CTJM - 6

Chapter 6: Next Encounter

The next day, it was still raining.

Early spring in March and April was the most beautiful season of the year, but in City A, it coincided with the rainy season. The damp air carried a slight chill, leaving people feeling somewhat uneasy. Yet, the drizzle seemed particularly fitting for University A’s campus. As soon as the car entered the school gates, it felt like stepping into another world. Towering camphor trees spread their deep green canopies everywhere, and the misty rain transformed the surroundings into a beautiful storybook illustration.

“Teacher Yin, your school is so beautiful...”

Yao Anqi pressed her face against the car window, marveling at the scenery along the way. Occasionally, she complained about how her own university paled in comparison. Yin Mengxi responded with a faint smile, speaking very little. As the small building of the School of Liberal Arts came into view through the window, the temperature in her palms gradually cooled.

...A familiar nervousness.

She shook her head inwardly, unable to believe that after all these years, she still couldn’t escape the ambiguous shadows of the past. It had been a full seven years since she last saw him, yet he still had such an easy ability to affect her mood.

...How tiresome.

The office building of the School of Liberal Arts was located in a particularly quiet area.

It was an old structure, possibly built in the 1950s or 60s, and though it had been renovated, it still retained its ancient charm. It resembled a book that had been shelved for many years—though the dust had been carefully wiped from its cover, one glance revealed its age.

The semi-circular building embraced a small garden within its inner curve. Wisteria vines coiled along the long corridors, though the flowers had yet to bloom due to the season. Still, Yin Mengxi could vividly recall their full bloom—elegant shades of pinkish-purple that perfectly suited springtime, making it one of the most beloved spots on campus for couples to meet.

She lowered her head slightly, unlike Yao Anqi and Wei Chi, who were curiously looking around. She walked straight into the office building, registered at the security desk, and then proceeded a few steps further into the hall. Turning to Yao Anqi, she asked, “Which floor is the appointment?”

“Third floor, third floor,” Yao Anqi replied, visibly excited, her eyes sparkling. “Teacher Xiao said we can go directly to his office.”

Teacher Xiao...

Yin Mengxi nodded silently, a strange feeling stirring in her chest once again. She then led the two younger ones upstairs. The spiral staircase was heavy and ancient, each step seeming to echo through history.

“311... 311...”

The corridor was quiet and deep, with almost no sound except for Yao Anqi’s soft muttering as she checked room numbers on her phone. They circled halfway around the circular corridor and finally found Room 311 on the eastern side. A modest sign next to the door read “Associate Professor Xiao Zhi.”

The door was slightly ajar, and voices could be heard from inside—it seemed his students were there, a mix of boys and girls.

“The study of literati living in temples during the Northern and Southern Dynasties is an excellent topic, but I recommend you consult Teacher Jin for guidance...”

His voice drifted out softly, always clear and steady.

“...Or you can also approach Teacher Tao. He recently started a course on Buddhist social literature, which would be very helpful for your research.”

The student seemed reluctant, insisting they wanted Teacher Xiao to guide them. He appeared somewhat helpless but eventually said, “Then write a proposal first. I need to know roughly which direction you want to take.”

Once he relented, the student was delighted, as if being guided by him was something worth celebrating. He then turned to speak with the other students, recommending reference books with long, complicated titles. It was impressive how he remembered them all so clearly.

Yao Anqi stood outside, listening intently, marveling at Teacher Xiao’s knowledge. But Yin Mengxi was already accustomed to this—she knew him well. When it came to academics, he was always meticulously serious. Whether in the School of Liberal Arts’ resource room or the university library, he could always be found immersed in books.

How many books had he read?

Probably countless.

By the time she snapped out of her thoughts, the conversation inside the office had ended. Rustling sounds indicated the students were leaving. The door opened, and young girls emerged, chatting and laughing, many with faint blushes on their faces.

—Yes.

It was hard not to like him, wasn’t it?

His gaze followed soon after.

As the door opened, it landed on her, carrying a slight weight that made her heart sink. She took a deep breath, putting on the practiced polite demeanor she had rehearsed the night before, and forced herself to smile naturally. But when her eyes met his, those valley-breeze-like eyes, the corners of her mouth involuntarily stiffened—a minor imperfection.

“Teacher Xiao—”

Yao Anqi was the first to speak, ushering the students out before stepping boldly into the room. She extended her hand warmly to Xiao Zhi, saying, “Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to accept our interview. We truly appreciate it and are grateful for your effort.”

He was a gentle person, especially toward younger individuals. True to form, he shifted his gaze from Yin Mengxi to Yao Anqi, politely shaking her hand and responding in kind, “No trouble at all. You’ve worked hard as well.”

His voice was light and mild, contrasting sharply with his strong facial features.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door. Since the door was already open, everyone turned to see a male teacher, likely from administration. After nodding to everyone, he addressed Xiao Zhi, “Teacher Xiao, today’s filming will take place on the second floor of the Wen Tu Building. The venue has been prepared. Once you’ve coordinated with the TV station staff, let me know, and I’ll guide everyone over—there are student leaders assisting there as well.”

