The next morning was Sunday. Chen Zhu arrived at school in his freshly scented uniform, but instead of going to his classroom, he headed straight onto a coach parked outside the school gates.
SYSU had three campuses in Yuecheng: the South Campus, the North Campus, and the East Campus.
The South Campus was the main campus. The North Campus was tiny, with only the School of Medicine, while the East Campus was the brand-new campus in University Town.
This Appointment with Prestigious Universities event was being held at the main South Campus. For one thing, it had almost a hundred years of history. Its red bricks, green roof tiles, and lush trees gave it that sense of accumulated heritage found only at top universities.
For another, some of SYSU's flagship schools, such as the Lingnan School of Finance, the Institute of Marxism, and the School of Ecological Management, were all on the South Campus, making it easier to showcase its strengths.
Zhixin Middle School was about ten kilometers from the South Campus, so the school had arranged a coach to take them there and back.
After boarding, Chen Zhu discovered that he was actually the first to arrive. That was because Mao Xiaoqin took this even more seriously than he did and had urged him out of bed to wash up early.
Before long, Deng Qian arrived too.
The "Empress Qian," small and skinny but miles ahead of everyone in her grades, boarded while memorizing the English words on a little card in her hand-the ones she had gotten wrong on previous exams.
Once aboard, she merely flicked her eyes up, then picked a seat at random and sat down, as though unwilling to waste even a moment.
Song Shiwei was the third to arrive.
The school beauty was as cool and distant as ever, yet still stunning. Her soft, low ponytail fell to the small of her back, and her face, pale as jade-colored glass, had a delicate, unworldly beauty. She wore a white short-sleeved shirt beneath her uniform. The simple combination looked so clean it was almost luminous, and even without makeup, she effortlessly drew the eye.
Kang Liangsong was the fourth to arrive.
He first surveyed where everyone was sitting. Although there were two seats on each side of every row, the coach had so many empty places that everyone had taken a separate row rather than sitting together.
Kang Liangsong cast a regretful glance at the empty seat beside Song Shiwei, then sat behind her.
Sun Xueyong and Cheng Mengyi from Class Ten were the last to board. Interestingly, although they were classmates too, they did not sit together either.
These top students among top students seemed to each be a "circle" unto themselves. None needed to please anyone else or latch onto anyone.
Once Cao Jingjun, the head of their year, arrived, the coach set off. He was the teacher leading the trip that day and was responsible for supervising them.
After they had been driving for a while, Cao Jingjun turned around and said conversationally, "You're visiting SYSU today, and a good friend of mine, Qi Zheng, happens to work there. We were university classmates and slept in the same bunk bed..."
Anyone who had attended middle or high school knew that teachers loved two kinds of boasting.
The first was, "So-and-so and I were classmates"-or deskmates, or from the same hometown. This so-and-so might be somewhat famous or have a little social standing. Either way, the teacher loved sharing stories about their past together.
The second was, "My child..." Then, somehow, half the lesson would be spent boasting about the child's achievements: education, filial devotion, or talents.
Cao clearly wanted to talk about his brotherly bond with Qi Zheng at SYSU, but unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong audience.
Were Deng Qian, Song Shiwei, Kang Liangsong, Sun Xueyong, and Cheng Mengyi really the sort to listen to him brag?
Empress Qian, busy memorizing, did not even lift her head.
Song Shiwei merely glanced at him before turning back to the window.
Kang Liangsong was occupied with sneaking looks at Song Shiwei from behind.
Sun Xueyong and Cheng Mengyi looked similarly uninterested.
At that moment, Director Cao might even have missed the students in the regular classes who liked chiming in. At least he would not have had to perform a one-man comedy routine like this.
In the end, Chen Zhu's kind heart-or perhaps his old muscle memory still doing its work-prompted him to start subtly playing the supportive sidekick.
"Really, Mr. Cao?"
"What happened after that?"
"That must have been tough for you back then, Mr. Cao."
These little conversational prompts worked like lubricant. Whenever Cao Jingjun needed to keep going, Chen Zhu thoughtfully offered him a step up.
The more Cao Jingjun talked, the happier and more animated he became. Perhaps joy really did turn to sorrow, because he eventually changed tack and said wistfully, "It's just a shame that he's a leader and teacher at SYSU now, while I can only teach at a high school."
Chen Zhu froze for a moment. Come on, Cao, that's not fair.
