522: Chapter 522 The Metamorphosis of Geniuses

Beijing Capital International Airport was bustling with people.

The broadcast system played arrival information on a loop, and the alert sounds at the baggage claim carousels rang incessantly.

The area outside the arrival gate was packed with crowds holding signs and peering forward.

Lin Que carried his black backpack, pushing a silver-grey suitcase with one hand while holding a tightly tied old snakeskin bag in the other.

This getup looked somewhat out of place in the sleek and shiny terminal.

Lin Que didn't care about the occasional strange looks cast his way, his pace remaining incredibly steady.

Just as he stepped out of the automatic doors of the arrival passage, a piercing, booming voice came from the crowd at the arrival gate.

"Master Que! Over here!"

Chen Jiahao, wearing a black windbreaker, was struggling to squeeze forward through the crowd of people waiting to pick up passengers.

He waved his hand while shouting at the top of his lungs, causing several people nearby to look over.

Following behind Chen Jiahao was Tang He.

Tang He was wearing a simple beige trench coat today.

The sharp edge that once belonged to the elite students of Shanghai had faded significantly, replaced by a reserved and calm temperament.

She didn't shout and scream like Chen Jiahao; she simply stood outside the railing and nodded at Lin Que.

Chen Jiahao finally squeezed to the front, pulled aside the barrier tape, ducked under, and gave Lin Que a solid hug.

"Master Que, I missed you to death!"

Chen Jiahao patted Lin Que's back with surprising force.

Lin Que protected the snakeskin bag with one hand, smiled, patted his shoulder, and pushed him back half a step.

After Chen Jiahao backed away, he immediately looked Lin Que up and down.

He had originally prepared a stomach full of sympathetic words, wanting to lament the harsh conditions and meager food of the remote region.

"A month without seeing you, look how thin you've…"

But the words stuck in his throat.

He scanned him up and down twice, his expression somewhat strange.

Chen Jiahao blinked, his tone turning somewhat puzzled.

"Master Que, why do I feel like you've actually gained some weight?"

Lin Que chuckled.

He muttered to himself.

Eating Old Liu's hearty carbohydrate-heavy noodle soup every day, paired with the chili oil and pickled cabbage that people in Southern Shaanxi couldn't live without—with that way of stacking carbs on top of carbs, it would be strange if he didn't gain weight.

"The air in the mountains is good, and I slept soundly."

Lin Que replied casually.

Chen Jiahao didn't dwell on this question for too long; his attention quickly shifted to another matter.

He leaned in closer, lowered his voice, and his tone was filled with irrepressible excitement.

"Master Que, I saw everything about what happened online! That counterattack was done beautifully!"

"That grandson named Wu Liang was crying his eyes out in the livestream. I was at the market in the Northeast at the time and almost smashed my phone. And in the end, you didn't even show your face, you just let the official report pin him to the ground and rub his face in it."

Chen Jiahao got more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly.

"Those blood-sucking marketing accounts were all dumbfounded! Now the internet is full of people apologizing to you."

"You don't know, our group chat exploded at the time. Everyone thought you were trapped in the mountains without internet and were incredibly worried. Xu Changge even specifically contacted Senior Brother Song Yuan."

"Who could have guessed that you were holding the complete recording, just waiting for that grandson to jump into the pit himself."

Lin Que listened to Chen Jiahao's rapid-fire speech, his expression calm.

He looked at the sunlight streaming into the terminal, his tone flat.

"The higher they jump, the harder they fall. There's no need to waste breath dealing with people like that."

Lin Que's tone was as if the storm that had whipped up an internet-wide frenzy was just a speck of dust he had casually brushed away.

Tang He watched Lin Que quietly from the side.

She noticed that Lin Que's temperament had also changed.

The sharp edge he had before leaving was suppressed by something deeper.

He was like a piece of bluestone that had absorbed water; it didn't look like much, but it carried a lot of weight.

"Jiahao."

Tang He interrupted Chen Jiahao's rambling at the right moment.

"There are too many people here, let's get in the car and go back to school first."

Chen Jiahao finally realized and hurriedly reached out to take the suitcase from Lin Que's hand.

"Right, right, back to school. Let's go, the bus is waiting outside."

The three of them walked side by side out of the terminal.

Lin Que took the opportunity to change the subject, his gaze sweeping over the two as he asked gently.

"What about you two? How was the result of your month-long field trip?"

Hearing this question, Chen Jiahao seemed to have his fuse lit again, his eyes immediately lighting up.

He pushed the suitcase while reporting excitedly.

"Master Que, I really learned a lot this time. I spent a whole month at that farmers' market in the Northeast. Guess what? I finally learned how to lower my head and observe quietly."

Chen Jiahao rubbed his hands, as if he could still feel the biting cold of the Northeast morning.

"I used to like to conceive high-minded plots in my head when I wrote. This time, I got up at four in the morning every day, squatted next to the meat counter, and listened to the butcher bargaining with people."

"That butcher's skill was amazing; with one strike, the bone snapped cleanly. He told me that life is like the meat on this chopping block—you have to aim for the bone joint before you cut; you can't just hack away blindly."

"I understood the sound of the bone-chopping knife hitting the board, and I understood the logic of life in those shouts. It was all real stuff."

Chen Jiahao's tone became serious as he said this.

"Teacher Jian Shen was right. You can rack your brains sitting in a room, but you'll never write that sense of reality stained with grease. I've finally had a breakthrough this time; the freezing I endured this month was worth it!"

Lin Que nodded in approval.

That Chen Jiahao could have such a realization showed that he had truly planted his feet in the mud and was no longer just a rich second-generation kid who only knew how to pile up flowery words on paper.

