Xie Qiaoqiao stared at the bottle of mineral water in Zhang Xueji’s hand for a few seconds, then finally remembered what he’d said yesterday.
Hua Lingyue had mentioned that what Zhang Xueji said yesterday meant either his memory wasn’t completely wiped, or it was just a clumsy attempt at flirting—that was exactly what Xie Qiaoqiao needed to observe and confirm.
She took the mineral water from Zhang Xueji’s hand. “Have you met me before?”
Zhang Xueji leaned against the railing, smiling as he said, “Maybe I have. Are you a student at Nanjing University?”
Xie Qiaoqiao nodded.
Zhang Xueji said, “I’m at Nanjing University too, so we might really have met, like on the sports field or in the cafeteria or something—I think you look familiar, maybe it’s some kind of unconscious memory.
“My name is Zhang Xueji—‘Zhang’ as in the long bow, ‘Xueji’ as in clear skies after heavy snow. What about you?”
Xie Qiaoqiao answered concisely, “Xie Qiaoqiao.”
She didn’t explain which three characters, and Zhang Xueji didn’t ask.
He just took out his phone. “Why don’t we add each other’s contact info? We’re already neighbors, it’ll be convenient to get in touch if anything comes up. Oh, by the way, have you joined the Property Owners Group for the complex?”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “………No.”
Hua Lingyue hadn’t even mentioned there was a Property Owners Group.
Zhang Xueji had been holding back a smile, but when he heard Xie Qiaoqiao’s answer, he couldn’t help but grin wider—he found her expressionless way of speaking actually… kind of cute.
His smile became more obvious, revealing a single dimple on his left cheek and his prominent canine teeth.
Zhang Xueji said, “Sometimes there are water or power outages, elevator repairs, fire drills, that kind of thing—the Property Management will notify us in the group in advance. Even when they help collect packages, they post the pickup codes in the group.”
WeChat.
“I’ll add you on WeChat first, then pull you into the group.”
Xie Qiaoqiao had no reason to refuse, so she took out her phone and scanned the code to add Zhang Xueji on WeChat.
His WeChat profile picture was a meticulous painting of a Maltese Dog.
When he got home, Zhang Xueji didn’t even change his shoes—he barely had time to swing the door shut with one hand before quickly opening his phone with the other.
He couldn’t understand why he was in such a rush; after thinking it over, he could only blame it on curiosity.
His chat with Xie Qiaoqiao only had a group invitation sent by him, but the contact name was left for Xie Qiaoqiao to type herself—so those were the three characters.
Zhang Xueji stared at those three characters in the contact note for a while, then tapped on her profile picture.
Xie Qiaoqiao’s Moments weren’t set to “visible for three days,” but she hadn’t posted anything new either.
Zhang Xueji swiped the screen a couple of times, but that space remained empty.
Not the type to use WeChat much?
His phone, lying on the desk, kept lighting up with messages—Hua Lingyue was enthusiastically following up.
[Hua Lingyue: Did you meet him? What’s he like?]
[Hua Lingyue: I went to the logistics office again yesterday, they swore to the heavens that their memory wipe was absolutely flawless.]
[Hua Lingyue: He was just hitting on you, right? Looks all proper, but turns out he’s that kind of guy.]
Right after Hua Lingyue’s messages came a flood from the Property Owners Group.
Even though Xie Qiaoqiao had muted the group, new messages kept popping up without showing notification dots.
Before Zhang Xueji pulled her into the group, Xie Qiaoqiao really thought the Property Owners Group was just for notifications and package pickups—until last night, when two owners argued for three pages over an e-bike parking space.
Xie Qiaoqiao finally realized that the Property Owners Group also served a function similar to a campus confession wall.
While the teacher was rambling from Shakespeare to his daughter’s PhD studies abroad—Xie Qiaoqiao opened WeChat to reply.
[Xie Qiaoqiao: Met him.]
[Xie Qiaoqiao: You didn’t add me to the Property Owners Group.]
[Hua Lingyue: I forgot, my bad!]
[Xie Qiaoqiao: It’s fine.]
[Xie Qiaoqiao: Kind-hearted Xiao Zhang already pulled me in.]
[Hua Lingyue: ???]
[Hua Lingyue: Who is “kind-hearted Xiao Zhang”?!]
Xie Qiaoqiao switched out of the chat and immediately saw that painting of a Maltese Dog as the profile picture.
Her former roommate Qiongsi Sang was doing her nails and chatting with Xie Qiaoqiao: “Qiaobao, why did you suddenly apply to live off-campus? Now that you’ve moved out, there’s an empty bed in our dorm, and the dorm manager said they’ll assign a new freshman.”
“I don’t want a new roommate, mismatched schedules always end up with arguments.”
Xie Qiaoqiao used the excuse Hua Lingyue taught her: “My relative went abroad and left an empty apartment for me to stay in.”
Qiongsi Sang: “Is it far from school? If it’s close, maybe I’ll rent a place too.”
Xie Qiaoqiao thought for a moment and finally remembered the name of the complex: “Azure Cloud Court, it’s close to school.”
Qiongsi Sang paused her nail filing, looked up at Xie Qiaoqiao in disbelief: “Azure Cloud Court? The one by the Nan Zhen River?”