“Alright.” He nodded again.

With that, the administrative teacher left briskly, leaving the room momentarily silent—an awkward pause.

But today was different from yesterday. At least Yin Mengxi had mentally prepared herself to face him. Now, she could hold her ground. Taking two steps closer to him, she suppressed the inexplicable tension and bitterness in her heart, looked up, and said, “Then, Teacher Xiao, could you please confirm the interview outline? We should have sent it to you yesterday.”

“Teacher Xiao.”

This was a formal address unfamiliar to both of them. He looked down at her, his eyes shadowed.

“Alright,” he responded.

She exhaled softly, signaling Yao Anqi to retrieve the printed document and hand it to him. He accepted it and moved toward the desk to review it, saying beforehand, “Please, have a seat while I take a look.”

Yao Anqi nodded repeatedly, and Yin Mengxi followed suit, finding a spot to sit in the office. Only Wei Chi, finding the situation uninteresting—likely because it didn’t concern him—remained standing. Turning to Yin Mengxi, he said, “Sis, I’m going out for a smoke.”

Knowing he couldn’t sit still, Yin Mengxi nodded. He smiled at her and asked, “Are you thirsty? Should I bring you a coffee?”

There was a fundamental difference between eagerness and politeness. The young man didn’t know how to conceal his intentions—or perhaps didn’t want to—and it was easy to see through him—he was trying to court her.

“No need,” Yin Mengxi replied indifferently. “If you can find the Wen Tu Building, go ahead and set up the equipment first.”

“Got it.”

Wei Chi agreed, paying no heed to etiquette. Without even acknowledging Xiao Zhi, the host, he walked out, his lack of manners leaving an awkward impression.

“I’m sorry,” Yin Mengxi felt compelled to apologize on Wei Chi’s behalf. “He really lacks proper manners...”

It was as though she felt responsible for him.

“It’s fine.”

Xiao Zhi glanced at her indifferently, then lowered his eyes to review the interview outline they had handed him, saying nothing more.

The office fell silent again. He had always possessed this kind of quieting influence—when he didn’t speak, the environment around him naturally calmed, as if everything and everyone had to fall in line with his stillness.

He was excessively handsome, especially when he looked down at something with his thin eyelids and long lashes, resembling an expensive, meticulously crafted painting. She silently observed him, her mind drifting back to the second time she had seen him.

It was the second week of school, a certain noon, on the small food street behind the campus. She and her three roommates had gone out for a group outing. Three of them were from the south, so they chose a Yunnan restaurant known for its light flavors to try steam-pot chicken. The shop had excellent reviews and was frequented mostly by students.

As soon as she walked in, she saw him sitting by the window, surrounded by a few male companions who were likely his friends. He was looking down at the menu, and the September sunlight bathed his features, making him appear particularly gentle and warm.

Her heart immediately began to race. The inexplicable unease she had felt during their first meeting at orientation returned, gripping her once again. She didn’t know why she felt both reluctant to approach him and yet inexplicably drawn to him.

Without drawing attention to herself, she casually guided her roommates to sit at the table behind him. As they sat down, Wang Xueru, who slept in the bunk below hers, whispered excitedly, “Did you see? At that table next to us—there’s a guy who’s so handsome—”

She heard it all and, for some reason, felt a faint sense of pride. Though he had nothing to do with her, she couldn’t help but feel proud, though she didn’t quite understand why.

For the entire meal, she ate distractedly. The taste of the steam-pot chicken left no impression on her memory, but she remembered every word spoken at their table—

“What about Wu Sisi from the foreign languages department? Isn’t she pursuing you?”

She heard one of the boys teasing him.

“Wu Sisi? Who’s that?” another boy chimed in eagerly. “Is she the one who looks super innocent?”

“No, that’s the girl from the sociology department,” another voice interjected. “Wu Sisi is the spicy one.”

They bantered back and forth, occasionally laughing mockingly—a conversation that made even other girls uncomfortable.

Only he remained silent, showing no interest in such topics. She felt an inexplicable sense of relief, convinced that he was indeed different.

But—

“Come on, what Wu Sisi? A random girl can’t compete with a childhood sweetheart,” one of his friends declared loudly. “Tang Fei is right there watching. With the ‘main wife’ standing there, who else stands a chance?”

Ah.

Childhood sweetheart?

Tang Fei?

Main wife?

The breath she had just managed to release tightened again, this time even more intensely. It was as if she had been touched by an invisible needle, a subtle discomfort spreading irrationally. The initial note was confusion, the middle note pain, and the final note bewilderment.

“That’s all the questions, right?”

Lost in thought, he suddenly spoke, pulling her abruptly out of her memories. Seven years later, Teacher Xiao replaced Senior Xiao in front of her, gazing at her with those strikingly beautiful eyes.

“How long do you expect to film? Will an hour be enough?”