#5: Connections

After a brief distraction, Chu Ning refocused.

She quickly scanned through the projects and formed her initial judgment.

Guan Yu asked, “Which ones caught your eye?”

Chu Ning pointed to two. “These aren’t bad.”

One was related to road engineering, the other to fiber optic cables. Both had limited profit margins but were stable and conservative—precisely the type of projects Chu Ning excelled at. Guan Yu filled her teacup with clear tea. “The last one is pretty good too. Just the name sounds high-end.”

She was referring to the C Hang project.

Chu Ning’s tone was dismissive, but her attitude was decisive. “That type of project, don’t even think about it.” She enthusiastically returned to the two projects she had just selected. “In Tongzhou? I can find a few acquaintances here, which will make things easier.”

Her eyes gleamed when discussing money. Guan Yu pursed her lips, unsure whether this was a good or bad sign.

Originally, she thought this matter would fade away like passing clouds, unworthy of further mention. Unexpectedly, that evening, Chu Ning received a call from Feng Zi Yang.

“You didn’t choose the C Hang project?”

Chu Ning had just finished bathing and was dressed in comfortable loungewear, her figure subtly outlined. Her hair was tied up into a bun, adorned with a bunny ear headband. Hearing his question, she set down the quotation sheet in her hand. “Why does Guan Yu tell you everything?”

“I think you should consider it,” Feng Zi Yang replied, unusually serious.

“Why?”

“I like it.”

“Go away.”

Feng Zi Yang’s laughter hadn’t yet faded. “Just kidding, don’t hang up. Ning, I’m serious. This is a great project. New technology, broad prospects, high-end and grand—it suits you perfectly.”

Chu Ning leaned back, relaxing her entire body, slowly articulating each word. “What new technology? Broad prospects? That’s just one pit after another. It may sound good, but don’t talk about throwing money in—even if you throw yourself in, not a single sapling will grow by tomorrow.”

On the other end, Feng Zi Yang hesitated, wanting to retort but unable to utter a single word.

Chu Ning scratched the bunny ears on her headband, dissatisfied. “I feel like you’ve been getting a bit cocky lately.”

“...”

“Are you colluding with Zhao Mingchuan, deliberately setting me up for these traps?”

Feng Zi Yang shouted in protest. “Do you think your brother would look at me twice?”

True enough. Zhao Mingchuan’s standards were no exaggeration; they rivaled those of the Jade Emperor himself. Chu Ning yawned lazily. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I’m hanging up.”

________________________________________

Three days had passed since Professor Li Zhoushan handed Ying Jing the project proposal.

In fact, that night after returning to the dormitory, Ying Jing had skimmed through it briefly. However, it was too long, and midway through—he fell asleep. When he woke up, he forgot all about it. As a result, the next day, when Li Zhoushan stopped him right after a half-court basketball game, asking how his consideration was going—

Sweaty, blood boiling, still immersed in the intense game, Ying Jing, with an entire ice cream stick stuffed in his mouth, cheeks puffed out, retorted, “What consideration are you talking about?”

Li Zhoushan’s face turned the color of soybean paste as he angrily turned and walked away.

Realizing his mistake, Ying Jing took off running after him. “Professor Li, Professor Li!”

He ran so fast he nearly tripped. After stumbling several steps to regain his balance, he accidentally loosened his grip—the person didn’t fall, but the half-eaten mung bean ice cream flew out like it had grown eyes, hitting Professor Li Zhoushan squarely on the top of his head.

Then came the thunderous roar echoing through the hallway: “You! Little! Bastard!”

It was over.

Ying Jing clasped his hands together, almost kneeling to kowtow, but Li Zhoushan had no interest in his apology. Without another word, he stormed off angrily.

Though it was an accident, Ying Jing’s remorse was genuine. Back in the dormitory, he first sent a text apologizing to Li Zhoushan, but there was no reply. For lunch, he ate three bowls of rice but didn’t feel hungry. In the afternoon, several groups of people came to check on him, none failing to tease or admire him.

“You missed the chance to become the spokesperson for mung bean ice cream.”

“Interested in failing your finals?”

“Congratulations, you’ll forever be the unforgettable white moonlight in Professor Li’s heart.”

Ying Jing chewed on bubblegum, listening to their friendly banter.

“By the way, have you heard? Old Li got into a big argument with Vice Dean Tan last time.” Cheng Yihan from the neighboring dorm suddenly brought up the topic.

“Really? I thought it was just a rumor.”

“It’s true. I was filling out forms on the third floor at the time. The shouting was loud.” The chubby class monitor provided evidence, mysteriously beckoning them closer. “Apparently, Old Li wanted to secure an external recommendation slot for a project, but Vice Dean Tan disagreed, wanting to allocate all the slots to the aerospace design major, claiming they had better chances.”

The lively atmosphere in the dormitory instantly quieted.

After a while, Cheng Yihan said, “The school being biased isn’t a one-time thing.”

