When Yu Hao and Zhao Dailin walked out of the hall, they saw Lu Huaizheng with Lin Chang and others, gathered around a white Audi, smoking and chatting.

The yellowish streetlight enveloped his tall figure. He was leaning against the white car door, his form appearing exceptionally tall and clean, with his black suit hanging casually on the wrist of the hand tucked in his pocket. His habits hadn’t changed, just like how he used to hang his school uniform. He never liked wearing the school uniform, always hanging it on his wrist or shoulder. With an unlit cigarette between his lips, he lowered his head to borrow a light from Lin Chang across from him. Lin Chang cupped his lighter to light it for him, and they said something that made them both laugh.

He leaned back, finding a more comfortable position to rest against, the cigarette between his fingers flickering. Most of the time, his smile was warm, but when it came to certain R-rated topics, his smile carried a hint of flirtatiousness that was particularly alluring, just like now.

During Yu Hao’s sophomore year, there was a course on applied psychology. The professor said that if you haven’t seen someone for a long time and you miss them, you can predict what they might look like ten years later based on their past habits.

As the saying goes, you can tell a person’s character at three, their fate at seven, and by seventeen, their thinking pattern is essentially established.

Yu Hao had once tried to envision what Lu Huaizheng would be like at twenty-seven, based on his seventeen-year-old self—

She wrote down his former characteristics and habits on paper. He had an extreme preference for black and white colors. He enjoyed traveling and had been to many places. He once told her about a hundred secrets hidden in various corners of the world. Despite all her reading, Yu Hao had never heard of those bizarre stories and was always amazed whenever he shared such knowledge. He got along well with everyone, was nice to everyone, and was nicest to her. His thoughts were impure, full of crude jokes. He attracted women. He liked racing cars, pursuing speed and excitement.

So perhaps he would, during his travels, meet a woman who stirred his heart and then have a one-night stand.

After writing this, Yu Hao tore the paper to shreds and angrily threw it into the trash can.

She felt her skills were inadequate, letting down Professor Han, disgracing her teacher, and wasting years of studying psychology only to come up with such indecent conclusions.

The night was vast, the trees rustled in the wind, and the horizon seemed filled with black ink, thick and profound.

Zhao Dailin stood beside Yu Hao, looking at the group of men under the streetlight not far away, and sighed deeply, “Although you have a peculiar temperament, I sometimes envy you. You’re beautiful and intelligent, just not very high in emotional intelligence.”

Yu Hao gave her a suspicious look. “Envy me?”

Yu Hao truly didn’t think there was anything to envy about her. She was straightforward, not smooth-talking, wouldn’t beat around the bush with people, wasn’t sweet-talking, and was even less capable of flattery or boot-licking.

Last time at the departmental dinner, she nearly offended the dean with one sentence.

Yu Hao had just had a paper on applied psychology accepted by an international academic journal and had received an email from Professor Marcy Eddie, who said he had read her published paper, greatly admired and was surprised by it, and asked for her other published academic papers.

During dinner, the dean couldn’t help bringing this up, “Our Yu Hao is usually so quiet, but she’s done something great for our department!” Then he patted Professor Han’s shoulder beside him, “Old Han, stop keeping Yu Hao locked up in the lab all the time. Let her get out more. I heard she’s almost twenty-eight. Still no boyfriend? You’re not doing your job as a mentor.”

Professor Han smiled kindly and was about to speak when Yu Hao interrupted, “I like staying in the laboratory.”

The dean immediately felt this young woman was too uncooperative. If it had been one of the young women from the neighboring department, they would have happily agreed, asking the dean to help introduce a boyfriend, using the opportunity to build a closer relationship with him.

Zhao Dailin couldn’t help but kick her under the table. Yu Hao belatedly realized she had embarrassed the dean in front of so many people, but the words had already been said and couldn’t be taken back, so she simply didn’t dwell on it.

Professor Han quickly smoothed things over, “She’s still young, no rush.”

The dean thought, how is she young? She’s nearly thirty. He shook his head, feeling this girl was not likable.

To put it nicely, she was guileless; less kindly, she had low emotional intelligence.

People say psychology students have high EQ and know how to deal with people, but Yu Hao was the exception who didn’t cooperate with anything.

Zhao Dailin took out a cigarette, and put it between her lips, but couldn’t find her lighter after searching all over. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and turned to look at Yu Hao, “Everyone in our psychology department is so shrewd, how did we end up with someone as odd as you? Don’t they say psychology students have high emotional intelligence?”

“They also say that psychology students all have psychological disorders. Have you ever had one?” Yu Hao replied self-righteously. “Your logic is flawed, it’s like saying medical students never get sick. You shouldn’t view people with such prejudice.”

Besides, Yu Hao specialized in lie detection, which required directness, not beating around the bush.

Zhao Dailin finally found her lighter, lit her cigarette, and took a drag: “Stop quibbling with me. I’m asking you, aren’t you going to go say hello?” As she finished, her eyes darted meaningfully in a certain direction.

