NOVEL WEB Ch. 5
Chapter 5
Watching Xiao Lin raise his hand toward her, Chen Zhijing instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling.
Her feet tried to step back—then froze.
No running away. Whatever Xiao Lin did, she would not run.
Eyes still closed, bracing for the punishment she thought she deserved, she felt warm fingers settle gently on top of her head.
When she dared to look, the reflection in her pupils was Lin Zhe’s gentle smile.
“Making a friend—that’s wonderful. Now I can stop worrying.”
He rubbed her small head like a big brother praising a kid sister.
Up until the day before university check-in, while he was still “patching” Chen Zhijing, he’d wondered whether this girl could ever find friends in college.
Now it seemed the patched-up Chen Zhijing really was moving forward, no longer hiding inside her tiny world.
The words left her stunned; she’d been sure Xiao Lin was angry.
After all, what sort of girlfriend forgets something that important?
If their positions were reversed, she would have been heartbroken.
Yet Xiao Lin wasn’t angry at all.
Happy as she was, for some reason his figure suddenly felt farther away.
Face pink, she gave a tiny nod. “Mm.”
Up ahead, Yang Zhen and his girlfriend had been sneaking glances.
When Zhao Lin saw Lin Zhe smile and pat Chen Zhijing’s head, her maiden heart imploded—
So sweet!
I’m shipping them!
The next second Chen Zhijing’s bliss flipped to panic; students were staring.
All those eyes turned her brain to yarn; she grabbed Lin Zhe’s sleeve.
If only the ground would swallow her.
“Xiao Lin...” Pupils shaking, she whispered and ducked behind him.
Only then did Lin Zhe realize how couple-y they must look—and with her social anxiety, of course she’d short-circuit.
He laced his fingers through hers and bolted for the canteen.
They found a quiet corner; he texted Yang Zhen.
Minutes later the other two arrived.
“You two sure ran fast,” Zhao Lin laughed, plopping down beside Chen Zhijing.
The boys headed for the food line.
Lin Zhe glanced back: Chen Zhijing sat meekly, head down.
Progress, he thought. She used to eat lunch hidden away with nothing but bread.
The dorm head, watching the boys leave, poked Chen Zhijing’s cheek. “Made up, huh?”
Chen Zhijing, brain crashed, had retreated inside her shell.
He patted my head... in front of everyone...
Joy and mortification whirled together.
Zhao Lin sighed. “Ah... Xiao Jing’s gone all frozen again.”
After a quick breakfast they split for their separate companies; none of them shared a major.
Before leaving, Lin Zhe asked Zhao Lin to keep an eye on Chen Zhijing—military training would be tough on a girl who feared crowds.
She was in Fine Arts, he in Film & TV directing; they wouldn’t be training together.
On the way to the drill ground Yang Zhen slung an arm around Lin Zhe’s neck. “Xiao Lin, who knew?”
According to Zhao Lin the two had only “had a tiny tiff,” which explained their vanishing act the other night.
Lin Zhe exhaled; if Chen Zhijing hadn’t recovered those memories, they’d still be strangers.
They reached Third Company, First Platoon. Liu Xuefei and Han Xinglong were right next door in Second and Third Platoons—close enough.
Film & TV had plenty of girls; the gender ratio was almost even, unlike Civil Engineering or Electromechanical—packs of wolves circling scarce meat.
But under the training uniforms everyone looked the same.
After picking up their instructor came the opening ceremony—Lihai University style: no principal, no parade of school leaders.
A tall, thin old man simply waved at the thousand-strong student sea and spoke into the mic:
“Welcome to Lihai University. I’ll keep it short—everything else is in your freshman handbook.”
“Whatever your reasons, I hope you’ll come to love Lihai University.”
“That’s it—ceremony over. Go do whatever you’re supposed to do next.”
Only three short sentences, yet they proved the Old Principal still understood young people.
The moment he finished, the Old Principal led the deans and school brass off the stage.
Lin Zhe picked up the freshman handbook he’d just been handed, flipped past the fly-leaf and table of contents, and landed on a gallery of portraits: the president and every senior administrator, names and photos included.
The entire opening ceremony lasted barely an hour. Most of that time, however, had been swallowed by lining up the formations; getting hundreds of rookies neat and synchronized was the instructors’ first real test.
After the ceremony came the guided campus crawl. Professional guides and drill instructors shepherded the students through every landmark and exhibition hall. Even so, it took the whole day.
“Consider this your first taste of discipline,” the instructor told them.
It was past five when they finally trudged out of the University Museum. By then most of the freshmen were half-dead.
The instructor barked Third Company First Platoon back into line, then cut them loose in a voice like a bronze bell:
“Dismissed! Be on the southeast corner of the drill ground at 0800 sharp tomorrow!”
A full day on foot—practically a field march. Even Yang Zhen, built like the sports-club poster boy, was wobbling. He floated over to Lin Zhe, face green.