Chapter Thirty-Four: Shameless

“How did you know where his class was?” Yan Xue was puzzled.

“Tsk! Have you forgotten why I got seconded for so many years because of my ‘special talents’ and they wouldn’t let me go back?” Kang Ge shook his head theatrically and sighed, “Too many skills can be a burden, you know!”

“How did you actually manage to find out?” Yan Xue was aware that, while Kang Ge wasn’t quite at the level of a top expert in computer science, he was certainly professional enough. Seeing his dramatic lament now, she didn’t have the urge to mock him.

“I just pulled up Zhuang Fukai’s class schedule from their university’s system! They don’t make their schedules widely available, so I had to get a little creative and accessed it through the faculty portal.”

Before Yan Xue could respond, Kang Ge raised a finger at her and made a shushing gesture. “Don’t ask how I did it! I don’t want to be a bad influence on the kids!”

“You’re the kid! You’re only a few years older than me, always acting so mature!” Yan Xue shot him a glare but let the matter drop.

They found the teaching building where Zhuang Fukai had class. At the entrance, they showed their credentials at the security desk and registered, then waited outside the classroom.

Zhuang Fukai’s class was held in a large lecture hall, with several classes combined for a two-hour session. By this point, it had been going for nearly an hour. They stood by the entrance for a while, and soon enough, the mid-class break began, with students coming out one after another to use the restroom.

“Let’s go in,” Kang Ge said after a bit, noticing that most people had already come out and Zhuang Fukai was not among them. He motioned for Yan Xue to follow him inside.

They found seats off to the side. The lecture hall was enormous, and after scanning the crowd, Kang Ge nudged Yan Xue with his elbow. “There he is. No wonder he’s a top student—second row from the front.”

Yan Xue also spotted Zhuang Fukai sitting far ahead.

Although it was break time and the hall was abuzz with students drinking water, chatting, coming and going, or resting on their desks, Zhuang Fukai was wholly engrossed in his notes, undistracted, as if the tumult around him didn’t exist at all.

Before long, the break ended and everyone filed back to their seats. The class quieted as the elderly professor, who looked to be in his sixties, resumed teaching. Though he had a microphone, his voice, lacking force, still didn’t carry well in the vast room. Within a few minutes, students began to drift into their own activities, which Yan Xue and Kang Ge could see clearly from the back. But Zhuang Fukai sat upright and attentive, never wavering.

“They really are two extremes—just as their roommate said,” Kang Ge observed quietly after watching for a while. “Now I’m even more curious what kind of connection these two could possibly have. Why would Zhuang Fukai immediately want to leave as soon as we mentioned we were police gathering information about Xu Wenrui?”

“Let’s give him a surprise after class,” Yan Xue agreed with a nod.

When class was finally dismissed, Kang Ge and Yan Xue didn’t rush out. Instead, they stayed in their seats, watching Zhuang Fukai pack up his belongings in silence. No one greeted him, whether they passed by or got up next to him. Zhuang Fukai seemed used to this, quietly gathering his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out. As he passed their row, he was only two or three meters away. Kang Ge stood up, ready to greet him, but Zhuang Fukai didn’t so much as glance their way, striding out with a furrowed brow.

Kang Ge and Yan Xue joined the flow of students out of the building, following Zhuang Fukai at a moderate distance.

As they walked, Kang Ge watched Zhuang Fukai ahead and murmured into Yan Xue’s ear, “When I was little, my mom used to tell me about a scientist who was so absorbed in his research that he was always thinking about it, no matter what he was doing. One time, he walked into a telephone pole and even apologized to it.”

“I always thought my mom had missed her calling as a children’s author—how could anyone spin tales like that for kids? It sounded so exaggerated! I figured if someone ran into a pole, it was probably just bad eyesight. But now, I see she might have been onto something. The story wasn’t just to fool me—some top students really are this focused. Who cares about being aware of your surroundings?”

Once outside, the crowd thinned, and Zhuang Fukai continued on alone, his pace unhurried and his direction seemingly toward the library. Kang Ge and Yan Xue quickened their steps to catch up.

Kang Ge, half a head taller and broader than Zhuang Fukai, strode ahead and soon caught up, slinging an arm over Zhuang Fukai’s shoulder with easy familiarity.

Startled, Zhuang Fukai instinctively tried to shake him off, but when he turned and saw it was the policeman he’d met before, he froze in surprise.

“You…” he stammered, looking bewildered by Kang Ge’s sudden appearance, momentarily forgetting to push the arm off his shoulder.

“What a coincidence! Fancy running into you again!” Kang Ge greeted him with a bright smile, acting as if he’d simply been wandering the campus and happened to bump into Zhuang Fukai. There was no hint of deception in his manner.

Zhuang Fukai’s thick brows knitted tightly together. Clearly, he felt very differently about this “chance encounter” than Kang Ge did.

“Hello,” he replied stiffly, nodding at Kang Ge and shifting his shoulder in an attempt to dislodge the arm. “You must have work to do. I need to get to the library to borrow some books, so I won’t take up your time.”

“Oh, now you make me feel bad!” Kang Ge grinned, scratching the back of his head. “Yesterday, you left before we could even talk. I was planning to find you anyway, but I guess fate brought us together today. Since we’ve run into each other, why not seize the moment and have a chat?”

“Sorry, I really don’t have time. I doubt I can help you with anything, and I’m in the middle of preparing for the crucial retesting phase. I can’t afford for you to waste my time. If your interference affects my exam, who’s going to take responsibility?” Zhuang Fukai replied, still trying to excuse himself.

Most people would’ve felt awkward continuing after such words. Unfortunately for Zhuang Fukai, Kang Ge was no ordinary person.

Besides being naturally outgoing, Kang Ge could sometimes be remarkably oblivious to social boundaries. Hearing Zhuang Fukai’s refusal, he didn’t even flinch or look the slightest bit embarrassed.

“People are like bows—they snap if you keep them too tightly strung. You’ve got to balance tension and relaxation. If you spend all your time reviewing without a break, your brain will get exhausted, and you might end up performing worse, not better! A chat with us is different—we won’t talk about anything heavy. It’ll be a way to relax your mind. ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,’ after all. I know how important your exams are; that’s precisely why you shouldn’t let your brain ossify from overstudying. That could harm your future more than a quick chat ever would!”

Zhuang Fukai, apparently unused to such shameless—well, such unconventional—people, was momentarily at a loss. He couldn’t bring himself to lose his temper, and though his reluctance was plain on his face, he still let Kang Ge steer him off the path to the library and toward the athletic field.

Kang Ge and Yan Xue had come here the night before. Now, just after the first morning class, the field was nearly empty, save for one class having PE. The stands were especially deserted.

“Look at this beautiful autumn day—the sky high and clear, the breeze gentle and the clouds light. What better place to get some fresh air? Let’s sit in the stands and chat. We won’t go far, so you won’t waste any of your precious time!” Kang Ge announced, making the decision for everyone without leaving room for argument.

Yan Xue nodded in agreement, following Kang Ge and ignoring the stormy look on Zhuang Fukai’s face.

Kang Ge’s choice of location seemed casual, but it was actually perfect. Clearly, Zhuang Fukai wasn’t the type to be cooperative, much less willing to talk in front of others.

There were plenty of cafes and restaurants around the university where they could talk, but those places were always bustling and it was hard to guarantee privacy. The athletic field stands, on the other hand, were different—while couples might sit there in the evening, during the day it was empty and anyone approaching could be seen at a glance. There was no need to worry about eavesdroppers. After all, who would shout their conversation through a megaphone?