Chapter 29 – Lin Yu, Pleased to Meet You

In the past, Bian Ji would have felt it impolite to sleep while someone else was driving, insisting on staying awake to chat with the driver no matter how tired he was. But today, he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation, dozing off lightly.

A faint scent of gray vetiver filled the car, and Bian Ji found it pleasant, his breaths deepening as a result. Gradually, the sounds around him faded away, even the air conditioning seemed unusually quiet.

Yan Ankuo drove the car to a coffee shop on Wanhangdu Road, parked, and turned to look at the sleeping figure beside him.

Bian Ji was leaning back, his eyelids fluttering slightly. From this angle, Yan Ankuo could see the slender line of his neck.

Necks were vulnerable, yet Bian Ji displayed his openly before Yan Ankuo, his Adam’s apple prominent against the skin, tempting to leave marks of a grip or bite.

Yan Ankuo gazed at him like a wolf king among sheep, his eyes lingering on the pale expanse of skin.

After a long moment, he took a deep breath, silent as he retrieved his laptop and glasses from the backseat, beginning to read through case files.

About fifteen minutes later, Bian Ji was startled awake by a passerby’s scream outside the car. He blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing where he was, asking Yan Ankuo drowsily, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long,” Yan Ankuo had already put away his computer and glasses, appearing as though he hadn’t been waiting at all. “Ready to get out?”

Bian Ji said, “Okay,” and stepped out of the car. Seeing the unfamiliar surroundings, he asked, “Where are we? It’s so beautiful!”

“My alma mater,” Yan Ankuo explained. “I just happened to be here to deliver some materials, so I can show you around campus before we go eat.”

Changning Campus was built on the site of an old missionary school, with nearly a century of history. After multiple renovations, its domes were exquisite and elegant, resembling a European garden from afar, red walls against green waters, truly worth exploring.

As Bian Ji marveled at the architectural style of Yan Ankuo’s alma mater, he wondered why Yan Ankuo frequented the area so often.

“I have a cooperative project with my undergraduate professor, so I come here more often,” Yan Ankuo explained.

Bian Ji nodded, following Yan Ankuo inside.

At the entrance gate, Yan Ankuo fiddled with his electronic alumni card for a while before successfully gaining entry to the campus.

The security guard pointed at Bian Ji beside him, asking, “Is he also an alumnus?”

Bian Ji shook his head, “No.”

The guard then asked, “Family?”

“Um…not really.” Bian Ji stumbled over his words for a moment before saying, “Just a friend.”

“Accompanying People: one,” the guard said coldly, marking the register. “Go ahead.”

Yan Ankuo held the sensor area open for Bian Ji, allowing his friend to enter first. As they brushed past each other, they were so close that the moment seemed to stretch out infinitely, even piano music playing in Bian Ji’s mind as background music.

“To get to the faculty building, you need to turn left — watch your step,” Yan Ankuo followed him inside, looking down at him with amusement in his voice. “Don’t just stare at me.”

Bian Ji cleared his throat and quickly turned his head, focusing intently on finding his way.

It was still cold in February, Bian Ji zipped his cotton jacket high up as he followed Yan Ankuo into a red-and-white European-style building.

Yan Ankuo told Bian Ji to wait in the spacious reception area while he went upstairs to submit the materials. Less than four minutes later, he emerged from the elevator, facing Bian Ji. “Let’s go, I’ll take you for a walk around the track.”

To reach the track, they had to pass the library, where Yan Ankuo recounted the miserable situation of fighting for study seats during his law exams. Bian Ji was taken aback, asking if all law students studied so intensely. Yan Ankuo said it wasn’t just intense studying, it was necessity; the job market was too saturated, and even graduates from the top law schools struggled to enter good law firms without prestigious certificates.

“It’s not like your field, which has strong expertise and a large talent gap, offering far more opportunities than for people like me,” Yan Ankuo spoke seriously, making it hard for Bian Ji to discern if he was being humble or sincere.

“Don’t joke, Mr. Yan,” Bian Ji echoed the front desk’s nickname. “If you don’t have a path, others might as well not bother living.”

Yan Ankuo chuckled softly, his thoughts interrupted by the sight of people exercising around them. He pointed at them and said, “The Changning campus is quite small, there aren’t many places to run, so I either came here or ran along the Suzhou River back to my dorm.”

Bian Ji asked, “Your dorm wasn’t here?”

“No, it was on the west side of the river,” Yan Ankuo pointed in the distance. “See those rows of red houses?”