Tang He also nodded. She looked at Lin Que, her gaze fixed intently on him.

"The place I went to this time also let me see many things I had previously ignored."

Tang He's voice was soft but firm.

"I gave up my original comfortable options and went to experience life at the grassroots level. I discovered that in the corners we overlook, there is the most resilient vitality."

Subsequently, she changed the subject and asked seriously: "What about you? The place you went to had the harshest conditions; how was your harvest?"

Chen Jiahao also instantly quieted down.

He held his breath, looking at Lin Que with anticipation, waiting for his answer.

Lin Que stopped walking.

He weighed the rough old snakeskin bag in his hand, which made a slight rustling sound.

"I brought back a bag of mountain goods."

Lin Que replied half-jokingly, paused for half a second, and then added: "And a few… disjointed scenes."

This sentence was said very casually.

But to Chen Jiahao and Tang He, it sounded like a muffled thunderclap, exploding in their hearts.

Disjointed scenes.

The desolation and weight revealed in these five words needed no extra explanation.

They could feel that what Lin Que had experienced this month was by no means as simple as a regular field trip.

Chen Jiahao swallowed, not asking any further.

Tang He's gaze lingered on the snakeskin bag for two seconds, and she nodded thoughtfully.

The three walked out of the terminal and boarded the shuttle bus arranged by the Qingbei School of Literature.

The bus drove smoothly along the ring road of Beijing.

The bus was quiet.

Chen Jiahao didn't chatter on; instead, he took out his phone and sent a message in a small group of only four people.

"Met up with Master Que at the airport. He actually gained a bit of weight. We're heading back together now."

Lin Que leaned back against the seat, watching the city streetscape whiz by outside the window.

High-rise buildings and heavy traffic formed a sharp contrast with that town street in Muchuan Town, which was always filled with mist and the smell of coal ash.

He closed his eyes, and the disjointed qin opera sung by Auntie Song seemed to still be echoing in his ears.

That old factory area forgotten by the times, and those people struggling in the mud and water yet remaining resilient, were already deeply imprinted in his mind.

The snakeskin bag in his hand pressed against his leg, heavy and weighted.

That was the sentiment of the entire town of Muchuan, and also a heavy trust.

He knew that what he brought back was not just material, but a living, breathing world.

More than an hour later, the bus stopped at the gate of Qingbei University.

The three got off the bus.

The security guard was sitting in the duty room drinking tea.

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the three, and his eyes stopped on Lin Que's face.

The guard's hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air, and he took an extra look at Lin Que.

Obviously, the short video controversy online these past few days had been making such a huge stir that even the dormitory manager at the school recognized this recommended student who was at the center of the storm.

Lin Que's expression remained unchanged; he nodded politely to the guard and walked through the turnstile carrying the snakeskin bag.

The guard put down his teacup, watched Lin Que's back, and muttered to himself: "This batch of seedlings from the School of Liberal Arts, they look gentle and refined, but their bones are harder than the next."

Chen Jiahao, walking next to Lin Que, heard the guard's words clearly and couldn't help but chuckle.

Along the way, Chen Jiahao's gaze frequently landed on that rough snakeskin bag.

The bag looked very heavy; Lin Que had carried it the whole way, rarely even switching hands.

Chen Jiahao was full of curiosity about what was inside.

He couldn't guess what kind of mountain goods could make Lin Que treasure it so much that he carried it all the way back.

Lin Que's earlier remark about "disjointed scenes" made him feel that what was inside this bag wasn't just mountain goods, but some kind of heavy entrustment.

The three arrived at the dormitory building of the School of Liberal Arts.

Tang He's dorm room was on the other side, and she said goodbye to the two at the stairs.

"See you tomorrow."

Tang He waved at Lin Que.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, classmate Tang."

Lin Que responded, and Chen Jiahao followed suit.

Lin Que and Chen Jiahao continued walking up to the third floor.

Arriving at the door of dorm 303, Chen Jiahao pushed the door open a step ahead.

"We're back!"

Chen Jiahao shouted.

The lights in the dorm were on.

Xu Changge was sitting at the desk, holding a book.

Dan Yi was leaning against the window, holding a glass of water.

Hearing the sound, both turned their heads at the same time.

Four pairs of eyes met.

Lin Que walked into the dorm carrying the snakeskin bag, his gaze sweeping over Xu Changge and Dan Yi.

Xu Changge stood up.

The spotless shirt he had been wearing was gone, replaced by a plain grey knit sweater.

He looked less like a well-bred young master and had a bit more of the ruggedness polished by wind and sand.

There were even a few small, dry cracks on his fingers—marks left by the Gobi Desert.

Dan Yi put down the glass of water.

On his deep, mixed-race face, the original icy aloofness that kept people at a distance had dissipated a lot.

Replaced by a kind of vitality gained from being immersed in a crowded world.

His clothes faintly carried the earthy, bustling atmosphere unique to urban villages; he was no longer that lonely shadow.

Four people, four directions.

In a month's time, everyone had shed a layer of skin and grown a new set of bones.

Lin Que put the snakeskin bag on the floor, making a dull thud.

He looked at the three people in the dorm, his tone calm.

"It seems that none of us made this trip in vain."

Xu Changge walked forward, his gaze sweeping over Lin Que and the snakeskin bag.

He didn't ask about the internet celebrity matter, nor did he ask about the hardships in the mountains.

He knew very well that a person capable of writing such text would never be crushed by those external things.

"The deadline for submitting the manuscript is the day after tomorrow."

Xu Changge's tone was calm but carried a strong sense of pressure.

"I'm looking forward to your work."

Lin Que placed the snakeskin bag steadily on the corner of the table, brushed the dust off his hands, and a faint arc curved at the corner of his mouth.

"Same here."