At Z University Medical School’s sophomore year, Wednesday mornings typically featured four consecutive Medical Principles classes. The course was taught by Professor Li, the strictest instructor in the department. Though female, her medical expertise was so profound that the entire department respectfully addressed her as “Sir.”

Of course, using this term in daily conversation carried some humor, but these young students receiving modern education somehow dared only use “Sir” when addressing Ms. Li.

She’d taken a shine to a few students, most of whom became counted among the industry’s elite physicians. There was one who hadn’t graduated yet – Z University’s acknowledged genius, Gu Feibai.

She said Gu Feibai was fully capable of completing the seven-year program at age twenty. However, when Gu Feibai prepared to apply for early graduation last year, he stayed for some unknown reason.

The Medical School was as skilled with gossip as with their hands, discussing it at length until everyone meaningfully directed their gazes toward Ah Heng.

They were eighty percent sure the little miss was being petty, afraid her young and handsome fiancé would be devoured whole by the hospital’s wolf-women, trying to delay it day by day.

After all, there were plenty of shabby Titanics wanting to crash into that luxurious iceberg.

Professor Li knew about this and had some criticism for her star pupil. She observed Ah Heng in class for a long time, finding her an utterly ordinary child, growing more disappointed. Still, for Gu Feibai’s sake, she maintained the intention to mentor Ah Heng, demanding much from her.

Yet Ah Heng was the type who thrived naturally – forcing growth only created excessive pressure.

During an impromptu class question, Ah Heng failed to answer again.

Professor Li didn’t rebuke her, only calling her to the office with a slight sigh: “Feibai often tells me that when you were younger, your knowledge of pharmacology was so thorough even he wanted to compete with you. But your various performances today make me feel that ‘Injury to Rong’er’ isn’t just a cautionary tale. Must clever young girls grow up to become dead-eyed fish?”

Ah Heng’s lips turned bitter, but she forced a smile, eyes bright: “Sir, I need to use the bathroom urgently.”

“Fine, go ahead. In the future, I won’t trouble you in class anymore.” Professor Li sighed deeply, her expression dark, waving her away.

Ah Heng’s chest felt heavy, hiding something, yet she smiled even more gently when seeing others.

Back in the dorm, she silently pulled out a leather suitcase from under her bed, then walked to the bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the toilet for a long while.

When she came out, she was still smiling sweetly.

The second Sister in the dorm was critical, looking at her suitcase, speaking sarcastically: “What are you hiding in there, being so secretive for over a year now?”

Little Third also loved excitement: “Yeah, Little Six, what is it? Let big sisters take a look.”

Ah Heng smiled: “Things from my first job.”

The usually quiet Fourth lifted her head from her book, quite interested: “What things?”

Ah Heng crouched down, putting the suitcase back, speaking faintly: “Nothing much, a train ticket, an outfit, and… a wooden carving.”

Fifth swung her legs on the bed: “What a strange combination. Ticket, clothes, carving – not something your rigid thinking could come up with.”

Big Sister Wuying laughed: “What was Ah Heng’s first job?”

Ah Heng leaned against the cold wall, her eyes and brows lifting in a slight smile: “You know how at some funeral halls when the filial children can’t cry, they hire people to wear mourning clothes and shed tears? Fifty yuan per hour of crying is quite expensive.”

“Are there that many tears?” they wondered.

Ah Heng said: “So, after crying till I was sick of it, probably only smiles are left in this life.”

She had knelt before a stranger’s father’s spirit tablet, crying heart-rendingly. When they lifted the coffin, she still desperately held on, refusing to let them carry it. That family’s son and grandson awkwardly pulled at her: “Too much, hey, too much.”

She let go, all ten fingers with crimson in their nail beds. Her eyes were swollen to slits, vaguely looking like red lacquer.

When buying the train ticket, the seller took the money and startled: “Child, did you kill someone?”

She was bewildered, and rubbed her fingers, only then discovering they were covered in blood marks. Then, holding her only suitcase, looking at the bustling crowd, she spoke in a trembling, humble voice.

“Auntie, give me a train ticket, please,” she said.

It had to be the last time begging anyone.

Because having lost that thing called dignity, there were no other choices.

So, who still remembered if there was such a handsome youth, if there was an attempt to enter his heart?

That romance, after all, never touched life’s bottom line.

She had thought fate let them trace each other’s palm lines. But reality proved that it wasn’t that our palm lines were too shallow, rather, fate wasn’t powerful enough.

That day, the sunlight was choking, and the train station was completely different from three years ago.

She fled hurriedly.

The planner said our Young Master Lan said to shoot the sensual photos last.

Then, after translation, even Master Hanashima fell silent.

It proved that those with money were the bosses or big shots.

Many people harbored resentment toward the wealthy, daily wondering why the Lan family’s young master hadn’t choked while eating, drowned while drinking, or crashed while driving.

So, except for this story’s faithful BG supporters, Young Master Lan still had enemies by the handful.

But our Yan Xi was different. The reason he could parade around the world under the DJ Yan banner without anyone investigating his ancestors was mainly because although his father and grandfather weren’t as high-profile as him, the so-called Yan faction still had plenty of people eagerly throwing money at newspapers and radio stations.

