Rejecting Tsinghua and Peking Universities: I Will Lead Harbin Institute of Technology to World Lead

The curtain of the small restaurant was lifted, letting in a cool evening breeze.

The middle-aged man behind the counter looked up and saw the three people walk in. His face immediately lit up with a smile: "Xiao Zhang, Xiao Qin is here. Same as usual?"

"Uncle Long, I'm bringing a new friend today." Qin Feng walked in front and patted the counter familiarly. "This is our roommate who has been missing for three years, Lin Feng."

Uncle Long wiped his hands and came out from behind the counter. His gaze fell on Lin Feng, and he looked him up and down. "What a handsome young man. You're the one they've been talking about for three years for that empty bed?"

Lin Feng smiled and nodded: "Hello, Uncle Long."

"Okay, okay, okay." Uncle Long said "okay" three times, then turned around and pulled out a thick menu from under the counter—his prized possession, only available to regular customers. "Here you go, young man, order. Try Uncle Long's cooking today."

The menu was handwritten, the paper yellowed, but the handwriting was neat. Each dish had its ingredients and flavor profile noted in small print, showing the owner's attention to detail.

Lin Feng flipped through a few pages, then turned to Zhang Haohan and Qin Feng: "You two are familiar with this, so you can order."

"Alright, then I won't be polite." Qin Feng took the menu and ran his finger over the names of several dishes. "Sweet and sour pork, stir-fried potatoes, green peppers, and eggplant, braised pork slices, and a cold home-style dish. Uncle Long, make the portions generous; we're celebrating our dorm reunion today."

Uncle Long noted down the menu, smiled and nodded, then turned and went into the kitchen. The sounds of spatulas clattering together soon filled the air, accompanied by the sizzling of oil in the pan, and the aroma of food began to permeate the air.

The three of them found seats by the window and sat down.

Outside the window, the street gradually darkened, streetlights lit up one by one, and students walked by in twos and threes. At the next table, a few students were discussing today's experimental data, their voices rising and falling.

While the three were chatting, the restaurant's curtain was lifted again.

Three boys wearing Harbin Institute of Technology uniforms walked in and paused when they saw the table by the window. The one in the lead was a tall, thin boy with black-rimmed glasses and a somewhat mean-looking face.

"Hey, isn't this our class's weirdo duo of swordsmen?" The boy with black-rimmed glasses spoke softly, but loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear. "Why is there an extra one today?"

The chubby guy next to him chimed in, "Zhang Haohan, you didn't go to the basketball court today, what a waste of your life?"

Another shorter boy looked at Qin Feng and asked, "Young Master Qin, how many girlfriends have you had today?"

The store fell silent instantly.

The students at the next table who were discussing experimental data stopped talking, and the sounds of cooking in the kitchen seemed to quiet down as well.

Zhang Haohan's face darkened, while Qin Feng pushed up his glasses and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

But neither of them spoke.

The boy with black-rimmed glasses turned his gaze to Lin Feng, sizing him up and down, his tone laced with sarcasm: "Bro, new here? What kind of taste do you have, hanging out with these two?"

Lin Feng put down his teacup, looked up at the three of them, and asked calmly, "Do I need to report to you who I have dinner with?"

"You!" The boy with black-rimmed glasses choked for a moment, then resumed his sarcastic expression. "We're doing this for your own good. These two are notorious oddballs in our college—one plays basketball all day dreaming of getting into the NBA, and the other uses his family's money to chase girls everywhere. Aren't you afraid of neglecting your studies if you follow them?"

The chubby boy chimed in, "Exactly! Look at our class, who's willing to talk to them? Only a freshman like you would be fooled."

Lin Feng picked up his teacup and gently blew on it to cool it down. "Thank you for your concern. But I know my own situation best."

His tone was so calm that it made the three of them feel frustrated, like they had punched cotton.

The boy with black-rimmed glasses' expression changed, and he finally sneered, "You don't appreciate kindness. You'll regret this one day."

After saying that, the three of them turned and left the restaurant, the curtain slamming shut behind them.

The store is bustling again.

The sounds of stir-frying in the kitchen resumed, while the people at the next table continued discussing experimental data, as if nothing had happened.

Zhang Haohan let out a heavy sigh and took a big gulp of water.

Qin Feng then looked at Lin Feng with a complicated expression: "Don't you think we... are strange?"

