C University was a century-old school, located in the city center of Xiajing City, a quiet spot amidst the bustle.

Looking in from the main gate, beyond the golden plaque was a long, tree-lined road. Students rode bicycles, weaving through the university campus, and the crisp, pleasant ringing of bicycle bells echoed along the shaded path.

The International Finance classroom was a large lecture hall with several hundred seats.

Lu Yan deliberately took a photo before going in.

To show that the photo was taken just now, he stuck two fingers in the center of the lens in a V-sign.

[Lu Yan]: [/Image].

[Lu Yan]: Arrived.

It took half an hour for Xiao Heng to reply.

[Xiao Heng]: No need to send it to me.

Lu Yan sat in the back row of the classroom, listening to the old professor on the stage lecture on "Financial Relations and International Currency" in the International Finance class.

It didn't really matter what was being taught, as he couldn't understand it anyway.

Lu Yan propped his head up with one hand and typed a reply with the other: This is my professional spirit.

Halfway through the class, the old professor turned off the PPT.

"Next, everyone take out a piece of paper... I won't do a roll call, there are too many of you and it would take too long. For the rest of the time, just write a short in-class essay. Write your name and student ID on it, and turn it in to me all at once after class."

The old professor: "Choose your own topic, just discuss what you thought about this class."

There was an in-class assignment.

Lu Yan thought he could just copy some stuff from the internet.

But the old professor added: "You can't copy from the internet. I'll be able to tell at a glance. It doesn't matter how you write, as long as you write it yourself. Let's just treat this as an exchange and discussion, don't feel any psychological burden."

Lu Yan felt like he had encountered the second arduous challenge of his part-time career. Everyone lowered their heads and began writing furiously. Lu Yan exited the Baidu page on his phone and reported to his boss: [Lu Yan]: There's an in-class assignment to turn in.

[Lu Yan]: I've never studied this... If you trust me, I'll just wing it?

[Xiao Heng]: Do whatever.

...This client was as difficult to talk to as ever.

Lu Yan put his phone aside and started to ponder how to write the short essay.

He didn't understand finance, so Lu Yan could only find another way. Thus, apart from his name, student ID, and title, he wrote the first paragraph: My greatest impression from this class is your scholarly demeanor and profound knowledge, professor. Peaches and plums do not speak, yet a path is born beneath them. You are an engineer of the human soul, you spread the kindling of wisdom, you are a guiding beacon in the vast ocean, you are like the first ray of sunlight in the morning, shining upon me.

...

There was only one long class for the whole morning.

[Lu Yan]: Class is over.

[Lu Yan]: Are you paying or is your brother paying?

The money was transferred over cleanly.

[Xiao Heng]: [Transfer].

Lu Yan walked out, accepted the transferred money, and planned to take a bus back.

His sense of direction wasn't strong. It was already a feat for him to find the classroom on his way here. But after exiting from a different door of the academic building, he changed direction and started getting confused.

He didn't know where he had walked to. A short distance ahead was a small plaza.

There was probably some kind of club recruitment activity going on, as several rows of booths were set up in the plaza.

It was very lively.

Lu Yan's gaze swept over these booths and finally landed on the two words "Instrument Club."

Recruitment hadn't officially started yet. There were only two or three people at the Instrument Club booth preparing, with music stands and a few instruments.

At the very edge, a short boy in a yellow T-shirt was tuning an instrument.

A bass.

Lu Yan didn't think much of it. Campus clubs were generally amateur level.

Just as he was about to continue looking for his way, the boy, after finishing tuning, casually showed off a bit of slap. Although the amp quality was poor and the sound came out scratchy, in all fairness, this person's playing... was quite good.

His technique was masterful.

While his speed was astonishing, every note was played cleanly and clearly.

This slap segment, which lasted less than thirty seconds, didn't attract much attention because there weren't many people around and the amp's quality was poor. After showing off, the yellow T-shirt guy bent down to take off the strap and handed the bass to the person next to him: "There, it's tuned."

Lu Yan heard the person next to him take the bass and ask: "Aren't you gonna hang out at our booth for a while?"

The yellow T-shirt guy said: "I'm not even in your club, why would I join the fun? I have a class later."

With that, the yellow T-shirt guy turned and entered the restroom in the academic building up ahead.

The guy in the yellow T-shirt probably never imagined in his life that this restroom would be an important turning point in his life. Because when he finished his business and came out of the stall, he saw someone leaning against the wall directly opposite his stall.

A guy.

A guy who was smoking, no less.

The man was wearing a white shirt and looked incredibly clean, yet he exuded an indescribable, contradictory aura.

Seeing him come out, the man stubbed out his cigarette: "I just saw you playing the bass. It was really cool."

The yellow T-shirt guy's heart trembled.

Although Lu Yan usually seemed to have no shame, capable of trying to poach members from the Spades Band, he still felt a bit embarrassed having to pull a stranger aside face-to-face with genuine feelings.

He cleared his throat and began to organize his words, "I'm quite interested in you."

Lu Yan didn't realize how ambiguous his words sounded in this location and under these circumstances, nor did he notice the increasingly strange and terrified expression on the yellow T-shirt guy's face.

"If you're willing... we..." We can be friends, I have a band, would you like to join.

But Lu Yan couldn't finish his sentence. The yellow T-shirt guy directly picked up a nearby mop and held it in front of his chest: "Who are you!"

"Me," Lu Yan was too immersed in his role as a class substitute and said, "Economics department, Xiao Heng."

The author has something to say:

The song is "Don't Cry" by Guns N' Roses.