Chapter 2

At last, the two of them slipped into the classroom just in time.

During that practical session, Zhong Yin made verbal slips twice — something that had never happened to her before.

Fortunately, the instructor was young and open-minded, and bore her no ill will. After class, she even patted Zhong Yin on the shoulder and said gently, "I've heard the rumors too. Go home and let it all settle. Don't bring your emotions into the classroom."

Zhong Yin smiled ruefully and nodded, but said nothing about how she had long since put all that behind her. It wasn't that she was particularly optimistic or forgetful — it was simply that the best way to forget one trouble was to have a steady, unrelenting supply of new ones.

Throughout the entire class, she had been sunk in the sullen frustration of having argued so poorly. She had barely thought of Lin Yinian at all. Only that one phrase — "then keep thinking about it" — lingered, spinning endlessly in her mind like a massive outdoor speaker blasting square-dancing music, rotating three hundred and sixty degrees without pause.

That evening, Zhong Yin sat at her dormitory desk, switched on the lamp, and began copying out a self-criticism she had cobbled together from various sources.

*In matters of personal sentiment, I have failed to hold myself to strict standards at all times, and have not cultivated a proper manner of conducting myself in relation to others — you miserable wretch, someone stole your delivery order, the instant noodles had no seasoning packet—*

It was only when the ink bled into the paper and pooled into a dark blot that she snapped back to reality. She read what she had written, let out a strangled cry, tore the page out, and hurled it into the wastebasket.

"Again? That's the third sheet you've ruined." Guo Tao, her face mask still on, shuffled over behind Zhong Yin and made a slow, sympathetic clicking sound with her tongue.

Zhong Yin propped her chin in her hands, heaved a sigh, and resumed copying with the air of someone who had lost all will to live.

"Want me to tell you some gossip? Fresh off the press."

Zhong Yin shook her head, thoroughly disinterested.

"Really? Not even if it's about a certain masked gentleman?"

*Clack.*

Zhong Yin set down her pen and turned to look at Guo Tao with a slow, meaningful gaze. "Tell me."

Guo Tao perked up immediately, dragged a chair over, and planted herself beside Zhong Yin. "That handsome guy in blue today — you must remember him. Vice-president of the Student Union, from the Department of Computer Science and Information Technology. Lin Yinian. He even gave a speech at the opening ceremony."

Zhong Yin lowered her eyes and gave a soft hum.

"I just did a little digging. Apparently that department is like a monastery — all men — but last year it produced two notorious heartthrobs, collectively known as the 'Twin Thorns of CSIT.' One of them is Lin Yinian, and the other—" Guo Tao blinked and deliberately drew out the suspense.

"It couldn't be him, could it?"

"Bingo."

"According to the forum, the other one is called Yi Chen — *chen* as in *warmth and devotion* — same year as Lin Yinian, and apparently his roommate. And did you catch it? Today Lin Yinian called him A-Chen. That all but confirms it."

"Yi... Chen?" Zhong Yin murmured the name.

"What are you smiling about?"

"My family just happens to have a little dog at home. I'm thinking of naming it Chen-Chen. How does that sound?" Zhong Yin said, already reaching to send a message to her mother.

"Pfft—" Guo Tao burst out laughing and poked Zhong Yin's cheek. "No way. He actually managed to get you this worked up?"

Zhong Yin typed away furiously. "What do you expect? It's the first time I've ever met someone with such appalling manners."

Guo Tao nudged her shoulder conspiratorially. "Hey, you asked him for his contact twice today. Don't tell me you've actually taken a liking to him?"

"Absolutely not!" Zhong Yin denied it flatly. "I did bump into his laptop, after all. I was simply being polite."

Then, with a guilty twinge, she added once more: "Truly."

Guo Tao gave her a skeptical look, then offered some comfort. "Well, you don't need to dwell on it. From what I've heard, Yi Chen is just that kind of person — universally unlikeable. Last year there were countless girls chasing after him, and every single one got turned away cold."

"Apparently there was even a girl from the Fine Arts Academy who pursued him for three months straight, then turned her heartbreak into fury and posted a thousand-word rant on the forum tearing him apart."

The currently-tearing-herself-apart Zhong Yin: "..."

"And—" Guo Tao's tone turned suggestive. "The divination says he's your destined one. Your fate with him isn't finished yet."

That was the sort of thing Zhong Yin could not bear to hear even for a moment. She waved her hands frantically. "Please, no, no — are you sure your readings are even accurate?"

Guo Tao was immediately offended. She snatched up her luopan compass with indignation. "You dare question me? Northwest position, the second quarter of the shen hour — everything aligned perfectly!"

"But what if," Zhong Yin picked up her pen again, swept her hair forward to conceal the faint blush creeping up to the tips of her ears, and murmured softly, "what if it was just slightly off?"

Could her destined person not be Lin Yinian instead...

