Chapter 58 Who Made the Bed?

Stepping off the train, a salty sea breeze washed over him.

Xia An sniffed—yes, that very familiar scent of rotting seafood.

The scene he had envisioned in his daydreams—arriving to see a decked-out, flamboyant Tang Xiaowan and riding into campus in a luxurious Bentley—did not materialize.

Like a patient tortoise, he wore two large bags slung diagonally across his body, pulled a suitcase along behind him, and plunged into the crowd carrying a super-heavy load.

After a few steps, he could no longer walk.

He called Tang Xiaowan, but the call was immediately hung up and returned with a text: *Busy.*

Xia An chuckled, put away his phone, and continued his wretched journey out of the station.

During the five-hour train ride, he had pondered quite a few things.

What Tang Wan wanted from Xia An was absolute sincerity in exchange for sincerity, thereby eliminating her psychological complex regarding their age gap.

She had left this formally designated one-month reflection period for both herself and Xia An. To put it bluntly, the young woman was a bit insecure and just cared about saving face.

Registration was today and tomorrow, with military training starting the day after.

He told himself—he must win over Tang Wan within two days.

Only by doing so could he leave enough time before Liu You returned to campus to tie down the stubborn little Le Ning.

Lately, the three heroines had each been busy with their own affairs, completely wasting a summer vacation.

Now, time was tight and the task was heavy; Xia An had to formulate a reasonable scumbag strategy that could be executed strictly according to schedule.

Otherwise, once Tang Wan and Le Ning started tearing at each other before little Youzi returned and before the fires of war even made contact, eight out of ten... no, ninety-nine out of a hundred chances it would all end in complete ruin.

At that point, would he save the mother or the child?

Both sides of the palm are made of flesh.

Thinking all the way, Xia An asked himself countless times: which one could he bear to let go?

There was no answer to this question.

So he changed his perspective and asked again.

Would they ever find a man more suitable and better to them than him?

To this, there was a definitive answer:

Compete in excellence with a time-traveler?

Nonsense.

Who could understand Le Ning's persistence, and the true and profound depth of her affection, better than he did?

Who could feel a deeper sense of shame and heartbreak for her half-lifetime of waiting than he did?

Who could be more skilled at carefully nurturing the little Youzi who had once shattered into pieces?

Who, other than a time-traveler, would dare without hesitation to touch the young aunt who wasn't actually all that strong?

Tang Wan—Xia An firmly believed that her feelings for him were the same as his feelings for little Youzi.

The anchor point of rebirth.

...

Year after year, it was always the same.

Right outside the exit, senior volunteers could be seen holding up welcome signs.

These people were generally upperclassmen from the Student Union's Living Department and Sports Department.

They were all warm-hearted.

They wouldn't refuse to help you move your luggage just because you were a guy, nor would they refuse to help girls just because their parents were with them.

Xia An had taken this exact train when he registered in his past life, but he hadn't carried this much luggage back then.

The reason was that, lacking the courage to confess directly back then, he hadn't left a message under her blog post saying "I like you."

Consequently, Liu You hadn't felt embarrassed enough to mail so many things to her parents either.

Conversely, Wei Xiaofang hadn't prepared too much for Liu You either.

With the help of two upperclassmen, Xia An boarded the welcome bus.

The senior female student recording names and hometowns had a pure look to her, unmistakably a college student at first glance.

Holding a small notebook, she asked Xia An, "Which department?"

"School of Fine Arts," Xia An replied.

The senior sister gave him a long, deep look.

Xia An understood the meaning behind that look.

Art students generally came from relatively well-off family backgrounds. In most cases, local students drove their own cars to campus, while those from out of town basically flew in, and airports had welcome volunteers too.

It wasn't that taking the train was unheard of, just relatively rare.

Stationed there all morning, the girl had only received five fine arts freshmen.

Forty minutes later, once full, the bus departed.

Inside the bus, there was only the chatter of parents; the green, bashful freshmen were too shy to converse with one another.

Unbothered by anyone, Xia An sat by the window, quietly studying the familiar yet unfamiliar streetscape outside.

In his previous life, Xia An had lived in Binhai for another six years after graduation before beginning a long period of wandering without a fixed home.

He was crystal clear on the city's infrastructure development trends for the next dozen or so years.

Due to geological challenges, not a single subway line had been built yet.

He knew precisely where land would be reclaimed to build housing estates, and where the new airport was planned.

Even the preliminary policy regulations for the Free Trade Zone—

All of these things were intimately familiar to him.

...

After the millennium, an increasing number of students from the Northeast chose to move south or pass through the mountain pass after graduation, resulting in a severe brain drain.

At the request of the Education Bureau, the welcome buses sent by various schools were required to take a detour along Binhai Road before entering campus.

This was a little trick employed by the local authorities to retain talent.

A variant of the honey trap—the scenery trap.

Sea and sky blending into one, dense forests everywhere, brushed by the autumn breeze, sighs of admiration rose and fell inside the bus.

Bored with the view, Xia An actively yielded his seat to an auntie who was practically leaning over him.

Struggling free from beneath a pair of bountiful breasts, the girl sitting by the aisle blushed and nodded apologetically to Xia An.

When Xia An swapped seats with her, he glanced at her—she was neither ugly nor particularly pretty.

The girl clearly wanted to say something to the roguish yet handsome Xia An.

After hesitating over and over, she ultimately just handed him a piece of Wrigley's Doublemint gum.

In a voice no louder than a mosquito's buzz, she uttered: "I'm sorry, thank you."

This combination of five words was quite strange.

