A new commendation notice was posted on the faculty office’s announcement board.
Three universities were co-hosting an exchange competition to test the professional skills of undergraduate students. The top performers could even catch the eye of industry-leading enterprises. In other words, as long as one could secure a top ranking, there would be no need to worry about employment after graduation.
Almost every student with a shred of confidence or a glimmer of hope had signed up. The theme provided by the organizers this time was highly specific: "Post-Earthquake."
Whether it was architectural blueprints emphasizing earthquake resistance or interior design plans aimed at helping families move past the shadow of disaster, the scope was broad—as long as the logic was sound.
Among the fifth-year students nearing graduation, there were many exceptional talents who were determined to win. Consequently, most people speculated that the top three spots would undoubtedly be contested among them.
However, when the final results were announced, a group of people stood frozen before the announcement board, their expressions masks of disbelief.
"How could it be her?"
"On what grounds?"
Zong Yan’s roommate stomped her foot in frustration.
Third Place: Zong Yan.
The name was written clearly in black ink on the red paper.
Other classmates also wore complex expressions, ranging from resentment to shame.
Many things had changed after the earthquake. Si Jiang had disappeared, and many students' families had faced their own crises; no one had the energy to target Zong Yan anymore. Because of this, their perception of her was shifting.
She had originally entered the program with the highest score in her major. Not to mention, she ranked among the best in every exam; her academic ability was beyond reproach. Even if her personality wasn't particularly social, she never went looking for trouble. She was low-key, silent, and kept to herself.
If one looked at her without prejudice, she was actually quite cool, wasn't she?
At least, among the underclassmen who hadn't participated in the bullying or the cold shoulder treatment, some thought so.
Zong Yan was still unaware of the news of her award.
The library was full, and with two hours left until her next class, she didn't feel like hunting for an empty classroom. Instead, she found a table in a school pavilion and took out her laptop to work.
It was the season of Frost Descent. A dry wind swirled fallen leaves through the air before they drifted onto the lake's surface.
Zong Yan brushed back the hair that had stuck to her face, thinking that perhaps she should go get a haircut.
A new text message arrived on her phone. It was from Si Jiang: "I just woke up from my nap. It’s a bit cold today."
Zong Yan leaned her head on her hand, reflecting. It was true; the weather was getting colder. Her pet didn't have any clothes of his own and was still wearing his old T-shirt. She had seen him sneeze several times lately.
This couldn't continue. It would be even more troublesome if he got sick. A body raised in luxury was fragile; last time he had a fever, it took several days of medication to pull through.
She typed: "Go to the master bedroom closet and find some thick clothes. You can wear them after you wash them."
"The master bedroom? Can I go in there?"
Si Jiang was a bit dazed. To be honest, despite living here for so long, he had never stepped foot inside the master bedroom. Zong Yan always slept in the living room, so he slept in the living room as well. However, Zong Yan never used the bathroom Si Jiang used; she would go to the one in the master suite.
"Just take the clothes. Don't touch anything else."
"I promise I won't touch anything!"
"Thank you, Master."
He added a fawning emoticon.
Zong Yan’s expression softened for a moment, the cold, "do not approach" distance vanishing from her eyes.
A gust of wind blew, pushing the hair away from the side of her face, revealing her clear features and the birthmark beneath her eye.
Someone witnessed this scene and stood there, utterly stunned.
He stood outside the pavilion, his face turning red for some unknown reason. His expression shifted between struggle and bashful embarrassment until finally, he gritted his teeth and pumped his fist to give himself courage.
"Bai Mao, be brave. It’s just striking up a conversation with a senior!"
The youth’s face still held a lingering, unrefined innocence. Having just turned eighteen and escaped the closed-off, grueling hell of his senior year of high school to enter university, he had a dream.
He, Bai Mao, was going to do everything he hadn't played or done in high school!
However, on the day of freshman registration, all of Bai Mao’s brilliant plans were forgotten in an instant.
He had been a "good boy" who kept his nose in his books and ignored the world. He was well-raised by his family, pampered by his elders, but also strictly controlled. This time, he had insisted on reporting to the university alone, without his family’s involvement. He was a grown man now and wanted to live an independent life.
As it turned out, at the crowded university entrance, the lingering effects of the earthquake had not yet dissipated, and the bustling orientation felt strangely suppressed.
Bai Mao finally remembered that he was an extreme introvert.
Standing before a row of orientation tables, he found himself unable to speak. When someone asked which department he was in, his voice was drowned out by others the moment it emerged. The volunteer frowned.
"You're a big guy, speak up. Don't act like a little girl, okay?"
Bai Mao hated words like that the most.
