Qiu Yun didn’t know why Liang He wanted to read *Classical Mechanics*; she only knew that several of her gourmet meals had vanished into thin air.
A phrase came to mind: *The cooked duck has flown away.* Exactly—a delicious Quanjude roast duck, no, several of them, were gone.
What was Liang He thinking, meddling in their dormitory’s book-buying? And those three roommates of hers—why did they have to put on such a front? There was no need to try so hard to suck up to a teacher. Didn't they know she was still growing and needed good food?
She walked along with little enthusiasm until Wang Chen came up and threw an arm around her shoulder, offering a grinning consolation. "Xiao Yun, my dear Xiao Yun, don't be like that. Knowledge is spiritual food, too."
Qiu Yun looked at her pitifully, her frustration bubbling over. "I can practically see a golden-brown, glistening roast duck, fresh out of the oven and still steaming, flying away from my mouth toward the horizon until it disappears..."
Qiu Yun spoke with such vivid emotion that the other three felt their mouths water instantly.
"How about this," Wang Chen said, swallowing hard. "There are no classes tomorrow afternoon. I'll go home, grab some gear, buy some groceries, and we’ll have a feast—right in the dorm!"
When Qiu Yun was in university in her original time, she had never DIY-ed a meal at school. Firstly, she was a local from City A and could go home for better food; secondly, she lived in an era of material abundance where a street full of snacks sat right outside the school gates—one could eat for a month without repeating a dish. Of course, some classmates had used water dispensers to cook spicy hotpot in the dorms; it didn't taste great, but it was a fun novelty. When Wang Chen made the suggestion, Qiu Yun dithered for a moment before wanting to laugh three seconds later. It turned out that university students of every era did the same things!
Qiu Yun thought of something and immediately raised her hand. "Wait."
Chang Huan glared at her. "What now?"
Qiu Yun looked solemn. "How can we cook in the dorm? What if we get caught?"
The three fell into deep thought.
"So, we need to change locations," Qiu Yun said seriously. "Let's move it to the art studio."
The three nodded, their eyes saying, *Brilliant, you're an old pro.*
***
No sooner said than done. After morning classes, Qiu Yun returned to the dorm to find the others had already split up. Wang Chen had left her a note:
*I’m going home to get the pot. Chang Huan and Yujin are going for groceries. Xiao Yun, you’re in charge of the honeycomb coal.*
Honeycomb coal?
Qiu Yun felt the term sounded familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before. After thinking for a long time, she slapped her thigh. The cake!
During her sophomore year, Wu Liu had bought two black, rather ugly cakes for her birthday. One was black sesame and the other was chocolate, but they tasted quite good.
Wu Liu... Qiu Yun’s train of thought paused as she realized how distant that name felt now.
She stared at the distant sky, lost in thought for a long while, then shook her head vigorously and headed off-campus.
There was only one general store near the Academy of Fine Arts. It was quite large, selling non-staple foods, snacks, pastries, and stationery. The shop had a vertical radio that played cassette tapes; sometimes it was the radio station, but most of the time it was pop songs—Teresa Teng and Li Guyi were regulars, and Cui Jian’s "Nothing to My Name" was played countless times a day. With this powerful draw, many students would gather there every day without buying anything, but the shopkeeper didn't mind.
Qiu Yun circled the shop once. There were only some cream pastries and sugar crisps, but no honeycomb coal.
Someone tapped her. "Classmate, are you looking for something?"
Qiu Yun turned her head to see a girl about her age with large, watery eyes and a chin-length bob. She looked quiet and refined, smiling as she asked.
"Oh..." Qiu Yun scanned the counter. "I want to buy some honeycomb coal."
The girl’s large eyes blinked in surprise as she looked at the pastry counter where Qiu Yun was standing. "Honeycomb coal?"
"Yes."
"They shouldn't have that here." The girl thought for a moment. "I know there's a coal yard over on Changsha Road. That's where everyone buys it."
"That far?" Qiu Yun knew Changsha Road; it was about five or six kilometers from the school. In 2018, that was just a quick drive away, but for the current Qiu Yun who only possessed "Route 11"—her own two legs—it was far too distant. Why would Wang Chen ask her to go so far to buy something?
The girl was slightly curious. "What do you want honeycomb coal for? The school doesn't allow it, does it?"
Qiu Yun said, "Why... why wouldn't they? Is there a ban on food?"
"Food?" The girl looked shocked.
"Yeah..." It was Qiu Yun’s turn to be stunned. Seeing the girl’s expression, something felt off. "Is it... not edible?"
At this, the girl’s eyes grew even wider. She stared at Qiu Yun with utter disbelief and was about to speak when someone called from behind her: "Xiaolan."
