The next day, He Su Ye received a call from his professor, summoning him back to campus. It was New Year’s Day, and although a holiday, the school was unexpectedly lively. Graduate students and PhD candidates wandered the campus, their relaxed expressions revealing a rare moment of leisure.
But leisure wasn’t in the cards for He Su Ye.
Professor Gu Ping pointed to a thick stack of papers on his desk. “Xiao He, if you’re not too busy, help me correct these Fang Ge quizzes. Those undergraduates, their handwriting is absolutely atrocious.”
Left with no choice, He Su Ye took the papers. Before he could leave, Professor Gu suddenly quizzed him, “What follows ‘Suhexiang Wan, She Xi Xiang’?”
Without hesitation, He Su Ye recited, “Mu Ding, Zhu Ru, Bi Tan Nang; Xi Bing Shu Chen, He Xiang Fu; add Long Nao and warm water to complete the prescription.”
Professor Gu chuckled approvingly. “Good, very good! You haven’t forgotten a thing!” Then, suddenly stern, he added, “Xiao He, correct them properly. Be thorough. No slacking off!”
A chill ran down He Su Ye’s spine as he silently braced himself. 4.5 credits… Someone’s probably going to have to pay their way out of this again. He sighed inwardly. Professor Gu, you truly live up to your title as the ‘Ruthless Daoist’.
He packed the test papers into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and decided to grab a quick meal from the cafeteria to take home. Cutting through the long Bai Cao Corridor, he noticed a group of female students practicing with mercury sphygmomanometers on a stone bench. He barely glanced their way before continuing on.
Almost immediately, he heard an excited whisper:
“Look! A handsome guy!”
“Wow! Our school actually has someone like this? My twenty years of life have been wasted!”
“Hey, stop pumping air into this cuff! My arm’s going to explode—ouch!”
Hearing this, He Su Ye couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked up and realized he’d gone the wrong way. As he turned back, he saw a male student by the back wall boasting to a girl, “This wall’s super easy to climb. Back before the new campus opened, we’d climb over it to sneak out for overnight stays.”
He recognized that wall immediately. During the campus lockdown, countless students had climbed it to escape. However, despite its modest height, he’d never managed to climb it himself—thanks to a particular girl who’d always threatened him, “He Su Ye, just try climbing over, and see what happens!”
At the time, the school had issued a strict warning: unauthorized absences during the lockdown would result in probation and disqualification from scholarships.
He had been desperate then—no one was answering the phone at home, his parents’ office line was perpetually busy, and his cellphone had been disconnected. He felt as if he were living in a vacuum, cut off from any sound or movement, no matter how faint.
Finally, he decided to risk everything. Disciplinary action and scholarships no longer mattered. But just as he was about to jump down from the wall, a familiar voice called out to him:
“He Su Ye, don’t do anything foolish. I’m begging you, please!”
There was no commanding tone, only a tearful plea. He panicked, lost his footing, and fell off the wall, earning what he considered the most embarrassing and pathetic moment of his life. Thankfully, he only scraped his arm.
Squatting there awkwardly, ignoring the pain in his hands and feet, he softly consoled Zhang Yi Ling, “Alright, I won’t climb. Stop crying, okay? If you keep crying, I’ll dig a hole and bury myself in it.”
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