From July when he learned he had advanced to the finals, to November when the award list was announced, and finally to today when the prize money officially landed in his hands, Jing Qichi's emotions had traced a perfect parabola. Now, with final exams completely over, his mood had officially dipped into the negatives.
Qiu Yang knew what he was thinking, but all he could offer was consolation. "Be content—you've got the certificate, the trophy, and the money came without strings. We got what we wanted, in a way."
"You're content?" Jing Qichi shot back.
"I..." Qiu Yang faltered, shaking his head silently.
How could he be content? The code had been typed line by line, the model had been tested and retested, the data had required countless trips—first to their professors, then to the dean, and even the university hospital. They'd pulled endless all-nighters, sampled every flavor of instant noodles on the market, and nearly came to blows when disagreements within the team led to their business-plan teammate from the economics department quitting (only to be persuaded back later). Qiu Yang couldn't speak for others, but he and Jing Qichi hadn't gone through all that just for a few thousand yuan in prize money.
They wanted their project to take root—to become a tangible product that could actually be put to use.
Even though Qiu Yang knew and was willing to admit that what they'd produced so far wasn't even a fraction of what it could be.
They'd poured their hearts into it because they believed the entrepreneurship competition was an opportunity—a chance for their project to be seen, for their idea to reach more people. But the old saying proved true: the one who cares the most loses.
They waited and waited, but nothing came of it. It was just a competition after all—once it was over, that was that.
"Why did you want to do this?" Jing Qichi asked suddenly.
Qiu Yang was silent for a moment. "You know what I regret most? In high school, I was into computer competitions, programming and solving problems like a madman. But I couldn't handle the pressure and quit. I regret it—every time I think about it, I regret it. If I'd just held on back then... at the very least, I wouldn't be sharing a dorm with you now."
"True," Jing Qichi chuckled.
"But regret is useless. Completely useless," Qiu Yang continued. "So I wanted to see something through, from start to finish. And I don't care if you laugh at me for saying this, but I always felt like I could do it. Like when you first brought up applying AI to medical imaging—I heard it and just knew it could work, that I could do it. I was absolutely certain."
Jing Qichi stayed quiet.
"Qi Chi, I mean it," Qiu Yang said, patting his shoulder. "Maybe the environment isn't right for it now, but in ten years—no, maybe just three or five—this thing is going to shine. AI can't replace humans, but it can definitely help them. Your approach is absolutely aligned with the cutting edge."
"I wasn't thinking that far ahead," Jing Qichi murmured. "I just wanted to do something for the people around me, to make their lives a little easier within my capabilities."
"Different paths, same destination," Qiu Yang sighed.
Their goals might differ, but their desire to make this happen was exactly the same.
After a shared silence, Qiu Yang spoke again. "I feel empty now."
"Yeah." Jing Qichi nodded, then suddenly grinned. "Spring recruitment, then?"
Because of the project, they'd completely missed the autumn recruitment period—Qiu Yang had sent out a flood of applications and landed a few offers, but none from companies or positions he actually wanted. Jing Qichi had it worse—he hadn't even attended a single interview.
They say you win some, you lose some, but these two hapless brothers had ended up with nothing at all."Pity." Qiu Yang stroked the thick stack of bound project proposals in front of him before opening a drawer and stuffing them inside.
The graduation horn had already sounded. The future they once fantasized about was now within reach, and reality brooked no recklessness from anyone.
Yin Huan'er had begun assisting in her advisor's laboratory, so the pair returned home a week later that winter break.
High-speed rail tickets were sold out, and rare rain and snow had caused frequent flight cancellations. Any further delay would mean getting caught in the Spring Festival travel rush, so Huan'er took the initiative to buy two soft sleeper train tickets.
Small decisions like these no longer required discussion with Jing Qichi. Firstly, she knew exactly what he considered monumental versus trivial. Secondly, she'd heard about the aftermath of the entrepreneurship competition—though Jing Qichi hadn't outwardly shown displeasure, he must have been thoroughly frustrated inside.
