CTJM - 2

Chapter 2: Old Acquaintances

If Yin Mengxi had flipped through the documents she held on the car ride hours earlier, she would have inevitably spotted the painfully familiar name “Xiao Zhi” on the list of proposed interviewees. Next to it was a note—”Interview declined, still negotiating.”

Yao Anqi continued to quietly lament even as they moved to film in the next classroom, murmuring, “Sigh, why doesn’t Teacher Xiao want to be interviewed? He’s perfect for it...”

“Only 31 years old, the youngest associate professor, academically brilliant, and so handsome—if we market him well, he might even go viral.”

“Go viral?”

Of course.

Back in school, how many girls hadn’t secretly gossiped about Senior Xiao? Especially during his years as a teaching assistant, the elective courses in the School of Liberal Arts were notoriously hard to get into. The academic affairs office kept receiving requests from students across departments, all asking for class size expansions just to sit in.

And now?

He’s an established teacher. Though his credentials can’t compare with those of the older professors, students still flock to his classes. The lecture hall assigned to him holds over two hundred people, and today it was completely packed, every seat occupied.

Wei Chi also glanced through the window, then turned back to look at Yin Mengxi. After a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, “What does Sister Mengxi think?”

Yin Mengxi snapped out of her thoughts. “Hmm?”

“That teacher,” he gestured subtly with his chin, his expression somewhat complex. “Do you think he’s handsome?”

This question made Yin Mengxi frown slightly, her demeanor colder than when she arrived at the school earlier that morning. Without replying, she walked directly toward the neighboring classroom.

“Don’t idle chat during work hours,” her tone was rigid. “Let’s get to work.”

The professor teaching in the neighboring classroom was in his fifties, surnamed Ge, specializing in ancient scripts.

Perhaps the college had given him prior notice, as his attire today was rather formal. However, upon seeing the camera at the door, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy, and his speech became somewhat stiff. There weren’t many students in the class, scattered sparsely in the back rows, making the scene less visually appealing.

This situation left the liaison from the School of Liberal Arts visibly awkward, rubbing his hands together, unsure what to do. As he rubbed, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Soon after, students began filing out of the classrooms. In the blink of an eye, Professor Ge’s classroom was empty. Sweating profusely, he uncomfortably approached Yin Mengxi and her team to greet them, then turned to the liaison and said, “I’m really not suited for this… Why don’t you talk to Teacher Xiao again? Maybe you can film him instead…”

“Oh dear, this matter...”

The liaison started sweating too, stammering for a while without offering a satisfactory answer.

While they were at an impasse, the door to the neighboring lecture hall opened with a soft creak . Everyone turned to look, except Yin Mengxi. But her ever-dutiful peripheral vision faithfully relayed the sight of the man stepping out, surrounded by a group of female students—as always, there were always so many people around him.

“Teacher Xiao—”

At this moment, Professor Ge called out, bypassing the liaison. Yin Mengxi’s back unconsciously stiffened. Her peripheral vision continued its diligent work, informing her that he was approaching step by step.

“Teacher Ge.”

...His voice finally reached her ears.

—When was the last time she had been this close to him?

It felt like something from seven years ago.

In the Red Top Theater, they sat together in the darkened audience. The performance on stage was brilliant, but her attention remained fixed on the man sitting beside her. His eyes reflected the fleeting lights and shadows of the stage, like an observer detached from the world, exuding an indescribable charm.

“Do you think it was good?” he asked her after the show ended.

“...Of course.”

She softly replied, looking at his profile.

Now, however, she avoided looking at him, only listening as he conversed with others.

“Teacher Xiao, you’re just in time,” Professor Ge wiped the sweat from his forehead, his tone growing urgent. “The college must have mentioned this TV station’s interview to you, right? I heard you declined?”

“Ah, these things should be left to you young people. We old-timers can’t keep up with the times anymore—I’m not much younger than Professor Jia. Would you ask Professor Jia to participate in this kind of thing?”

“What meeting? Oh, the Tang-Song conference? You can let Professor Zhao take your place. This centennial celebration is more important.”

A string of persuasions followed.

“Look, the TV station staff are right here,” Professor Ge suddenly turned around to mediate. “You two should talk. I think it’s best to settle this matter today.”

By all accounts, this was the moment for Yin Mengxi, the project leader, to step forward and speak.