I've kept propping up everything you said so none of it fell flat. Couldn't we just enjoy a bit of boasting? Now you suddenly start feeling sorry for yourself. Aren't you putting me on the spot?
Actually, after their brief exchange, Chen Zhu also felt that Cao's abilities were limited. He had probably become head of the year through seniority.
But if Chen Zhu actually told him to reflect on his own abilities if he felt he had done poorly in life, he would offend Cao Jingjun beyond repair.
Of course, empty consolations like "As long as you're happy, there's no need to envy others..." were no good either. They would accomplish nothing.
"Hmm..."
Chen Zhu considered his words, then said, "Mr. Cao, I think those are different things. If we compare students to trees, middle and high school students are undoubtedly the hardest to teach. They're still so young that they need the gardener to water them, fertilize them, and remove pests every day."
"By the time they reach university, the trees have more or less taken shape. All they need then is the occasional pruning. So purely in terms of teaching and nurturing students, the effort and care you put in, and your contribution to education, are far greater than your classmate's."
Chen Zhu spoke slowly, sounding sincere and earnest.
Cao Jingjun had really just let slip a middle-aged man's sigh over his current lot in life.
There might have been a little regret mixed in too. If he had not made some wrong choice back then, perhaps he would be working and teaching at SYSU as well.
But he had never expected a student like Chen Zhu to comfort him from such a warm perspective.
It felt incredibly good to hear.
"Ahem..."
Cao Jingjun cleared his throat twice to settle the little stir of emotion inside him, then told Chen Zhu with a serious, proper expression, "You can't put it that way. University is a very important part of your lives too. You still need to buckle down, study hard, and do your experiments..."
Despite saying that, Director Cao seemed to have accepted that university teachers merely pruned a few branches and leaves, contributing far less to education than he did.
Chen Zhu and Cao Jingjun chatted with increasing ease, and soon the coach arrived at the gates of SYSU's South Campus.
Because of the Appointment with Prestigious Universities event, the campus roads were lined with coaches, and plenty of final-year high school students stood around in all kinds of uniforms.
After getting off, Chen Zhu looked around.
Besides their own group of high school seniors, their faces still marked by youthful inexperience, there were even more South Campus university students coming and going.
They studied this group of potential future juniors with curiosity, smiles, and friendly expressions.
Beside some of the campus's scenic spots, several couples in wedding attire were having their wedding photos taken.
There were also pedestrians who were clearly tourists, pointing things out as they took photographs.
Beside East Lake, a girl was playing the violin. A gentle breeze rippled past, her skirt fluttered, and nearby students listened with their eyes closed.
An atmosphere of freedom, comfort, and refinement radiated through the lush campus.
Universities really were more pleasant in 2007.
That was what Chen Zhu thought.
By 2024, universities no longer allowed outsiders to come and go freely, citing students' health and safety. What should have been the freest place in the world had ended up sealed behind walls.
"Cao, I've been waiting ages for you. Come on, let's sit down in my office..."
Just then, a middle-aged man in a jacket approached and shook Cao Jingjun's hand. He was presumably Qi Zheng, that old university classmate of his at SYSU.
One look was enough for Chen Zhu to tell that he was not really a teacher. He probably worked in administration. There was a distinctly bureaucratic air about him, and Chen Zhu knew that scent all too well.
Qi Zheng invited Cao Jingjun to his office. Cao Jingjun hesitated at first; after all, he still had six students here.
"What are you worried about? They're not going to get lost at SYSU."
Qi Zheng persuaded him, "They'll be going on a tour shortly anyway. There's not much point in you tagging along."
Cao Jingjun thought that made sense. His gaze swept over the students before he hastily settled on Chen Zhu. "Chen Zhu, keep everyone together. We'll go for lunch when I get back."
Compared with the other students, Chen Zhu gave him the impression of being a little more mature and having some organizational ability.
With that, Cao Jingjun was about to follow his old classmate to the office.
What? You haven't even made the time and place clear.
Chen Zhu hurriedly called him back. "Mr. Cao, is it just as you arranged on the way here? If we get separated, we should all meet and wait where we got off the coach at eleven thirty?"
Cao Jingjun paused, then nodded. "Yes, exactly."
"Chen Zhu."
Beside him, Kang Liangsong pushed up his glasses and asked with a frown, "When did Mr. Cao arrange that? How come I didn't know?"
(There will be another chapter at eight tonight.)
(End of chapter.)
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