“Endure a bit, fight a bit, once you get to university it’ll be easier!” This was a phrase high school teachers often repeated.

This was completely a lie, or rather, a selectively believable lie.

It was good to believe it then, but after high school, one definitely shouldn’t take it seriously.

If the college entrance exam was life’s watershed, climbing over it, the university was a river delta – seemingly smooth and broad on the surface, but the foundation relied entirely on sediment. Some progressed steadily, accumulating rich deposits over four years; others drifted lazily through, rushing blindly into society’s vast ocean.

University made the free even freer, and the self-disciplined even more self-disciplined. After university came stark contrasts.

Though it was a class-free Saturday, the dorm was empty. Sheng Xia and her roommates were all in the library, searching through the “reading lists” given by professors that week.

This was how the Literature Department worked, with outside reading taking up the majority. People always said the Literature Department had few classes and was easy, little knowing that even with dedicated class time, one couldn’t finish the endless reading lists.

Sheng Xia and her roommates weren’t in the same major. Her Classical Chinese Literature major had only three people, two males, and one female – this ratio was practically miraculous, given the department’s overall 1:9 male-to-female ratio.

However, among professors, the gender ratio was balanced.

The counselor joked: “See that, boys don’t be discouraged, men who persist in the Literature Department either become great masters or great scholars!”

Indeed, they were all great scholars.

Almost every class refreshed Sheng Xia’s understanding. The authors of books she’d read, compilers of textbooks, descendants of great Confucian scholars stood at the podium speaking freely, and the friends mentioned in interesting stories were all figures from biographies – this feeling was truly magical and wonderful.

Sheng Xia’s advisor Professor Tan taught Ancient Chinese, people called him Master Tan, and he was very popular in the department. His lectures were said to be humorous, like a roast show.

Though they didn’t have his class yet in the first semester of freshman year, Master Tan said he wanted to meet their three “pioneering warriors” who had chosen Classical Chinese Literature.

Sheng Xia thus declined Zhang Shu’s date invitation.

Zhang Shu looked at Sheng Xia’s reply in WeChat, furrowing his brows.

This was her second time refusing his date invitation.

The semester had only been two weeks, making the rejection rate 100%.

Last week she said Saturday was for visiting the school museum and Sunday was for gathering with roommates, refusing him; this week it was meeting with her advisor.

Though the reasons were all-sufficient, Zhang Shu inexplicably felt something was off.

After all, visiting the school museum and gathering with roommates wouldn’t take all day, squeezing in time was possible, and even just an afternoon or evening would work.

She seemed not so eager about “dates,” and vaguely showed some resistance.

Nothing to be done.

This was his fault, giving her a bad experience on their first date.

Zhang Shu didn’t go to the library, taking advantage of their free time to scan through the forum.

In an era flooded with apps and mini-programs, even their affiliated high school had the somewhat trendy “Faith Wind” mini-program, yet as one of the nation’s top Computer Science departments, internal academic exchanges still used the most traditional BBS, which truly surprised Zhang Shu.

The forum interface looked dated, but the content was sufficiently current, not disappointing Zhang Shu.

Valuable content, all valuable content.

Whether he understood or not, Zhang Shu browsed through everything first, bookmarking some excellent posts, and making simple plans combined with his class schedule.

He needed self-study.

Unlike other departments in the college, the Computer Science department was over half the competition students. In Zhang Shu’s dorm, only he was purely from the college entrance exam; of the others, one had an International Informatics Competition gold medal, one silver, and one entered through the “innovative talent” path, having participated in international robotics competitions.

Apart from having some advantage in physics and mathematics courses, Zhang Shu would be completely overwhelmed in major courses, possibly struggling come finals.

Though just starting school, signs were already visible.

After all, for informatics competition students, freshman major courses were like child’s play.

This was others’ head start advantage, impossible to overcome short term.

Take it step by step, anxiety was useless either way.

At five in the afternoon, Zhang Shu left the dorm, taking his familiar route to River Clear University.

If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain.

His roommates teased: “Zhang Shu probably knows River Clear’s paths better than Sea Peaceful’s.”

It was true – he hadn’t explored much of Sea Peaceful, because he couldn’t understand what was interesting about a bunch of guys hanging out together.

When they saw lakes and waters, they’d only say “This spot looks nice,” seeing pavilions and towers, only “This pavilion’s not bad,” seeing couples embracing under trees, they’d curse “Disgusting couples.”

Boring.

Zhang Shu would rather go to River Clear to be cursed as a “disgusting couple.”

…

Professor Tan lived on campus. Sheng Xia and her two “fellow disciples” bought some fruit and visited together.

At River Clear, departments like Literature that assigned advisors from freshman year were rare. Compared to other colleges’ bustling competitive atmosphere, the Literature Department was relatively utopian, known as the “Noble House.”

However, this was only relative – after all, wherever there were people, there would be competition.

Walking into the house, the scent of books and ink wafted over.

Professor Tan’s home still had twenty or thirty-year-old decorations, white doilies covered the leather sofa, behind was an entire wall of books, and the floor and tea table were piled with books. Teacher’s Day had just passed, and many flower bouquets sat around, still wrapped, carnations already wilting.