The girl turned, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly as she called out to the person, "Liang He, you're here."
Qiu Yun looked over. A tall figure walked in through the door toward them. Who else could it be but Liang He?
Liang He was a bit surprised to see the two of them together. Qiu Yun hadn't expected them to know each other either. Seeing Liang He, she gave a half-smile. "Teacher Liang."
Liang He: "You're here too?"
Xiaolan: "You two know each other?"
Liang He explained, "This is Qiu Xiaoyun from Class 1, Year '87. I happen to be their counselor."
"Oh," the girl smiled and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm Liang He's friend. We grew up in the same compound. My name is Lu Xiaolan."
"Oh, hello, Lu..." Qiu Yun paused. "Lu Xiaolan?"
"Yes." Lu Xiaolan looked at Qiu Yun with a beaming smile.
Lu! Xiao! Lan!
The very same Lu Xiaolan who would later torment Liang He to the point of misery?!
Qiu Yun couldn't help but scrutinize the big-eyed beauty again. She was about 1.6 meters tall, well-proportioned, with straight bangs and short hair—an aura as refined as an orchid. So this was the legendary Lu Xiaolan. She then looked at Liang He standing beside her. Childhood friends, a talented man and a beautiful woman—they truly were a match made in heaven. But then she thought of their eventual ending and the impact this relationship would have on Liang He’s entire life. A 500,000-word urban romance tragedy immediately flooded her mind.
The look in her eyes as she watched Liang He suddenly gained ten layers of hidden meaning.
"What are you two..." Liang He interrupted her thoughts.
Before Qiu Yun could speak, Lu Xiaolan said first, "She wants to buy honeycomb coal. I told her she'd have to go to the coal yard on Changsha Road."
"Honeycomb coal?" Liang He looked surprised. He turned to Qiu Yun. "What do you want honeycomb coal for?"
"Just asking," Qiu Yun replied with a chuckle. By now, she was absolutely certain that the "honeycomb coal" she was thinking of and the "honeycomb coal" Wang Chen and Lu Xiaolan knew were definitely not the same thing. At the very least, it wasn't edible.
"Are you planning to start a fire and cook?" Liang He guessed her intention immediately from her expression.
"Start a fire and cook?" It was Qiu Yun's turn to be shocked. "Honeycomb coal... is for starting fires and cooking?"
"She asked if it was edible," Lu Xiaolan said in a joking tone.
Liang He was even more astonished now, his gaze searching Qiu Yun's face. His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds, then with three parts hesitation and seven parts mockery, he asked, "Have you... never seen honeycomb coal before?"
Yes, Liang He was right. Sima Qiu Yun, born in 1994, had indeed never seen honeycomb coal used for cooking. When she was born, Sima Feng had already earned his mid-level professional title and caught the last wave of subsidized housing. They lived on the sixth floor of a walk-up with running water and natural gas; naturally, she had never seen the scene of starting a fire with honeycomb coal. It wasn't until her sophomore year when she ate a cake shaped like "honeycomb coal" that she first encountered the term, and she had assumed that was simply the name of the cake. Even today, when they talked about a group feast, she thought it was for dessert. She hadn't considered any other possibility. Who knew that when Wang Chen put her in charge of "honeycomb coal," she meant actual coal for cooking!
Right, honeycomb *coal*. The coal was the original; the cake was just a high-quality imitation!
How had she not realized that?
Thus, when Liang He led her to stand before a pile of black, genuine honeycomb coal briquettes, she felt as though the word "Awkward" was written all over her.
"Are you going to eat this?" Liang He looked at her with a half-smile.
"..."
"Have you really never seen honeycomb coal?"
"It's not that..."
"Then what is it?"
"Our understandings are just a bit different..."
"I didn't actually kick your brain into dysfunction, did I?" Liang He asked suddenly, his gaze somewhat sympathetic.
"...Does Lu Xiaolan know you registered her name?" Qiu Yun countered.
"The manager of the Youth Apartment dormitory is her aunt. What are you thinking?" Liang He’s expression was perfectly composed.
So that was it. No wonder he could use her name. Qiu Yun was stunned for a moment, but a sly expression immediately surfaced on her face, her eyes saying: *Tsk tsk... you two... I know all about it.*
"Alright, you're free to go now. Xiao Xia is still waiting for you. I won't keep you any longer." Qiu Yun gave a grand wave and rolled up her sleeves.
"She's two years older than you, and you call her 'Xiao Xia'?" Liang He showed no intention of leaving. "I haven't asked you yet—what are you doing with honeycomb coal?"
