Be Passionately In Love

It wasn’t that they truly thought Xu Zhi was overconfident or anything. It was just that her tone sounded so much like a joke that no one took it seriously. They simply assumed the two had been hometown acquaintances and now, meeting far from home, naturally had topics to chat about. After all, as everyone knew, life wasn’t a TV drama—there weren’t that many cases of handsome guys paired with beautiful girls.

They did make a good match, but both had such clean, aloof temperaments that it was hard to imagine what they’d be like together—how they’d even kiss, for instance. So no one pressed further.

After that, Chen Luzhou didn’t seem to seek out Xu Zhi again, and the roommates’ gossipy hearts settled back down.

The previous month had been hectic with military training and the intense selection process for various student union and class committee positions. Everyone had been busy trying to stand out in front of their seniors, and while the campus was lively, there was an underlying restlessness. After National Day, things gradually settled into a more orderly rhythm of academic life.

During those days, discussions about Chen Luzhou were never far from Xu Zhi’s ears. Once, while eating in the cafeteria, she overheard two guys talking:

“You know that good-looking guy in the Humanities Experimental Class? The girls in our class keep raving about him, but when I saw him, I didn’t get the hype—until last night. We played Werewolf with Li Ke’s dorm, and Li Ke invited him along.”

The other guy’s interest was piqued. “Oh? Is he really sharp with logic?”

“He’s decent, but I think he was holding back. Li Ke said Chen Luzhou was the top scorer in their province without even taking the Self-selected module. You know S Province requires it, right? He skipped it and still scored 733—just twenty-something points behind Li Ke. If he’d taken the module, his total would’ve been close to 790. That’s insane. But that’s not even the point. Last night changed my opinion of him. I used to think good-looking guys were all stuck-up, but he’s actually fun.”

“How so?”

“Before the game, the mood was great. Li Ke joked about charging a table fee since they always play in his dorm and end up making a mess that gets them scolded by the dorm supervisor. Everyone played along, agreeing to chip in. But then, as the game went on, two of Li Ke’s roommates started arguing. Those two have always had short fuses—they fight every time they play, though usually it’s just bickering. But last night, they got so mad they started throwing cups. Chen Luzhou looked shocked too. He exchanged a glance with Li Ke and then joked, ‘Shouldn’t the table fee cover this cup? Are you scamming me?’ Li Ke fired back, ‘You’ve got no vision—what’s wrong with scamming you a little?’ Chen Luzhou shot back, ‘How about I scam you instead? Call me ‘Dad’ and show me your vision.’”

“The tension instantly lightened. Honestly, every time I’ve played Werewolf with Li Ke’s roommates, it’s ended badly—people always end up sulking. If not for Chen Luzhou last night, it would’ve been another unpleasant breakup. Felt like we were about to ruin our friendship over a game.”Xu Zhi thought that was exactly the kind of thing Chen Luzhou would say. Back then, she didn’t even need to ask where he was—occasionally, she’d come across posts on social media. Almost every day, someone would post photos of him playing basketball on the court. Xu Zhi had even deliberately clicked on one of those pictures to zoom in. Though it was blurry and the resolution wasn’t great, she could still vaguely tell that he really did wear two layers while playing—a white T-shirt underneath, layered with a red, blue, or black jersey on top.

Most of his games were at night, and with the dim streetlights of the outdoor court, the place was always crowded with both guys and girls. One thing that set Chen Luzhou apart from guys like Jiang Yu was that while the latter—along with other department heartthrobs—would occasionally let their eyes wander, absentmindedly glancing at the girls watching from the sidelines to see if any were particularly pretty, Chen Luzhou only focused on the game. Even during breaks, he’d just lean against the basketball hoop with his arms crossed. Though many eyes were on him, his attention never strayed—his gaze remained fixed on the ball, tracking its every move with unwavering concentration. That single-minded intensity was enough to deter even the most infatuated admirers.

Posts from the humanities department often captioned his photos with: The pride of our faculty.

Meanwhile, the senior girls’ captions read: Finally, a tall, handsome guy with an air of abstinence.

