Chapter 67: From Now On, I

When Xu Qingzhou stepped out, the girl was leaning on the railing, boredly watching the scenery outside the window.

Song Yao heard footsteps, turned her head, and seemed to regain some energy: “Did your paper have problems?”

“Let’s go.” Xu Qingzhou shook his head, walking out with her as he said, “No issues—the professor wanted me for something else.”

“A professor from the Physics Academy needs someone for a project, so he recommended me.”

“You’re only a freshman—you’re already joining a research project?”

Song Yao’s beautiful eyes held disbelief; she, someone who had been called a “top student” since childhood, suddenly felt the despair of being crushed by another top student.

A sudden sense of urgency gripped her—she really needed to work harder.

“Who’s this?” Xu Qingzhou handed his phone back to Song Yao.

Read!{

Xu Qingzhou gave up entirely and retorted: “That’s not right—food and beauty are human nature; people naturally pursue beautiful things.”

“White?”

So the girl, whose stomach had been growling for hours, snapped a dozen photos and sent them to the small group chat with Guo Ziyang and the others.

Xu Qingzhou had nothing to say—the person on the other end probably took ten thousand points of damage.

Although she had no relationship with Xu Qingzhou, she had once promised his parents she’d keep an eye on him.

“White.” He answered instinctively, then quickly corrected himself: “It’s too hot during the day—look, I started sweating after just two steps.”

The interior wasn’t well-renovated, a bit old-fashioned, like the typical greasy spoon restaurants—six tables, and at 12:30, right at mealtime, when Xu Qingzhou and Song Yao arrived, only the last table remained.

As Xu Qingzhou lifted his chopsticks, Song Yao slapped his hand away: “Not yet! Take a photo first!”

“Who are you trying to insult?” Song Yao had no objections; she even thought this was perfect—it gave her more time to stay with Xu Qingzhou.

Today was September 9th; Guo Ziyang and Ding Jiahui were packing their things, planning to take a morning flight to Beijing tomorrow—but unfortunately, Xu Qingzhou and the others were still in military training.

The two of them devoured every dish like a whirlwind, clearing the table clean.

Xu Qingzhou stared, mesmerized; Song Yao clenched her teeth, wanting to compete—but then she looked down and remembered she was wearing camouflage.

“Anyway—anyway, you’re not allowed to look. Or else I’ll tell your uncle and aunt that you spend your days staring at girls!” Song Yao chuckled twice, as if calling herself a pervert was somehow refined.

“Standard procedure.” Xu Qingzhou was humble; seeing Song Yao seemed slightly shaken, he sighed: “Don’t stress too much—after all, not having enough brain cells isn’t your fault.”

Tan Family Cuisine is home-style cooking, emphasizing slow fire and meticulous preparation—not like regular restaurants, which rush dishes out for business, resulting in soft, tender textures and rich flavors.

In September, the weather was still very hot; besides natural scenery, the most eye-catching sight on campus was probably the long legs of the senior girls.

After sitting down, Xu Qingzhou spoke to Song Yao: “The chef here specializes in Tan Family Cuisine—in a few years, you won’t even get a seat without booking months in advance.”

That leg shape is incredibly soothing.

Song Yao glanced at the phone number, her elegant brows slightly furrowed, then handed the phone to Xu Qingzhou: “You answer.”

Three dishes—perfect in color, aroma, and taste.

Xu Qingzhou confidently named three dishes to the middle-aged man.

“Fine.” Xu Qingzhou sighed, spreading his hands: “Alright then, I’ll only look at you from now on—wait, why are you pinching me again?!”

Song Yao said matter-of-factly: “I ran all this way with you on an empty stomach, waited for you this long—and you? You made me angry, so what’s wrong with treating me to a meal?”

Xu Qingzhou led Song Yao out of campus, turned down two streets, and entered a private kitchen.

The two strolled slowly toward the southwest gate. “Ow~ ow~”

At noon, when they returned to campus, it was already 1:40—they went straight to the training ground.

Song Yao was tasting her soup, casually saying: “An upperclassman who wants to court me.”

The voice on the other end was male.

After daytime training ended, at 9 p.m., Xu Qingzhou took his laptop to the dorm building’s study room to prepare his submission.

“Miss Song Yao—”

The food was truly delicious; even Song Yao dropped her pretense, cheeks bulging as she ate ravenously. Xu Qingzhou was also hungry.

Xu Qingzhou was baffled but took the call anyway.

On the blackboard were six or seven dishes: Braised Shark Fin, Beijing-Style Shredded Pork, Clear Soup Bird’s Nest.

At 1 p.m., their dishes finally arrived.

Guo Ziyang and Ding Jiahui were envious, promising to meet up for a meal once they arrived.

“Ding~” Xu Qingzhou had just finished eating and was waiting for Song Yao when her phone suddenly rang.

“Thank you… Huh? Xu Qingzhou!” Song Yao’s heart warmed, but instantly she realized—her eyes blazed with anger, her fingers twisted half a circle around his waist.

He opened his laptop, reviewed his paper—only minor revisions were needed, but it was indeed more polished, saving him considerable trouble.

The other side choked slightly, seemingly stunned, then laughed it off: “Actually, nothing important—I just wanted to talk about the welcome party. Since you’re busy, we’ll handle it ourselves.”

The man nodded, focused on his work, offering no extra words. Xu Qingzhou didn’t wait for the owner to invite them in—he and Song Yao sat down at the table the aunt had just cleared.

Wow, this JK is nice.

!.

Just as Xu Qingzhou was lost in staring, a demon’s whisper sounded in his ear.

“You pinch me, and now you want me to treat you to dinner?” Xu Qingzhou stopped walking.

Xu Qingzhou glanced at Song Yao, saw her absorbed in her soup, utterly indifferent, and said calmly: “Hello, she’s busy—whatever it is, you can tell me first.”

Song Yao had never eaten at a place like this before; she found it fascinating.

Passersby nearby were immediately drawn by the screams.

Song Yao was startled by Xu Qingzhou’s reaction—she thought, It’s just a pinch, why such a big deal? Seeing him grimace in pain, she finally felt satisfied—then noticed everyone around was staring at her, and she blushed: “Let’s go—you owe me dinner.”

“Hmph, hypocrite.”

Xu Qingzhou also noticed the target was a bit too prominent; he gripped his waist: “Fine, fine—I’ll take you somewhere good. But it’s off-campus—can you walk?”

“Wow, are first-years really this bold now?” Senior students were envious—especially when they saw the beautiful girl beside Xu Qingzhou, their envy turning sour.

He spent ten minutes writing the submission letter, briefly introducing his research content and future outlook.

He connected to the campus network and entered the official website of Inventiones Mathematicae.

After filling in all the required information and clicking upload, seeing his submission had entered review, he set it aside and began translating his second paper.

For journals like this, the earliest review time was weeks—even months.

(End of Chapter)