The first thing Lin Mo did the morning after the academic exchange event was check the weather. The second thing he did was check the cafeteria menu. The third thing was decide that the day was already ruined. “No noodles?” Lin Mo stared at his phone. The cafeteria’s breakfast menu displayed three kinds of buns, soy milk, porridge, steamed eggs, and something that looked suspiciously like a vegetable pancake. But no noodles. He stared at the screen for another five seconds. Then he sighed. “Why does the university hate me?” The roommate across from him looked up from his textbook. “Because you eat noodles four times a week.” “Exactly. They should support loyal customers.” His roommate laughed. Lin Mo put down his phone. Whatever happened yesterday had nothing to do with him. That was the important part. The academic exchange event. The library project. The strange network problem. Shen Yichen. Jiang Rui. Chen Yu. All of it could be filed under— Things Lin Mo Did Not Need To Think About. He had already made his life plan. Study enough to graduate. Eat good food. Play games. Sleep. Find a decent job. Avoid protagonists. Avoid villains. Avoid dramatic women who appeared in the original novel carrying complicated family backgrounds. Avoid mysterious strangers. Avoid people who said things like, “You are different from everyone else.” And most importantly— Avoid getting involved in the plot. Lin Mo nodded to himself. “Perfect.” His roommate looked at him strangely. “What?” “Nothing.” By nine-thirty, Lin Mo was sitting in class. By nine-thirty-five, he was regretting his life choices. By nine-forty, his eyes were closing. The professor was explaining a complicated algorithm on the projector. Lin Mo understood it. That was the problem. Because he understood it, his brain decided there was absolutely no reason to remain awake. His pen slowly stopped moving. His head tilted. Five minutes later— Tap. Something touched his desk. Lin Mo opened one eye. A neatly folded piece of paper had been placed beside his hand. He looked to his right. Gu Wen was taking notes as though nothing had happened. Lin Mo unfolded the paper. Don't sleep yet. Professor is about to ask questions. Lin Mo looked at him. Gu Wen didn't turn. Lin Mo wrote underneath. Why are you preventing me from achieving enlightenment? A few seconds later, the paper came back. Because your enlightenment will probably involve sleeping until graduation. Lin Mo smiled. He wrote: Exactly. You understand me. Gu Wen glanced at him this time. There was a faint smile in his eyes. “Your ambitions are impressive.” “Thank you.” “I wasn't complimenting you.” “I accept it anyway.” Gu Wen shook his head and continued writing. Lin Mo looked toward the projector. Then, reluctantly, he picked up his pen. He really did need to graduate. After class, Gu Wen caught up with him outside. “Lunch?” Lin Mo considered. “What's today's menu?” “Why?” “I need to know whether I'm emotionally prepared.” Gu Wen laughed. “You're impossible.” “I prefer predictable.” They walked toward the cafeteria together. The campus was busy around them. Students crossed between buildings, bicycles passed along the paths, and somewhere nearby someone was practicing the same piano passage over and over. It was ordinary. Comfortably ordinary. Lin Mo liked it. He liked days where nothing happened. No unexpected accidents. No dramatic confrontations. No people appearing out of nowhere with ten bodyguards. No corporate negotiations. No protagonists. Just classes. Food. Friends. And occasionally terrible cafeteria vegetables. This was the life he wanted. “Lin Mo.” “Hm?” “You've been looking at that tree for almost a minute.” Lin Mo blinked. “I was thinking.” “About?” “How nice it is when nothing happens.” Gu Wen looked at him for a moment. Then he smiled. “That's a very Lin Mo thought.” “Is that good or bad?” “Neither.” “Then it's good.” At lunch, Gu Wen received a phone call. He glanced at the screen and stepped away from the table. Lin Mo didn't ask who it was. That was another thing he had learned. Not every silence needed to be filled. When Gu Wen returned, his expression was slightly tired. Lin Mo pushed the drink beside him across the table. “Here.” Gu Wen looked down. “You bought