Chapter 51: Overtime

After returning from the museum, Yin Mengxi threw herself into her work with even greater determination.

In essence, her major created a natural barrier between her way of thinking and Xiao Zhi’s. Journalism was inherently forward-looking, while ancient literature always looked to the past. The core approaches to problem-solving in social sciences and humanities also differed significantly. In truth, it was hard for her to truly think about the world in the same way he did.

...Yet she desperately wanted to help him in some way.

His aspirations were grand—to influence many people’s entrenched beliefs and change a societal cultural reality. At the same time, they were modest—he simply wished for the things he loved to be appreciated by more people and for those working in the field not to lose heart. She could sense his sincerity and purity. If possible, she hoped all his wishes could come true.

As a result, she devoted more and more energy to the project.

She worked hard to improve her efficiency in reviewing ancient texts, gradually increasing her daily output from 30 pages to 50. On days when her classes were packed, she would voluntarily work overtime, often sneaking books back to her dorm to read. She also changed how she participated in the project. Previously, she had quietly followed the seniors’ instructions, but now she actively thought about ways to optimize the project—she had already identified some specific points and was currently refining them. Once her plan matured, she intended to present it at their group meeting and see what everyone thought.

This was no easy feat.

Sophomore year was already a demanding time for undergraduates, and this semester she had taken 31 credits’ worth of courses. Additionally, she hadn’t yet stepped down from her role at the university’s Youth League Committee, where she was still involved in numerous interviews and promotional tasks. These two responsibilities alone consumed most of her energy. By now, she essentially had no leisure time. Her days were filled with one task after another, and her only relaxation was eating meals or taking walks with her boyfriend.

That day, she attended a large meeting at the Youth League Committee office. The department was preparing an annual review of club activities, and the meeting ran from nine to ten-thirty. Afterward, Jia Yi specifically pulled her aside to ask why she hadn’t submitted her application for the position of department head.

“Oh, that…” Yin Mengxi sheepishly touched her nose. “Jia Yi, I’m not applying this year.”

“Not applying?” Xu Jiayi’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“I just don’t have enough energy…” Yin Mengxi explained.

“Xixi, you really need to think this through,” Xu Jiayi earnestly began persuading her. “Your work on last semester’s theater production was outstanding—Teacher Sun specifically praised you. If you apply, you’re almost guaranteed to get the position. You know there are bonus points for being a department head, right? It makes a big difference compared to being just a member—it’ll help you with scholarships too.”

“I know, Jia Yi,” Yin Mengxi pursed her lips. “But I really don’t have the energy this academic year. Even if I became head, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my duties well, and it would make things harder for everyone working with me… I’d rather not take up the position.”

“Oh, you…” Xu Jiayi looked even more anxious than her. “It’s such a pity. You worked so hard last semester…”

A pity?

Perhaps a little. After all, it was a line on her resume… But upon reflection, she realized she had gained much more. At the very least, she now understood the process of producing a play, earned recognition from many teachers and seniors—and even found a boyfriend.

“It’s okay,” Yin Mengxi smiled, her dimples faintly visible. “I’ve been really happy.”

Leaving the office with her colleagues, she spotted Xiao Zhi standing under a streetlamp as soon as they exited the building. His tall figure was strikingly clear and handsome—had he come to pick her up? He hadn’t mentioned it beforehand.

Her eyes immediately lit up, like a rabbit perking up its ears. Though she desperately wanted to run to him, she maintained decorum and politely said goodbye to her classmates. Everyone was considerate, letting her go when they saw her eagerness. Standing at the entrance, Xu Jiayi watched as the Senior Xiao, whom she usually only saw on the school media website, held his girlfriend’s hand and walked away. She sighed wistfully, remarking, “Goodness… If it were me, I wouldn’t apply either. Isn’t dating every day wonderful?”

“Why did you come to pick me up? Have you been waiting long?”

Yin Mengxi was still brimming with excitement over the surprise. Her steps beside her boyfriend were practically bouncing.

“Not long, just a little while,” he smiled down at her, omitting the fact that he had waited over half an hour. “Watch your step.”

She nearly tripped over a stone, but he caught her in time. Smiling sweetly, she took his hand, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at him.

“Let’s hurry back to the studio,” she tugged at his arm after holding his hand for a bit. “Otherwise the seniors will tease us again…”

He chuckled, habitually reaching out to pat her head. “No need today. It’s already half past ten.”

No need?

Her brows furrowed, slightly worried. “Why not? It’s only half past ten… Our curfew isn’t until midnight.”

“You’re too tired. You should rest,” he sighed, seemingly disapproving of her naivety. “Go back and relax for a bit, or sleep early.”

