Lin Zhixia frowned, “No, clothes shouldn’t be tossed around carelessly. They should be hung on hangers.”

Jiang Yubai picked up Lin Zhixia’s down jacket and casually opened a closet door. He walked into the closet.

Lin Zhixia curiously followed him and saw the legendary “walk-in closet”—a closet larger than her dormitory room.

Directly in front of her was a floor-to-ceiling window with dark gray silk curtains gathered on both sides. The walls to her left and right were embedded with pure wooden cabinets containing various clothes, shoes, and hats, covered with a layer of thick, sturdy glass.

A round sofa sat in the center of the room. Lin Zhixia sat on it and found a remote control. She politely asked, “Jiang Yubai, may I play with your remote control?”

Jiang Yubai responded, “Of course, play with it however you like.”

He took out a hanger, hung up the down jacket, buttoned it, and then placed it in the closet.

Lin Zhixia’s clothing was temporarily stored in his cabinet—thinking about this, Jiang Yubai was distracted for a moment. He wanted to say something to Lin Zhixia, but couldn’t express his true feelings too explicitly. He always conveyed his emotions subtly—a process that was long and agonizing, but he enjoyed it willingly, expecting nothing in return.

Outside the window, the floating clouds dispersed, and the sky gradually brightened.

The cool breeze lifted the gray curtains, and oval-shaped patches of light rolled across the floor. Lin Zhixia chased the light patches with interest. She also pressed the remote control in her hand, and a display stand behind the glass began to rotate slowly, showcasing rows of sunglasses and watches. She exclaimed in amazement, “How fascinating.” Then she said, “Jiang Yubai, I’ve never seen you wearing sunglasses before. I want to see.”

Jiang Yubai stood beside her: “Help me choose one.”

Lin Zhixia casually picked up a pair of sunglasses.

Jiang Yubai was 186 cm tall, 20 cm taller than Lin Zhixia. But he bent down in front of her. She carefully placed the sunglasses’ temples over his ears. The soft pads of her fingers gently brushed his earlobe. The lenses blocked his unguarded gaze, but her hands felt both itchy and numb, suspended in mid-air as if petrified.

At this moment, he still smiled at her.

His smile was silent, like spring rain nourishing everything without a sound. Her heart was cultivated into fertile soil, and the subtle ambiguity in the air grew wildly.

Jiang Yubai sensed the inappropriate atmosphere, too.

In the enclosed space, he even wanted to raise his hand and hold her waist—he had been this intimate with her at their high school graduation dance, and both his palm and brain remembered it vividly. But she trusted and relied on him one hundred percent; he shouldn’t get too close to her under the pretext of friendship.

The more he liked her, the more he restrained himself; the more infatuated he became, the more rational he stayed—this self-contradictory path was a dead end of his own making.

He watched her silently and attentively.

Lin Zhixia’s situation was no more optimistic than his. She was unusually at a loss for words, then suddenly remembered her original purpose: “Where are your undergraduate photos? I came to see the photos.”

She stepped back twice and ran out of the walk-in closet.

*

In the southeast corner of the bedroom stood a desk with both a desktop and a laptop computer. Jiang Yubai opened the laptop, entered the password while Lin Zhixia wandered behind him.

She noticed a beautifully bound archive box on the bookshelf with a flame-red strawberry on the cover. Inexplicably drawn to it, she grabbed the box and discovered it contained several printed manuscripts—her manuscripts that had been published online.

Belatedly, she looked up and observed the bedroom furnishings again.

There were only two paintings in the room: one of a summer forest and another of the vast starry sky. She didn’t know if this was a coincidence or Jiang Yubai’s intentional design.

She wanted to ask him directly: Do you like me?

Jiang Yubai suddenly called her name: “Lin Zhixia, come over here.”

Lin Zhixia noticed that nowadays Jiang Yubai didn’t call her “Xia Xia,” nor did he say “Lin Lin Lin Zhixia,” and he hadn’t mentioned “Captain Lin Zhixia” either. It had been almost half a year since he last referred to himself as her “best friend.”

Troubled by her various guesses and hesitations, she said somewhat defiantly: “I’m not coming over.”

Jiang Yubai asked with great patience: “Don’t you want to see the photos?”

Lin Zhixia hesitated for several seconds but eventually ran to him. She stood beside him, her right index finger pressing the keyboard, flipping through photo after photo. She quickly became happy and exclaimed, “This one is so beautiful, the composition is very artistic.”

