Even after his mother passed away and he was left to depend solely on his father, his father's alcoholism and violent temper remained unchanged. In fact, his father had a decent job—working in the demolition and relocation department of the municipal government. They lived in a spacious three-bedroom apartment, and his father was quick to give Chen Zhaoci money. Yet, the young boy grew increasingly withdrawn, often keeping to himself, going out alone to buy meals and notebooks. At a tender age, he learned to buy clothes from street stalls to wear.
At home, Chen Zhaoci was like an invisible presence. Especially when his father came home drunk, he would shut his door tightly and huddle in a corner to read. Even so, his father would sometimes burst in and beat him severely.
From a young age, Chen Zhaoci's academic performance was neither outstanding nor poor, but he was undoubtedly the well-behaved child in his teachers' eyes. He studied diligently, worked hard, and obeyed whatever his teachers said, showing maturity beyond his years. He would help classmates in need, demonstrating a thoughtful nature. Though not a standout figure, he was someone nobody disliked.
When he was seven, his father found another woman. At first, they didn't register their marriage and often fooled around at home. The woman was also fond of drinking, greedy for money, and vain, with little sense of shame. His father was often drunk, and sometimes when Chen Zhaoci returned from school and stumbled upon them, the two showed no embarrassment. His father would just yell, "Get inside!" and continue his antics, while the woman would cover herself with a blanket, then seductively smooth her hair—in Chen Zhaoci's eyes, it seemed like both a boast and a lewd provocation.
By the time Chen Zhaoci entered middle school, he spent very little time at home. His father didn't care, as he had married the woman, and she was pregnant. For parents who loved themselves far more than their children, a quiet, unremarkable son left behind by an ex-wife, though occasionally stirring guilt, was ultimately superfluous. At times, his father even felt that his first wife's early death was fortunate; otherwise, how could he have met such a like-minded and alluring woman?
He never considered that his first wife had struggled alongside him, saving together for the down payment on their unit apartment. The new one, who prioritized fun over family, had her eyes set on the increasingly valuable property and his status as a government employee. With plenty of pillow talk, the man grew increasingly disdainful of his "odd and useless eldest son."
But Chen Zhaoci saw all of this clearly. In the many solitary moments, he read extensively—history, politics, sociology, as well as psychology and economics. He didn't necessarily understand everything, and perhaps reading too many extracurricular books led to him only scoring enough on the college entrance exam to get into Huai Cheng University, a third-tier institution. Yet, his heart was full of ambition, yearning for a life different from his father's and aspiring to achieve great things.Huai City was situated along a vital passage in western Hunan, having seen battles against the Japanese invaders, conflicts between the Nationalists and Communists, and post-liberation bandit suppression. The wars left behind nineteen air-raid shelters and secret passages. Of course, with ongoing urban economic development and structural decay over time, only eight remained accessible and usable. Chen Zhaoci had seen all these documented in files his father brought home. Fascinated by those wartime legends, he visited every one of the eight sites. Since childhood, he knew them as intimately as his own backyard. He was always a boy who cherished secrets and private thoughts—those tunnels became his secret garden within the vast city, belonging to him alone.
Upon entering university, Chen Zhaoci left the same impression as in high school: dull, shy, and kind-hearted. You might not particularly like him, but you’d never guard yourself against him. Years of reading had also lent him a scholarly air. He struggled to interact with girls and had no idea how to please anyone, often retreating when someone showed interest in him. Thus, he remained single.
It wasn’t until his junior year that he met Zhu Xinya, a freshman from a neighboring college.
Zhu Xinya attended a finance and economics college with a gender ratio of 1:9. It was said that girls at Huai Finance College were both pretty and bold. Various private vehicles often parked at the school gate, while female students at Huai University seemed comparatively plain.
Chen Zhaoci never understood how he caught Zhu Xinya’s attention. He’d only visited the finance college a few times for part-time work. Yet the girl latched onto him. Zhu Xinya was his polar opposite—petite but curvaceous, always wearing makeup too glamorous for her age, academically hopeless, with friends everywhere, and given to loud "hahaha—” laughter. Despite this, she fell for the refined scholar at first sight and vowed to win him over.
At first, Chen Zhaoci kept avoiding her. But she was persistent: delivering breakfast in the mornings, strolling near his dormitory in the evenings, drawing whistles and stares from boys. She’d toss her hair, smug and arrogant, even whistling toward his dorm window.
His roommates teased him, but Chen Zhaoci only frowned: "I don’t like girls like her."
He assumed she’d give up soon. A month later, she did—at least visibly. After all, a girl couldn’t keep embarrassing herself outside the boys’ dorm. But her texts and calls never ceased.
Morning: "Zhaoci, I have advanced math today. I really don’t want to go. Can’t understand it."
Noon: "I only ate a tiny portion for lunch. Gotta lose weight—my waist grew half an inch."
Evening: "Zhaoci, miss me! But no dirty thoughts!" followed by a selfie.
The next morning, Chen Zhaoci washed his bedsheets with a dark expression.
When did they truly begin? It was probably that morning three months later, when Zhu Xinya lay bedridden with a severe cold, absent from classes for days, too weak to even bombard him with messages. So when Chen Zhaoci showed up at her dorm with a thermos, everyone’s jaws dropped.
Zhu Xinya pointed weakly at him: "You... you..."
Blushing but speaking stiffly, Chen Zhaoci said, "Drink more hot water, have congee, no spicy food. Rest properly."
…Later on, to outsiders, their relationship seemed to have reversed roles.
Every morning, a quiet, unremarkable figure began appearing outside the women's dormitory of the Finance College. He started bringing her breakfast, accompanying her to and from classes, and eating together in the cafeteria—they became inseparable. Most observers saw Zhu Xinya like a triumphant little fox, proudly holding Chen Zhaoci's arm with her tail held high as they paraded around campus.
Most people believed their personalities were too different. Moreover, though Zhu Xinya was making this relationship highly visible, she had previously changed boyfriends as frequently as changing clothes—each one either wealthy or influential. Could someone accustomed to lavish feasts really settle for plain vegetables every day?
What they didn't see were the moments under moonlight, in the deep silence of night, when the boy held the girl close, their cheeks touching as they whispered intimately, both unable to restrain their emotions.
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