TIL - 5

At noon, Wen Huo received a letter from Shen Cheng. The light-textured envelope had “Wen Huo” written on it. Such graceful, powerful brushstrokes, no one but him could write them.

She opened the envelope; it was a ticket for the public lecture, two of them.

She hadn’t told Shen Cheng she wanted two, but Shen Cheng just knew to give her two. He understood everything.

Wen Huo placed the tickets on Qiu Mingyun’s desk and headed to the institute.

The professor who was supposed to give the lecture had taken leave, so the scheduled afternoon seminar was entrusted to a researcher from the Chinese Academy of Sciences.

Wen Huo attended such American-style seminars twice a week, two fewer than her fellow students. She wasn’t particularly fond of this interactive teaching method; she preferred listening or thinking.

Half an hour before the seminar began, Wen Huo was already in place, sitting in a relatively secluded spot, working on formulas. Occasionally, she’d make small contemplative gestures like frowning or tilting her head.

The second person to enter was a male student from another group in the institute, who had previously collaborated with the researcher who would be leading the course.

Wen Huo and he nodded to each other, a silent greeting.

After a while, the researcher entered. He glanced at the few people present, smiled, and said, “You’re quite early. I thought since the professor wasn’t coming, you’d all lose interest.”

All nine people were present. The researcher began his opening remarks, directly bypassing the topic and telling a love story: “Does anyone know the love story of Feynman and Arline, who vindicated gravitational waves?”

Richard Feynman was a brilliant physicist, and his discoveries continue to help later generations win Nobel Prizes in Physics.

He painstakingly pursued his wife, Arline Greenbaum, only to have his faith shattered when, just as things were finally looking up, Arline was suddenly struck by illness. Fortunately, love didn’t die; they wrote a magnificent drama.

When Arline passed away, he didn’t shed a single tear until he later saw a dress in a shop and immediately broke down, tears streaming down his face.

Only then was he finally willing to admit that the person he loved most was no longer there.

That dress, which fit her so perfectly, could never be worn by her again.

Most physicists were familiar with Feynman’s achievements, but only knew superficial details about his love life. Even Wen Huo, being a woman, didn’t know the full story. Surprisingly, the male student who entered after Wen Huo did.

His voice was soft, somewhat relaxed, and his narrative captivated the “iron” (people) present like a magnet.

The researcher used his narrative to gradually transition to the topic, making for a beautiful opening. The success of the opening meant it would be a smooth and fruitful class.

Soon, the seminar began perfectly and ended perfectly. The nine people politely said their goodbyes and left in their respective directions.

Wen Huo only checked her phone after stepping out and saw a barrage of voice messages from Qiu Mingyun. She called her back.

Qiu Mingyun answered instantly: “You’re amazing! How did you get these tickets?”

Wen Huo truthfully replied: “I got them from someone.”

Qiu Mingyun “kissed” her several times over the phone: “What are we eating tonight? My treat! Order anything within five hundred yuan!”

Wen Huo hadn’t had hotpot with her in a long time: “Hotpot, maybe? Where are you now? I’ll come find you, and we can buy ingredients at the supermarket.”

Qiu Mingyun was still with her boyfriend and hesitated for a moment, not committing immediately.

Wen Huo understood: “Then call me when you’re done.”

Qiu Mingyun responded: “Mm.”

After hanging up, Wen Huo checked the time. It was 4:30 PM. She could still go to the library and read literature for an hour. Just as she was about to leave, that somewhat relaxed voice called out to her: “Wen Huo.”

Wen Huo turned around.

The boy walked up and picked up the rabbit charm that had fallen off her bag.

Wen Huo thanked him and took it.

The boy noticed that whenever she appeared, she was always so calm, neither striving nor competing, and he was very curious how such a girl managed to get published in PRL. He formally introduced himself: “Wu Guo.”

Wen Huo nodded: “Hello.”

Wu Guo asked her: “Are you free tonight? Can I treat you to dinner?”

Wen Huo politely declined: “I have plans.”

Wu Guo took a book, Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, from his bag and said, “Liang Gongsheng lent this to you before. He didn’t tell you it was mine when he lent it to you. You returned it to him, which made me, the owner, feel a bit wronged.”

Wen Huo glanced at the cover, indeed it was a book a senior student had lent her before. She looked up and said: “So what do you want?”

Wu Guo smiled, his eyelashes covering his eyes, looking delicate and refined: “Let me treat you to dinner. I’d like to get some tips on your daily routine.”

Wen Huo’s daily routine mostly involved focusing on theoretical work; there wasn’t much to learn from: “If you treat me to dinner, it’s just putting me in your debt again. Is this so you can find another excuse to make me treat you next time? Senior, aren’t you a bit too clever?”

Wu Guo was taken aback, then chuckled. Her mind worked so fast. “Alright then, no dinner. How about we share an ice cream cone? By the East Gate.”

And so, Wu Guo bought Wen Huo an ice cream cone, which coincidentally was seen by Shen Cheng.

As Wen Huo ate the ice cream cone, she had no idea what awaited her. She only felt a sense of unease, as if some fear was approaching her. Fortunately, the storm arrived quickly and fiercely, so she didn’t linger in unknown dread for too long.