“Relax for a bit…”

…It felt like he was treating her like a child.

“I’m really not tired…” she pouted, her face puffing up indignantly. “And if I don’t go, I’ll fall behind on the progress. Won’t that make the next few days even harder?”

Their work was quantified, with a daily quota. If she didn’t complete today’s portion, the backlog would accumulate and become even harder to manage later.

“I’ll take over part of your work tomorrow,” he remained unmoved. “Consider today a day off.”

—How could that possibly work?

The amount of material he had to review daily was several times hers. On top of that, he had to coordinate page logic with the technical team, write papers, and publish articles as a graduate student. All told, he was far busier than her.

“No way,” she refused, shaking his arm. “Let me go. Just one hour is fine…”

Even her coquettish pleading didn’t work. In the end, he escorted her back to her dormitory. When they parted downstairs, she kept pouting, which made him laugh. Fortunately, no one was around, so he leaned down and gave her a light kiss. While she was still dazed, he seized the opportunity to coax her: “Go up. See you tomorrow.”

…And just like that, she was brainwashed.

Dazedly, she climbed the stairs, washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed. Only then did she realize she had given in far too easily. Reflecting on it further, she grew increasingly frustrated. After stewing for fifteen minutes, she got up, changed back into her clothes, grabbed her backpack, and headed out. Ren Weiwei teased her, asking if she planned to stay out overnight.

—Oh no, definitely not.

It was five minutes to eleven. She could only work for an hour.

The comprehensive building was pitch-black at night.

Using her phone’s flashlight, she finally managed to find her way to the second floor. The quiet hallway was eerie, prompting her to scurry into the studio. Turning on the lights brightened the space considerably. The warm overhead lighting and a desk lamp she turned on provided ample illumination.

Pulling out a chair, setting down her bag, she checked the work log and matched it against today’s progress. Then she went to the wall to retrieve materials. After rummaging for a while, she hauled the stack back to her seat, opened the book, and started recording on her laptop. Ten minutes had already slipped away.

Then it was just heads-down work.

She was already exhausted. After a full day, her mind wasn’t sharp, and the vertical layout of the text was particularly challenging, making her head ache.

“In this dynasty, Dingzhou white porcelain was deemed unusable due to its rough edges, so the emperor ordered the production of Ru celadon ware. Thus, Hebei, Tang, Deng, and Yaozhou all produced it, with Ru kiln being the finest…” (1)

Word by word, she painstakingly transcribed the entire passage. Just as she was fully engrossed, she suddenly heard footsteps at the door, startling her. Looking up nervously, she saw a familiar figure walk in. Upon noticing her, he frowned.

“Why did you still come…” Xiao Zhi sighed again. “Didn’t we just send you back?”

Ah.

…Why was he here?

He had changed his clothes, wearing something different from earlier when he dropped her off at the dorm. His hair was slightly damp, indicating he had just showered—so he had returned to his dorm to shower before the hot water cut off at eleven?

And then he came back to the studio… Was he silently working overtime alone just to help her catch up on the workload?

“Aren’t you also back?” Yin Mengxi didn’t know what to say, sighing like him. “You tricked me, saying you’d help me tomorrow, but instead, you’re working overtime tonight…”

They both found it amusing, laughing softly at each other. His features softened under the warm glow of the studio lights late at night, looking especially captivating.

“Where did you leave off?” He stopped trying to dissuade her, pulling a chair next to hers and sitting beside her. “Let’s split the work.”

She loved being close to him, unconsciously leaning closer as she held the book. “Tan Zhai Bi Heng , here.”

Her slender fingers pointed to the specific paragraph.

He hummed in acknowledgment. Perhaps because he had just showered, she could smell the clean scent emanating from him—light yet intoxicating, a contradictory blend.

…She liked it so much.

“What are you staring at me for?”

Lost in thought, she heard his teasing voice, low and tinged with amusement. She blushed uncontrollably, her cheek nearly brushing against his shoulder.

“I wasn’t staring the whole time…” she murmured shyly, lowering her gaze. “…Just a little.”

He chuckled again, his warm breath sending her heart racing. Then he said, “I thought you had something to tell me.”

His tone was subtle. She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her. Feeling flustered, the little rabbit tried to save face by changing the subject. After a moment, she said, “Actually, I do have something to say—something serious.”

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly in a good mood, resting his hand on the table and turning to look at her. “Then say it.”

What?

Clearly, he didn’t believe her.

“It’s about the project,” she said, slightly indignant, sitting up straighter to bolster her confidence. “I have a proposal to optimize the content logic.”

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Author’s Note:

(1) Quoted from Tan Zhai Bi Heng by Ye Zhi of the Southern Song Dynasty.