In that cohort, the entire Supervision and Engineering department had only six girls. Jiang Cheng, being the youngest, was nicknamed “Sixth Sister” in her dormitory. Over time, the name spread, and by her sophomore year, nearly everyone in the department called her “Sixth Sister.” However, when they arrived at Wang Hai Kou, she unexpectedly became “Seventh Sister.”
Jiang Cheng demanded indignantly, “Wang Hai, why have you demoted me by one rank?”
Wang Hai replied confidently, “With Ru Yuan included, doesn’t that make you seventh?”
Jiang Cheng glared at him. “Stop mentioning Ru Yuan every other sentence. I know you’re about to get your ‘wish fulfilled’.” (This is a play on Ru Yuan’s name, which means “wish fulfilled.”)
In reality, Wang Hai’s pursuit of Ru Yuan was far from smooth, and even Jiang Cheng couldn’t help him. Although Ru Yuan and Jiang Cheng were in different departments, they were inseparable—eating together, fetching water, and going everywhere as a pair. At night, they often shared a bed instead of returning to their own dorms after lights-out. Once, Jiang Cheng jokingly mocked herself: “I must be the most hated girl on campus for monopolizing Ru Yuan, the campus queen.”
Ru Yuan, laughing, hugged her shoulder and replied, “No, I’m the most hated girl on campus for refusing to give anyone even a sliver of attention.”
Jiang Cheng only spoke on Wang Hai’s behalf once. “Ru Yuan, you and Wang Hai are a good match. The campus queen and the proudest guy—it’s like something straight out of a novel.”
Ru Yuan gave her a languid, sidelong glance, her eyes as captivating as autumn waters. “Jiang Cheng, Wang Hai has a whole line of girls chasing him. I’m not getting involved in that mess.”
By her junior year, Jiang Cheng had no ambitions for graduate school, and her academics took a back seat. She frequently skipped classes to watch morning shows at the Trolley Cinema or wander the library, flipping through old books and obscure magazines. As the saying goes, if you walk by the river often enough, you’ll eventually get your feet wet. One day, she was caught red-handed by the strictest professor in the department, nicknamed “Extinction Master.” Missing roll call and scoring a zero on a pop quiz gave the professor enough ammunition to declare, with a sour tone and unyielding resolve, that Jiang Cheng’s final exam would be an uphill battle.
Frustrated, Jiang Cheng sulked in her dormitory for a long time. Just then, Wang Hai called, and she immediately latched onto her lifeline.
“Brother-in-law, you have to help me this time.”
Wang Hai chuckled helplessly. “Just hearing you call me that, I know it’s trouble.”
She rarely called him “brother-in-law” because she refused to acknowledge Ru Yuan as her “sister,” as if doing so would be a massive loss for her. Ru Yuan was a few months older than Jiang Cheng, who had skipped a grade in elementary school and had always been the youngest in her class. Being seen as a kid was something she deeply resented.
Ignoring all of this, Jiang Cheng launched into an impassioned rant about Extinction Master’s cold-blooded cruelty, rattling off her complaints in rapid-fire succession over the phone. “I don’t care what you do. I heard you’re the only one who can talk sense into Extinction Master. Fix it for me!”
Wang Hai agreed without much hesitation, replying with a laugh, “Alright, but you owe me dinner if I succeed.”
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