On the sports field of Donghai University in Shanghai.
Thousands of students in camouflage uniforms stood at rigid attention under the scorching sun.
"All units! Rest in place!"
The stern drill instructor checked his watch before barking the order.
At the command, the entire formation slumped to the ground like discarded rags.
Cheng Hao did the same, yanking off his cap to scratch his sweat-soaked hair. Even the cap could’ve been wrung out like a damp cloth.
"Bro, you an exchange student? From which African tribe?"
"Africa my ass—I’m just sunburnt from drills!"
"Training in this hellish heat is murder..."
The boys beside Cheng Hao grumbled weakly, their voices drained as if they’d partied nonstop for three days straight.
Understandable. Even the instructors looked ready to wilt in this heat, let alone these pampered students.
While they complained, Cheng Hao watched with mild interest as boys and girls in the formation exchanged contacts. It felt less like a university and more like a matchmaking agency.
Donghai was one of China’s top universities. Most students had crammed relentlessly through high school to earn their spot—three years of buried romance and stifled crushes during their most hormonally charged years. Now, they chased love with the same desperation they’d once reserved for textbooks.
Around him, boys fumbled through awkward pick-up lines while girls blushed and fidgeted. Cicadas chirped merrily in the trees. Birds flitted in pairs overhead. Even the campus strays roamed in twos. The air practically reeked of sweet-and-sour romance.
Cheng Hao shook his head slightly.
Was he a single dog? Half, maybe.
He’d had a childhood friend—Ye Zihan.
They’d known each other since birth. His entire childhood was saturated with her.
Then at eight, her family moved abroad for business. They vanished from each other’s lives like ghosts.
Until two years ago.
She’d tracked him down out of nowhere. At first, Cheng Hao kept his distance—childhood memories faded, after all. But he’d underestimated their bond. Their chats quickly reignited old warmth, then deepened into something new. Something sweet-and-sour.
They texted good mornings and late-night comforts. Shared joys and sorrows like any couple.
The only difference? They hadn’t seen each other in ten years. She was probably still studying overseas.
It didn’t matter. Last year, he confessed. Vowed he’d find her once he could support himself—even settle abroad if she agreed.
She refused.
Most guys would’ve been crushed. Cheng Hao? Thrilled.
Because she’d whispered: *"I know you got into Donghai early. Next year, I’ll stand before you. Recognize me, and I’ll say yes."*
He’d sworn back: "If I don’t recognize you? I’ll run two laps stark naked around this field—barking like a dog the whole way!"
She’d laughed, accepting the bet. Both counting the days.
A sudden commotion snapped him from his thoughts.
"Look! Isn’t that our campus goddess?"
"Where? Let me see!"
"She’s even prettier in person!"
"Why’s she here in this heat?"
The exhausted boys who’d been sprawled on the ground moments ago sprang upright, smoothing uniforms and puffing chests like startled pigeons.
*Do they actually think this looks cool?*
Cheng Hao wasn’t into campus celebrities, but curiosity made him glance ahead.
A girl in a powder-blue dress strolled toward the formation, unhurried as a breeze.
Jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing porcelain skin. Her large, expressive eyes held galaxies; her small crimson lips contrasted sharply against her flawless complexion. Twin dimples appeared when she smiled—fleeting, fairy-like.
Even Cheng Hao, who prided himself on immunity to beauty, caught his breath.
He’d heard the rumors. Yexinran. Sophomore in Liberal Arts. Donghai’s undisputed goddess.
She wasn’t just a pretty face. Straight-A student. Full scholarship abroad. Early acceptances to elite global universities. Yet she’d chosen Donghai last year—for reasons no one knew.
Countless suitors had tried. None had moved her.
Winning her heart? Odds slimmer than reciting pi backward.