Damn, what a scandal.

A young master spending his days on the radio persuading people not to commit suicide, not to divorce, drink two cups of honey water daily to avoid constipation – what kind of effect was that?

So, he could afford to lose face, but did the Yan faction still want any dignity?

Guard Li called to warn Young Master Yan, and Young Master Yan said: “How about this – if you want me to stop embarrassing everyone, give me fifty million for my own business. Then when I have money and women, become successful and famous, I’ll go compete with that Lan Liu kid. Guarantee I won’t shame the Yan family, how’s that?”

Guard Li felt distressed, covered the phone, and turned around: “Commander Yan, look how our child has been humiliated, openly envying the Lan family.”

Old Yan said: “I’m an honest official, with power but no money.”

Yan Xi was embarrassed.

Hanging up the public phone, Yan Xi turned back, and patted Chen Wan’s shoulder saying: “I’ll return your coins tomorrow.”

Just his luck, his phone was dead today.

Chen Wan smiled beside him, looking at him, features increasingly elegant, speaking softly: “Young Master Yan trusts me so much, aren’t you afraid I’ll expose your identity to the media?”

Yan Xi said: “Would you?”

Chen Wan shook his head: “Of course not.”

Yan Xi smiled ambiguously: “Such a good child, seems all good children look the same.”

Chen Wan said: “Do you think I’m very rigid?”

Yan Xi walked forward, shoulders hunched, looking skinny and frail.

“Not at all, I love good children the most, love everyone I see, no demands no opinions, believe whatever they’re told, so obedient.”

Chen Wan paused, then gently changed the subject: “Don’t feed Little Hui too many bones, it really can get indigestion.”

Yan Xi walked to the wine-red Ferrari in the outdoor parking lot, handed him the dog basket from inside, and smiled broadly.

“Here, good child, I’m leaving it with you to raise. We’re working together on the show for three months, right? Return it to me after three months.”

Chen Wan was stunned.

“You trust me this much?”

Yan Xi laughed wryly: “Do I have any reason not to?”

Then, opening the car door, he pulled off his blue suit, threw it in the back seat, stepped on the gas, turned the steering wheel, played noisy rock music, tapped his slender fingers, and disappeared into a cloud of dust.

See you tomorrow.

Little Hui cried an ocean of tears.

Damn it, sold just like that, a motherless child is just grass, and dog-tail grass at that!

At the Lan Corporation’s autumn fashion show, when beautiful anchor Chu Yun was sent by the station to grab news, she saw Yan Xi and covered her mouth, giggling.

Yan Xi wore a suit but, during a break, very inelegantly squatted on the T-stage, big eyes looking down at the woman below.

“Hey, Chu Yun, what are you laughing at?”

She said: “Yan Xi, lucky I know what you’re usually like, otherwise I’d want to steal your home.”

Yan Xi: “Get out of here, you can’t even cook, want to steal me home to starve me?”

Chu Yun and Yan Xi met while doing an interview program. Chu Yun had politely complimented Yan Xi then, saying: “It’s unexpected, DJ Yan looks like a beautiful youth Photoshopped to perfection.”

Yan Xi raised an eyebrow and said: “Anchor Chu likes joking, could you Photoshop someone as handsome as me?”

With one sentence, Chu Yun ground her teeth, but their appearances matched well, and they often hosted programs together. Gradually they became familiar, counting as friends who could chat.

Some days ago, when Yan Xi went to Chu Yun’s home to get a script and rehearse lines, paparazzi secretly photographed them, making headlines.

“Young man suspected to be DJ Yan entering and leaving Chu Yun’s boudoir, five-hour stakeout!”

A beautiful female anchor, a newly prominent DJ.

Both were at the height of their popularity, unrivaled in fame.

Inevitably, supporters of both sides fought and cursed, creating a bloodbath online.

Yan Xi twitched while explaining on the radio, Chu Yun and I are just friends.

Chu Yun smiled while explaining her program, Yan Xi and I are just good friends.

Because their testimonies didn’t match, another wave of speculation surged online. Finally, it was Yan Xi taking the Lan Corporation case that diverted public attention.

Now, as the two chatted, nearby reporters all pricked up their ears.

Unfortunately, Lan Liu walked over, smiling faintly at Chu Yun: “Miss Chu is an honored guest, please do offer your opinions.”

Chu Yun smiled: “I wouldn’t dare, Lan Corporation’s shows are always perfect, and today with DJ Yan’s support, it’s even more impressive.”

Lan Liu reached out, pulled Yan Xi up, and patted his shoulder, movements natural and familiar: “DJ Yan is indeed excellent, but our main promotion this time isn’t him, but rather the supporting model Chen Wan.”

Then, he smiled slightly, speaking calmly: “DJ Yan is too proud, usually unwilling to help newcomers. This time I spent a lot of effort to convince him to mentor Chen Wan.”

Chen Wan stood not far away, features pure, gaze gentle, every bit the image of a tender beautiful youth.

Below the stage, the reporters erupted in commotion.