"Then what should I call her? Lan-lan?" Qiu Yun called out the name in a cloyingly sweet voice that was nauseating. Liang He frowned the moment he heard it. Even if Lu Xiaolan was the same age as Liang He, she was still two years younger than the *actual* Qiu Yun, so calling her "Xiao Xia" was reasonable. However, this Qiu Xiaoyun was only eighteen; calling her "Xiao Xia" was indeed a bit inappropriate.
"Are you going to cook?" Liang He asked.
"Who said that?" Qiu Yun glared. "I say, Teacher Liang, aren't you being a bit too meddlesome? Do you need to know every detail of our extracurricular lives?"
"Of course. It's a matter of safety," Liang He said solemnly. "What if you start a fire? What if there's carbon monoxide poisoning? As your counselor, I wouldn't be able to escape responsibility."
"We're just going to eat, okay?" Qiu Yun felt Liang He was being incredibly wordy today.
"That won't do either. What if you get poisoned?"
"Teacher Liang," Qiu Yun was forced to look him in the eye. "Are you very free today? Your girl... female friend is still waiting for you in the office."
Liang He laughed without a hint of annoyance, looking almost mischievous. "I'm waiting for you, too."
"Waiting for me?"
He crossed his arms and looked at her half-rolled sleeves, saying unhurriedly, "Waiting for you to carry the honeycomb coal."
Qiu Yun felt that today's Liang He was different from before. He wasn't as rigid; he was relaxed, even a bit cheeky. She thought of the Liang He from many years later and felt she could see a shadow of him today. It was a wonderful feeling. Changes in people and things never happen overnight; even with earth-shattering transformations, one can always find clues from long ago. But that wonderful feeling didn't last two seconds. Looking at his certain, expectant face, it was quickly replaced by an urge to hit him.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Why would I let you catch us red-handed?" Qiu Yun squinted at him.
"Do you think I never went to university?" Liang He crossed his arms, his face practically saying *I've played all these games before*. "Your dorm—Wang Chen, Chang Huan, and Liu Yujin?"
"Not in the dorm. We're afraid of getting caught," Qiu Yun simply laid her cards on the table.
"Not entirely stupid, then." Liang He smiled. "But the art studio won't work either."
Qiu Yun glared at him.
"I said it won't work." Leaving those words behind, Liang He turned and walked away.
"Hey... I said..."
Before Qiu Yun could finish her sentence, Liang He returned, pushing a small cart—he had actually borrowed a transport tool for her.
A smile touched Qiu Yun's lips. "Teacher Liang, you really are a bit 'belly black'."
"Belly black?"
"It means 'looking like a pig but bright as a bell inside'."
Liang He’s face darkened. "Is your brain wired differently from everyone else? You're always saying weird things I've never heard of."
Qiu Yun teased him, "I called you a 'pig' and you're really playing the part."
"..." Liang He’s face grew even darker. He set the cart down and spoke with extreme brevity: "Load it."
Having won the verbal sparring match, Qiu Yun was in high spirits. She rolled up her sleeves. "Teacher Liang, then where do you suggest we set up our little stove?"
"What do you mean, where do *I* suggest?"
Qiu Yun looked at him with an expression that said, *Isn't it obvious? Don't be modest, you old pro.*
"Near where you showered last time, there's an empty room. The door isn't locked."
"Haha," Qiu Yun chuckled. "The time with Lan-lan?"
"Stop talking nonsense."
"Fine, fine, fine. I'll keep your secret. Teacher Liang, why are you just standing there? Won't you help me?"
"I borrowed the cart for you." Liang He raised an eyebrow and took a step back. The implication was clear: he wasn't going to touch that filthy coal.
"..." Seeing his detached attitude, Qiu Yun said no more. Forget it; the fact that he tacitly allowed it was already a surprise, and he had even found a place for her. Given his personality, this was already quite good; she couldn't expect his royal self to do the manual labor.
"I'm going to play basketball. I'll come find you all in a bit."
"Find us?" Qiu Yun was picking up the first piece of honeycomb coal.
"Around five o'clock. I'm coming for dinner."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
蜂窝煤 | Honeycomb coal | Cylindrical coal briquettes with holes, common for cooking in 20th-century China.
全聚德 | Quanjude | A famous historic restaurant in Beijing known for its roast duck.
一无所有 | Nothing to My Name | A 1986 rock song by Cui Jian, considered the start of Chinese rock.
11路 | Route 11 | Slang for walking (the two legs look like the number 11).
腹黑 | Belly black / Scheming | A term (originally from Japanese 'hara-guro') for someone who seems nice but is actually mischievous or calculating.
面带猪像心头嘹亮 | Looking like a pig but bright inside | An idiom describing someone who acts foolish or simple but is actually very sharp and observant.
