Bai Jia Yuan hotel was a good distance away from Zhang Yang’s school. Although he had the 50 yuan Liu Biao had lent him, it was supposed to be food money! Zhang Yang refused to use it on a taxi. So, he hoofed it. For over an hour. Up until this point, Zhang Yang had ridden a train for hours, laid on his bed for less than three hours, gotten up to do morning exercises, and then read for an entire day. Although his stomach was full, he had barely gotten any sleep. After such a long day, Zhang Yang was close to being cold and miserable. Truly, misery was just moments away.
So when Zhang Yang finally stumbled into his dorm, he immediately collapsed into bed. He had zero energy left. Not even for a shower. With just that rueful thought, Zhang Yang tumbled into sleep.
He slept like the dead until 7:00 AM the next day. If it wasn’t for the pressure of his bladder trying to burst at the seams, he wouldn’t have even woken up. The sun had already risen and the sky was bright with color. Despite that, Zhang Yang intended to sleep as long as possible. So, after relieving himself, Zhang Yang shuffled back to bed. But no matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep continued to elude him. Of course, this struggle went unnoticed from his roommates. Ever since Zhang Yang reminded them they were seniors, his roommates had feigned death every chance they could get.
In the following days, outside of attending a couple of vocational courses and buying food, Zhang Yang practically never left his dorm. Every day, he immersed himself in the mathematics book, unable to free himself from it’s mesmerizing attraction. He had examined Xiao Yi Ran’s copy of A Basic Study on Thought and Methodology from front to back countless times, yet he still couldn’t put it down. He could never have imagined that such a dry topic like mathematics could hold so many interesting details.
His roommates didn’t pay any attention to him. Their senior lives were full of diverse happenings and vivid colors; the majority of them even had girlfriends. In dorm 512, it was only Zhang Yang who spent every single day cooped up reading a book.
Zhang Yang majored in Fine Arts, and, as such, he had a lot of freedom and space to do whatever he wanted. Normally, he’d just carry a sketch pad and randomly wander around all day. Truthfully, Zhang Yang wasn’t particularly interested in his major. After all, when he had signed up for Fine Arts, he’d just randomly filled it in without much thought or care.
But recently, extreme interest and excitement filled Zhang Yang to the brim. Stumbling across this math book and learning the knowledge within its pages had become the oasis for his dry and thirsty soul. For the first time, he felt like he truly experienced the art and wonder of mathematics. And for the first time ever, Zhang Yang finally found interest in something.
A door to brand new possibilities had opened before Zhang Yang. And without even a nanosecond’s hesitation, he’d taken a step through that door. The basic theories and calculations, the wonderful thrilling world of math, interacted with the deep and mysterious knowledge within Zhang Yang’s head, helping the two sources of knowledge fully assimilate inside him.
However, Xiao Yi Ran’s book had become a sorry sight. It was covered in Zhang Yang’s dense and messy scribbles. During those brief occasions when Zhang Yang was lucid and paused to think, and thus noticing all of his fevered notes, alarm filled him. Each time, he called upon himself to make extra effort to avoid leaving more marks in the book. However, as soon as he lost himself in the world of math, his pen would naturally begin marking down his thoughts and theories.
Zhang Yang’s mind had become like a computer that held vast stores of knowledge. The only thing missing was a search engine to find the information he needed. And A Basic Study on Thoughts and Methodology was the perfect search engine for his brain.
A human’s thirst for knowledge was an intrinsic characteristic every human was born with; however, due to variances in upbringing and environment, every person’s experience with learning and knowledge manifested differently. For example, someone might like drawing and may even possess a great talent for it. However, depending on that person’s environment, their talent and enthusiasm could be buried, never to be seen.
In this world, outside of the mentally challenged and the insane, everyone had the potential to shine in a particular field of study. Of course, intellect and effort determined the magnitude of one’s achievement.
With all of this and more in mind, Zhang Yang studied and studied. And then four more days passed.
He lifted his head from the book, and as if waking for the first time, he looked around. “Is there any food?” After squeezing the empty bread bag, Zhang Yang rubbed his stomach. He tried to keep reading, but then all of the numbers in the book turned into roasted ducks and chickens as a wave of extreme hunger slammed into him.
With the present time’s inflation, it was a miracle that Zhang Yang was able to subsist for four days off of the 50 yuan that Liu Biao had given him.
He couldn’t procrastinate any longer; he had to retrieve his wallet!