Everyone indulged in a little admiration, but as for actually making a move? Not really. Only a few had tried flirting with him, and even then, it was subtle.

**

After October, many campus events kicked off as scheduled. Inter-department basketball matches and the campus Top Ten Singers competition were both in full swing. Xu Zhi’s dorm happened to be right across from the preliminary rounds of the singing contest, so every afternoon, like clockwork, she and her roommates were treated to a chorus of increasingly tragic wails.

Xu Gongzhu and Du Qilan couldn't help but complain.

Xu Gongzhu groaned, That last note just scared off at least four girlfriends—they all bolted overnight, dragging their suitcases behind them.

Du Qilan shrugged. Honestly, this isn’t even that bad. Our school’s never been strong in arts and sports anyway—we’re used to it. The ones who can actually sing don’t bother competing, while the tone-deaf ones just go up and belt it out. Might as well clap for effort.

Xu Zhi, meanwhile, was too preoccupied with her structural design assignment to care. Her professor had praised her work in every aspect except one: The composition lacks cohesion—it doesn’t grab attention. That kind of feedback was infuriating because it gave no concrete direction. She had no idea where the problem lay or how to fix it. The professor might as well have written You lack talent and aren’t cut out for architecture on her assignment. The critique was phrased politely, but that gentle knife-stab only made her feel more powerless and defeated.

This structural design professor had a reputation for harsh grading—everyone had flaws in his eyes. But the worst flaw of all was lack of cohesion . During the first lecture, he’d emphasized: A disjointed composition is the greatest challenge an architect faces in their career. It’s like presenting a design to a client—they can’t pinpoint the issue, but they’ll always feel something’s missing and ask for revisions. Yet, you won’t know where to start. After a few rounds of this, most people switch careers. That’s the lesson from many of my seniors. Not to discourage anyone, but students like this may need to work harder to find inspiration.

At that moment, Xu Zhi leaned against the dorm balcony railing, her heart numb as she searched for inspiration.

Then, suddenly, a familiar melody drifted through the air."Everyone lacks something, that's why we're suddenly unhappy—"

"Maybe only you understand me, so you didn't escape, crying while holding me tight, whispering how much you love me—"

Xu Zhi listened for a while, unsure, so she sent a message to someone.

[Xu Zhi: Did you enter the Top Ten Singers competition?]

[The reply came quickly: ?]

During that period, apart from having breakfast with her every morning, Chen Luzhou was basically nowhere to be found at other times.

[Xu Zhi: I think I just heard your voice singing 'Longing for Freedom.']

[Another reply came: Bro's studying in the library.]

Xu Zhi roughly knew he'd been trying to catch up on missed classes recently. Midterms were coming up, and she'd heard that 30% of the first semester's midterm grades would count toward the final exams. If he didn't put in more effort, forget about transferring majors—he wouldn't even manage a second minor.

[Xu Zhi: What time did you sleep last night?]

[Reply: Two?]

[Xu Zhi: Maybe we should stop having breakfast together from now on.]

[Reply: Who are you planning to eat with? Jiang Yu?]

[Xu Zhi: Oh please, didn't you tell Zhu Yangqi you didn't care if I dated anyone?]

The next second, the phone rang directly. Xu Zhi was standing on her dorm balcony, the evening scenery of the campus stretching beautifully before her. The sunset cast a long, red haze over the entire campus. Beijing truly wasn't a city that loved rain—since Xu Zhi arrived, there had been barely any rainfall. The air was much drier than in Qingyi, and even though it was golden October, the wind carried a biting chill. Still, the view was lovely. Below, a young couple sat on a stone bench in the grove, locked in a passionate kiss, making the evening breeze feel restless.

Xu Zhi's lips were dry. She wanted water but was too lazy to go inside and get it, so she leaned against the railing, letting the evening wind brush over her. She licked her lips and answered the call. Before she could speak, it seemed he had already stepped out of the library—otherwise, his voice wouldn't be this clear. He laughed and asked, "What else did Zhu Yangqi tell you?"

The couple in the grove still hadn't separated, clinging to each other for a while longer before the girl reluctantly stood up from the boy's lap.