Close to ten o'clock, the other two roommates returned under cover of night, and the hollow dormitory filled with life all at once.

Because each department had an uneven number of students that couldn't be evenly distributed, the four of them — the leftover ones — had been assembled into a single room.

Zhong Yin and Guo Tao were both majoring in broadcasting and presenting. The other two came from computer science and music, respectively.

Computer science had a heavy workload, and first-year students were required to attend evening study sessions.

The moment she walked in, Shi An'an dropped her laptop bag, lowered her round little body onto the custom reclining cushion she had made herself, and wailed while tearing open a snack: "God help me, I'm going to call the police and have whoever scheduled these evening sessions arrested!"

Behind her came Zheng Baoni, who had blue-green highlights in her mullet cut and a guitar on her back.

That's right — the tallest, most commanding presence in their dormitory, their reigning queen, was named Zheng Baoni. At the moment, she was snatching snacks from Shi An'an and pouring them into her own mouth while simultaneously giving Zhong Yin and Guo Tao each a brazen pat on the cheek, letting out a roguish whistle. "These two little faces are so smooth."

"Leave some for me!!!" Shi An'an shrieked.

"Any left?" Zheng Baoni turned and continued ransacking Shi An'an's snack stash. The latter hopped and flailed desperately but couldn't get them back, and stamped her feet in fury.

Zhong Yin laughed so hard she could barely stand straight, and all the gloom of the day dissolved completely.

Once the chaos died down, Shi An'an curled up pitifully clutching the few remaining snacks, while Zheng Baoni lounged contentedly with her legs crossed, scrolling through her phone.

Apparently, Zheng Baoni — who had been busy with the band all day — was only now catching up on the forum posts, and she swore out loud: "What is wrong with Yan Hao? Brigading the forum? Does he think he's that good-looking? Is this something a carbon-based life form could actually come up with?"

Guo Tao rolled her eyes too. "Jiang Kun is just as bad. She hasn't even secured her position and she's already acting like she owns the place. What business is it of hers? And our poor Yin Yin is the one who suffers."

The two of them traded complaints back and forth until the usually quiet Shi An'an swallowed her last chip and suddenly asked: "Yin Yin, has Yan Hao contacted you again?"

Zhong Yin, who had been sorting her textbooks for the early morning class, turned around. "What's the matter?"

Shi An'an hesitated, then after a long pause said: "Just don't have anything to do with him anymore. He's not a good person."

Shi An'an was a quintessential anime girl, ordinarily immersed in her own world, her greatest pleasures limited to watching animation and eating snacks. That she would say something like this was already surprising.

Under the intent gazes of her three roommates, Shi An'an said slowly: "I was in the classroom studying today, and I heard people gossiping. Yan Hao has been telling people that you were the one who threw yourself at him first..."

There were worse things she'd heard — things about a dissolute private life, about moving seamlessly from one man to the next — but she couldn't bring herself to say those aloud.

"Disgusting!" Zheng Baoni's temper flared instantly. "I should have hit Jiang Kun harder — she left Yan Hao with enough energy to keep spewing filth!"

Zhong Yin lowered her eyes in thought.

From the very beginning of the school year, a senior student had pulled her into the university's youth media center. Her work there required her to liaise with student organization representatives, and Yan Hao was one of them.

Over the past month, he had been ambiguous and persistent, dismissing her rejections entirely. But because of the professional necessity, she had never managed to cut off contact with him entirely.

"So this has already reached An'an's ears?" Guo Tao was nearly beside herself. "How many rumors has he been spreading about Yin Yin?"

"Yan Hao is the vice-president of the Computer Science Society. He knows people across every department in the whole college." Shi An'an swallowed. "So it spread fast..."

Zheng Baoni cracked her knuckles. "Despicable. Pathetic. Man."

Guo Tao turned to Zhong Yin, indignant. "Yin Yin, let's post about him on the forum and the confession wall. He used work as an excuse to harass you — let everyone see what a shameless piece of work he really is."

"That wouldn't be wise." Zhong Yin shook her head. "Yan Hao could have any post I make taken down whenever he wanted. Then he'd turn around and accuse me of slander. It would look terrible, and I'd have even less chance of setting the record straight."

"Besides — I don't want to leave a trace."

She spoke obliquely, but all three understood her meaning.

Zhong Yin's dream was to become a television anchor at CCTV.

These messy entanglements were best left unrecorded wherever possible. Otherwise, someone might dig them up one day and use them against her.

"So we're just supposed to swallow it?" Zheng Baoni demanded.

"Don't worry." Zhong Yin patted her shoulder reassuringly. "I have a plan."

"What plan? Tell us!"

She blinked. "Classified, for now."

The four of them stared at one another. Zhong Yin stifled a laugh and soothed her roommates one by one. "Alright, it's late. Time to sleep."

At half past eleven, the lights went out.