Master Tan looked up from his computer, hair graying, age spots on his cheeks, eyes bright, peering over his reading glasses, “You’re here, sit and wait, I’m replying to a student’s email.”

The three sat down; though the teacher seemed kind, they weren’t quite at ease.

Master Tan muttered to himself: “Bullying this old man, this email, been replying since Teacher’s Day, still not finished.”

One male student said: “Teacher, your students are everywhere, seniors remember you even after graduation.”

Master Tan chuckled: “Ah, Orchid Pavilion is gone, Zize lies in ruins…”

“You’re Sheng Xia.” Master Tan came around from his desk, looking at the only girl, easily recognizing her.

Sheng Xia stood up: “Hello, Teacher.”

“Sit, sit down, I’ve read some of your book.”

Both fellow disciples were surprised; beyond surprise, Sheng Xia felt nervous – how could her little work be worthy of such attention? But she also faintly anticipated the teacher’s evaluation.

Master Tan took off his glasses, suddenly sighing: “Ah, I’d say, no need to write!”

Sheng Xia listened, feeling somewhat defeated and nervous.

Master Tan suddenly changed tone, speaking playfully: “Did I scare the young lady? Ah, I meant this admission process isn’t necessary, the Literature Department isn’t training writers, yet admissions makes you write this and that, this isn’t right! Isn’t it?”

The three looked at each other – the teacher was criticizing the school’s admission mechanism, should they join in?

Better not.

Master Tan’s style differed somewhat from imagination, his rhythm was also quite unpredictable.

So this first meeting was Master Tan’s one-way output, them just listening, many words still unclear.

Towards the end, the old gentleman, having vented to satisfaction, turned to ask about the three’s situations.

Just asking where they were from, why they chose this major, whether they liked Classical Chinese, and such.

Sheng Xia heard both male classmates answer smoothly and prepared her draft, but unexpectedly when it came to her, the question became: “Young lady, have you thought about continuing to graduate school in Classical Chinese?”

Wasn’t it too early to ask this just starting freshman year?

Sheng Xia’s prepared answers were all overthrown, she just nodded following her heart: “I have.”

Compared to the long discussions before, her answer seemed thin, so Sheng Xia added: “When the senior year was most intense, deciding to write a book to apply to River Clear, I thought about it then.”

Master Tan just pursed his lips, showing no particular attitude, “This major is different, the path here, the path forward, think it through clearly, how to study, understand from the very beginning, don’t idle, don’t waste time.”

Coming out of the teacher’s apartment, one male student spoke first: “Sheng Xia, seems Master Tan thinks highly of you, and wants you as his graduate student?”

Sheng Xia was flustered: “Probably not.”

How could such an esteemed professor lack graduate students? Sheng Xia was self-aware.

Professor Tan hadn’t asked her the same questions as them because she had already expressed her love for Classical Chinese in her book’s afterword, no need to ask again.

The male student smiled: “No need to be modest, no one else here, I’ve just transferred in, probably just getting by before changing departments. Heard you got in through the strengthened foundation program, that’s amazing.”

The other male student asked: “Sheng Xia, can we buy your work in bookstores outside? What’s it called? I’d like to read it.”

The word “read” was almost overused, with a hint of excessive flattery, but he probably meant no harm.

Sheng Xia: “My scores weren’t enough, had to find another path, it’s not much of a work.”

“What’s it called?”

“Not many copies printed, few stores stock it, hard to buy.”

“Is that so? This publisher isn’t good, you’re both beautiful and talented, such good marketing potential!”

“…”

The three waited by the road for the campus bus to return together.

Sheng Xia was lost in thought.

Right now, she wanted to see Zhang Shu, very very much.

Wanted to tell him the teacher’s words exactly as spoken, wanted to hear his thoughts, which definitely wouldn’t be the worship of her work.

She checked the time, planning to go straight out the gate and take a taxi to Sea Peaceful.

Just as she was about to speak, she heard the male student suggest: “Let’s create a small group chat?”

The other had no objection, already taking out his phone.

Sheng Xia didn’t hesitate either, that student first scanned her code to add a friend, quickly created the group, and changed nicknames.

Sheng Xia was copying group nicknames to notes when she heard them talking.

“Why’s that guy across the road keep staring at us?”

“Looking at Sheng Xia probably?”

“Haha, eyeing predatorily everywhere?”

“I think the opening ceremony etiquette team’s standard isn’t as high as our department, which makes me not want to transfer any more.”

“Why transfer, the Literature Department is great, as long as you’re in good spirits, you’re the department heartthrob!”

About the gender ratio issue, male Literature students often joked about themselves. Sheng Xia didn’t pay much attention, putting down her phone preparing to say goodbye, just raised her head and glimpsed the straight figure opposite.

Zhang Shu had stopped his bike by the road, hand still on the handlebar, long leg propped on the ground, looking like he’d just stopped and might leave anytime, head turned this way.

His gaze is sharp like an eagle.

His posture hunched over the mountain bike looked like one too.

