Chapter 83: Old Xu, Don

At 2 p.m. was Modern Chinese History, and Xu Qingzhou, who hadn’t slept much, was successfully lulled to sleep; his eyelids kept drooping during most of the class, and after dismissal, he simply went back to bed. Xu Zhengyang went to the Eagle Society for rock climbing training, while Kong Xianbo and Zhai Ziqiang headed to the library to study hard.

Xu Qingzhou had figured it out—Kong Xianbo was holding a grudge, probably plotting how to surpass him.

He handled class duties, attended lectures, corrected papers, and even found time to show up at the student union—such diligence, the classic model of a top student.

Too bad—he was a reincarnated cheat with a system.

At 4:30 p.m., Xu Qingzhou woke up after his afternoon nap to find five or six missed calls from Professor Gu Zhi Zhong.

What’s so urgent? Xu Qingzhou wondered, and called back.

“Little Xu?”

“So Zhao Shengwen’s old man already talked to you.”

Read!

He nodded and said, “Your idea’s good. Once you understand the math problems, a lot of physics becomes much easier to grasp. After all, many physics formulas are derived using mathematical tools.”

Kong Xianbo suddenly stood up from his chair, notebook in hand, heading for the self-study room. “Jiejiejie, Old Xu, you go ahead and drown in beauty—I’m going to study!”

“Tomorrow I’ll go for a run; better wash out my clothes first.” Xu Qingzhou dug out a few more dirty clothes and washed them together.

Gu Zhi Zhong finally relaxed, then asked about the progress of Xu Qingzhou’s thesis. Learning it had entered external review didn’t surprise him—he’d read it, and the quality was solid.

“Running?”

He paused, then asked as if casually, “You said earlier you were pretty good at physics?”

“Just get used to it. If you have any problems, come find me.” Gu Zhi Zhong sipped his tea, smiling. “What’s your first impression of joining a project?”

Xu Qingzhou sat down opposite Gu Zhi Zhong and shook his head. “Thank you, Professor, I’m not thirsty.”

Xu Zhengyang wore an epiphany-like expression: “I admit, I was naive earlier—I actually thought about dating. Looking back now, I feel so stupid. Old Xu, you were right: dating? Even dogs won’t do it!”

Amid chaotic guitar strumming came the “click-click” of a keyboard—Xu Zhengyang was gaming, slaughtering in the valley, and when emotions peaked, he seemed to be smashing the keys.

Xu Zhengyang frowned. “When did you pick up this hobby?”

He looked at Xu Qingzhou. “Eh~ Old Xu, why are you holding athletic pants? Planning to work out?”

Xu Qingzhou sighed helplessly and carried the clothes to the laundry room.

“I understand.” Xu Qingzhou adopted a humble, receptive posture, knowing Gu Zhi Zhong was still annoyed about his old friend poaching students, so he didn’t mention his plan to also study physics.

“Impressive.”

The dorm was quiet.

The environment was noisy—but could he still study? Of course he could! Especially when all his roommates were slacking off while he alone was improving; he even found the pale, chaotic guitar sounds strangely pleasant.

“Pour your own water.” Gu Zhi Zhong pointed to the water dispenser beside him.

“Just settle down, root yourself in math—you’ll achieve great things in the future.”

“Alright.” Xu Qingzhou agreed, washed his face quickly, and went to the Math Department to find Gu Zhi Zhong. When he arrived, the office was empty except for Gu Zhi Zhong, who was reviewing documents.

“Professor Gu, you wanted to see me?” Xu Qingzhou asked.

!.

“Pentakill!” This—this was the college life he’d dreamed of!

Xu Qingzhou and the other two gave their approval.

“Awesome.”

Gu Zhi Zhong smiled. “If it feels hard, that’s good—it’s a valuable practical experience. Math is a tool. There’ll be many more projects like this ahead.”

“Are you busy?” the voice on the other end asked.

Kong Xianbo was organizing his advanced algebra notes.

Unlike earlier, when he’d been anxious—worrying whether his image was off, whether he’d messed up something, whether he’d made Dong Shan uncomfortable.

Beside him, Kong Xianbo paused his actions, his gaze lifting from his notebook, suddenly feeling a strange sense of familiarity.

Gu Zhi Zhong took off his reading glasses and asked kindly, “Little Xu, it’s been a week since classes started—how are you adjusting to university life?”

Xu Qingzhou rummaged through his closet; at Song Yao’s reminder, he’d dug out his dusty athletic wear, planning to wash it.

“It’s tough—much harder than pure mathematical theory,” Xu Qingzhou remarked.

Xu Zhengyang pulled off his headphones and showed his roommates his glorious achievement, shouting excitedly: “Guys, pentakill!”

Xu Zhengyang’s lip twitched; he felt a sudden chest pain. Suddenly, his pentakill didn’t feel nearly as joyful.

Gu Zhi Zhong exhaled in relief—he’d almost feared Xu Qingzhou had truly been swayed by Zhao Shengwen’s old man.

Gu Zhi Zhong snorted, still clearly irritated: “Those physics people always think truth belongs solely to them—‘objective laws of the universe’ and all that. But when they hit a problem, who do they come begging to? Us.”

“I’m adjusting. Life’s been full.” Xu Qingzhou smiled. Lately, he’d begun to feel a bit like he did during his old lab days.

After bidding farewell to Gu Zhi Zhong, Xu Qingzhou went to eat, then headed to his Ideology and Policy class.

“Yeah, I was always good at it in high school, and I tinkered with it on my own. But compared to that, right now I’d rather solidify my math foundation first.”

“Threatened by Song Yao—she made me promise to run with her tomorrow. Girls are such a hassle.”

“Professor, you’re worried I’ll get poached by the Physics Department, right?” Xu Qingzhou chuckled.

“Cool.”

The voice on the other end seemed to relax. “If you’re free, come to my office.”

Xu Qingzhou replied apologetically: “No, I’ve been up late these past few days, and I caught up on sleep this afternoon.”

He’d completely given up lately—occasionally joined Eagle Society activities, went hiking, and when idle, ruled the valley battlefield.

Evening, 10:30 p.m.

Dorm 101 was lively, filled with intermittent guitar strumming: “Zeng~ zeng~” Zhai Ziqiang practiced on his $300 firestick guitar, muttering: “6323, 1323, 5323, 1323, 5~ no, 4323.”

But just before leaving, he paused, patted Xu Zhengyang on the shoulder, and said sincerely: “Old Xu, don’t do this again.”

You’ve lived with Old Xu this long—don’t you know he’s a cheat king? How dare you go out of your way to invite trouble?

Tuesday evening, 6 p.m.

The evening sun was no longer scorching; it warmed the skin. The sports field was crowded: teams played soccer, couples lounged on the viewing platform, and on an open patch, the taekwondo club seemed to be training new members.

On the other side, the cheerleading squad practiced too—those snow-white legs…

It was just… beautiful.

(End of Chapter)