The landlord has multiple personalities and wants everyone to pay him.

"That girl actually agreed. Hey guys, how about we go learn guitar too? Even if we can't find a girl, we can form a band after graduation. Maybe we'll become famous."

After watching the commotion, the four of them jumped down from the flower bed, dusted themselves off, and walked back.

"Come on, Qiangzi. Your fingers are as stiff as old tree branches, you can't even split them. You want to play the guitar? I wouldn't even use them as a back scratcher because they're too stiff."

While mimicking the Eagle Claw technique from Wudang martial arts, Wang Yu swayed up and down, imitating playing the guitar.

"Do you believe I'll strangle you?"

The group of people laughed and teased each other as they walked back the way they came.

The evening breeze carried a hint of coolness, dispelling the summer heat. The streetlights had not yet come on, and only the last trace of dark red sunset glow remained on the horizon.

As Ye Shu passed by the old ginkgo tree, he still had the popsicle stick in his mouth. His eyes casually swept across the ground, and he noticed a square-shaped object under the tree.

He stopped, looked down, and saw a notebook about the size of his palm.

Its outer skin was a pale yellow, looking a bit dirty and covered in dirt, and it lay there quietly on the ground.

Was it...that girl who dropped it? Ye Shu's mind immediately flashed back to the figure of her hurried departure.

It's very possible that she left in such a hurry.

Ye Shu hesitated for a moment, then bent down and picked up the notebook. He wanted to see if there was a name or something written on the title page.

The first page has no name, no student ID, and no personal information.

Only through repeated writing, using blue, black, red ink, and pencil, line after line, column after column, did they fill the same sentence.

Am I really that bad?

Am I really that bad?

Am I really that bad?

……

The page was densely covered with writing. Different colors of handwriting were stacked together, sometimes neat and sometimes messy, and some strokes even tore the paper because they were written too hard.

These brushstrokes resemble a tangled vine, intertwined with the same question.

Some of those question marks were written very large, while others were shrunken into a ball, but with each stroke, one could almost hear the despair in the heart of the person who wrote them.

Ye Shu felt a bit down. What was this? A record of emotional venting? But judging from the way it looked, it didn't seem like something for everyday venting.

The first word that popped into his head was depression?

"Shu'er, what are you looking at over there? Did you find some money?"

Han Yang, who was walking ahead, noticed that he hadn't followed, so he turned around and called out. Wang Yu and Zhang Xiaoqiang also turned around to look.

"No, it's just a tattered notebook. I don't know who threw it here. Let's go."

Ye Shu casually closed the notebook, put it back in its place, and then quickly followed the three of them.

The other three didn't pay any attention and continued their previous nonsense about bands and martial arts, laughing and joking as they walked towards the dormitory building.

As the sun completely sank below the horizon and the streetlights came on, the old ginkgo tree and the notebook beneath it were left behind in the gloom.

Back in the dorm, the question of confessing my feelings was quickly replaced by a new game, whether to go to the cafeteria or eat instant noodles, and signing in for class tomorrow.

Ye Shu also put that little incident behind her and returned to her normal life.

However, the excitement will eventually subside, and once it does, the paper covered with the same sentence, with its scribbles so forceful they tore through the paper, will uncontrollably resurface.

Am I really that bad?

What could possibly happen to make someone ask themselves this question repeatedly?

The departing figure and the pages full of questions kept expanding in Ye Shu's mind. Although he didn't know exactly what had happened, the heaviness of self-doubt still made him feel uneasy.

It's a bit congested, a bit annoying, and a bit bothersome.

Ye Shu sat at his desk, casually tore a page from a notebook, picked up a pen, and then paused. What should he write?

Words of comfort? He doesn't know how.

Reasoning with him? He himself is often confused.

He scratched his head, then turned on his computer and searched for keywords such as "encouraging words" and "inspirational quotes for when you're feeling down."

These kinds of inspirational quotes and motivational sayings are readily available online.

He glanced at them, picked out a few that looked somewhat pleasing and not too cheesy, and then modified them according to his own ideas before writing them down on the paper.