Bian Ji looked at the red rooftops, feigning ignorance. “Which ones?”

“Stand up and look,” Yan Ankuo reached out, helping him stand.

Bian Ji naturally rested his hand on Yan Ankuo’s, leaning slightly against his shoulder as he continued to gaze into the distance.

Such physical contact was too intimate for two men, and although Bian Ji felt much closer to Yan Ankuo now, at least enough to consider him a friend, he still felt uneasy about such physical closeness. Fortunately, Yan Ankuo’s intentions were pure, and after helping him up, he naturally moved aside, giving Bian Ji room to see.

“I see them, a lot of people are hanging clothes out to dry, right?” Bian Ji rubbed his nose awkwardly, having just told a poor lie. “Hey, what’s that low building next to it?”

Yan Ankuo was silent, and Bian Ji assumed he had forgotten due to the years since graduation. Unexpectedly, after standing close together for a moment, Yan Ankuo said, “Legal aid center, later converted into a research room.”

Bian Ji responded with an “oh,” asking, “Did you visit often?”

Again, Yan Ankuo remained silent, pausing before saying, “Yes, I spent some time there before.”

For law students, working in legal aid wasn’t uncommon. Bian Ji didn’t press further, instead changing the topic to ask about other buildings: “By the way, where are your lecture halls? I’d like to see where you had classes.”

Yan Ankuo thought for a moment, saying, “Graduate students have classes on another campus, but for undergraduates…classes are held in several buildings near the Red Building.”

Introducing one’s alma mater to a stranger was a subtle thing, especially when that person had no vested interest. The words spoken weren’t to please clients or reveal one’s past, but purely for the sake of sharing.

As he listened, Bian Ji felt that the distance between them and the word “friends” was closing — or perhaps, growing farther apart.

“You must have had excellent grades,” Bian Ji guessed boldly after listening. “Always ranking first in everything.”

Yan Ankuo laughed. “Not necessarily first. We calculated grade point averages, and there were many of us, so there were often ties.”

Bian Ji mused, “Those who tied with you must have been very talented as well.”

Yan Ankuo avoided answering directly, pointing to a row of prominent European-style buildings, telling Bian Ji that many celebrities filmed there and he would take him to visit.

Crossing a bridge and passing a few lecture halls, only fifteen minutes had passed. Yan Ankuo pointed to a classroom on the first floor that was packed with students, saying, “There must be an exam going on inside.”

Bian Ji could see the crowded heads, curious. “Exams right after the new year?”

“Our college is like that,” Yan Ankuo said self-deprecatingly. “No designated exam week, no focus on key points. If the instructor wants, there can be quizzes every day.”

Thus, Bian Ji began recalling his own university days, realizing he didn’t remember much. Right after starting university, he had moved out to rent his own place, seeking independence.

Tang Pingxia had given him plenty of money, but he only accepted enough for living expenses. The rent was high, so much of his time was spent tutoring or interning. Therefore, his memories of university were limited to two things — the icy watermelon in summer and the buzzing electric fan in his tiny room.

Yan Ankuo’s alma mater was clearly much more interesting, with a heavier academic workload.

As they spoke, the students finished their exam and emerged, discussing the applicable laws in case questions and the answers to multiple-choice questions.

Bian Ji and Yan Ankuo stepped aside, Bian Ji whispering, “Shall we go?”

Yan Ankuo agreed, turning around just as a familiar voice called out behind them.

“Ankuo?” The person descended the steps, approaching rapidly, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Yan Ankuo paused, his expression perfectly composed as he nodded. “Just taking a stroll.”

His response did not satisfy the other party, evident from the doubtful look on his face. He turned and shouted loudly, “Professor Lin, come quickly,” then, seeing Bian Ji, pointed and asked, “Who is this?”

Given Bian Ji’s character, he normally wouldn’t remain silent in such a situation, avoiding embarrassment. However, he instinctively sensed that the relationship between the man and Yan Ankuo was not ordinary, so he wisely refrained from speaking.

The man referred to as Professor Lin slowly approached, a stack of file folders tucked under his arm, labeled “Exams.”

Yan Ankuo explained to Bian Ji as usual, “Wen Hongyu, my senior. He teaches here and handles some criminal cases.”

Then he turned to the bespectacled man opposite him, pausing for a second.

Before Yan Ankuo could introduce him, the man stepped forward on his own, nodding to Bian Ji. “Lin Yu, pleased to meet you.”