Chapter 71 What is Love
Chu Yu's appearance was indeed beyond Chu Yan's expectations. Seeing him approach, Chu Yu said a few words to his own people, nodded slightly to the leaders, and left the team.
The two stood under the shade of the sycamore tree beside the playground. The mottled light and shadow cast on Chu Yu's straight suit, softening his cold and hard aura.
"Brother Yu, why are you here?" Chu Yan asked, his eyes sweeping over the group of people not far away who were about to leave. "It's quite a scene."
"We have a collaborative project to discuss with the school's Materials Research Institute," Chu Yu explained succinctly. He was an alumnus of University A, and it was perfectly normal for his industry to collaborate with university research institutes.
Chu Yan nodded in understanding, then a hint of mischief flashed in his eyes, and he asked with a smile, "Apart from that?"
Chu Yu was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Chu Yan's flushed face from the exercise. He pursed his lips, carefully choosing his words before speaking. His tone was his usual steady self, yet it inexplicably tinged with subtle grievance and accusation: "You haven't taught me in a long time."
Chu Yan almost laughed out loud. Who would have thought that Chu Yu, who was such a powerful figure in the business world, would complain about the stagnation of the "Love Teaching" course in such an almost accusatory tone.
"School just started, so I'm a bit busy." Chu Yan explained, readily taking on the role of mentor. "Brother Yu, do you have any other plans today?"
Chu Yu almost immediately shook his head: "No more." In fact, when he decided to come to University A today, he subconsciously cleared his entire schedule for the whole day.
Chu Yan understood. He glanced at the time and suggested, "How about experiencing college life after such a long time? I have a public elective class later."
So, half an hour later, Chu Yu, the high-rolling tech upstart and future leader of the Chu Group, sat down in a public classroom at University A. He'd taken off his suit jacket, leaving him in a neatly pressed white shirt and trousers. But his air of long-held superiority still stood out from the chattering, book-hugging students around him, drawing inquiring glances from the veteran professor on the podium.
The class was "College Chinese," and the lecturer was a rather elegant old man with gray hair and reading glasses. He seemed to be discussing the emotions in classical poetry.
The old professor wrote two powerful characters on the blackboard: Love.
There was a slight commotion and tittering among the students below. Discussing love in a university classroom always easily stirs ripples in the hearts of young people.
Chu Yan rested his chin on one hand, his posture relaxed, seemingly unmoved by the topic. However, Chu Yu, standing beside him, straightened his back slightly at the sight of those two words. His eyes suddenly lit up, and he looked intently at the podium.
Chu Yan watched his reaction clearly and found it quite amusing. He tore off a piece of paper, picked up a pen, and quickly wrote a few words. Then, while the old professor turned around, he gently pushed his finger in front of Chu Yu.
The note read: [Brother Yu, are you so eager to learn?]
Chu Yu finished reading, then glanced sideways at Chu Yan. Chu Yan was looking at him with a smile, his eyes and eyebrows etched with his usual unpredictable playfulness. Chu Yu silently took the pen. His handwriting, like his own, was sharp and steady. He wrote his reply neatly at the bottom of the note and pushed it back.
You don't teach me.
Straightforward and again implicitly accusatory.
Chu Yan looked at the words, as if he could see Chu Yu's expressionless face as he said these words. His evil taste in his heart was greatly satisfied. He continued writing: [Practice makes perfect.]
Chu Yu: [Theory guides practice. And you haven't given me many opportunities to practice.]
The two of them went back and forth, completely immersed in this childish and secretive game of paper slips, thinking their actions were concealed, but unaware that the experienced old professor on the podium had already seen everything in the audience. After all, Chu Yu, this extraordinary "overage student" with extraordinary temperament, was too conspicuous.
The old professor adjusted his glasses, glanced between Chu Yan and Chu Yu, and suddenly stopped lecturing and cleared his throat.
"The student in the white shirt sitting by the window in the back row, yes, the one with the bright smile," the professor pointedly called out, "please answer what love is in your opinion?"
The entire classroom's attention instantly focused on Chu Yan. Chu Yan's smile froze for a moment, and then he stood up helplessly. Chu Yu, on the other hand, curled his lips slightly.