Voices of indignation rose one after another. “They’re the top-tier majors. Ugh, I regret it so much.”

Ying Jing, who had been silent, suddenly looked up. “Why regret?”

His tone was calm, his gaze indifferent yet direct, appearing non-aggressive but somehow making the speaker uneasy.

Ying Jing didn’t react much, quickly lowering his head as if talking to himself. “I think we’re pretty good too.”

Qi Yu, sitting at the desk reading, turned his head and agreed, “Yeah, pretty good.”

A few words of agreement, though lacking specific reasoning. Perhaps years later, flipping through the pages of time, a single sentence might describe this moment—”Having endured the hardships of studying together, how could we willingly admit defeat?”

The atmosphere fell silent again.

The chubby class monitor steered the conversation back to Li Zhoushan. “Although Professor Li is strict, he’s actually a good person. This incident can be seen as him standing up for our major.”

“He seems to live alone. I’ve never seen Mrs. Li.”

“Shh—” Cheng Yihan lowered his voice. “Professor Li divorced his wife a long time ago. His daughter wasn’t awarded to him either.”

This time, there was a collective silence, with no one speaking.

Ying Jing felt suffocated, exhaling deeply as he got up and walked out.

Qi Yu called after him, “Where are you going?”

The door had already closed tightly.

Night fell, cradling the faint moonlight. Ying Jing originally intended to go out and buy an ice cream, but as he walked, his feet seemed to follow a dog’s nose, leading him to the faculty dormitory.

Two years ago, the staff welfare housing complex was completed, and most had moved there. The old buildings in the southwest corner weren’t idle, but only a few people lived there, including Li Zhoushan. Ying Jing didn’t know where he lived, but only three or four lights were on in the entire building. He decided to start searching from the lower floors.

The building was old, inevitably showing signs of wear.

The stairwell was pitch black. Ying Jing stomped his foot, but the light didn’t turn on. Summoning his courage, he shouted—”Hoo hey!”

… Apparently, it wasn’t very cooperative.

Ying Jing groped his way upstairs to the second floor, peeking through the lit windows. The first household was Li Zhoushan’s.

The house was a simple two-bedroom, sparsely furnished, with a single overhead light. The dining table was against the wall, and Li Zhoushan sat there, his back facing the door. The room was exceptionally quiet, the TV off. Alone, he bent his head, eating noodles.

Through the window, it resembled a framed scene with old memories, the night serving as a backdrop, amplifying the loneliness.

Li Zhoushan choked on the noodle soup, one hand covering his mouth as he coughed violently, the other reaching for tissues beside him. Next to the tissues lay several boxes of cold medicine. He missed his aim, knocking over a glass cup, which shattered loudly upon impact.

Li Zhoushan frowned, seemingly cursing under his breath, then bent over laboriously to clean up.

Ying Jing quickly hid behind the wall, standing straight against it.

A gust of wind swept across his face, nose, and eyes, resonating with the deep autumn night.

Ying Jing felt a tightness in his chest and turned to descend the stairs.

Ying Jing returned directly to the dormitory. Those who had gathered earlier had already dispersed.

“Where did you go?” Qi Yu lifted his head from his textbook to see someone frantically rummaging through drawers.

“Take a look.” Ying Jing tossed what he found to him.

Qi Yu was perplexed, glancing at the cover. “What’s this?”

Ying Jing was completely calm. “The project proposal. You and I will work on it together.”

Young people acted with passion and enthusiasm.

That night, they created a plan list.

The next day, they supplemented and expanded it.

The third day, they started coding, creating basic simulation graphics.

With fervor and energy, Ying Jing didn’t feel tired at all. His only complaint was that the rice portion of every takeout order was too small—he was still hungry after eating two boxes.

On the fourth day, Li Zhoushan stared at Ying Jing, whose severe lack of sleep made the dark circles under his eyes almost reach his chest, shocked.

“How many days did it take you?”

“Four days, with Qi Yu.”

Li Zhoushan remained silent for a long while before pulling out a new box of calming brain tonic from his drawer and handing it over.

“...”

C Hang University had one external recommendation slot for a school-enterprise collaboration project each year. As a prestigious institution, the value of this slot was self-evident. If it could attract corporate funding support, even producing academic research results would be a solid achievement in undergraduate studies. This bonus would become a standout credential in graduate school applications and job interviews.

This slot always went to the aerospace design major.

As the flagship major and the school’s pride, receiving support was expected.

Ying Jing’s aerospace engine major, however, had minimal presence.

Almost everyone assumed they would have no hope of securing the recommendation slot this time. Even Ying Jing himself treated it as a bizarre assignment, expecting nothing more than a grade from the teacher and moving on.

But the day before the enterprise meeting, the school notified them—they were allowed to participate.

The unexpected news hit too suddenly. Ying Jing almost went to buy emergency heart pills. Excitedly, he told Li Zhoushan, only for the latter to respond with extreme calmness, a single “oh” chillingly dismissive: “Don’t get your hopes up. Just gain some experience and practice your courage.”

