464: Chapter 464 The Silent Future

October 9th, evening.

The North Canteen at Qingbei University was bustling; it was the busiest time for dinner.

The crisp sound of stainless steel trays clattering, the loud shouts of the aunties serving food, and the dense chatter of students intertwined, filling the entire space to the brim.

The air was permeated with the savory aroma of braised pork, the vinegary scent of stir-fried potato shreds, and the steam rising from hot soup.

Lin Que, Xu Changge, Chen Jiahao, and Dan Yi had finished getting their fast food and sat around a long stainless steel table against the wall.

Although their seating position wasn't particularly conspicuous, students at nearby tables cast their gazes over from time to time.

Those gazes carried obvious awe and curiosity, and some people were even whispering in low voices.

"See that? The one in the light blue jacket is Lin Que."

"That poem of his is absolutely amazing; people in our History Department are chanting it every day now."

"Isn't that the truth? I heard even that talented guy from the Renmin University Poetry Society was outdone by him on the spot; he's really impressive."

Fragmented discussions drifted through the noisy air.

Lin Que's expression remained normal as he leisurely used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of spare rib, eating with great focus.

After the day at Beihai Park, the atmosphere among the four had undergone some subtle changes.

Dan Yi, who was originally accustomed to keeping his hat brim pulled very low and drifting on the edge of the crowd, was now still quiet, but his hat brim had been pushed up quite a bit, revealing those gray-blue eyes.

He was drinking soup in small sips; although his movements were gentle, he was no longer as tense as before.

Xu Changge sat opposite Lin Que, his posture as upright as ever; even in the noisy canteen, he ate with a kind of elegant ritual.

"Sigh, this life is really unbearable."

Chen Jiahao suddenly let out a long sigh, his whole body slumped limply on the table, his chopsticks poking at the rice in his plate aimlessly.

He turned his head to look at Lin Que, his face full of sorrow.

"The day after tomorrow is the deadline for Professor Liu, and I've only barely managed to squeeze out an opening and a conclusion for my new draft; I have no idea how to round off the middle."

The more Chen Jiahao spoke, the sadder he felt, so he simply rested his chopsticks on the edge of the plate.

"And do you know what's most torturous? After midnight tonight, Jian Shen Great Master's 'ordinary world · Part 2' will be updated on the New Tide APP."

He patted his forehead, looking heartbroken.

"As a die-hard fan of Jian Shen Great Master, I absolutely have to stay up late tonight to watch the update. On one side is the homework I can't write, and on the other is the novel I want to read; my heart feels like it's being scratched by a cat, and I'm so worried I don't even have an appetite."

As soon as he finished speaking, Chen Jiahao's hand reached out with extreme agility.

His chopsticks left an afterimage in the air as he accurately picked up the largest piece of braised pork on the plate and stuffed it directly into his mouth.

The fatty but not greasy piece of meat was instantly chewed by him, juices overflowing, and even the corners of his mouth were covered with a shiny layer of oil.

This scene happened too quickly, so much so that Dan Yi, who was sitting next to him, paused slightly with his soup bowl in hand.

Xu Changge also silently put down the spoon in his hand, looking at Chen Jiahao's face, which was full of satisfaction yet pretending to be sorrowful, and felt a bit surprised for a moment.

"You... don't look like you have no appetite."

Xu Changge teased gently and handed him a tissue.

Chen Jiahao chuckled, took the tissue, and wiped his mouth messily, not feeling embarrassed at all.

"Brother Xu, you don't understand this; this is called turning grief into appetite. By the way, how is your draft coming along?"

Xu Changge shook his head slightly, picked up his soup bowl, and took a sip, his movements still unhurried.

"It's not completely finished yet; I'm currently on the third round of polishing. The connection of some paragraphs is still not natural enough, and the rhythm of the tone needs to be refined; Professor Liu has extremely high requirements for the details of the text and cannot be sloppy at all."

Chen Jiahao sighed, expressing his inability to understand the self-demands of such a top student.

Subsequently, he turned his head and looked at Lin Que with an expectant gaze.

"Master Que, you must have finished your draft long ago, just waiting to submit it the day after tomorrow, right?"

Hearing this, Xu Changge and Dan Yi also stopped their movements simultaneously and cast curious gazes at Lin Que.

After all, whether it was the previous bottom-layer narrative that shocked the whole audience, or that seven-character quatrain in Beihai Park that almost overturned the traditional tragic autumn literary context, both proved how terrifying this teenager's writing ability was.

They just really wanted to know what kind of work Lin Que would produce this time.

Lin Que swallowed the food in his mouth, met the three people's gazes, crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke in a very casual tone.

"Haven't decided yet."

The simple four words made the surroundings of the originally noisy dining table quiet for a second.

Chen Jiahao's eyes widened instantly, and the rice he hadn't swallowed yet almost sprayed out.