Zhang Yang sadly rubbed his stomach once again before climbing out of bed. He showered and brushed his teeth before putting on a clean set of clothes. In fact, Zhang Yang seemed to have a severe case of split personality disorder. He’d spent days cooped up in his dorm while ignoring everything, including people, food, and personal hygiene. Yet, with barely a thought, he’d already fixed himself up to be socially acceptable. He truly looked like two completely different people.
Since it was already afternoon, there wouldn’t be very many students wandering around the campus as most of them were in class at that very moment.
Zhang Yang originally planned to go steal a bite to eat from the old man gate guard, but Zhang Yang decided to recover his wallet instead. In the end, even if he got a meal from the old man, it was still only one meal. Regardless, he had to retrieve his wallet. Furthermore, he couldn’t keep eating bread every day. Plus, the deadline for his school and dorm fees was due soon.
Was it the Department of Chinese Language and Literature? Zhang Yang patted his head. He remembered that girl had said she was a second year student in the Chinese Department, which meant she should be a third year student now.
After figuring this out, Zhang Yang leisurely made his way to the Chinese Department. He had already spent over three years at this school, so he naturally knew his way around.
As they say, hard work pays off, so it wasn’t long until Zhang Yang found the girl inside a classroom. She sat in the third row and was studiously taking notes while listening to the bespectacled professor’s lecture.
‘The heavens are aiding me!’ Zhang Yang exclaimed to himself with joy.
And, look, there was actually an empty seat next to that girl. Thank the heavens Zhang Yang was able to find her so quickly. While the professor turned to write something on the blackboard, Zhang Yang snuck in and sat next to her, ignoring the stares of the rest of the class.
Although Zhang Yang was afraid of Xiao Yi Ran, he wasn’t afraid of some random junior. No matter what, he was a fourth year senior now, an old youtiao.  He had no reason to be afraid of this third year junior.
“This seat’s already taken.” The female student turned towards Zhang Yang, but when she saw it was him, she let out a yelp. Her peers, who had been focused on the professor’s lecture, suddenly turned all of their attention toward her. Her face blushed with embarrassment.
Zhang Yang shifted his body to the side and removed the book he’d sat on. When he’d looked inside the classroom, he hadn’t seen the book resting on the chair. Clearly, she was saving the seat for someone.
The white-bearded professor turned from the blackboard and stared down Zhang Yang. “This student—what are your thoughts on the following verse, ‘Jing Kang’s humiliation, snow has yet to fall; minister’s hate has yet to resolve!’?” 
Instantly, the entire class focused on Zhang Yang instead of the girl by his side. Many eyes were even filled with condescending laughter. Everyone here recognized Zhang Yang, and several little sisters even had gazes filled with furious sparks. They were all victims of Zhang Yang’s voyeuristic photos.
Feeling awkward, Zhang Yang coughed a couple times, trying to hide his discomfort. But he stood up to answer anyway, his face turning red in a rare show of embarrassment. “This…I don’t really like it…”
“You don’t like Yue Fei’s poem?”  The professor gave him a blank stare.
“Oh, it’s Yue Fei.” Zhang Yang finally realized his mistake.
The class was instantly filled with raucous laughter. Even the girl sitting next to Zhang Yang couldn’t help but laugh while covering her mouth. Everyone could see that Zhang Yang had no idea what he was talking about. A majority of them wore expressions of superiority and disdain. A Fine Arts student attending a Chinese literature lecture? What a joke.
“Student, why don’t you like Yue Fei? Could you explain?” The old professor adjusted his glasses, interest clear on his face. Evidently, this guy was an antique who only buried himself in academics and research. He didn’t even recognize Zhang Yang, the most famous lecher on campus.
“That is, ummm…” Zhang Yang’s mind blanked. He lowered his head to the girl at his side, his gaze pleading for help.
Seeing Zhang Yang look at her, the girl’s face became red once again. Overwhelmed by the attention, she merely made a motion at the blackboard.
 A youtiao is a long deep-fried fritter. Zhang Yang is saying that he’s comparatively old and experienced compared to this student.
 “Jing Kang” was the name of the first year of the North Song Dynasty’s calendar (kind of like a.d. or b.c.) They were invaded and conquered in this year, which is the humiliation being referred to. “Snow has yet to fall” means that this humiliation hasn’t been repaid yet. A minister of the North Song Dynasty wrote this verse, and he is referring to his own hatred for the invaders, which is yet to be resolved since he is powerless to take revenge.
 Yue Fei is the author of the above verse that the professor had asked Zhang Yang to discuss.