*https://www.google.com/search?q=hpo8.com

Qiu Mingyun and her boyfriend parted ways after 6 PM. She quickly called Wen Huo, said some nice words, and then arranged to meet at the supermarket.

Shopping was a rare diversion in their monotonous study lives, so they usually showed immense talent at such times, always managing to buy the most valuable items for the cheapest price.

Back in the dorm, the two divided the tasks of washing vegetables, chopping vegetables, and preparing the hotpot base. Half an hour later, they sat at opposite sides of the folding table.

Qiu Mingyun poured Wen Huo a glass of vodka, mixed with a little Red Bull, and through the thick steam, said: “I thought Professor Shen would cancel this lecture because of his grandmother.”

Wen Huo took a small sip of her drink and said nothing.

Qiu Mingyun sighed: “Did Han Bailu’s ancestral graves smoke with good fortune? Why could she, an eighteen-line drama queen constantly embroiled in scandals with various actors, have Professor Shen?”

“Perhaps they’re soulmates?”

“Oh, please, I’m going to vomit. Is Professor Shen’s taste that bad?”

Qiu Mingyun still remembered the news that Han Bailu had been pregnant with a director’s child. She had just picked up her phone, ready to search for old posts online, when her boyfriend sent her a message: “Let’s break up, Sister Yun.”

Chapter 5

She put down her chopsticks.

Wen Huo sensed the atmosphere was off. When she looked up, Qiu Mingyun’s tears were already falling. When it came to crying over her boyfriend, she never needed a rehearsal.

Wen Huo put down her chopsticks, got a tissue box, and handed it to her, watching her frantically dial her boyfriend’s number.

In the past, no matter how much conflict she had with her boyfriend, she would always avoid Wen Huo, not wanting her negative emotions to affect her. But this time, she couldn’t help it.

The call connected. She first wiped away her tears, then tentatively asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

The dorm room was very quiet, and the voice on the other end of the phone was so clear: “The perfume you bought me was fake? Do you know I was laughed at by my colleagues for half a day because of this fake perfume? How could you be so vicious?”

Qiu Mingyun became more anxious: “No, it’s not. I asked a friend to buy it for me, it was even more expensive than the counter price, how could it be fake? That’s impossible.”

“Alright, stop talking. We’re not suitable. You can’t even buy a perfume properly, how can I spend my life with you?”

Qiu Mingyun burst into tears: “You’re breaking up with me just because of this? Or have you already planned this? Is the perfume just an excuse? Tell me, have you already planned this? Huh? Gu Xuanyu, have you?”

“I said, because we’re not suitable, the perfume you bought...”

Qiu Mingyun didn’t let him finish: “The shoes you gave me never fit, and I climbed mountains with you, my feet swollen. Do you think that’s suitable?

“You flirted on Instagram, with married women, and even your company boss. When you got caught, your company didn’t care. I stayed up several nights writing clarification statements for you, terrified that a single word written wrong would give someone leverage. I took out loans to buy water armies for you. I switched countless accounts to fight black fans and control comments for you. Then I comforted those girlfriend-fans and wife-fans in your fan groups, encouraging them to keep doing data work. Do you think that’s suitable?

“When I lost my first child, you told me that was the last time, and you cried like an idiot, and I, damn it, believed you! Gu Xuanyu, I, damn it, believed you! Then the second time, the third time, do you think that’s suitable?

“You told your brothers in your group that you wanted to make me unable to get pregnant, saying that’s what a man should do. Your brothers said you went too far, not acting like a man. You said I wasn’t worthy. Now you’re saying we’re not suitable?

“I’m a top student from Tsinghua, from a good family, and not ugly. I, damn it, wasted two years on you. I thought I could wait for you to change, and now you’ve just signed a web drama and you’re going to kick me away, is that it? You can do it, Gu Xuanyu!”

...

Wen Huo couldn’t hear the voice on the other end anymore; it seemed the call had ended, but Qiu Mingyun didn’t stop, still talking. She was so wronged, but it seemed what wronged her most wasn’t what she had done for him, but that he still abandoned her.

The vodka Wen Huo had drunk earlier seemed to be getting to her. She leaned against the wall, watching Qiu Mingyun’s hoarse cries, suddenly feeling stifled.

She took out her phone, opened Shen Cheng’s WeChat, and typed a few words: “I received the tickets.”

Her finger hovered over the send button for a long time, finally deleting it and changing it to: “Professor Shen, do you know about the love story of Richard Feynman and Arline Greenbaum?”

After sending it, she regretted it. The message seemed a bit silly and out of the blue, so she recalled it. But Shen Cheng had already seen it and replied: “Feynman remarried and had children.”

“Do you always have to remain sober?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Mm.”

Shen Cheng seemed to have cameras installed on her: “How much did you drink?”

Wen Huo pursed her lips: “Not much.”

“Was Feynman discussed in class?”

“Mm.”

“Are you looking for me because you want to see me?”

“No.”

“Where are you now?”

“Dorm room.”