Moreover, he could tell at a glance that this girl was still completely in a middle- or high-school mindset.

Green, far too green.

Xia An sighed inwardly. A month? Three months? A semester?

University was a giant juicer; no matter what kind of fruit you were, ripe or not, within a year at most, you would be crushed and reorganized—either physically, psychologically, or both—truly propelling you into the next stage of life.

Xia An politely refused: "I have diabetes."

There were simply too many private cars, and the bus ended up stuck right at the school gate.

Parents and students got off one after another, but Xia An remained seated motionless.

He only followed them out once the volunteers returned to help lighten his load.

The college gates in the year 2006 still separated two worlds with completely different values.

Before even stepping inside, Xia An could hear the sound of youthful, spirited music.

—*In my territory, you have to listen to me...*

Colorful banners fluttered in the wind; sunshades and private cars formed long lines along the pedestrian walkways and the road respectively.

Right at the entrance was a permanent promotional booth set up by China Mobile for the start of the semester.

Launched in 2003 and keeping its logo until 2020, the M-zone brand was a youthful, modern communication package tailored specifically for college students.

It emphasized individuality and fashion.

It had even invited Jay Chou, the hottest star of the moment, to be its inaugural spokesperson.

The package cost 38 yuan a month, an amount virtually impossible to use up.

Xia An had too much luggage and felt bad troubling his two brawny page-boys to trudge along with him.

He said, "I'll handle the SIM card stuff myself later. Let's go register first."

"Then should the two of us thank you?"

Xia An knew the way. Dragging his oversized suitcase, he walked faster than them and was the first to find the registration desk for the School of Fine Arts.

After signing his name, Xia An requested a process sheet. Without needing any guidance from the two laborers, he skillfully ran from building to building.

The two upperclassmen chased after him.

Binhai University was the largest comprehensive university in the city by area, with a student and faculty population of forty-two thousand.

In less than an hour, Xia An had acquired a souvenir—a large washbasin—and headed straight for the dormitory building.

"Wait, have you been here before or something?"

The upperclassmen were panting heavily from exhaustion.

Xia An smiled and said he had.

The dormitory area was relatively quiet; a gentle breeze rustled, and mottled tree shadows divided light from shadow.

The wheels of the freshmen's suitcases played a uniform tune, and laughter filled the world.

There was no ivory tower, no nameless lake.

Only endless pathways beneath the camphor trees, walked by generation after generation of flamboyant young men and women.

Room 515's door was closed, unlocked, left with a crack.

Standing at the doorway, Xia An heard the voices coming from inside.

Very familiar.

Three people—they should all be here.

"Thanks, you two upperclassmen. I'll treat you to some 'Small Hair Ties' when I get the chance."

"Small Hair Ties" was a barbecue joint on the food street most popular with students.

Thanking the two laborers, Xia An told them they could just leave the luggage bags on the hallway floor.

"Don't mention it, we're heading out."

The upperclassmen had no idea that a single remark from them had caused them to miss out not just on a meal of drinks, but also an opportunity of a lifetime.

Xia An pushed open the door.

Against the backlight were the sturdy silhouettes of three old friends.

Before he could even speak, he heard: "Holy shit! You're finally here. You must be Xia An? Awesome!"

The speaker was a solidly built chubby guy, Qi Buyang.

The other two, equally striking in looks, walked over to express their friendliness to the unfamiliar Xia An and helped him lift his suitcase.

Xia An didn't stand on ceremony, telling Lu Fei and Lu Yao, "There are three more bags by the wall outside the door."

Then, looking at Qi Buyang, he smiled with the composure of an elder: "I am Xia An."

He knew what Qi Buyang was shouting "Holy shit" about.

He glanced sideways toward his own bed.

Heh, sure enough.

Little Le Ning had already been here.

The four-piece bedding set on the bed was neatly arranged...

Eh? Wait.

Xia An paused, smiling.

He remembered that in his past life, Le Ning had bought him a plain dark blue linen set.

Why this time... the color was about right, but there were a few more Doraemons?

Acting like an old friend right off the bat, Qi Buyang threw his bare arm around Xia An's shoulders.

Winking suggestively, he asked, "Is that girl your girlfriend?"

Oh? They had run into Le Ning?

Qi Buyang continued: "Pretty, really pretty. From our school? Which department? When I tried talking to her earlier, she didn't even pay attention to me."

Xia An nodded with a smile: "Yeah, my girlfriend. She's from our department."

"Whoa... a senior? Junior or senior year?"

Junior or senior year?! A senior?!

Xia An was baffled. Had Le Ning switched to a mature style?

Just as he was about to speak,

he heard a sound in the hallway—footsteps that did not belong to a guy,

followed by a soft, gentle, lingering, and clear voice: "You're here?"

Stiffly, Xia An slowly turned around, and saw a slender figure gradually walking out of the dimness of the hallway.

It was a dress, a one-piece dress.

Snow-white canvas shoes.

Her graceful curves, illuminated by the intersecting light and shadows pouring through the dorm window, revealed depth, shade, undulations, and contours...

Carrying a slender flute case strapped to her back and holding a brand-new four-piece bedding set in her arms, little Le Ning with her high ponytail stepped gracefully over the threshold.

Qi Buyang and Lu Yao drew sharp breaths.

They were astonished both that yet another stunning beauty had come to make Xia An's bed, and astonished that yet another fucking beauty had come to make Xia An's bed?!

Only the good-looking Lu Fei scratched his head blankly and asked Xia An, "Should I put the bags inside the closet?"