Jiang Yubai seemed to have prepared the photos especially for her. He took photos on his way to class, while sitting at his desk doing homework… After viewing them for a few minutes, Lin Zhixia could imagine his daily life.

She said, “Even if you’re far away from me, I haven’t been separated from you.”

He asked in return: “Do you still remember the binary stars?”

“Of course,” Lin Zhixia repeated her words from years ago, “different orbits, same center.”

After these words, the room became even quieter.

Lin Zhixia then said, “I feel like I’m growing up with you. No one understands me better than you do.”

Jiang Yubai guided her indirectly: “People change with more experiences, but our orbits can’t change…”

“I understand,” Lin Zhixia nodded, “I’ll frequently share my life experiences with you, and you should share yours with me too.”

Whenever Lin Zhixia finished writing a diary or essay, she would give the notebook to Jiang Yubai. She knew he would keep it safe, but she didn’t know how often he would reread it. The communication between them gradually fostered a spiritual resonance, like an eternal and stable binary star system. From the moment they met, she no longer felt lonely.

Jiang Yubai was in a good mood too. His tone became light, as if imitating her speech: “Alright, alright.”

Lin Zhixia rested her hand on his shoulder: “Is it fun to imitate me?”

He smiled: “If it wasn’t fun, I wouldn’t do it.”

Lin Zhixia moved to his other side and changed the subject: “Next year we’ll be attending school together. You’ll be an undergraduate, and I’ll be a PhD student. Please call me Dr. Lin.”

Jiang Yubai accepted all her settings: “Dr. Lin.”

Lin Zhixia said happily, “We’ll be in the same college, so we can participate in college activities together. I’ll also apply to be a teaching assistant. It would be even better if I could teach you.”

“You want to be my teacher so badly?” Jiang Yubai asked her.

“Yes,” Lin Zhixia admitted frankly, “Being your teacher would be interesting. If it wasn’t interesting, I wouldn’t do it.”

Jiang Yubai closed his laptop: “The sophomore courses are very difficult. I’m looking forward to you teaching me.”

Lin Zhixia excitedly tapped the desk: “Wait for me for a year!” Then she added: “But when I go abroad next year, I’ll still be underage. According to regulations, I need to find a local guardian.”

Jiang Yubai immediately offered his help: “Can I help you find one? My father has many friends.”

“Alright, thank you,” Lin Zhixia agreed.

They chatted for a while longer, then Jiang Yubai turned on the TV, connected to the internet, and invited Lin Zhixia to play a level-clearing game with him.

Lin Zhixia had never played any major games before; she had only played Spider Solitaire and 3D Pinball on the computer. Jiang Yubai made a sincere request, and Lin Zhixia had no reason to refuse. She gripped the game controller, stared at the huge screen, and exclaimed: “So many ferocious monsters!”

This was a game called “Monster Castle.”

Jiang Yubai had personally designed “Monster Castle.”

There were only two characters in the game—the female player Xiao Lin and the male player Xiao Jiang.

The plot of “Monster Castle” was full of twists and turns. One of the most important moments was when Xiao Lin was pushed off a cliff by monsters, and Xiao Jiang had to use a rope to lasso her, heroically saving her and fighting alongside her.

Jiang Yubai designed this scene because he had considered the famous “suspension bridge effect”—this effect suggests that when a person encounters danger, they become very nervous and are more likely to develop feelings for someone who rescues them.

Jiang Yubai had calculated everything meticulously. Lin Zhixia had never played a major game before, nor had she handled a game controller. She would probably be nervous and uneasy, huddling next to him, saying things like “The monsters are so fierce, they scared me, Jiang Yubai, please save me.”

However, reality went against his expectations.

Lin Zhixia looked pure and beautiful, but her gameplay was fierce and ruthless. When encountering monsters, she killed without hesitation, reacting extremely quickly. The screen was littered with monster corpses, and she laughed heartily: “This is so fun! The monsters are so stupid, they make me laugh!”

Jiang Yubai’s hands stiffened momentarily.

He casually guided “Xiao Jiang” through a tropical rainforest. Suddenly, more than a hundred giant monsters sprang out from the dense bushes. “Xiao Jiang” was a beat too slow, and his gun was out of bullets. He had nowhere to escape and could only run forward.

Ahead of him was a cliff.

