Xu Ye and Zhang Xinzhou made their way back to campus, joking the whole way. Just as they passed the student activity center—
“Xu Ye!”
A voice stopped them both in their tracks.
He turned to find Wang Shiyu — the ponytail girl from the dinner that first week back — jogging toward them. Same ponytail as before, an off-white T-shirt tucked into black denim shorts, legs not especially long but well-proportioned enough to work.
She came to a stop in front of them, tilted her head up at him, and demanded, “Why didn’t you reply to my message?”
It came back to him then. She’d messaged him at some point during training. He hadn’t been in the mood to answer at the time, and by the time he remembered, too much time had passed and he just couldn’t be bothered.
“I’ve been really busy. Did you need something?”
“I just wanted to ask which school you’re actually at. Now that I know, let’s properly introduce ourselves. International Economics and Trade, Wang Shiyu.” She flashed an easy, pleasant smile and stuck out a hand.
He shook it briefly and let go.
“What department are you in?”
“Finance.”
“Got it.” She’d already started to turn away when she spun back around. “Our school’s hosting a welcome party for freshmen Friday night. Want to come check it out?”
“We’ll see, might not have time.”
“I’m performing. Your roommate already told me he’d come watch. You guys not coming together?”
Xu Ye smiled. “You mean Yang Fei?”
“Is that his name? Didn’t even know that — just knew he was your roommate.”
“Yeah. I’m the one who gave him your contact.”
“You didn’t even ask me first,” she said, a little playfully.
Xu Ye spread his hands helplessly. “Wasn’t really up to me. Kid practically called me Dad ten times trying to get your WeChat. Felt rude saying no after that.”
She didn’t seem to mind. “Friday night, don’t forget. I’m heading back now.”
They watched her walk off.
Zhang Xinzhou grinned. “She’s got a thing for you.”
“If she’s got any sense, she should’ve heard me turn her down already,” Xu Ye said.
“She seemed pretty cute, though.”
Xu Ye shook his head. “Not worth the trouble.”
“Not worth the trouble?”
“I don’t know what it is,” Xu Ye muttered, “but lately, the second a girl with green tea energy gets close, I can just sense it.” [TL: “green tea” is Chinese internet slang for a woman who comes across as sweet and innocent but is actually calculated or manipulative in how she pursues romantic interest]
“Sounds like there’s a story there. Spill it.”
…
Gu Mengyao had ended up at an engineering university in the provincial capital.
By her very first day of registration, she’d already become a minor celebrity on the school’s online forum [TL: likely Baidu Tieba — a popular Chinese forum platform organized by school or topic, similar to a subreddit] — somebody had secretly snapped several photos of her and posted them, and after a chorus of leering male commenters weighed in, she’d been crowned, more or less by acclamation, the school’s reigning campus beauty.
Engineering schools, as a rule, ran heavy on men and light on women. Majors like Mechanical Automation, Civil Engineering, and Software Engineering rarely had more than ten girls per class, and the average looks tended to be, well, average.
Gu Mengyao’s major was a bit of an exception, though — e-commerce, under the Computer Science school. In 2014, that program was still considered desirable, and the gender ratio there came close to even.
Once she became the campus beauty, she drew attention wherever she went, and she genuinely loved every second of it.
On the very first day of military training, a classmate had confessed to her.
She’d turned him down on the spot.
No deep reason — he just wasn’t as good-looking as Xu Ye. Ever since the two of them had cut ties, Gu Mengyao had been carrying around one fixed idea: she’d find a boyfriend better than Xu Ye in every measurable way, and rub it in his face — I, Gu Mengyao, can land someone better than you. Go ahead and regret losing me.
Liu Qian had told her there’d be plenty of impressive guys in college to choose from. But to Gu Mengyao’s growing disappointment, half a month into the semester, plenty of guys had made their interest known — and not a single one of them had measured up.
Case in point: right now.
A sophomore had just planted himself in her path, trying to get her WeChat.
Gu Mengyao glanced him over, and as always, her first reflex was to run the comparison against Xu Ye in her head. Xu Ye won again. She shook her head gently and let him down as gracefully as she could. “Sorry, I’m not really looking to date right now.”
The guy had no choice but to retreat awkwardly, his two roommates snickering behind him.
Gu Mengyao felt a little dazed by it all.
This school had at least twenty thousand students. Was it really possible that not one single guy among twenty thousand could outdo Xu Ye?
She went back to her dorm, opened her phone, and, driven by curiosity she couldn’t quite suppress, pulled up Xu Ye’s QQ Zone. [TL: a social feed feature attached to QQ accounts, roughly equivalent to a Facebook profile] But he hadn’t posted a single update since the gaokao. Disappointed, she backed out.
Back on the main message screen, the high school group chat had a fresh message from Li Nan, her old class president.
Li Nan: Ha, three years of being class president in high school, and now I end up class president in college too. Didn’t see that coming.
College had everyone eager to share their new lives with old classmates, and once Li Nan broke the silence, plenty of others started chiming in.
“My school crammed eight of us into one dorm room. I’m losing my mind!”
“Mine’s a little better, six per room, but no AC.”
“Vocational colleges are basically always six per room.”
Li Nan: None of you have AC? How did you all survive military training?
“Don’t even talk about it, I’m considering going back to retake the gaokao.”
“My roommates run a full five-stack every single night in our dorm. [TL: “wuhei” — gaming slang for a five-person squad queuing together in a game, usually League of Legends] I finally understand the gap between vocational college and a real university.”
“Xu Ye had the best score in our class. Where’d he end up going?”
“Didn’t even throw a college send-off banquet. [TL: a celebratory family banquet thrown when a student gets into college, especially common for students testing into a good school] No idea where he disappeared to.”
Qin Zhiwei: I’m in Shanghai with Xu Ye.
Li Nan: How’s he doing out there? Why’s he never online in the group?
Qin Zhiwei: Busy guy. Was company leader during military training, now he’s class president too, plus he’s got a girlfriend. No time left for chatting in some group.
The second he sent that, the chat went oddly quiet.
…
Five minutes later, Xu Ye sent Qin Zhiwei a private message: How’d you know I made class president?
Qin Zhiwei: ???
Qin Zhiwei: Wait, you actually became class president?
Xu Ye: Yeah.
Qin Zhiwei: Holy crap, I just said that because Li Nan was annoying me with his flexing in the group chat. Wanted to one-up him, that’s all.
Qin Zhiwei: Wait, hold on — how’d you even get elected class president?
Qin Zhiwei: Was there literally nobody else in your class?
Xu Ye: You absolute clown. Next time you’re flexing on my behalf, give me a heads up first. You already used up my whole flex for the year. What am I even supposed to brag about now?
Qin Zhiwei: I’m starting to feel like the gap between us is getting bigger by the day since college started.
Xu Ye: Just now figuring that out?
Qin Zhiwei: Get on the game. Let me solo-carry Yasuo and stomp you into the dirt. [TL: Yasuo — a flashy, mechanically demanding League of Legends champion often associated with players showing off]
Qin Zhiwei: Hurry! It’s urgent!
(End of Chapter)