The situation was favorable. She should have followed up on Professor Ge’s words, earnestly expressing the sincerity and enthusiasm of their station, perhaps even complimenting Teacher Xiao on his youthful achievements. However, this time, the so-called “top producer” remained inappropriately silent. Her eyes struggled to meet the person standing before her, only hovering vaguely around his shoulders, leaving Yao Anqi, watching helplessly from the side, extremely anxious.

“Yes, yes, if Teacher Xiao could kindly make time for us, we would be extremely grateful,” she said, stepping in for her Teacher Yin. “We promise not to take up too much of your time—just two or three interviews will suffice.”

As she spoke, she subtly tugged at Yin Mengxi’s arm and asked, “Right, Teacher Yin?”

At that moment, his gaze landed clearly on her again.

She felt her throat go dry. She hadn’t expected that after all these years, his gaze would still affect her so profoundly. She felt a bit flustered but didn’t want it to show. With no other choice, she finally spoke.

“...Yes,” she maintained her composure, drawing on seven years of professional experience. “We sincerely hope Teacher Xiao can honor us with his participation.”

At last, she looked up at him.

The handsome man was just as striking as ever. In today’s terms, he had the classic “strong-featured” look: naturally deep-set brows that exuded an immediate sense of depth, sunken eye sockets, and an exquisite rise and fall between his brows like rolling mountains. He even had a widow’s peak. Anyone who glanced at him would find him attractive—and the more they looked, the better he seemed.

It was magical—both European and classical.

For now, he remained silent, his gaze on her somewhat complicated. After a moment, he glanced at the equipment behind her and asked, “Around what time?”

Beside her, Yao Anqi’s eyes lit up—he was considering it!

Oh my goodness, last year when she first joined this project, she had called Teacher Xiao’s office countless times, only to be rejected every single time without any room for negotiation. Today, she finally caught a break! If she couldn’t seize this opportunity, she deserved to stay stuck earning a meager salary for life!

“We can work around your schedule—you decide the time!” she eagerly cut in, taking over her boss’s line. “Or, would you mind adding our contact information? We can reach out anytime later!”

Overstepping her superior was a huge no-no in the workplace, but for Yin Mengxi right now, it was a blessing in disguise. It allowed her to remain silent and avoid showing any weakness. A moment later, she heard him respond, “Alright—would WeChat work?”

His inquiry was calm and polite.

“Of course, of course!” Yao Anqi nodded enthusiastically, her round apple-like face flushing red.

A soft ding signaled that the connection had been successfully added.

But he didn’t put away his phone. His gaze returned to her once more. She wasn’t sure if he was hinting that he wanted to add her as well—her heartbeat suddenly became erratic, a reaction that shouldn’t belong to a 29-year-old woman.

After hesitating for a moment, she instinctively reached into her pocket for her phone. Unfortunately, before she could act, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the teaching building. Someone called out, “Xiao Zhi—”

Another familiar voice… Yin Mengxi turned her head and, as expected, saw Tang Fei.

This senior hadn’t changed much. Perhaps people who stayed on campus aged more slowly. She was still much the same as seven years ago—equally beautiful, equally vibrant, and inseparable from her Xiao Zhi.

Yin Mengxi gave a faint smile and withdrew her hand from her pocket.

“Teacher Ge, you’re here too?”

Tang Fei approached with a bright smile to greet the teacher. After exchanging pleasantries, she turned to Xiao Zhi and asked, “I’m done with class. Shall we go have lunch together?”

Only after asking did she notice the others nearby. At first glance, she assumed they were students pestering Teacher Xiao with questions. But upon closer inspection, she suddenly recognized Yin Mengxi. Instantly, she fell silent, her expression growing complex.

This was utterly meaningless. Yin Mengxi felt a wave of boredom wash over her. What was even more boring was realizing that after all these years, she still felt a pang of bitterness seeing these two together. She no longer wanted to stay there. The rainy early spring day felt oppressively uncomfortable.

“Then let’s leave it at that for today,” she concluded decisively. “The rain outside seems like it’ll continue for a while, and it’s not ideal for capturing establishing shots of the campus. Let’s arrange another time to come back.”

Pausing briefly, she turned to Wei Chi and said, “Remember to apply for a drone. Capture some panoramic shots.”

“Got it,” Wei Chi replied obediently and quickly. “Whatever you say, sis.”

What a sweet talker.

Yin Mengxi nodded, not sparing him another glance. She thanked Teacher Ge and the liaison from the School of Liberal Arts for their cooperation today, then led Yao Anqi and Wei Chi out of the teaching building.

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

The gaze lingering behind her didn’t dissipate for a long time.