“That complex is expensive, right? Don’t tell me it’s a villa?”
Xie Qiaoqiao shook her head—Qiongsi Sang let out a subtle sigh of relief, then went back to her usual lazy smile: “See, a high-rise is great too, the view there is really nice. But now that you’ve moved out, I’ll really miss you, Qiaobao~”
Qinghua Lu, sitting nearby, rolled her eyes discreetly, speechless at Qiongsi Sang.
Just then, the class bell rang.
Xie Qiaoqiao quickly pulled her arm away from Qiongsi Sang’s embrace and stuffed her books into her bag.
They sat in the last row, but not near the aisle.
If they waited for everyone in front to leave one by one, it would be too slow.
Xie Qiaoqiao was in a hurry and didn’t have time to wait, so she braced herself on the back of the chair and flipped over it in one motion.
By the time Qiongsi Sang reacted, even Xie Qiaoqiao’s back was out of sight.
She looked confusedly at the other two roommates: “Is it lunchtime already?”
Qinghua Lu checked her watch, equally puzzled: “It’s only ten o’clock.”
The English major was in East Campus, while the Applied Mathematics major was in West Campus—the two campuses were separated by two roads, with a residential complex in between; the same complex where Xie Qiaoqiao and Zhang Xueji lived.
According to that schedule, Zhang Xueji had to go to the Qinxue Building for a research seminar on Monday.
Although she couldn’t make heads or tails of the long list of research topics on the schedule, Xie Qiaoqiao still decided to check it out.
After all, her task was to monitor and observe Zhang Xueji.
But as soon as she entered West Campus, Xie Qiaoqiao got lost.
She had never been to West Campus before, and didn’t expect it to be completely different from the East Campus she’d just gotten used to.
She stopped in front of the cafeteria for the third time, maintaining her expressionless silence.
After a moment, she made up her mind and went inside.
It was already eleven thirty—whatever else, it could wait until after lunch.
The cafeteria in West Campus had a very different menu from East Campus.
Xie Qiaoqiao queued up, got her food, and found an empty seat to eat.
As noon approached, more and more people started filling the cafeteria.
Xie Qiaoqiao had almost finished eating and was just about to clear her tray and continue searching for her way—
“Qiaoqiao?”
Amid the noise, Xie Qiaoqiao vaguely heard her name.
She looked around and immediately spotted the towering figure of Zhang Xueji, who stood out in the crowd.
Two casually dressed guys stood beside him, probably classmates, looking at Xie Qiaoqiao with surprised expressions.
But that surprise quickly faded, and Zhang Xueji strode over. “What a coincidence, are you here alone?”
He glanced around her—there were people coming and going, but it didn’t look like anyone was eating with Xie Qiaoqiao.
Xie Qiaoqiao nodded.
Zhang Xueji noticed the tray she’d just put in the return area and saw that her meal didn’t include fruit or yogurt.
“Here, for you—it’s so hot today, have something cold, don’t get heatstroke.”
He handed her a chilled yogurt.
Someone in the distance called his name, probably urging him to come eat.
Zhang Xueji: “I’ll go eat now, bye!”
Xie Qiaoqiao: “Goodbye.”
Zhang Xueji waved at her, his goodbye gesture looking just like Doraemon.
He turned and walked off to join his companions for lunch, while Xie Qiaoqiao stood in place and observed for a while.
Zhang Xueji seemed quite popular—Xie Qiaoqiao saw that the table he sat at had lots of people, both guys and girls.
The young man was clearly the center of that group; as soon as he sat down, people started talking to him, their lively chat blending with the cafeteria’s background noise into a single flowing river.
Xie Qiaoqiao found a spot where she could see all three cafeteria entrances at once, sat down, and added three characters to her phone’s notepad: “social butterfly.”
She opened the yogurt, stuck in the straw, and took a sip: grape flavor.
Glancing down at the yogurt box, she memorized the name, deciding to buy two more boxes at the supermarket on her way home.
She waited about forty minutes, finally seeing Zhang Xueji finish eating—the young man picked up his tray, said a quick word to his companions who were still eating, and left with the other students who’d finished.
Xie Qiaoqiao followed, biting her yogurt straw.
The moment she stepped out of the cafeteria, the sunlight made her squint.
Outside the air-conditioned cafeteria, the heat outside was like a giant oven, hot waves swirling and distorting the air.
That current in the air, that unique smell of hot summer days, could almost trick you into thinking it was the scent of passersby being half-roasted.
Xie Qiaoqiao pulled her backpack over her head for shade and followed Zhang Xueji and his group from a distance—there were few people on the road, so she could faintly hear their conversation.
But hearing and understanding were two different things.
They were talking about things like Python, shock tubes, and Sod.
As the words entered Xie Qiaoqiao’s ears, they automatically turned into a jumble of static.
But Zhang Xueji seemed to understand.
He didn’t talk much; most of the time it was his companions having heated discussions.
But whenever Zhang Xueji spoke, everyone else would fall silent, listening to his few words, and then each one would go, “Ohhh—” in unison.
Xie Qiaoqiao: What are they “ohhh”-ing about? Did they really get it? What on earth is Zhang Xueji talking about? Calculus? It doesn’t sound like it…
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.