In conclusion, to sum up.
Lu Yibei's courses for the first semester of his sophomore year have all come to an end, and are now categorized as the "final chapter".
Next up is the "Winter Break Edition," which will begin its full-fledged serialization.
Holiday—what a wonderful word.
But just as the holiday began, a strange sense of loneliness and sadness enveloped it.
And all of this is Chu Laomei's fault.
She truly deserves to be called a powerful singer of the new generation; her emotions are incredibly rich.
Singing "Like Smoke" turned "winter vacation" into "graduation"—she'll definitely have a place among the top ten singers of Jiangnan University next year.
The most amazing thing is that she didn't even finish singing.
Halfway through the karaoke session, the system reminded me to renew my subscription.
By then, it was almost time.
Everyone started packing their things to go back to school to get their luggage and then catch a bus.
It maximizes the sense of fragmentation, highlighting the idea that "imperfect youth is true youth."
It was as if the nine of them, once they left this door, would go their separate ways.
But in reality, not long after Lu Yibei returned to Chaocheng, Liu Jie, who had already arrived home, was already shouting in the dormitory group chat to log in.
For these pure-hearted male college students, winter vacation and attending classes are just different places to play games.
Warcraft remains Warcraft, and those who are still honing their skills are still honing their skills.
There's nothing to be sad about.
Rather, I'd say—double my winter break! Don't let them see those hateful faces so soon!!
The weather was nice for the first few days of winter break.
Completely relaxed, Lu Yibei and Ji Qingqian had nothing to do and spent their days at home eating and waiting to die.
—Etc., etc.
—Is something missing?
—Let's rewind a bit, to the night Lu Yibei had just arrived home.
He held his girlfriend's hand as they walked into the house.
"Auntie, we're back."
I'm not alone anymore.
Now, every time I come back, I use "we" instead of just "I".
The elderly person in the family came out of the kitchen, a faint smile on their face.
"You're back! It's good to be back. We can eat right away."
"You must have had a long journey."
"I made all of your favorite dishes today, Qianqian."
Lu Yibei looked constipated.
It wasn't "I" who came back, or even "we," but "she."
Grandma completely ignored him, her grandson.
It was as if Ji Qingqian was their only treasure.
"--Grass."
Thinking of this, Lu Yibei couldn't help but curse out loud even after two days.
Ji Qingqian, who was lying on the sofa with him, responded in response:
"I don't."
Lu Yibei: ...
The sofa in the living room is shaped like half of the Chinese character "口" (mouth).
Lu Yibei lay horizontally, while Ji Qingqian lay vertically.
He strained his waist slightly, lifting his neck and head to look towards his girlfriend.
Although Lady Ji answered casually, her tone was actually somewhat nonchalant.
She was flipping through a small notebook.
Lu Yibei looked familiar.
She somehow found his old composition notebooks.
Or perhaps, Grandma found it somewhere and handed it to this girl.
Lu Yibei felt a little numb.
He still wasn't used to having someone read his writing in person.
Fortunately, it was just a composition book. If she found out his pseudonym and started reading his online novels aloud, even though this was the third floor, Lu Yibei would be so ashamed that he would jump down.
"You used to keep weekly journals?" Ji Qingqian asked.
"It's an assignment from Chinese class," Lu Yibei said. It seemed to be something from junior high school. One year during summer vacation, he went straight back to Chaocheng.
I left my things here.
"Wow, Lu has always had such beautiful handwriting since he was little."
Ji Qingqian chuckled softly: "Just as beautiful as a person~"
"Thank you for the compliment, Teacher Ji," Lu Yibei said. "Unfortunately, I'm not quite as good as Teacher Ji—I'm talking about people."
"I would be happier if you deleted what came after your dash."
Ji Qingqian rolled her eyes coldly. Wasn't this just a roundabout way of saying her handwriting was bad? She flipped through the small notebook in her hand, picked out a passage and began to read: "'You won second place in the battle against mosquitoes. The champion is the mosquito.' Mosquitoes really messed with you. You really kicked a cotton ball."
“‘Bold, avant-garde, and daring to expose reality—in Japanese literature, these slogans would be interpreted as juvenile delinquency or homosexuality; in Western literature, they would be seen as criticizing the president.’”
"'Since Su Shi had so many friends, why didn't he call himself Su Youpeng?' -- What kind of nonsense are you writing, Abei?"
If Ji Qingqian hadn't read it aloud herself, even Lu Yibei would have forgotten that he had ever written these things.
"It's just a weekly journal entry, I just wrote whatever came to mind," Lu Yibei said, scratching the back of his head.
Ji Qingqian casually flipped through a few more pages.
She couldn't say whether Abei's writing was good or bad.
Moreover, even though Abei now makes a living through writing, he still describes his own writing style as "a mess."
In his own words, "Fortunately, online novels don't place much emphasis on writing style these days, otherwise I would definitely starve to death."
Ji Qingqian turned the pages one by one.
However, some of the articles were exceptionally vivid, as if they were right in front of her.
"Because of the storyboard."
Lu Yibei said. He rarely discussed work with Ms. Ji. In fact, she didn't read many online novels, but since she was interested, Lu Yibei told her: "Storyboarding is probably the only thing I write well. Maybe it's because I read more comics than novels when I was a child, plus I watched a lot of movies. Those are things that require a sense of imagery, so my control over words is not good, but my sense of imagery is okay."
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