Chapter 295 Modern Chapter

In September, before the summer heat had completely dissipated, the university town was already bustling with activity.

Welcome banners were hung all over the main roads of the campus, volunteers carried signs for each college and ran around, and freshmen dragged their luggage of all sizes and poured into the school gate like a tide.

The registration point for the School of Economics and Management was on the east side of the gymnasium, and the line was crooked and twisted.

Zhou Heng stood in the middle of the line, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and a pair of clean sneakers.

With one hand in his pocket and the other hanging casually at his sides, he looked as if he had been cut out from the noisy background.

People around him frequently glanced at him, their eyes lingering on his face for a couple of seconds, but he was completely oblivious.

"Student, please show your admission notice and ID card."

He lowered his head slightly, took out a document from the shoulder bag he was carrying, and handed it over.

His fingers were long and slender, with distinct knuckles, and his nails were neatly trimmed. The senior student in charge of registration looked up at him, paused for a moment, and then took his ID to check his information.

"Zhou Heng... School of Economics and Management, majoring in Business Administration, dormitory is 409 in Building 13."

He took the campus card and keys, nodded, said nothing, and turned to leave.

The senior student stared at his back for several seconds before someone tapped her on the shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

"N-nothing...it's nothing." The senior student snapped out of her daze, lowered her head, and continued to the next registration form, her heart still pounding.

Zhou Heng dragged his suitcase toward the dormitory building. The suitcase wasn't big, it was dark gray, and the wheels made a low thud as they rolled on the asphalt.

The shoulder bag on his shoulder didn't look heavy, and he was traveling light, unlike a freshman.

Everyone else was accompanied by their parents, carrying large and small bags, some carrying blankets, some carrying washbasins, and some hadn't even arrived yet, but the parcel station was already piled high with packages.

He walked alone in the crowd, his pace neither hurried nor slow, his face expressionless. He was neither as excited and jubilant as the other freshmen around him, nor did he show any unease or confusion.

It was as if this was just a matter of him being in a different place.

Building No. 13 is a newly built dormitory building with a warm white exterior, which looks quite decent.

The elevator reached the fourth floor, and the corridor was filled with the smell of newly renovated buildings, mixed with the dry smell of disinfectant and sun-dried air.

The door to room 409 was ajar. He pushed it open and went inside. The room was empty. There were four beds, with a desk underneath each. Apart from the gray-blue bed frames and the desks covered in a thin layer of dust, there was nothing there.

He was the first to arrive.

Zhou Heng leaned his suitcase against the desk, pulled out a chair, sat down, and took out his phone to look at it.

There were no new messages or missed calls. He locked the screen, placed his phone face down on the table, and bent down to unzip his suitcase.

He hung his clothes into the wardrobe one by one, placed the books on the table, and put the toiletries bag next to the sink.

September dragged on the last vestiges of summer, and the heat seeped in through the cracks in the windows, making the entire corridor feel sweltering.

The elevators in Building 13 went up and down, carrying young people with suitcases and their parents with happy faces behind them. The noisy footsteps and laughter echoed in the corridor, like a pot of water that had just boiled.

The door to room 409 was open.

Zhou Heng stood on the ladder, head down, making the bed. His suitcase was empty, the dark gray body leaning against the corner of the wall with its opening open. The wardrobe door was half open, with several neatly folded clothes stacked inside, in black, white, and gray tones, without any unnecessary embellishments.

He bent over, pinching the edge of the sheet with his fingers and tucking it under the mattress. Because of his posture, his white shirt was slightly taut, stretching a smooth arc along his back, from his broad, straight shoulders to his narrow waist.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on a small patch of fabric at his waist, which swayed gently in the breeze.

He turned his head to check the direction of the pillow, and the light fell right on his profile—the curve of his brow bone, the height of his nose bridge, the sharp turn of his jawline, every line looked as if it had been carefully considered.

His expression was indifferent, his eyelashes drooping, like a lake that had just been covered with a thin layer of ice.

He raised his hand and patted the pillow lightly, his fingers long and slender, with slightly protruding knuckles.

The sound of wheels rolling over the floor tiles came from the corridor, growing louder as it approached. Unlike a lightweight suitcase, this one had some weight to it, and there was also the occasional soft sound of wheels tapping against a door frame.

"Fourth floor, we've arrived."

A casual voice came from the doorway, tinged with a lazy laugh.

Zhou Heng didn't turn around immediately. He smoothed out the last corner of the pillow before slowly turning over.

A boy was standing at the door, holding the handle of a dark suitcase in one hand and a mobile phone in the other, tilting his head slightly to look around the dormitory.

He was more than half a head taller than the average person, with broad and relaxed shoulders. Standing there, he resembled a tree with deep roots, exuding a natural sense of ease.

The forearms exposed beneath the short sleeves were well-proportioned, and the skin tone was a warm wheat color from years of exercise.

He has deep facial features, high brow bones, and slightly upturned eyebrow tails that give him a natural air of untamed spirit.

Her lips were slightly upturned, as if she were born with a smile.

His gaze swept around the room and landed on the person on the ladder.

Zhou Heng was looking down at him, his expression still indifferent, like a still pond.

The eyes are long with slightly upturned corners, and the black and white of the eyes are distinct. When looking at people, the eyes are calm and composed, as if observing them from a distance through a thin mist.

The two stared at each other for two or three seconds.

Xiao Jue smiled first, leaned the suitcase in his hand to the side, and took the initiative to break the silence.

"Hello, Xiao Jue." His tone was so casual that it didn't sound like he was introducing himself to a stranger, but rather like he was picking up where the conversation had ended. "You're from the finance department, and you live in this room. We should be roommates now. It's a four-person room, and it seems like we're the only two who arrived first."

Zhou Heng descended the ladder with swift movements, his toes barely making a sound as he touched the ground.

He stood in front of Xiao Jue, about two steps apart.

Xiao Jue was a head taller than him, but Zhou Heng did not appear short. He was like a sheathed sword, with an understated sharpness that became more apparent the closer you looked at him.

"Zhou Heng, Business Administration." The voice was soft, cool in tone, polite and restrained, each word clearly enunciated without any unnecessary endings, as if he did not intend to linger on this topic.

He stretched out his hand.

Xiao Jue looked down at the hand. The knuckles were distinct, and the fingertips were clean. It was a very beautiful hand, but the way it was extended carried a formulaic sense of distance, as if it were completing a necessary procedure.

Xiao Jue raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and shook hands with him.

The touch from my palm was warm and dry, a comfortable temperature.

Zhou Heng's hands were rather cold, and when they were enveloped by that layer of warmth, his fingertips stiffened slightly for a moment before returning to normal.

"Business Administration." Xiao Jue released his grip, uttered the two words on the tip of his tongue, then smiled, revealing a row of neat white teeth. "So we're not in the same major? But it's okay, we'll be sharing a room anyway. From now on, when I don't have class at 8 AM but you might, I'll try not to bother you; and you do the same, okay?"

He spoke in a frank and natural tone, as if stating a self-evident roommate agreement. There was no enthusiasm to deliberately close the distance, nor any stiffness of distant politeness. He simply put the rules on the table, making it impossible for anyone not to nod in agreement.

Zhou Heng glanced at him, nodded, turned around and walked back to his desk, rearranging the books on the table.