Love is a complex emotional experience composed of passion, intimacy, and commitment. It is essentially the highest form of interpersonal attraction, combining biological instincts with sociocultural attributes. The system only knows Baidu Encyclopedia, so it's completely unreliable.
"What is love?"
Chu Yan repeated this extremely broad question and pondered for a moment. Countless experiences from different worlds, countless faces he'd passed by or briefly stopped by, raced through his mind. He smiled and offered an equally broad answer: "In my opinion, love is a moment."
This answer made the students in the classroom look puzzled. The old professor was quite interested: "Oh? Instantly? That's interesting. Can you explain it in detail? Isn't love supposed to be eternal and lasting?"
Chu Yan thought for a moment and spoke calmly, "I once read a book in which there was a sentence that went something like this: 'When I say forever, I'm not referring to the infinite continuation of time, but to the quality of certain moments, moments so perfect that they transcend time itself.'" He paused, trying to explain more clearly, "I think love might be like this. It's not a constant state of continuous burning, but rather a sudden flash of moments in the countless ordinary passages. These moments constitute the so-called forever. Their light is strong enough to illuminate and define the entire relationship, and even give people the illusion that happiness is eternal."
His explanation was a bit philosophical and abstract, leaving some students confused. But Chu Yu, sitting next to him, narrowed his eyes slightly and unconsciously clenched his hands on the table. He understood the meaning behind Chu Yan's words.
Eternity is not the length of time, but the brilliant moments that illuminate the desolation of time.
Chu Yu took the paper they had used to pass notes, turned to the blank side, and wrote down the sentence Chu Yan had just quoted word for word.
He looked at the sentence, was silent for a few seconds, then picked up the pen again and solemnly wrote a line next to it. After writing, he pushed the note in front of Chu Yan who had just sat down.
Chu Yan looked down.
Below that sentence was Chu Yufeng's sharp and clear handwriting:
So, have I ever left you with such a moment?
In other words, Chu Yu was asking: Chu Yan, have you ever loved me at such moments?
Chu Yan was slightly startled by the direct, almost abrupt question. He turned his head to meet Chu Yu's gaze. Those sharp, calm eyes now held a rare tension and inquiry.
Chu Yan suddenly laughed, picked up the pen and neatly ticked the question.
Of course he had had those moments. Perhaps it was when Chu Yu was clumsily but seriously learning how to date, and when she accompanied him through all the rides at the amusement park where he didn't fit in; perhaps it was when the Ferris wheel reached its apex and Chu Yu kissed him awkwardly but firmly; perhaps it was right now, when this man, who was so powerful outside, was like a stubborn and nervous student, asking him in class, "Have you ever loved me for a moment?"
These moments that actually happened were indeed brilliant.
Chu Yan didn't care whether this "love" met the worldly definition. He only knew that the quality of these moments was enough to leave a mark in his long memory.
Chu Yu saw that hook, and his tense shoulders seemed to relax almost imperceptibly. Although his face remained expressionless, the subtle tension in his eyes had melted, and a subtle flow of emotion appeared beneath the ice. He carefully folded the slip of paper filled with the conversation and put it in his shirt pocket, close to his heart.
On the podium, the old professor was still talking, from "Guan Guan Ju Jiu" in "The Book of Songs" to "Shang Xie" in Han Yuefu, trying to find more classical footnotes for "love".
Chu Yan was a little distracted.
What is love?
Love is poison to the immortal.
For him, having experienced so many worlds and possessed a near-endless amount of time, fleeting moments of joy were often followed by a long farewell or eternal oblivion. Every heartbeat was perhaps forging a sharp blade that would pierce his heart at some point in the future. The more beautiful those brilliant moments were, the deeper the emptiness felt after their loss.
The bell rang, interrupting Chu Yan's thoughts. The students began to pack up their things, and the classroom became noisy again.
Chu Yu stood up and when he looked at Chu Yan, his eyes had returned to their usual calmness, but upon closer inspection, there seemed to be a hint of indescribable brightness compared to when he first came.
"Where to next?" he asked.
Chu Yan smiled and put aside the thoughts about poison.
"Let's go, Brother Yu," he picked up his schoolbag, "next class, we'll be doing a must-do for campus couples - squeezing into the cafeteria. I hope your practical skills are better than your theoretical ones."
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