2: Chapter 2 Still Waters Run Deep

Chen Youhua pushed open the heavy glass doors of Z University's library, and a unique scent—a mix of old paper and a piercing chill—hit him full in the face.

The December wind, carrying the damp cold characteristic of Jiangnan, was like countless tiny ice needles, specifically seeking out any gap in one's collar.

He took a deep breath, the cold air rushing straight into his lungs, and then slowly exhaled. A cloud of white mist quickly dissipated under the dim yellow streetlights, as if what he breathed out wasn't just air, but three months of time.

On a winter night at the Zijingang Campus, figures were sparse, everyone wrapped up like zongzi and hurrying along, wishing they could immediately retreat into their warm shells.

Has it been three months already?

Chen Youhua weighed the time in his mind.

Discounting that freshman baptism filled with the scorching sun and drill sergeants' commands, the remaining days had almost entirely been fed to that row of window seats in the library.

Classroom, library, dormitory—a three-point routine as simple as an old monk in meditation.

The coursework wasn't easy, but for him, the pace of the classroom always felt a bit tepid and dull, so he became a regular at the library.

Socializing? Nonexistent.

The other three in the dorm had quickly slid into their own life channels after politely exchanging names when they first met at the start of the semester.

There were no conflicts, but no deep friendships either; they were like four planets on set orbits, occasionally brushing past each other in the cramped dormitory space before quickly rushing back to their own worlds.

Zhao Lei's world was the hail of bullets in his headphones and the flashes of swords on his screen.

Li Fan's world was the unpredictable light and shadow of short videos on his phone.

Wang Pengfei's world was hidden behind his perpetually closed bed curtains, with only the rapid clicking of his keyboard revealing the universe within.

Chen Youhua was happy for the peace and quiet.

This near-vacuum state of zero disturbance was exactly what he needed.

Like a silent and persistent scholar, he moved with a clear objective toward the ultimate goal of life's mysteries.

He systematically devoured the core textbooks for freshman and even some sophomore Biological Sciences over and over again.

It wasn't to compete with anyone; it was more like an instinctive hunger.

He desperately needed a skeleton, a framework that could support his understanding of this massive discipline.

Now, this framework was more or less established in his mind; though still somewhat rudimentary, the structure was clearly visible.

Cells were the foundation; those sentries on the membranes, the furnaces in the energy factories, and the assembly workers on the protein production lines were no longer dry terms in a book, but had specific responsibilities and operational logic.

He had also grasped the general flow of information transmission, from the mysterious genetic code to the final instructions for life.

And then there were those exquisite regulations, like signal corpsmen within the cell, knowing how to transmit and amplify commands.

These fragments were finally starting to piece together a faint picture in his mind; they were no longer isolated points but lines connected to one another.

Of course, he knew this picture was still hazy, with many details appearing as if through frosted glass.

For instance, how certain key switches were precisely toggled, or the complex braking mechanisms of certain signaling pathways.

These blurred zones, like blanks on a map, clearly marked the territories he needed to explore next.

This near-closed focus made him part of the background in that fixed corner of the library.

Occasionally, a glance would sweep over this "squatter" who always stayed until the closing music played, but that was all.

This complete invisibility provided the deep-sea-like tranquility necessary for constructing his inner world.

Pushing open the door to Dorm 307, a heatwave mixed with the smell of cheap instant noodles, young sweat glands, and hormones hit him.

Zhao Lei wore massive headphones, his body twisting along with the intense game footage as if he were wrestling with an invisible enemy.

Li Fan reclined on his bed, the light from his phone screen reflecting his dull yet ever-changing expressions as he swiped through short videos.

Wang Pengfei's bed curtain was like a barrier, with the sound of rapid keyboard tapping coming from within like a storm.

Chen Youhua walked through the noisy background noise and went straight to his desk by the window, clicking on his faithful little desk lamp.

He didn't sit down immediately; his gaze drifted out the window toward the night, fragmented by streetlights, while his fingers unconsciously tapped the cold desktop.