Willow branches swayed above his head, but Zhang Shu hadn’t absorbed any of the willow’s gentleness, even motionless his presence was intimidating.

Sheng Xia inexplicably panicked, almost dropping her phone.

Beside her, the male student asked: “Hey, Sheng Xia, want to go straight to the cafeteria? Have dinner together?”

Sheng Xia came back to herself, and said softly: “Not now, my boyfriend’s here.”

Those four words “my boyfriend” coming from Sheng Xia’s mouth always seemed particularly gentle and romantic. The two male students were stunned.

After dropping this bombshell, Sheng Xia avoided passing bicycles and ran to Zhang Shu, face full of smiles: “Why are you here?”

He often came over, but this didn’t surprise her, she was just surprised to run into him here.

Moreover, right when she wanted to see him.

He was like descended from heaven.

Zhang Shu watched her delighted and excited expression, his aggressive aura diminishing slightly, though his words weren’t so gentle: “Is River Clear going into lockdown that I can’t come? If I don’t come you can cozy up to others? Adding everyone’s WeChat who asks?”

What cozying up, such extreme slander!

Sheng Xia’s fantasy of him “descending from heaven” instantly shattered, she wanted to laugh but decided to smooth the lion’s mane: “They’re my classmates, our major only has three people, we went to see our advisor together.”

Zhang Shu’s eyes flashed a hint of embarrassment, just for a moment, then “oh” -ed, glancing faintly at the two male students. The campus bus came, and the two got on, their gazes still lingering this way. Zhang Shu withdrew his gaze, and asked: “Doesn’t your department only have a dozen or so male students?”

And your major has two of them?

“Mm.”

Zhang Shu: “They sure know how to choose.”

Sheng Xia: … His tone was so strange.

Zhang Shu scratched her chin: “Why get so close to adding WeChat?”

Close? Sheng Xia carefully recalled.

Zhang Shu took out his phone, pulled up the QR code, and nodded indicating for her to step back, “Try it, two meters apart, scan mine.”

Sheng Xia held back laughter, obediently raised her phone, stepped back two steps, and opened the camera, recording.

On-screen, Zhang Shu’s handsome face seriously babbled: “Can’t scan? Okay, come closer then, one meter… no response? Do you have no internet? Maximum 60 centimeters can’t be closer, if it still doesn’t work you need to change your phone…”

“Pfft” Sheng Xia couldn’t hold back anymore, her small face peeking out from behind the phone, eyes smiling, “Indeed can’t be too close, too close the sourness wafts… mmph!?”

Wafts… wafts to the nose…

Sheng Xia was pulled to his side and kissed.

What wafted to her nose was his clean crisp scent.

Clean and fresh, like herbs baking under intense sun, she’d only smelled it on him.

He didn’t hold her waist or press her head like usual, the hand that pulled her loosely held hers, his other hand naturally steadied the bike handlebar, still straddling the bicycle, posture relaxed, head tilted up pecking kisses.

Except for the initial sealing of her lips which was particularly heavy, after that he just kissed one after another, from the corner of her mouth to her lips, even her chin, kissing wherever, aimlessly, like teasing, yet very skillful, each kiss’s depth and sensation different.

Sheng Xia could pull away anytime, but one kiss after another was harder to dodge than a deep kiss.

She didn’t want to dodge either.

Another campus bus was huffing and puffing its way over, he stopped his actions, as if nothing had happened, mouth curved, gaze fixed on her face, angle slightly looking up.

After the bus passed, he tilted his head and showered her with kisses again.

She secretly opened her eyes and saw his smiling mouth.

The sound of pecking kisses made her whole body hot, how was this more embarrassing than deep kisses?

The sunset lowered, evening breeze stirred willow branches.

Occasionally bicycles passed by, and Sheng Xia’s heart trembled.

The kissing had gone on a bit long.

She suddenly opened her mouth and bit him, then let go, scolding: “Enough!”

Zhang Shu’s eyebrows raised slightly, nodded, with a satisfied expression, “What were you doing just now, filming me, getting naughty?”

Did he notice?

Sheng Xia just remembered this matter and glanced at her phone.

It was still recording?

Zhang Shu took her phone, pressed stop recording, and watched the playback, smiling meaningfully: “What’s this, love documentary?”

Sheng Xia’s face reddened: “No!”

He acted like he hadn’t heard the denial, continuing: “How about accumulating some material for you tomorrow?”

Sheng Xia: …?

Zhang Shu looked her up and down.

She was looking him over too.

His military training haircut had grown a bit, when she touched it wasn’t so prickly anymore, though just a few days, the youth’s hair had softened somewhat, the feel just right.

Who said crew cuts were the only standard for judging handsome men?

Zhang Shu without bangs, forehead, and brows fully visible, was so handsome she couldn’t look away.

Bad, staring at him in a daze again.

Zhang Shu caught her mischievous hand, naturally kissed the back of it, held it, and squeezed, looking up to ask: “Can you go on a date with me?”

She was silent.

Zhang Shu lowered his voice: “This time, Zhang Shu won’t make Sheng Xia wait, never will again, okay?”