Du Qilan and Xu Gongzhu had gone inside halfway through, but Xu Zhi remained outside. She realized the more she licked her lips, the drier they became. Beijing's wind was sharp and harsh. She sighed and said, "Nothing much. Just focus on your studies. We'll talk after your exams."

"Is Jiang Yu annoying you?" Chen Luzhou asked casually.

Jiang Yu hadn't contacted her in a while—probably busy with department work. Xu Zhi hadn't paid it much mind. She had planned to make things clear if he reached out again, telling him not to waste his time on her, but coincidentally, he never did.

"Not as annoying as you."

He stood under a tree outside the library, phone pressed to his ear, wearing a white round-neck sweatshirt with sleeves loosely rolled up to his elbows, revealing pale, slender arms. A retractable black pen was clipped between his fingers, its cap flicking back and forth repeatedly. He looked hurried, clearly squeezing this call into his busy schedule. "Treasure these days while you can. Once my exams are over, you're definitely getting a beating."Xu Zhi looked at the radiant sunset glow across the campus, and suddenly her mood lifted. She laughed and said, "Chen Luzhou, you're so lame. I thought the academic god from City No.1 High School could do anything."

"The academic god from City No.1 High School might not know everything, but Chen Luzhou can learn anything with a little effort."

Xu Zhi suddenly grew curious. "Then I'd like to know what score you'll get in the midterms."

There was a chuckle on the other end. "Alright, I'm also looking forward to seeing how the dark horse from Qingyi performs."

When people go to another province, they tend to amplify regional identities. For example, seeing a fellow countryman abroad might bring tears to their eyes, while within the country, students from the same province naturally band together. This is even more true for those from the same city.

There were quite a few students from S Province at the school, with Qingyi being the most represented. Everyone knew that City No.1 High School in S Province produced academic prodigies, and its students carried an inexplicable air of superiority, as if only they could represent the educational strength and student caliber of S Province. Whenever someone asked about Qingyi students from other schools, they would immediately deny any connection—"No, they're not from No.1 High."

Xu Zhi had encountered this situation several times with students from other schools. Someone would ask, "Hey, isn't he also from Qingyi?" and the other person would immediately shake their head and say, "Not from our No.1 High." It was incredibly frustrating—as if not being from No.1 High meant they weren’t even from Qingyi. It was as though students from other schools couldn’t possibly represent Qingyi, effortlessly dismissing others' hard work. No matter where they were, students from City No.1 High carried this sense of superiority. Not all of them, but at least the majority did.

Chen Luzhou’s remark about her being the "dark horse from Qingyi" warmed Xu Zhi’s heart. He always seemed to touch her in the most unexpected ways. At that moment, she thought to herself: if there was one trump card in her life that couldn’t be taken away, it would probably be him.

Well, Old Xu couldn’t be taken away either.

Actually, Old Xu came first.

Xu Zhi hung up the phone, suddenly feeling a surge of motivation. There was no denying it—Chen Luzhou was the kind of person who filled others with hope. In just a short while, he had recharged her.

The library was crowded but silent, filled with the soft scratching of pens on paper and the rustling of turning pages. Chen Luzhou returned with his pen, just pulling out his chair to sit down when Li Ke, who was sitting beside him, was about to say something. A pretty girl walked over—her hair tied in a high ponytail, her forehead smooth and bare, her makeup meticulously applied, foundation layered like plaster on her face. Yet her skin was flawless, and her figure was slender and tall. Li Ke roughly estimated she must be at least 1.75 meters tall.

The girl looked down at Chen Luzhou, her skin glowing like snow, and asked with a polite smile, "Chen Luzhou, is this seat taken?"

Li Ke instinctively glanced at Chen Luzhou, suddenly realizing who this girl was—probably from the foreign languages department. But how did she already know his name? It seemed they were already acquainted. For some reason, Li Ke immediately felt a pang of worry for his "dark horse from Qingyi." Of course—how could someone like Chen Luzhou not have admirers?

Author's note: *Double update tomorrow. The time might be earlier—check the synopsis for details.