Chapter 44: Learning

—Is it okay?

Of course, it’s okay.

No timid person enjoys their own cowardice, just as no awkward person doesn’t yearn to become more open and honest. Yin Mengxi knew full well the problems she had in this relationship, and to change the current state of passive estrangement, she needed to make an effort first. She was very good at putting in effort—it was a basic survival skill for someone who had come from a small town to University A, and it was something she would never abandon, no matter the circumstances.

—The first step was to actively join their project team.

Her seniors were all very kind; when they heard she wanted to join, they all welcomed her. On the day Xiao Zhi added her to their work chat group, everyone even lined up to congratulate her with virtual confetti. But Yin Mengxi knew that this was all because of Xiao Zhi’s influence. The composition of their project team was top-notch—not just anyone could join. Winning an award at the Challenge Cup competition was an important milestone for any college student, and it would greatly help their future job prospects. Their inclusion of her felt like a pro gamer bringing along a newbie for an elite match. She was essentially there to pick up scraps and gain experience.

How elite was this team? Well, the university’s innovation department had specially allocated them a studio on the second floor of the old campus’s main building. It was spacious, covering nearly a hundred square meters.

By the time Yin Mengxi joined, they had already completed a significant amount of preliminary work. More than half of the studio space was stacked high with books, resembling small mountains. Another section housed a row of monitors, likely for Gao Han and his coding work. The remaining area was occupied by a long conference table, which could seat about seven or eight people.

When Xiao Zhi took her to visit, she was utterly stunned. Pointing at the piles of thick books, she asked him, “Th-these books… are we supposed to read all of them?”

…There were just too many.

“Some don’t need to be read thoroughly—they’re only for external reference,” he replied while opening the window to let in some fresh air. “We’ll divide the work among everyone. On average, it’s manageable.”

“Manageable…”

Yin Mengxi quickly did some mental math. Even if six people were reading these books together, each person would still have to go through at least sixty or seventy hefty volumes. And these weren’t just ordinary books—they were ancient texts with vertical formatting. She flipped through one and realized the pages were filled with intricate characters…

…And this was considered “manageable”?

She quietly digested this information for a moment before sticking close to Xiao Zhi like a little shadow, following him wherever he went. She even helped wipe down the table and then tugged on his sleeve, asking, “So what exactly will I be doing? Just reading books?”

She followed him so closely that when he turned around, they nearly bumped into each other. He sighed and stopped moving, pulling out a chair for her to sit down while he leaned casually against the conference table nearby. “Right now, Sun Zhuo is finalizing which two museums we’ll focus on. The key is selecting artifacts with strong connections between them. Once that’s confirmed, we’ll need to organize the relevant literature based on those artifacts. The museums provide some basic materials, but they’re incomplete, so we’ll need to supplement them with historical documents.”

She nodded obediently, listening and thinking carefully before asking, “So, will the page display just text, or will it also show images of the original books?”

“That depends on the technical side of things. They mentioned yesterday that image processing might pose some challenges,” he said, picking up a book and flipping through it slowly. “But regardless, we’ll still need to screen and select content. There are also details like proofreading and corrections—it’s a bit tricky.”

She began to understand the enormity of the task. Essentially, they had to comb through countless ancient texts to find every piece of information related to a specific artifact, compile it, and then proofread it. Even focusing on just one or two museums amounted to an overwhelming workload.

He glanced at her worried face and smiled slightly, asking, “Regretting joining us yet?”

Regret?

How could she?

“No,” she replied shyly, lowering her head halfway. After hesitating for a moment, she reached out and gently tugged on his sleeve. “…Besides, I’m doing this with you.”

Her soft voice carried a hint of vague affection. Anyone who heard it would know how deeply she liked him. Xiao Zhi felt as though a fluffy little bunny was gently nudging his heart—it would be unreasonable not to reach out and pet it.

Unfortunately, just as this thought crossed his mind and before he could raise his hand, the studio door was pushed open from the outside. Sun Zhuo walked in with two unfamiliar male students. Seeing only the two of them in the room, he grinned mischievously and said, “Oh sorry, sorry! Did I interrupt anything?”

Yin Mengxi, always well-mannered, quickly stood up to offer her seat to the senior. Sun Zhuo waved her off, saying, “No need,” and grabbed a cup to pour himself some water. After gulping it down and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he continued, “I’ve got to run to the museum later. I just came by to drop off reinforcements—this is Wu Tian Tian and Ding Wei, two fourth-year undergraduates from our department. They’ll help us review materials once we get started. They’re fast.”

After a pause, he added with a grin, looking at Xiao Zhi, “Little Wu wants to pursue a direct research program in your Literature Department. He’s been idolizing you for ages. Don’t hesitate to put him to work. If you don’t want your girlfriend straining herself, let them handle it.”

This comment made Yin Mengxi blush crimson once again.

And just like that, a new chapter of her life suddenly began.