"What? You haven't started writing yet? It has to be submitted the day after tomorrow!"

"Master Que, you haven't appeared much at school these past few days; everyone thought you were hiding outside to cultivate your ultimate move, but you tell me you haven't even decided what to write? Have you been slacking off outside every day these past few days?"

Lin Que smiled and did not explain further.

He hadn't really been at school much these past few days, but that was because he was doing something big at the studio.

Xu Changge looked at Lin Que's relaxed demeanor and smiled thoughtfully, speaking up to relieve him.

"Lin Que's creative habits are different from ours; he usually deduces all the frameworks and details in his mind before he actually starts writing."

Xu Changge turned to look at Chen Jiahao, his tone gentle but with a hint of teasing.

"Once he has made up his mind, maybe one day is enough."

Chen Jiahao shrank his neck and muttered a few words.

Subsequently, Xu Changge's gaze fell on Dan Yi, who was sitting on the innermost side.

"Dan Yi, what about you? How is your progress?"

Dan Yi put down the spoon in his hand, and the stainless steel handle made a slight crisp sound against the tray.

He raised his head, and a luster that had never been seen before flashed in those gray-blue eyes; although his voice was still not loud, his tone was very firm.

"It's already finished."

"Finished?"

Chen Jiahao exclaimed, causing students at nearby tables to look over again.

He looked at Dan Yi incredulously.

"So fast? Didn't you only have an opening when I asked you the day before yesterday? You've actually finished it all? What genre is it?"

Dan Yi shook his head, his gaze lingered on Lin Que's face for a moment, and then he clasped his hands together somewhat awkwardly.

"Ever since I came back from Beihai Park that day and had that hot pot with everyone, I suddenly had some different thoughts in my mind."

He pursed his lips, seemingly organizing his language, trying to express his thoughts more clearly.

"I used to be accustomed to locking myself in an ice box when I wrote things, to describe the kind of loneliness and coldness that everyone rejects. Because in my experience, only those things are real."

Speaking of this, Dan Yi's shoulders relaxed slightly, and there was a bit more softness in his eyes.

"But that day, Lin Que told me: 'Fate gifted me wind, snow, and silence, so I shall write poems and brew wine with absurdity.' And the things Brother Xu said made me understand that everyone has their own coldness to face, and between people, there can actually be warmth transmitted."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"So this time, I wrote an article about interpersonal relationships. It's about a person who gets lost in the wind and snow, how they use a faint light to connect with another stranger, and finally find a way out."

Listening to Dan Yi's description, Lin Que looked at him, a hint of gratified smile flashing in his eyes.

The ice-breaking operation at Beihai Park, and that hot pot full of worldly fireworks, had indeed planted a different seed in the heart of this mixed-race teenager.

He began to try to walk out of that self-enclosed cold world to accept the kindness of this world, and along with it, his writing began to have warmth.

For a creator, this was an extremely precious transformation.

"Well written."

Lin Que looked at Dan Yi and gave affirmation gently.

"Words shouldn't have only one color. Trying new expressions is a very courageous thing."

Getting Lin Que's affirmation, Dan Yi lowered his head somewhat embarrassedly, but the faint arc at the corner of his mouth could not be hidden.

Xu Changge on the side also showed an approving expression and nodded gently.

Only Chen Jiahao scratched his hair on the side and let out a mournful scream.

"It's over, it's over. In our Qinglan F4, one has already finished writing, one is doing the third round of polishing, and another, although he hasn't started writing, can instantly outclass the whole audience. In the end, am I the only one at the bottom?"

He looked at the remaining braised pork on his plate and suddenly felt that the meat was not as fragrant as before.

Chen Jiahao's tragic appearance made the atmosphere at the dining table become relaxed and lively for a while.

And at this moment, Lin Que, listening to Dan Yi's words about 'wind, snow, light, and connection' just now, suddenly had a very bright flash of inspiration in his mind.

Those countless literary fragments that were originally scattered in the depths of his memory seemed to be connected by an invisible thread at this moment.

The connection between people... The collision between technology and human nature...

Against a background of extreme cold and rationality, those little bits of human, even somewhat stupid, warmth and persistence...

He seemed to have instantly captured the perfect entry point for this new assessment.

It was no longer a grand narrative looking up at the starry sky, but a story about an aphasic future, about a cold world filtered by an invisible system.

In that information desert where vocabulary was constantly erased, how should a person use the most primitive words and touches to penetrate that barrier of absolute rationality and establish a real connection with another stranger.

Lin Que slowly put down the chopsticks in his hand and put his hands back into his hoodie pockets.

He leaned back on the chair, looking at the night outside the window that had completely darkened, and the streetlights lit up one by one on campus.

That was a 'transparent' world without wind and snow, but more suffocating than wind and snow.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he had an idea in his heart.