Life is like running a marathon...

"No matter what happens..."

"You must believe..."

His writing wasn't fluent; he would stop every now and then to think things through, crossing out anything that seemed too sentimental and replacing it with something he felt comfortable with.

After finishing writing, he picked up the paper and read it silently to himself. He pursed his lips, feeling a bit silly, with a touch of pretentious sourness.

He suddenly realized how inexplicable his behavior was. Why was he meddling in other people's business? He didn't even know who the girl was, or what had happened. The notebook might have already been picked up or taken away by the school's cleaning staff. It had absolutely nothing to do with him.

but……

What if?

What if that notebook is still there? What if that girl is stuck in a rut and can't think straight?

Although Ye Shu was not a saint, he did not have excessive compassion.

But at that moment, for some inexplicable reason, he felt a little uneasy.

Perhaps it was because the fleeing figure was too lonely, or perhaps it was because the shouts on that page were too glaring.

Tsk, let's just consider it a good deed for the day, accumulating some merit. Didn't Buddha say that saving a life is better than building seven skyscrapers? What if... what if, because of my few words, that girl really does change her mind? Then I'd have gained something! Maybe God will even reward me with a girlfriend or something for doing this good deed...

This somewhat flawed idea made him feel better, and gave him a sufficient reason to take action.

He put the piece of paper with the chicken soup written on it into his pocket, got up and walked out of the dormitory.

The dormitory building was still open, but it was already completely dark outside.

The temperature of the summer night breeze was just right, and it rustled through the trees along the roadside.

Ye Shu put his hands in his pockets and walked towards the small square.

That notebook must have been picked up a long time ago. If it's still here, it's probably unwanted. Coming over here so late at night to slip a note into a notebook—it just looks stupid.

Come here.

Ye Shu thought of these four words and didn't stop walking.

Eighty percent of the things he accomplished in his life were due to these four words.

When he arrived at the old ginkgo tree again, the streetlights made the tree look somewhat white, and he squinted as he looked at the roots.

The pale yellow notebook was still there, completely untouched.

It seems no one really wants it anymore. Or perhaps that girl really intends to abandon it, along with all that painful self-doubt.

He crouched down, picked up the notebook, and opened it to the first page. The densely packed words reappeared, appearing even more tragic under the streetlight.

He placed the piece of paper with inspirational quotes inside the first page filled with self-doubt, then closed the notebook and put it back where it was.

He didn't read the rest. First, it's wrong to pry into other people's privacy. Second, he genuinely had little interest in spying on other people's lives.

He turned around, put his hands back in his pockets, and strolled slowly back to his dormitory.

The night breeze was cool, and it brushed against his face. His mind was blank. He had neither the expectation of doing good deeds nor any worries. This was just a small task that he had decided to do on a whim in the main storyline of his life.

But he didn't know that about five minutes after he left, a figure wearing a light blue dress reappeared under the old ginkgo tree.

Her eyes were still a little red, and she looked a bit tired, as if she had made up her mind about something and wanted to come back to confirm it one last time.

She looked down at the notebook, picked it up, and opened the first page. She froze.

The jarring words from the notebook didn't appear; instead, they were covered by a piece of paper torn from the notebook.

On the paper, there was unfamiliar, not-so-beautiful handwriting, filled with simple yet warm words that she never thought she would see, words that made him hold his breath instantly.

The evening breeze rustled the ginkgo leaves as the girl squatted under the tree, reading the words on the paper word by word by the light of the streetlamp.

For a long, long time.

She clutched the paper, then hugged it tightly to her chest, along with the notebook.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling again.

The night is still long, and the cool breeze persists.

But some things, on this ordinary night, were quietly changed because of a note that was casually written.

Ye Shu had no idea what his act of hoping God would reward his girlfriend would bring about.

And the girl, much later, opened that notebook again.

She carefully tore off the page filled with painful questions and treasured it as a testament to the past.

Then, on the new title page, he pasted the note filled with inspirational quotes.

At the very bottom of the note, she wrote a small line of text:

Thank you. Also, my name is Jiang Yining.