It was late August, and the semester hadn’t started yet, so Yin Mengxi didn’t have classes or other responsibilities. She could spend entire days with Xiao Zhi. In the mornings, they’d eat breakfast together—sometimes he’d pick her up from her dormitory, other times they’d meet at the cafeteria or a café on University Road. Afterward, they’d head to the studio. They’d work diligently through the morning. For lunch, depending on the number of people present, they’d either order takeout or go out to eat alone if there weren’t many people around. They’d return afterward and stay late into the evening, often leaving after ten o’clock. He’d walk her back to her dormitory and say, “See you tomorrow,” before parting ways.

At first, she found it difficult to get into the swing of things, especially since she wasn’t from an ancient literature background. Reading ancient texts was slow going, and adapting to the vertical formatting was challenging enough. To make matters worse, many of the characters were variants she didn’t recognize. She kept her computer open, frequently setting down the book to search terms on Baidu.

Sometimes, even after finding the search results, she couldn’t understand the explanations—the fonts wouldn’t display properly, resulting in garbled text. At such moments, she had no choice but to approach Xiao Zhi, who sat nearby, and ask him about the character and how to record it.

He was always a patient teacher, never showing frustration no matter how many times she interrupted him. Each time, he’d help her understand. It was during these moments that she truly grasped how vast and profound his knowledge was. He recognized even the most obscure and complex ancient characters, and he could explain their origins and meanings. This left both Wu Tian Tian and Ding Wei in awe.

She was equally amazed. Sometimes, while listening to his explanations, she would lose focus, her eyes lingering on his beautiful widow’s peak and deep, expressive brows. One time, Zhao Peng happened to catch her staring and gleefully pointed it out to the others, whispering teasingly, “What’s going on between you two? Is it love at first sight? Little sister, your eyes are practically glued to Professor Xiao.”

This exposed her secret, causing everyone in the studio to laugh. Even Gao Han, who had been silently typing away, looked up and glanced over at them. Yin Mengxi was mortified, unable to speak as embarrassment overwhelmed her. But at that moment, he stepped in—

“It was me who suggested we get together,” he shifted slightly, either intentionally or unintentionally blocking the teasing gazes directed at her. “If you keep this up, she won’t dare come here anymore.”

What a considerate response.

He hadn’t lied—it was indeed he who had proposed they be together. But in truth, it was she who had fallen for him first, and she who had tried to express her feelings first. Yet he chose to protect her delicate and reserved heart, giving her dignity in front of others. He even seemed aware of her discomfort with being the center of attention, subtly shielding her with his body. She stole a glance at him, admiring the clean, beautiful lines of his shoulder blades.

—It wasn’t her fault, really.

This person… was just naturally easy to like.

After several days of hard work and under his guidance, she finally began to get the hang of things. She could now stumble through reading a passage of material and manage to process about thirty pages a day. By this time, it was nearing the end of August, and the new semester was about to begin. The quiet campus, dormant through summer break, gradually came alive again as students returned from all over the country.

Yin Mengxi’s roommates had also returned. Wang Xueru, with her sharp eyes, deduced from the water level in the dormitory’s water dispenser that Yin Mengxi must have returned at least half a month early. From this, she concluded that Yin had come back specifically to pursue her romance with Senior Xiao.

“I can’t believe this!” Wang Xueru dramatically covered her forehead with her hand. “By all that’s holy, last semester our dorm’s single rate was only fifty percent. Now look at us—three out of four! I always thought Mengxi, the乖乖女 (well-behaved girl), would be the last one to pair off!”

Ren Weiwei mercilessly mocked her, then turned to prod Yin Mengxi into sharing the details of her romance with Xiao Zhi. Who wouldn’t be curious? It was like those classic questions on internet forums—”What’s it like to become the world’s richest person?” Not everyone could achieve that status, but everyone wanted to know how amazing it felt.

Yin Mengxi wasn’t adept at answering such questions. Despite being grilled by her roommates for hours, she failed to divulge anything juicy enough to satisfy their curiosity. Finally, Min Rui, impatient as ever, slammed the table and broadened the scope of the conversation, asking, “Just tell us straight—how far along are you two? Have you… you know?”

…You know?

Yin Mengxi blinked, completely baffled. Min Rui sighed inwardly, thinking, “This girl is hopeless,” and decided to simplify her question. “Fine, let me rephrase that. You’ve kissed, right? What’s it like kissing Xiao Zhi? Is he a good kisser?”

Kiss… kissing?

This time, Yin Mengxi understood, and her face turned beet red within seconds. Under the expectant stares of her three roommates, she frantically shook her head and waved her hands, stammering, “W-what are you talking about? Of course not… that hasn’t happened…”

This left the other three speechless, their jaws dropping in disbelief.

“Not possible, Mengxi…” Min Rui rubbed her temples, exasperated. “Which nunnery are you secretly practicing at? You’ve been dating for this long, and you haven’t even kissed yet?”

Author’s Note:

It’s on the agenda!