’re gone, they must have loved you very much, to name you ‘Shu.'”

“My parents weren’t very educated. This name was probably given by my sister.”

“…”

“Then your sister loves you very much too. To her, you’re the timely rain, heaven’s blessing.”

Zhang Shu looked a bit surprised, “You’re the first person around me who knows what this character means. Did you look it up?” As soon as he said this, he seemed to realize something, “Well, you’re such a cultured person, it’s not strange that you’d know.”

Sheng Xia: … Should she thank him for the compliment?

Zhang Shu didn’t wait for her response, continuing on his own: “My sister never married, so I’ve always hoped she could find a good match. The prerequisite for that is that I can take care of myself, and have my path forward. But before, my grades weren’t good because I didn’t like studying – studying was hard. Later when I wanted to study, looking back I’d fallen so far behind. So at first, I was like you – my goals were too strong, too distant, which made me stagnate because my mind was too chaotic, all tangled up.”

Sheng Xia listened quietly, saying nothing.

She recalled Wang Wei saying that Zhang Shu’s entrance scores hadn’t been good, which was why he’d been placed in the parallel class.

“So I can understand your current state. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, you’re too desperate to prove your strength,” he stood up, stepped down to the next level, and then turned to look at her, “That day at the hospital…” he seemed uncomfortable discussing this and paused, choosing to skip over it, “You’re living and studying under two contradictory educational approaches, two completely different sets of expectations…”

Sheng Xia’s hands tightened, her eyelashes trembling lightly.

Just from meeting her parents once – no, not even meeting them, just overhearing a few exchanges – he had hit the nail on the head.

Was he only seventeen? The Zhang Shu before her seemed completely different from usual.

Her eyes held many emotions, making Zhang Shu pause, suddenly hesitant about whether to continue the conversation.

But he heard the girl ask softly: “Then what should I do?”

What to do.

Zhang Shu hadn’t wanted to lecture her too much, but she seemed to need it.

“Setting aside these two completely different expectations, what about your expectations? Which university do you want to attend?” Zhang Shu posed the question.

Sheng Xia shook her head, “My abilities are limited…”

“Limited abilities, so you don’t know which university you can get into, which major you can study?” he interrupted, completing her thought.

Sheng Xia looked at him in surprise.

“I’m not psychic – you said these same words at the bookstore last time,” Zhang Shu smiled knowingly, “See, you have such distant goals, wanting to leave your mark on the world, but you don’t even know which university you want to attend…”

Sheng Xia lowered her head again, “Because this isn’t something I can decide. It’s not just about me.”

“This is exactly about just you.” His tone was firm.

“Even if it’s not, you have to treat it like it’s just your own business. Which university to attend, what scores to achieve, which difficult knowledge points to master – these are all just your own business, completely unrelated to others’ expectations. Only by doing your own thing, controlling your steering wheel, will the path become clearest.”

Sheng Xia said: “If it were just about me, I probably would have studied liberal arts. I might not have a brain for science.”

Zhang Shu gazed at her for half a second: “Perhaps liberal arts would indeed suit you better, but that’s regrettably already settled. Moreover, I don’t believe science students are smarter than liberal arts students. Verbal logic is the world’s most fundamental logic – all logic is initially expressed through words, and the ultimate end of all science is philosophy. The logical structure in your writing is so clear, your thinking is extremely active, sensitive yet precise – who dares say you’re not smart?”

No one had ever told her she was smart before.

Sheng Xia’s heart trembled slightly.

“How can you boldly study when you’re carrying this presumption that you’re not suited for science?” Zhang Shu looked into a pair of helpless, isolated eyes, trying to speak from her “cultured person” perspective: “It’s right to look at the path ahead when walking, but that only applies to tall people. If you can only crawl right now, then just focus on the path within arm’s reach – grab whatever handholds you can find. Once you get through this muddy patch, you can stand up again ahead.”

“Within arm’s reach…” Sheng Xia murmured.

“Just do well on the problems in front of you, study the books in front of you. Whether it’s science or liberal arts, what connection it has to your grand goals – who cares? I must understand this problem, I must remember this knowledge point, I must master this method – don’t worry about anything else… Systematic approach, foundation building, challenging problems, cost-effectiveness of score improvement – these classifications and theories aren’t suitable for you to think about, and you don’t need to obsess over gains and losses in single subjects or individual tests.”

Indeed, she was always worrying about her weak foundation, feeling she needed to solidify previous knowledge points before going deeper. Sometimes she was too fixated on being systematic, wanting to figure out the reasoning for every subject, drawing dense mind maps in her notebook, panicking if one link was missing. When solving problems, who could remember all these systems…

Thinking about it, it was just self-indulgent, wasted effort.

How did he know all this?

“Is there still time?” she asked almost unconsciously.

Zhang Shu said: “I won’t give you empty encouragement. At this time you need to maintain absolute clarity – believe you can do it while accepting that you might not be able to, understand that you won’t succeed every time, and believe you can succeed next time. No matter what happens today, after a good night’s sleep comes a new morning.”

Sheng Xia looked at him. From this angle, she had to look up slightly. The young man’s expression was lazy, but his eyes held light.

She felt she finally understood why he was so strong – he deserved to be this strong.

Zhang Shu: “Actually, all this is just empty talk. Most importantly, you need to be happier, and more free-spirited. If you don’t understand something, just ask and keep learning. It’s just an exam paper after all – don’t take it too seriously. Learning can be pure too.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Zhang Shu nodded, “You’ve already organized your mistakes very well, but haven’t reviewed them enough. Score improvement can’t happen overnight. This math test covered three years of content for the first time – there were many scattered, detailed knowledge points, and the average score was naturally low. It’s not that you haven’t improved. Someone as smart and hardworking as you won’t end up with bad results.”

Two seconds later he added: “I mean ultimately.”

His tone was calm, his words precise.

She looked a bit dazed, and after a long while murmured: “I’m starting to believe what I heard about Han Xiao becoming completely devoted after talking with you…”

Zhang Shu was startled, not expecting this reaction, then laughed, “Is that so? I often feel I’m a philosopher.”

Sheng Xia: …

He had just said philosophy was the ultimate end of science.

The light vanished, replaced by a narcissist in the black hole.

Seeing her expression finally relax a bit, Zhang Shu smiled, “Where did you hear all this? What else have you heard about me?”

What else – the unspeakable affairs with the school beauty.

Of course, Sheng Xia didn’t say this out loud, looking down to fidget with her pants instead.

Zhang Shu laughed, raising one leg to step onto her level, suddenly leaning close to look her in the eye, “So have you become completely devoted too?”

Whoosh—

The river crashed against the shore, imposing.

Sheng Xia gazed into the cunning eyes so close to her, and her heart was like that river – it was coming and going, direction and force, all beyond her control.

This was bad – she could no longer use “just flirting” to stop her wildly beating heart.