87: Chapter 87 Class Meeting

Arriving at the canteen, it was exactly dinnertime, and the place was bustling with noise.

Long lines snaked in front of the dozens of service windows on the first floor of Kangqiao Garden, stretching from one end to the other like long serpents.

The air was filled with a mix of scents—the oily smoke of stir-fried dishes, the aroma of rice, and the white steam rising from freshly steamed buns—all blending together in a steamy heat.

Freshmen held their meal cards high, looking around with bewildered expressions, unsure of which window to join the line for.

Liu Zhipeng stood at the entrance, his eyes widening. "Damn, so many people..."

Wang Lei stood on tiptoe to peer inside, his neck stretched long. "What are we eating? Which window is good?"

Chen Fan glanced over and pointed to a window with relatively fewer people. "Let's go there. Braised chicken, it's less crowded."

Zhang Yuhang nodded and was the first to walk over, turning his body sideways to move quickly through the crowd.

Upon getting closer, it was a stall selling braised chicken rice. The large pot was bubbling away, with chicken and shiitake mushrooms rolling in the soy-colored sauce, the aroma drilling straight into their noses.

"Are we eating this?" Chen Fan turned back to ask.

"Anything works for me." Wang Lei nodded, his eyes already fixed on the chicken in the pot.

The others also indicated it was fine.

The four of them joined the end of the line and inched forward. Several freshmen ahead were hesitant, staring at the menu for a long time, prompting the lady taking orders to urge them on twice.

When it was Chen Fan's turn, he leaned in to look at the bubbling chicken. The sauce was thick, and the mushrooms were soaked in the soy color.

"Large portion. Add an extra serving of mushrooms, an extra serving of vegetables, and an extra serving of meat."

Liu Zhipeng leaned in and also ordered a large portion, adding meat but no vegetables.

Wang Lei also ordered a large portion, without any extras.

Zhang Yuhang was the last. He was slim and his voice was quiet. "Small portion."

"Anything extra?" the lady asked.

"No, thanks." He shook his head, not adding anything.

Liu Zhipeng looked back at him, speaking impulsively. "Yuhang, you eat so little?"

Zhang Yuhang didn't speak, just smiled.

The four of them carried their trays and found a spot by the window to sit down.

Outside the window was the campus main road. The streetlights had just turned on, and students were walking in twos and threes with backpacks toward the library.

They were all growing boys, famished, so they buried their heads in their food as soon as they sat down.

For a moment, no one spoke. There was only the sound of chopsticks hitting the edges of bowls and the slurping of rice. The four of them ate without even lifting their heads.

Chen Fan picked up a piece of chicken. The mushrooms, soaked in the sauce, went down in a few bites along with the rice.

He ate quickly, but not with a frantic, wolfing-down speed. His rhythm was steady, mouthful after mouthful, without pause.

Liu Zhipeng was sitting opposite him, shoveling rice at a decent speed too, but halfway through, he couldn't help but look up at Chen Fan.

Once he looked, he couldn't look away.

In front of Chen Fan was that large portion of braised chicken, with extra mushrooms, extra vegetables, and an extra serving of meat—the portion size was nearly half again as much as his. Beside him were stacked four empty bowls.

Right now, Chen Fan was mixing his last bowl of rice, pouring all the sauce from the bottom of the main dish into it, stirring it twice, and shoveling it into his mouth. He ate everything clean.

There wasn't even any sauce left at the bottom of the bowl; it looked as if it had been washed.

Liu Zhipeng's chopsticks hung in mid-air, his eyes wide. "Chen Fan, your appetite is impressive, isn't it?"

He had a big appetite himself, but compared to Chen Fan, it was clearly not in the same league.

Chen Fan put down his chopsticks, pulled a tissue from his pocket, and wiped his mouth, his expression calm. "I exercise occasionally, so my appetite is a bit larger."

Liu Zhipeng looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on his shoulders and arms for two extra seconds. "No wonder you look like you're in such good shape."

The loose T-shirt couldn't hide much; the lines of his shoulders were well-defined, and the contours of his muscles were visible on his arms. It wasn't that exaggerated kind of bulk, but he looked very solid.

"You should exercise too. Maybe you could have a good physique like Chen Fan," Wang Lei added from the side, speaking vaguely with half a mouthful of rice.

Liu Zhipeng's eyes lit up at these words, and he looked down at his own stomach—a slight curve bulged beneath his T-shirt.

He hesitated for two seconds, then shook his head. "Forget it, I'm not cut out for that. I'd rather eat two more bowls of rice than exercise."

Just as he finished speaking, Wang Lei accidentally glanced at his phone screen and suddenly let out an exclamation. "Holy crap, it's 7:24!"

"What about 7:24?" Liu Zhipeng hadn't reacted yet, his chopsticks reaching into the bowl for the last piece of chicken.

"The class meeting starts in 6 minutes!"

Liu Zhipeng's hand shook, and the piece of chicken dropped back into the bowl. "Damn, we'd better get going—"

"Let's go, let's go! A few steps and we'll be there—" Liu Zhipeng urged from the front, already starting to stride.

Once out of the canteen, it had already turned dark outside. The streetlights were on, and there were still students walking in twos and threes toward the teaching building on the main road.

Crossing the main road and turning past the flower bed, the lights of the main building were right ahead.

Standing at the entrance were a few student union members holding signs indicating the floors.

"Which floor?" Liu Zhipeng asked, panting.

Chen Fan glanced at the message the counselor had sent on his phone. "Third floor, 305."

The four of them rushed into the building, taking the stairs two or three steps at a time. There were already students walking toward the classrooms in the hallway, and some turned to look at their group.

"We're here, we're here—this is it—" Liu Zhipeng skidded to a halt at the door of 305, grabbing the door frame and gasping for air.

By the time the four of them reached the classroom, many students had already arrived.

People were sitting in twos and threes in the classroom; some were looking down at their phones, while others were huddled together whispering.

The front rows were almost full, the middle sections were mostly filled, and only a few spots were left in the back rows.

The group snuck in through the back door, crouching down to find a row of empty seats by the window in the back to sit in.

Chen Fan leaned back in his chair and scanned the classroom casually.

Most people had arrived. A rough count showed about forty people, with clearly more girls than boys, looking like a seven-to-three ratio.

A few girls were huddled together talking, glancing over this way from time to time, their eyes sweeping over the boys before they laughed and looked away.

Liu Zhipeng noticed too and lowered his voice. "Hey, the quality of the girls in our class is pretty good."

Wang Lei leaned over to look. "Which ones, which ones? How come I didn't see them?"

"The two in the third row, the ones wearing white dresses, did you see them?"

"Oh—saw them, saw them. They're really not bad."

Zhang Yuhang didn't participate in this topic, sitting quietly, but from the angle of his slightly tilted head, he likely followed Liu Zhipeng's direction and took a look.

Not long after they sat down, a young woman in her mid-twenties walked in from outside the classroom.

She was wearing a simple white shirt and black trousers, looking clean and sharp. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and she wore thin-rimmed glasses, holding a folder and a stack of forms in her hand.