The compartment had four berths. When they entered, a middle-aged man already occupied one lower bunk. In his thirties, he wore a black wool sweater with a white shirt collar peeking out, gray dress pants, and black leather shoes. A laptop sat on the fold-down table, its audio playing aloud as if he were in a video conference. He nodded at them and said, "Apologies, I forgot my headphones. I'll be done shortly."
"No problem." Huan'er waved it off, then placed her bag on the opposite lower bunk, signaling Jing Qichi with her eyes to take the upper berth above her.
Jing Qichi nodded, first stowing their suitcases beneath the bunks and tossing his backpack onto the upper level before sitting beside Huan'er to show her a message on his phone—Jing's Mother was asking when they'd arrive.
Huan'er took his phone and replied directly, "6 a.m. tomorrow. We'll take a taxi home—no need to pick us up." After sending it, she handed the phone back to him.
They hadn't spoken a word the entire time, the compartment filled only with the voice from the laptop: "In summary, that's the current lab preparation status. Headquarters has decided next year's launch is set in stone. Social, gaming, content, platform—each team leader will take one area and submit a detailed execution plan based on existing teams and personnel."
"Got it," the man said to the laptop. "Signing off now—poor signal on the train. We'll discuss specifics tomorrow in person."
Closing the screen, he apologized again. "My apologies."
From the meeting content to his demeanor, both Huan'er and Jing Qichi could tell—this guy was a bona fide business elite.
"Really, it's fine." Huan'er smiled and asked, "Where are you headed?"
"Beijing. And you two?"
"Tianhe."
"Going home for winter break?" The man made conversation. "Which university?"
When Huan'er named it, he smiled approvingly. "Top students."
He went on to share his visit to their campus years prior—the old gate, Guangba Road, the Fox Fairy Legend from the mountains—the conversation flowing easily.
Occasionally, Chen Huan'er became aware of her own growth. Where she'd once been shy and awkward with strangers, she now effortlessly chatted with fellow travelers like this. Time worked such wonders, continuously bestowing belated surprises and realizations.
The man's phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he stood. "My son. Would you mind keeping an eye on my things?"
"Of course," Huan'er agreed.
Once he stepped out and closed the door, she nudged Jing Qichi. "This guy's seriously polished."Jing Qichi was lazily leaning against the compartment wall, browsing job advertisements without looking up. "Maybe they don't want to reveal their privacy," he said.
Fair point. Huan'er had already noticed the luggage bag on his bed, bearing the same logo as the rich second-generation Qiu Li's small crossbody bag.
Jing Qichi straightened up. "Hungry? Should I go get some food?"
Huan'er checked the time and stood. "I'll go. I want to grab some snacks too."
"Alright." Jing Qichi tilted his head and flopped onto her bunk. "Don't buy anything cold—you'll get a stomachache again."
Not long after Huan'er left, the compartment door opened again, revealing a stranger.
Assuming it was the passenger from the upper bunk opposite, Jing Qichi simply nodded at them without much thought.
But soon, he sensed something was off. The person entered silently and left without a word, only to return moments later, sneaking glances behind them before reaching for the luggage bag on the opposite bunk and then the laptop.
Jing Qichi's heart raced. Keeping his back to the intruder, he dialed Chen Huan'er's number and sat up. "Bro, Brother Li said to wait for him. He'll be back soon."
His voice might have trembled—or maybe it didn't. Jing Qichi couldn't tell.
The intruder paused, turning to stare at him intently.
A young man, likely around his own age.
"You're Brother Li's colleague, right?" Jing Qichi feigned calm. On the other end of the line, Chen Huan'er answered with a "Hello?"
He raised the phone to his ear, keeping only his peripheral vision on the compartment. "Oh, grab me a one-on-one."
The intruder didn't leave—maybe observing, maybe strategizing.
Jing Qichi pulled the phone away. "Brother Li said to wait for the person. He wants to discuss the lab plan with you."
There was no damn Brother Li.
He was stalling, hoping Huan'er would recognize the code word.
Time seemed to freeze.
"Yes, thank you," the intruder said—their first words since entering.
No discernible accent, no detectable emotion.
Jing Qichi watched as they slipped the laptop into a bag.
He couldn't speak anymore. His heart was in his throat—one more word would give him away.
What now?
Acting faster than thinking, Jing Qichi blocked the door, locking it.