this?” “Accidentally.” “You accidentally bought two?” “Yes.” “You only drink one.” “I accidentally bought two.” Gu Wen stared at him. Lin Mo stared back. After several seconds, Gu Wen accepted the drink. “Thank you.” “No problem.” They continued eating. Neither mentioned the call. Across the city, Shen Yichen placed a report on his desk. His assistant stood opposite him. “The investigation is complete.” Shen opened the file. “Lin Mo's academic record is normal.” “Mostly.” Shen looked up. “Mostly?” “He isn't the kind of student teachers normally consider exceptional. His grades are good, but not outstanding. His attendance is average. He participates when required and avoids extracurricular activities whenever possible.” The assistant paused. “There is also one interesting point.” Shen waited. “Lin Mo has a very unusual approach to technology.” Shen turned another page. “He doesn't seem particularly interested in theoretical research. Most of his comments focus on practicality, cost, maintenance, and user experience.” “That's consistent with what we saw.” “Yes.” The assistant hesitated. “The university network issue wasn't something he should have been able to identify that quickly.” Shen's eyes remained on the report. “Which is why we're checking.” “Do you think someone taught him?” “I don't know.” “Could he have accessed information from the company?” Shen closed the file. “No.” The answer came immediately. Lin Mo had never tried to approach the company. He hadn't contacted Shen after receiving the business card. He hadn't searched for opportunities. He hadn't even shown much interest in Shen himself. If Lin Mo had deliberately engineered their encounters, he was remarkably bad at taking advantage of them. Shen remembered the university gate. The library. The exchange event. And, most clearly, the game shop. Lin Mo had looked at him that day with an expression that was difficult to interpret. Not admiration. Not fear. Not curiosity. More like— I really don't want to deal with this. Shen's fingers tapped lightly against the desk. “Keep watching the technical side.” “Yes.” “Don't interfere with him.” The assistant nodded. “And don't make him aware that we're investigating.” “Understood.” The assistant left. Shen looked toward the window. For someone who seemed determined to live an uneventful life, Lin Mo had an unusual talent for stumbling across interesting problems. That alone was worth keeping an eye on. Meanwhile, Lin Mo was completely unaware. He was sitting in the university library. Not studying. Not researching. Not investigating anything. He was playing a farming game on his laptop. Gu Wen sat across from him, reading. After several minutes, Gu Wen finally looked up. “You're in the library.” “I know.” “You're playing a game.” “I know.” “You have an assignment due tomorrow.” “I know.” Gu Wen stared at him. Lin Mo looked back. Then he calmly harvested virtual tomatoes. “Don't worry.” “I'm not worried.” “Good.” “You should be.” Lin Mo sighed. “Fine.” He closed the game. Gu Wen nodded approvingly. Lin Mo opened his programming assignment. Thirty seconds later, he said— “Gu Wen.” “Hm?” “Do you think the professor would accept a philosophical explanation instead?” “No.” “A poem?” “No.” “A heartfelt letter?” “No.” “Bribery?” “Absolutely not.” Lin Mo leaned back. “University is so restrictive.” Gu Wen laughed. And for the next two hours, they studied. Nothing happened. No mysterious encounters. No dramatic phone calls. No sudden accidents. No protagonists appearing. No plot twists. Lin Mo slowly began to smile. Maybe— just maybe— the world had finally decided to leave him alone. He didn't know that, three buildings away, a professor was reviewing the final documents for the library project. He didn't know that Shen Yichen's assistant had just sent another technical report. He didn't know that someone in another part of the city had begun asking questions about the same network architecture. And he certainly didn't know that the original novel's carefully arranged plot had already begun drifting away from its original path. For now, none of that mattered. Lin Mo had an assignment. A half-finished game. And dinner to think about. That was enough. For one peaceful day, at least. That was enough.

Peace