This bucket of cold water...

No matter, people without thermal pants endure the cold well. Ying Jing still harbored his enthusiasm, burning like waves, wishing to drown himself in them.

This incident caused quite a stir in the department, bringing a sense of vindication and finally stepping into the spotlight. Soon, his fan group went online with the slogan “Crashing walls for you.” Meanwhile, the flight design side, having played the role of “favorite concubine” for years, rolled countless eyes.

For a time, the two factions clashed with the force of colliding planets.

The “favorite concubine” declared—

“With innate pride, don’t put on airs in front of me.”

The “new favorite” retorted—

“The road is long, don’t be too arrogant. Who knows who will shine in life.”

Oh please, newcomers, give us a break!

“Know your priorities. Today, I’ll teach you how to write the character ‘服’ (yield).”

The little Jing fanbase scoffed:

“Among millions of Chinese sons and daughters, whoever backs down is a turtle.”

Amidst the chaos, Ying Jing remained uniquely clear-headed. He researched etiquette for formal occasions, attire, and spent half a month’s living expenses on a proper black suit.

This was his first time.

Ying Jing was tall, and while it wasn’t noticeable usually, in formal attire, he appeared armored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow hips. His white shirt collar neatly folded, the boyish charm cleverly receded, blending into refinement and handsomeness.

Facing the mirror, he suddenly smiled, his eyes catching the light—

Like stars.

________________________________________

On the day of the conference, the send-off scene for Ying Jing was rather grand. Unaware observers might have mistaken it for a procession to the execution grounds. There was a designated faculty escort, a Buick business van carrying two teams.

Each team eyed the other with disdain, harboring thoughts akin to “where did this wild monkey come from, stealing our livelihood.” The wild monkey, however, remained relaxed, even taking out his phone to play “Jump Jump.”

But this confidence didn’t last long. Upon arriving at the venue, they realized it was quite large. Heroes from all walks of life, dressed in suits, elegantly carried briefcases, chatting and laughing with insiders.

Ying Jing and Qi Yu, like two grasshoppers walking into a kaleidoscope, looked around bewildered. More importantly, the aerospace design group was the school’s key recommendation, with the escorting teacher busy introducing them everywhere, clearly well-acquainted.

“Don’t panic, stay calm,” Qi Yu whispered.

“Ah,” Ying Jing sighed, softly saying, “I should have bought the more expensive suit.”

“... Is this one not expensive enough?” Qi Yu asked.

Ying Jing glanced left and right, tugging at the hem of his suit. “Expensive as hell, but I feel the style isn’t slim-fitting enough.”

“You’re not a woman, why bother with a slim fit?”

“Wanted to be sexy.”

“...”

Of course, in such settings, especially for newcomers, no matter how straight their backs or cautious their demeanor, their slightly awkward and timid aura couldn’t fool anyone. These two youngsters carried a touch of rustic simplicity.

At 1 PM, they entered the venue and took their seats.

With ten minutes to spare before the start, those in business never wasted any opportunity to expand their network. Immediately, front, back, left, and right resembled a large family reunion scene.

“Are you from Yongfeng? Long admired, long admired.”

“Polite, polite. Your Chairman Xu had tea with our President Zhang last time. I’ve seen your project—it’s an excellent project, rare indeed!”

“Where, where. Yours is also a masterpiece. Eh, is it already decided?”

Sensitive topics arose, and the other party immediately adopted a “oh dear, let’s pretend we’re not related” attitude, brushing it off with a fake smile.

Ying Jing secretly admired their acting skills!

Representatives from various capital parties gradually entered through the door.

Most were men, making Chu Ning, clad in a white suit ensemble, stand out even more. Her tailored blazer and high heels accentuated her already tall frame, exuding an air of elegance.

Behind her followed a secretary, equally unsmiling.

Engrossed in conversation, many didn’t notice the commotion. A man nearby tried to cozy up to Ying Jing. “This handsome young man, which company are you from?”

Ying Jing’s gaze was stuck, still fixed on Chu Ning.

Chu Ning glanced over, catching him red-handed.

Without hesitation, Ying Jing grinned at her.

From afar, Chu Ning’s expression was hard to define. Her smooth brow momentarily furrowed imperceptibly upon their eyes meeting.

The guy beside him was sharp, immediately asking, “Oh, do you know President Ning?”

Unconsciously straightening his back, Ying Jing smoothly applied his newly learned social skills. “More than just knowing her.”

The elongated “ah” at the end curled into a fox-like tail.

This social climber’s attitude instantly turned fawning, eagerly pulling out his business card. “Thought so! You look so familiar! Now I remember—I’ve seen you many times at President Ning’s place!”

Ying Jing’s heart swelled inexplicably. “Connections”—such a useful term—

Made him feel oh-so-sexy.