The men over there seemed to be finishing their conversation, ready to leave.

Zhao Dailin gave her arm a final push: “Seize the opportunity! Once this chance is gone, it’s gone for good.”

But Yu Hao suddenly extended her hand toward her.

Zhao Dailin was taken aback, “What?”

“Cigarette.”

Zhao Dailin took out a cigarette from her pack and handed it over, muttering: “Do you even know how to smoke?”

Yu Hao glanced at her, skillfully put it between her lips, then bent down to light it, inhaling to make it burn. Her lips were shapely with clear lines; the slender cigarette held in her mouth contrasted with her clear, transparent eyes.

Zhao Dailin recalled a saying— A woman’s beauty lies in her skin at the lowest level, in her spirit at the middle level, and in her demeanor at the highest level. She thought Yu Hao was currently at the middle level.

Yu Hao’s smoking history might be even longer than Zhao Dailin’s.

She had been smoking since high school, but had quit in recent years and rarely touched cigarettes now. She usually didn’t crave them, and when she occasionally did, she would suck on a piece of candy while browsing through academic papers, and time passed quickly. People say quitting smoking is difficult, but she found it quite easy.

After finishing one cigarette, Yu Hao’s mind cleared, and she turned to start the car.

Zhao Dailin let out an “Ah!” and hurriedly followed: “You’re not going over?!”

…

After missing the chance to reconnect that night, Yu Hao hadn’t expected to see Lu Huaizheng again in the military district.

Two weeks later, there was a lecture on psychological counseling at the Air Force Base. Yu Hao was responsible for Professor Han’s speech notes and managing the PowerPoint presentation, so she sat next to Professor Han, the main speaker, looking out at the sea of heads in the audience, and immediately spotted him.

He was sitting in the first row next to a square-faced middle-aged man, wearing a neat military uniform with buttons meticulously fastened from bottom to top, the collar just below his Adam’s apple. He sat upright, completely different from his relaxed demeanor at the wedding banquet days ago. Yu Hao remembered how he looked playing basketball many years ago, not caring much about anything, though he played basketball quite seriously.

She once joked with him, asking when he would be as dedicated to his studies, saying he could get into Tsinghua or Peking University.

They were at the basketball court then, and he demonstrated a beautiful and clean layup for her, smiled as he got the ball back, and said: “What’s the big deal about Tsinghua or Peking University? What’s the point of getting in? Learning never ends, understand? Why, do you want to go to Tsinghua or Peking?”

“Why are you asking this?”

He stood outside the free-throw line, raised his hand, squinted slightly, his body lightly jumping off the ground a short distance, aiming while casually telling her: “Which city’s university do you want to attend? Tell me in advance.”

“Why should I tell you?”

He held his breath, threw the ball, landed lightly, watched the ball slam firmly into the basket, spin a few more times, and land. Then he used his dirty hand that had been dribbling the ball to lightly pat the back of her head, his eyes full of “Are you stupid?”: “So I can scout ahead and see if there are any universities nearby that I could get into.”

Yu Hao didn’t respond to him at the time, but those words had frequently appeared in her mind over the years.

Mrs. Feng wasn’t wrong—twenty-eight is indeed a threshold for women, and this threshold was truly difficult for her to cross.

Lu Huaizheng focused on Professor Han’s speech the entire time. The middle-aged man beside him would occasionally whisper in his ear, and he would slightly lower his head to listen, with a respectful and attentive expression. Occasionally, his gaze would drift to her, and Yu Hao didn’t shy away, meeting his eyes, though he would quickly look away, only to unconsciously glance back a few minutes later.

After this happened several times, Yu Hao began to feel uneasy.

In psychology, they say if someone frequently stares at you, don’t overthink it—maybe you just didn’t wash your face properly that morning.

Yu Hao’s thoughts at that moment couldn’t have been more complicated— Could her eyeliner be crooked? Or did she have a piece of vegetable stuck in her front teeth? But she hadn’t spoken, and she didn’t have buck teeth. She wanted to take out a mirror and check. But there were so many eyes watching. If she stood up now to go to the bathroom, who would manage Professor Han’s PowerPoint?

While Yu Hao was still debating whether to muster the courage to say something to Professor Han, Lu Huaizheng’s gaze slid over to her again.

Yu Hao instinctively raised her hand to touch her face.

As a result, he first kept a straight face and looked away, then a few seconds later lowered his head, and then, Yu Hao noticed his shoulders shaking twice. Finally, she realized he was holding back laughter, so much so that his shoulders were trembling.

That expression was exactly the smug look he used to have after successfully teasing someone.

The middle-aged man next to him glanced over, “Be serious.” His voice wasn’t stern, but rather gentle.

Only then did Lu Huaizheng suppress his smile, pretending to cough lightly, and then no longer looked at her, seriously beginning to listen to Professor Han’s lecture.

Yu Hao tilted the laptop on the table upward a bit more, completely blocking that annoying face, and wouldn’t stop until not even a strand of hair could be seen.