He was furious but didn't want to start a conflict, so he could only shrink back to the side in frustration, cursing his own uselessness.
The beautiful university life he had dreamed of had barely begun before a shadow was cast over it—it turned out there were just as many idiots in university, even though they had all gotten into such a good school.
Just as he was replaying in his mind how he should have retorted to that comment, Zong Yan stood before him.
"You're Bai Mao, right?"
Her voice wasn't the dainty, pleasant tone of typical girls; it was slightly raspy, cool, and gender-neutral.
Coincidentally, Bai Mao had never liked voices with strong feminine qualities. This vocal range immediately piqued his curiosity.
He looked up and saw Zong Yan’s face. He froze for a second, and then a special light erupted in his eyes.
"I'm a volunteer for the faculty orientation, Zong Yan, a junior. I've seen your file. Follow me; we'll report over here."
*Senior is so special.*
In this competition, that familiar name had appeared on the winners' list again.
Bai Mao’s budding heart fluttered even more joyfully.
*Senior Zong Yan is just too cool! She has personality, she's excellent, and she's beautiful.*
*I wonder if she has a boyfriend?* According to the information he’d gathered, she probably didn't.
Who could possibly be worthy of Senior Zong Yan? At least not those people who were bitter in private or those who gossiped about her birthmark. That birthmark was perfectly placed and had a very unique shape; those fools just didn't know how to appreciate it.
But Senior Zong Yan would be a senior next year. Seniors had to go on internships, and the fifth year would surely be even busier. If he didn't take the initiative now, he might never get another chance.
"Se—Senior Zong Yan, hello."
Zong Yan turned her head in confusion.
A somewhat familiar-looking boy had walked up behind her at some point. He had delicate features and large, round eyes full of spirit, looking like a simple young animal gazing at her expectantly.
"Congratulations on winning third prize in the competition! It’s truly well-deserved! I’ve always admired you. Um, well... can I add you on WeChat?"
***
As the sunset was about to dip below the horizon, the sound of Zong Yan’s footsteps finally echoed outside the door.
Si Jiang had been slumped over the coffee table in a daze, watching the time pass second by second.
For some reason, he felt uneasy today. Perhaps it was because Zong Yan hadn't replied to his messages since the afternoon.
Such an anomaly, straying from the bounds of their calm, normal life, inevitably made one overthink.
The master hadn't replied, and a pet couldn't constantly send messages or even call to disturb her. So, he suppressed his emotions and tried to empty his mind, mechanically staring at the time on his phone, counting every second.
Until he heard those reassuring footsteps.
He scrambled up from the floor, ignoring the cramp in his leg, and trotted to the door.
When Zong Yan opened the door and entered, he forced a smile. "You're back, Mas... ter?"
"What happened? Your face and your hair?"
There were injuries on Zong Yan’s face, and her hair had been cut short, with only the ends reaching just below her ears.
His enthusiasm received no response.
The master who had returned home late offered no explanation. She bypassed him and walked straight toward the kitchen.
Si Jiang stood rooted to the spot, feeling somewhat wounded, not knowing why he was suddenly being treated with such coldness. He had clearly been behaving very well lately, and her attitude toward him had been good as well.
Why was she suddenly ignoring him?
"Master, your injuries?"
He followed her into the kitchen, refusing to give up.
Zong Yan’s path to wash the vegetables was blocked, forcing her to finally look at him. But that look was one of pure impatience. "Get out."
"..."
Si Jiang retreated from the kitchen in a daze, sitting down on his bed, lost and bewildered.
What happened?
Why was she being so harsh to him?
What did he do wrong? Hadn't everything been normal this afternoon?
Was it because he hadn't done something right today? Or had he said something wrong?
Si Jiang pulled out his phone and re-read every text he had sent today, but he couldn't find a single clue.
Was it because he shouldn't have said it was cold and then gone to the master bedroom for clothes? That was the only thing he could think of.
When Zong Yan walked out carrying the dishes, she saw Si Jiang wearing his old short-sleeved shirt, his face slightly pale from the cold, looking at her pleadingly.
She said nothing. She portioned out the food, handed it to him, and began to eat in silence.
To Si Jiang, the food tasted like wax.
The warm meal felt like wet cement being poured into his stomach, sinking heavily and dragging at his internal organs until they ached.
Why?
Before bed, Zong Yan still hadn't said a single word to him.
She turned off the light, lay down on the sofa, and closed her eyes immediately.
Si Jiang lay below like a corpse. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his lips suddenly trembling.
*Why? On what grounds?*
Even a pet should be given a reason for being treated so coldly.
Was she tired of him? Did she want to abandon him?
At that thought, Si Jiang curled himself into a ball, clutching the glass jar tightly in his arms.