“Xiao Jiang” couldn’t stop in time and fell straight off the cliff.

Jiang Yubai almost threw his controller.

Lin Zhixia immediately comforted him: “Don’t be afraid, it’s alright, I’ll save you. I won’t let them bully you. I’ll avenge you.”

In a flash, she took out a rope from her backpack, flung it outward, and accurately lassoed “Xiao Jiang.” Meanwhile, her left hand was still operating a machine gun, spinning and shooting a group of monsters that pounced on her. Her movements were smooth and fluid without any stuttering. Not only did she rescue “Xiao Jiang,” but she also placed a loaded gun in his hand.

Jiang Yubai’s chest felt slightly warm.

The “suspension bridge effect” was verified in Jiang Yubai.

*

Lin Zhixia and Jiang Yubai stayed in the bedroom for several hours. At noon, they had lunch together in the dining room.

The table was laid with western delicacies such as honey-glazed ham, oyster soup, and pan-fried steak, but Lin Zhixia still wanted rice. The chef specially steamed Northeast rice for her. She mixed the oyster soup with rice and ate it with steak, ham, and broccoli, enjoying every bite.

“This is so delicious,” Lin Zhixia praised continuously.

Jiang Yubai said softly, “When you study for your PhD next year, you can come to my house for meals.”

“Will there be white rice every day?” Lin Zhixia asked him.

Jiang Yubai promised her: “You can order whatever dishes you want—shrimp dumplings, braised pork ribs, spicy hot pot… As long as you can name it, my family’s chef will make it.”

Lin Zhixia pondered for a moment before asking: “Will you charge me for meals? How much would it cost?”

Meal charges?

What man would accept meal charges from a woman he’s pursuing?

Jiang Yubai smiled mysteriously: “When employees work at a company, there’s a probation period. Come to my house for meals several times, and after the probation period, we can talk about money.”

Jiang Yubai’s words made sense, and Lin Zhixia agreed: “That works.”

She was already full after one bowl of rice.

Jiang Yubai took her for a short walk in the garden and gave her a cup with a strawberry pattern, saying it was his New Year’s gift for her. The cup wasn’t an expensive item, but Lin Zhixia happily accepted it and truly liked it. That afternoon, she returned to school contentedly, hugging the cup.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yubai wrote briefly in his private diary: One cup, one lifetime.

*

After the Christmas holiday ended, Jiang Yubai went abroad again.

He had made many friends, and his social circle was very extensive. Since his father was his school, he also used his father’s connections to meet several figures from the older generation. His grandfather had accumulated substantial capital in Southeast Asia, and he paid special attention to cultivating his network in Southeast Asia. Of course, there were many more things waiting for him to complete when he returned to China.

He did not plan to pursue a master’s degree.

After finishing his undergraduate studies, he would return to China directly.

As Jiang Yubai’s plans became clearer, Lin Zhixia was also methodically working on her graduation project. After more than two years of hard work, she had almost completed all her credits. As long as she performed normally in her graduation project, she would graduate smoothly.

Lin Zhixia had spent more than two years in the quantum laboratory, but her graduation project had nothing to do with quantum physics.

She was working on an artificial intelligence project that combined mathematics and computer science, focusing on “deep learning video classification algorithms.” She took a shortcut here. She had already written these algorithms earlier and had used them for the “Lin-Jiang” robot. She organized her previous work slightly, wrote a paper, and under her teacher’s guidance, improved the overall framework—she hadn’t expected it to become increasingly complex as she revised. In the two months before graduation, she became very busy again. By the time she finally submitted her thesis and completed her defense, it was June 2012.

Lin Zhixia’s three roommates and the senior students in the quantum laboratory weren’t psychologically prepared to send her off.

Among them, Deng Shasha’s reaction was the most intense.

Sitting in the dormitory, Deng Shasha was thunderstruck and dumbfounded: “Goddess Xia, what will I do when you’re gone? Take me with you.”

Yuan Wei suddenly remarked, “You should get into Cambridge first.”

Deng Shasha sniffled: “Cambridge isn’t the first choice for geniuses anyway. Geniuses usually go to Harvard, MIT, or Stanford.”

Lin Zhixia explained: “That advisor is quite suitable for me. During the summer of my freshman year, I visited their laboratory.”

Deng Shasha lay flat on the bed: “Goddess Xia, I’ll miss you. Before the final exams, I’ll miss you so much I’ll cry.”