His earlier act was ruined. He knew he'd been exposed.
The intruder glared, eyes turning fierce. "Move."
Almost simultaneously, Huan'er's voice came from outside. "Got it, one-on-one."
Something flashed before his eyes. Jing Qichi twisted the lock and stumbled aside as two officers stormed in, subduing the thief. On the floor lay a switchblade, its tip aimed right at him.
Hah. Over.
Huan'er, pale-faced, pulled him up, frantically checking for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
"No." Still shaken, Jing Qichi watched the intruder being escorted out before finally taking a deep breath.
The older man sharing their compartment rushed in, bewildered. "What happened?"
"Are you...?" The remaining officer questioned him.
"This is mine." The man patted his pocket, producing his ticket. "Lower bunk."
After verifying the ticket, the officer handed it back and pointed at Huan'er. "We ran into this young lady during patrol. She insisted something was wrong in your compartment." He glanced at the discarded luggage bag. "Looks like your belongings were being stolen, and these two students stepped in."The aisle was crowded with onlookers, and the train police officer shouted loudly, "Everyone, please return to your seats. Make sure to keep an eye on your personal belongings." He then patted Jing Qichi on the shoulder and said, "Well done, young man. You showed both courage and wisdom. Take a rest for now. Our colleagues will come later to take your statement. These thieves always get desperate around the New Year."
The carriage gradually quieted down. Huan'er, still uneasy, scrutinized the person involved from head to toe and suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no!"
Startled by the sound, Jing Qichi widened his eyes and asked, "What's wrong?"
"You're hurt!"
"Huh?" He felt no pain at all. He checked his knees, abdomen, both arms, and finally touched his face. "Where?"
Huan'er pointed to his forehead. "Right here, there's a bump."
Yes, it seemed his head had hit the bunk ladder when he fell.
"Already lacking a screw loose," Huan'er shook her head with a pitiful expression. "This is bad, really bad."
The man from the opposite bunk returned after seeing the police officer off and thanked them as soon as he entered. "I owe you both today. Losing some money would have been one thing, but my computer has too much important data. The consequences would have been unthinkable if it had been stolen."
Jing Qichi smiled. "It was the right thing to do."
"My name is Jiang Sen." The other man extended his hand.
Jing Qichi shook it firmly. "Jing Qichi."
"Who would have thought we'd run into something like this?" Jiang Sen sat back down on the opposite bunk and asked, "No one got hurt, right?"
Huan'er grinned and ruffled Jing Qichi's hair. "Our handsome guy here got his face messed up."
"Even with a messed-up face, he's still a spirited young man." Jiang Sen gestured with a smile. "How did you two figure it out?"
"We have a code word." Huan'er exchanged a glance with Jing Qichi.
It was a code word they had never discussed—a tacit understanding formed during their high school days, one-on-one.
The moment Huan'er heard it, she started running back without hesitation or second thought. It was more like an intuition-driven reaction—if those three words were spoken out of the blue, Jing Qichi must be in trouble.
She was indeed lucky. On her way, she encountered the train police, who followed her without question and, with their valuable experience, signaled at the closed door—stay calm, don’t alert the enemy.
If any single step had gone wrong, the outcome would not have been what it was now.
Jiang Sen looked at them and sighed with admiration. "That's really something."
The dining car was closed, so the three of them laid out their prepared "rations" on the small table and began an ordinary yet extraordinary dinner, chatting animatedly. Huan'er scrolled through her social media feed and asked Jing Qichi, "What does this mean?"
Qiu Yang had posted a status half an hour ago: Ctrl+Y.
Jing Qichi, his mouth full, mumbled, "It's a Python shortcut—select a line and delete it."
Jiang Sen looked up at this. "You know Python?"
"Yeah," Jing Qichi replied casually. "I study computer science."
Huan'er gave Qiu Yang a like, put away her phone, and said, "So, 'Skincare Enthusiast' means he's giving up on the entrepreneurship competition project and starting over?"
"He's been hit pretty hard." Jing Qichi chuckled.
The speaker may have had no particular intention, but the listener took it to heart. Jiang Sen rubbed his hands together and asked, "Could you tell me more about what kind of project you were working on?"
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