Three months of buried study had ultimately built a kingdom of mere theory.

He had the knowledge system, but which of the crowns of biology wasn't forged amidst the cold instruments of a laboratory, operations precise to the microliter, and countless anxious dawns spent waiting for results?

This realization weighed heavily on his heart.

No matter how beautiful the molecular dance in books was, it couldn't compare to the shock of seeing various cell structures under a microscope with his own eyes.

No matter how rigorous the theoretical derivation, it couldn't match the subtle tactile sensation of precision brought by a fraction of a microliter when operating a micropipette.

When the centrifuge stopped and he saw that clear boundary separating different components, that pure, intuitive sense of accomplishment...

The strict protocols in the lab, the surprises where reality differed from theory, and the moments that finally revealed a tiny glimpse of life's mysteries.

That was the truly beating heart of biology!

Chen Youhua really wanted to enter a lab; he wanted to work on projects!

But he was only a freshman.

If he followed the normal path, it would be at least a year or two before he could even touch the doorknob of a core experimental course, let alone slip into a professor's mysterious research group.

To a freshman like him, the laboratory door was towering and cold, with an air of rebuffing outsiders.

"I must get in."

This thought was like a seed that instantly sprouted in his heart with an unquestionable firmness.

Rely on sweet talk? Rely on grandstanding?

He sneered inwardly.

Only strength—solid, hard strength—could be the only lever to pry open that door.

But here was the problem.

You had to let the people who held the keys—those hurried professors and busy Researchers in the labs—see this lever!

Otherwise, no matter how hard the lever was, it would just quietly rust in a corner.

His gaze swept aimlessly across the desk.

Professional books were spread open and notes were piled up like a small landslide of knowledge.

Suddenly, a piece of printed paper at the corner of the desk, ruthlessly pinned down by several thick volumes with only a small colorful edge showing, caught his eye.

He pulled it out; it was a preview of academic activities posted on the college bulletin board a few days ago, which he had grabbed on a whim.

Most of the information on the paper was about routine lectures for next semester that sounded yawn-inducing.

He scanned it quickly, his fingertips sliding across the paper with a faint rustling sound.

Suddenly, a line of small bold text, like a spark abruptly lit in the dark, jumped into his eyes:

[Famous Teacher Forum] Professor Zhang Zhenhua: Dynamic Regulation of the Cytoskeleton and Cell Fate Determination

Time: Next Wednesday, 3:00 PM - 5:00 PM

Location: Lecture Hall A101, School of Life Sciences

Open to all faculty and students of the university.

Professor Zhang Zhenhua!

Chen Youhua's heart skipped a beat, then began to thud powerfully against his chest.

He was all too familiar with this name!

In the professor directory on the school's official website and in the author columns of journals, this name appeared repeatedly.

Professor Zhang was a big shot in the school researching Cell Biology, especially in the fields of the cytoskeleton and cell migration, and he managed a prestigious Molecular and Cell Biology Laboratory.

His gaze was like it was drawn by a magnet, firmly fixed on the lecture title: "Dynamic Regulation of the Cytoskeleton and Cell Fate Determination."

This was exactly the field he had been both loving and hating during his recent self-study, feeling as if a kitten were scratching at his heart!

How did these dynamic dances ultimately determine whether a cell divides, migrates, or heads toward death or differentiation?...

The descriptions in books always had a vague feeling of scratching an itch through a boot.

A thought, like a match struck in absolute darkness, instantly ignited his pupils and illuminated the seemingly pathless fog before him!

A public lecture!

A platform where he could directly face Professor Zhang, where he would no longer be part of the library's background, but a person who could ask questions, who could think, and maybe... even let the other person see the existence of the lever!

An opportunity! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Next Wednesday at three in the afternoon!

Chen Youhua gripped the thin piece of paper, his knuckles turning slightly white, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up into an arc full of fighting spirit.

The chill outside the window seemed to be dispersed by this sudden surge of aspiration.