The steady, even breathing of her roommates rose and fell around her. Zhong Yin lay on her back, staring up at the underside of the bunk above, and though she lay there a long while, sleep would not come.

Moving very quietly, she sat up, reached for the book on her bedside shelf, and felt for the postcard tucked between its pages.

By the pale glow of her phone screen, she ran her fingers over the surface of the card and let her mind drift back.

This was the reply Lin Yinian had sent her during the "anonymous letter box" activity in high school.

The handwriting was vigorous and incisive, with a latent sharpness to it —

*Then walk the road you wish to walk.*
*After the solitary courage, the world opens before you.*
*— Lin Yinian*

Perhaps he had long since forgotten those words, written once for a stranger.

In the faint light, Zhong Yin's lashes cast a soft shadow as they fell.

Would he hear the rumors about her?

...What would he think of her?

Zhong Yin pressed the postcard against her heart.

The night passed without dreams.

At six o'clock, Zhong Yin rose on schedule. She had gone to sleep late, but her body was accustomed to early mornings, and though she was still tired, she forced herself out of bed.

Her roommates were all still asleep. She washed up and applied her makeup with careful, quiet movements, grabbed a slice of whole-wheat bread, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped out the door to begin a new day.

Morning fog had settled over everything. The entire campus of S University was still asleep, with only a sparse trickle of people moving about.

Yanming Lake sat between the dormitories and the dining hall, and was famously known as the university's premier spot for romantic rendezvous. But at half past six in the morning, the lakeside was still and serene, not a soul in sight — only clusters of black swans drifting lazily across the glassy surface of the water.

Zhong Yin savored this time that belonged entirely to herself. She stretched her arms wide, drew in several deep breaths of clean air, opened her bread, took a few bites, and planned to begin her vocal exercises once she had finished eating.

Behind her stretched a lush grove of parasol trees.

A gust of wind passed through, carrying with it the soft rustle of leaves. The dark figure seated on the bench stirred slightly, but did not open his eyes.

The wind did not let up. The autumn mornings in the capital had already turned cold, and the air against the skin had a bite to it.

Yi Chen frowned. After a considerable inner struggle, he reached up and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to block out the chill.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, his phone vibrated.

He ignored it.

But it kept vibrating, relentless.

Yi Chen exhaled, pressed the earphone, and answered in a voice roughened from a sleepless night: "Yeah."

"You didn't come back last night. Were you in the study room all night?"

"Mm."

"There's still time, actually. We could have divided the work — it's not too late."

"No need. It's done."

Lin Yinian sighed. "It was a team assignment. You shouldn't have had to carry it all alone."

Yi Chen said nothing.

"A-Chen?"

Yi Chen closed his eyes briefly, then said abruptly: "Since we're brothers, I'll say it plainly."

Lin Yinian paused. "Go ahead."

"This time, forget it." He paused. "But if you pull that good-person act again and bring another idiot like Yan Hao onto the team and make everyone clean up after him — you can get out too."

The prestige of the National Programming Design Challenge went without saying. Yan Hao had gotten onto the team through Lin Yinian's connections, had made sweeping promises before the competition, then vanished during it. Three days before the deadline, he broke his hand, and used it as a perfectly natural excuse to abandon every last piece of unfinished work.

Yi Chen had always spoken directly. Lin Yinian felt helpless, but had no grounds to be angry. "It was my fault. I'll screen people more carefully next time."

"I'm hanging up."

Yi Chen switched off his phone, pressed his earphones in firmly, tipped his head back, and found a comfortable position — the morning class was at eight, which meant he had at least ninety minutes.

Just enough for one complete sleep cycle.

He was on the verge of drifting off.

From the direction of the lake, sounds came floating over in broken fragments, faint and intermittent.

He twitched an eyelid. Paid it no mind.

A moment later, the sounds grew bright and insistent, dense as drumbeats, flowing and unceasing.

He had no choice but to activate the noise-canceling function on his earphones.

But the female voice had a penetrating quality that cut right through it. A tongue twister, repeating over and over in his ears like something being stir-fried in a wok — relentless, inescapable.

Taunting his already dangerously fragile state of consciousness.

Yi Chen opened his eyes. Closed them. Opened them again.

After several rounds of this, he sat up sharply, hoisted the laptop bag beside him onto his back, and walked out of the maple grove with a dark expression.

Morning mist clung to the lake.

He fixed his gaze on the indistinct figure by the water's edge, pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and said: "Hey."

Zhong Yin startled, cutting off mid-breath.

Through the shifting veil of morning fog, she could just barely make out a tall, dark silhouette — hands in pockets, radiating a palpable low pressure.

She looked around, bewildered.

"Stop looking. I mean you."

Zhong Yin said, puzzled: "Is something the matter?"

"This is a public space."

"I'm sorry—"

He cut her off: "Not your personal recording studio."

"I apologize—"

He cut her off again: "The noise you're making is disturbing me."

"..."