Lin Feng put down his teacup and looked out the window at the deepening night: "Do they have a grudge against you?"

"No grudge," Zhang Haohan answered first, his voice a little muffled. "They're just classmates who don't like us."

He paused, then continued, "I was lucky to get into Harbin Institute of Technology by the cutoff score in the college entrance exam. But I have no interest in research; I've always wanted to play basketball. So for the past three years, apart from required courses, I've basically spent all my time on the court."

Qin Feng picked up the conversation, his tone much more relaxed: "My family is in business, so we're not short of money. Coming to Harbin Institute of Technology was my dad's idea; he said it was enough to just get a degree. So I don't study much; I just date and enjoy life."

After speaking, the two looked at Lin Feng, waiting for his judgment—the kind of judgment they had heard overtly or covertly for the past three years.

Lin Feng simply nodded: "So you're living the way you want."

Zhang Haohan was stunned.

Qin Feng's hand, which was pushing up his glasses, froze in mid-air.

"In this life, if you can find something you want to do and actually do it, you're already luckier than most people." Lin Feng's voice was calm, yet it carried a strange power. "Studying science is a choice, playing basketball is a choice, enjoying life is a choice. As long as you don't hurt others or break the law, every choice deserves respect."

He looked at Zhang Haohan: "You want to go to the NBA?"

"I want to." Zhang Haohan's eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again. "But the environment in China... is too difficult."

"Difficult doesn't mean impossible," Lin Feng said. "If you really want to, you should give it your all, instead of playing basketball while worrying about what others think."

He then looked at Qin Feng: "Do you enjoy your current life?"

Qin Feng was silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded: "Enjoy."

"Then keep enjoying it," Lin Feng smiled. "But remember, enjoying life doesn't mean wasting time. You can date, you can have fun, but you should also find something that truly makes you feel fulfilled—not for others, but for yourself."

Just then, Uncle Long brought over the dishes.

A steaming bowl of sweet and sour pork sits in the center of the table, its golden-yellow skin glistening under the light, emitting a tantalizing aroma.

"The food is all ready, take your time." Uncle Long put down the dishes, patted Lin Feng on the shoulder, and said, "Young man, well said. You live your life for yourself, not for others."

He turned and went back to the kitchen.

The three of them picked up their chopsticks.

Zhang Haohan picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork, put it in his mouth, and chewed it for a long time before swallowing. He looked up, his eyes a little red: "It's been three years, and you're the first person... to say that."

Qin Feng poured himself a beer and raised it: "Lin Feng, no matter what you've been doing for the past three years, from today onwards, you are my brother, Qin Feng's brother."

Lin Feng picked up his teacup and clinked glasses with them.

No further words were needed.

But some things were already decided in the crisp sound of clinking glasses.

This meal took a long time to finish.

Zhang Haohan talked about his basketball dream since childhood, how he persisted in training despite his father's opposition, and how he got injured time and time again but got back up again.

Qin Feng then talked about his family, his father who hoped he would become a scientist, and how he found his own way of life amidst repression—perhaps not entirely accurate, but at least true.

Lin Feng listened most of the time, occasionally saying a few words.

He spoke of his experiences over the years, omitting specific details and only mentioning that he was conducting some research.

"But there's always a way to get through this," Lin Feng concluded. "Either wait, take a detour, or build your own path."

It was completely dark outside the window.

The number of pedestrians on the street gradually decreased, leaving only the streetlights standing quietly in the autumn wind.

When Uncle Long came over to clear the table, the three of them were still chatting.

"We're closing up shop, guys," Uncle Long said with a smile, shooing them away. "Come back tomorrow."

The three of them then got up to pay the bill.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, a cool night breeze swept over them. Zhang Haohan pulled his coat tighter and suddenly said, "Lin Feng, our department has a basketball game next week, wanna come?"

"Okay." Lin Feng nodded.

Qin Feng then took out his phone: "Can we add each other on WeChat? We can contact each other anytime if needed."

The three stood under a streetlamp and exchanged contact information. The light from their phone screens reflected on their young faces, illuminating the sincerity in each other's eyes.

On the way back to the dormitory, Zhang Haohan and Qin Feng were still excitedly discussing tactics for next week's basketball game. Lin Feng walked between them, listening, smiling, and occasionally offering a suggestion or two.