Chapter 713

That night, Mai Sui kept her promise to Song Yu and considered his health, so she didn’t sleep with him but shared a bed with Sun Manning.

Ye Ning, that fool, also slept on the floor in the same room, claiming it saved air conditioning electricity.

That night, energetic Li Heng worked diligently in his study, reading and writing until past 2 a.m. before finally stopping.

“The Book of the End” had grown nearly five thousand more words, completing Chapter Three.

He read it through twice, carefully revising over a dozen passages, then put down his pen satisfied, stood up, stretched long and slow, and stood by the window for a while.

On a sudden impulse, he missed Professor Yu and wondered how she was doing in Tokyo—had she slept yet?

And Huang Zhaoyi—he hadn’t seen her in a long while; had she settled her family matters?

With these questions in mind, he washed his face simply in the bathroom, then lay on the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Just before falling asleep, a thought flashed through his mind: if he couldn’t reach Da Qingyi, he’d have to visit Fuchun Xiaoyuan.

The next day.

Early that morning, Zhou Fu left; Zhou Shihe accompanied him to breakfast in the cafeteria.

Before leaving, Zhou Shihe expected her father to say something, but waited in vain—he said nothing. When she saw the car vanish from view at the school gate, she snapped out of it and went outside to buy noodles for the others.

Lushan Village.

When Zhou Dawang entered carrying various breakfast items, Mai Sui was just coming downstairs.

Mai Sui asked: “Your dad left?”

Zhou Shihe nodded.

Mai Sui whispered: “Did he ask about Li Heng?”

Zhou Shihe said: “He did.”

Mai Sui looked at her.

Zhou Shihe thought a moment and said: “He opposes it, just like Mom—deep down—but he never says it aloud.”

Mai Sui opened her arms and hugged her. “At least your uncle and aunt still love you very much.”

Zhou Shihe smiled faintly, nodded again, then asked: “Where are Manning and Ningning?”

Mai Sui said: “They’re arguing in the bathroom—I’m half-deaf from it, so I came down.”

Zhou Shihe’s smile widened; she was now immune to the two girls. “Is he still asleep?”

Mai Sui nodded: “Earlier, I went to the study to mop and found over ten more pages of manuscript—he must’ve stayed up writing all night.”

Hearing this, Zhou Shihe’s thoughts stirred, and she walked toward the staircase.

Seeing this, Mai Sui followed upstairs to the study. She closed the door, pulled out the sci-fi manuscript, and the two sisters sat side by side, reading together.

The text from yesterday afternoon and night totaled over nine thousand words; both women read intently, thoroughly absorbed.

After half an hour, Mai Sui was still lost in the story: “So intense—I was on edge the whole time.”

Zhou Shihe said: “That’s how apocalyptic films are.”

As she spoke, she gently traced the manuscript with her right hand, softly adding: “I can’t imagine how his mind works—where does he get all these original ideas?”

Mai Sui suddenly asked: “If he were an ordinary person, would you fall in love with him?”

Zhou Shihe paused, then said calmly: “If he were an ordinary person, without the prestige of being a writer or musician, far fewer people would tolerate him.”

Mai Sui understood: if Li Heng had been the same Li Heng from high school, neither the Yu family nor the Huang family would’ve given him a second glance—perhaps Zhou Fu wouldn’t have even come to Fudan University.

Mai Sui said: “No wonder he holds onto old feelings so tightly.”

Who were these old feelings for?

All the women who formed emotional bonds with him before he rose to prominence.

Zhou Shihe fell silent, picked up the manuscript again, and began reading from the beginning.

At just after 8 a.m., Li Heng stepped out of his bedroom.

He found the house eerily quiet—no one was around—but on the coffee table he found a note, written in Mai Sui’s hand.

It read: We’ve gone to register; we’re having dinner with our roommates tonight. Take care of yourself.

Great—today’s enrollment day, and he was left all alone.

The rice noodles on the table had gone soggy and were inedible; he washed up and went outside to Chunhua Noodle Shop.

As expected, it was packed—every table full—but luckily he could go upstairs, where he could play with the kids while he waited.

Liu Chunhua knew his preferences and soon brought up a bowl of beef noodles, topped with a fried egg and some wood ear mushrooms.

Li Heng took the noodles, thanked her, and asked: “Sister Chunhua, where’s Zhiyong?”

Liu Chunhua picked up the toddler from beside his feet. “Zhiyong went back to school to register—he won’t be back until noon. Oh, a girl came looking for you and left a letter for you through me.”

Li Heng looked up, surprised. “Who?”

Liu Chunhua handed the child to an elderly woman nearby, then pulled a yellow envelope from a box. “She gave it to me yesterday afternoon—short hair, shoulder-length, very beautiful. She said you’d know who she was just by the handwriting.”

The envelope bore no writing; he opened it, glanced at the letter inside, and instantly a figure came to mind—Ye Zhanyan.

He immediately understood why Ye Xuejie had given the letter to Liu Chunhua instead of mailing it or having Ye Ning deliver it.

Otherwise, the letter likely wouldn’t have reached him.

He slipped the letter back into the envelope and said: “It’s just a friend of mine. Thanks, Sister Chunhua.”

Liu Chunhua smiled. “It’s enrollment day, business is good—I’ll get back to work. Take your time eating.”

“Alright,” Li Heng replied, picking up his chopsticks to eat.

After breakfast, he didn’t linger at the noodle shop—it was too crowded, and he could hear many familiar Xiangnan accents, likely drawn here for the chili.

Entering campus, Li Heng found a quiet patch of grass, sat down, thought for a moment, then pulled out Ye Xuejie’s letter and unfolded it.

Inside was only one sheet, two paragraphs.

The first paragraph described her work at Morgan, saying it had broadened her horizons and yielded much.

The second paragraph suddenly shifted tone: she asked if he still needed people, and said that after he graduated, she could return to help him.

In other words, she planned to seek employment with him two years from now.

Though she didn’t state her purpose outright, the very existence of this letter spoke volumes.

After reading the letter, Li Heng folded it neatly and put it away.

Then he stood and walked toward the School of Management building—first to register with his advisor, then sat briefly in the director’s office, and finally went to Sun’s home.

Coincidentally, Sun had just returned from a meeting; they met at the door.

Sun, hands behind his back, looked up at the sun and said: “Huh? The sun hasn’t risen in the west today—what’s the occasion that you’ve come to see this old man?”

Li Heng pouted. “I didn’t come to see you—I came to watch a movie with Huang Ziyue.”

Sun wouldn’t have it—he grabbed Li Heng’s arm and shoved him out. “If you come to see me, I’ll even give you lunch. But if you go to see Ziyue, I won’t break your legs only because I owe Xiao Yu a favor.”

Li Heng was speechless—he thought the old man’s hair was half-white, but his grip was strong.

Hearing the commotion, Huang Ziyue stepped out from inside, saw her senior, and rushed over to pry her grandfather’s hand off, pulling Li Heng’s sleeve into the house.

Sun's face darkened; he stood frozen, nearly petrified.

Li Heng grinned smugly.

Huang Ziyue poured him tea, lowered the air conditioning, then turned on the fan to blow directly at him: “It’s too hot outside—Senior, you’re sweating. Sit down and rest.”

The granddaughter’s eager attentiveness made Sun shake his head in disbelief.