I met my whole family through Baidu Tieba.

Chapter 434: Yangke University's First Deepest Affection

Before the door opened, Lu Tinglan heard Wen Nian's laughter inside. It wasn't loud, and it was muffled, as if she was covering her mouth while laughing.

Lin Jin's voice followed behind, speaking very quickly, seemingly gossiping about something, with only a few words escaping – "Then," "As a result," "Guess what?" Wen Nian laughed again, this time louder, the laughter echoing crisply against the dormitory wall.

Lu Tinglan pushed open the door.

The laughter stopped.

It wasn't the kind of abrupt, interrupted stop; it was a stop right after the laughter had finished. Wen Nian sat in her seat, her face still turned towards Lin Jin, a smile lingering on her lips. Lin Jin leaned against the ladder between the bunk bed and the desk, twirling her phone in her hand. When she saw the door open, she continued twirling her phone, but her sentence stopped abruptly.

"You're back?" Wen Nian turned her face towards him.

"Um."

"Is it cold outside?" Lin Jin asked. She flipped her phone through her fingers, then flipped it again.

"It's cold." Lu Tinglan bent down to untie her shoelaces. "The wind is stronger than at noon."

"Then wear more clothes tomorrow." After saying that, Wen Nian turned her chair back to face her desk. There was an open book on the desk. She picked up a pen and drew a small circle in the margin. After finishing, she drew another one.

For some reason, Wen Nian remembered what happened this afternoon.

While studying in the study room, she started chatting with the two girls in front of her about borrowing a pen. As they talked, they learned that she was in the same class as Lu Tinglan, and even the same dormitory.

"You're in the same class as Lu Tinglan?!" "Tell me, what kind of person is she? Isn't she cool and collected?" "Yeah, tell me, tell me."...

The two girls were very excited and chattered away.

Wen Nian maintained a smile and said some things they wanted to hear, but she felt a little irritated inside.

This has happened several times already.

When Lu Tinglan was exposed, Wen Nian was very worried about him, but unexpectedly, things took a sharp turn for the better, and Lu Tinglan inexplicably became a celebrity at Yang University of Science and Technology.

In the past few days, whenever others find out that Wen Nian and Lu Tinglan are in the same dormitory, they always ask, "How is Lu Tinglan doing?"

She had become, in effect, "Lu Tinglan's roommate," rather than Wen Nian.

Of course, Wen Nian didn't have any issues with Lu Tinglan; they were still good friends.

Wen Nian just didn't like this feeling.

Lin Jin got up from the ladder, went to the water dispenser, filled a glass with water, gulped down two mouthfuls, wiped her mouth, and then climbed back into bed.

Before closing the curtains, she glanced in Lu Tinglan's direction, opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end simply pulled the curtains shut. The light from her phone screen shone through the gaps in the curtains, flickering intermittently.

The dormitory quieted down.

It was quiet, which was normal. The three of them were doing their own thing, reading, drinking water, or playing on their phones, just like before.

Wen Nian drew seven or eight circles on the pages, none of them sealed. Behind Lin Jin's bed curtains, there was a slight sound of turning over; she turned twice, found a comfortable position, and then remained still.

The water dispenser's water tank made a gurgling sound and a bubble appeared.

Lu Tinglan walked to her seat, sat down, and pressed the power button.

The computer hummed and started spinning, and the screen slowly lit up with a blue light, reflecting on her face and blurring her expression slightly.

She leaned back in her chair, waiting for the desktop to load. The dormitory behind her was just the right amount of quiet.

"Ding~ ding ding ding ding, ding ding ding ding—"

The classic NP desktop entrance sound effect played, and the bright light on the desktop clearly illuminated Lu Tinglan's face.

She opened the webpage, logged into the Beiming Community, and once the page loaded, the white and black words and pictures on the square spread across her retina.

She instinctively slid down.

Some people were discussing when secondhand P would be restocked, others were saying that people from Yangshang next door had started registering on the Beiming Community, and still others were showing off the braised pork from tonight's cafeteria, saying that today's caramelized pork was better than yesterday's. These posts were bustling and lively, like crowded stalls in a night market, each with a group of people in front of it.

She scanned through them one by one without clicking on any, but then glanced at the personal profile on the right.

The number of followers is very noticeable.

3917.

Before it was officially recognized, the number was 532, a sevenfold increase.

She is currently one of the top three accounts in terms of followers on the Beiming Community platform. At the current rate of follower growth, becoming number one is just around the corner.

Three thousand nine hundred real people leave comments under every single one of her posts every day, calling her "Sister Lan," praising her courage, and apologizing for their previous insults. She posted a new profile picture and changed her signature; her pinned post is now flooded with fist and heart emojis, a flurry of activity, like a New Year's celebration.

But all this noise seemed to be happening in another classroom. She was sitting in her own classroom, separated by glass, hearing the sounds but unable to see faces.

"They're probably just not used to it yet. They'll be fine in a couple of days."

Lu Tinglan silently said this to herself.

This is indeed something she hasn't gotten used to yet; after all, everything she has now is exactly what she has always dreamed of.

Lu Tinglan stopped thinking about it and refocused her attention on the square in front of her.

Buying a used P has become a fashion trend. You can easily find posts like "I'm not pretending anymore, I'm coming clean, I bought a used P" all the time.

At first, Lu Tinglan would click on these posts to take a look, since they were related to her. But after a few days, she became too lazy to click on them—all of these posts were very similar, and you could tell what they were about and what kind of photos they were just by looking at the titles.

Suddenly, Lu Tinglan stopped scrolling the mouse wheel.

Her gaze settled on a post.

I am no longer a lonely star.

The title is nonsensical; I have no idea what this post is about—at least when someone posts a picture of braised pork, there's a title like "The cafeteria auntie is so aloof."

But for some reason, Lu Tinglan paused for two seconds before clicking on it.

Because of her professional habits, the first thing she noticed when she entered the page was the poster's username—a name she didn't recognize, called...

Undying Evil God

"..."

Three black lines appeared on Lu Tinglan's forehead.

Is this a username that a human could come up with?

She was about to close the post, but then she thought, since she was already here, she might as well take a look.

So I endured it and quickly started watching.

This post has no pictures.

Text only:

I was always alone in college.

I went to the classroom alone, to the cafeteria alone, and back to the dormitory alone. Walking on the road, I saw groups of people chatting and laughing, so I slowed down and let them go first.

Being alone doesn't mean I'm unhappy, but it just doesn't seem like I'm particularly happy either.

That day in the dorm, A suddenly came over and asked if I had ever bought anything on Huanhuan.com. I said no. He said that everyone in the community was scrambling to buy secondhand items lately, and asked if I wanted to check it out too.

I was going to say I wouldn't go, since I don't listen to music. But A rarely initiates conversations with me, and before I could say it, he changed his mind and said, "Okay, I'll go check it out."

I opened the webpage, and there was indeed one for sale. It cost 430 yuan, was 90% new, and had a scratch on the casing. I hovered my mouse over the page, scrolled down twice, and then scrolled back. A-kun next to me asked, "Want to buy it?" I smiled and said I didn't listen to music.

I don't listen to music. I've never turned on the MP3 function on my phone since I bought it. I don't chime in when others discuss playlists, and I've never hummed along when others hum.

Eighteen years have passed, and it seems that no melody has ever truly left a mark on my life.

But I didn't close that page.

I bookmarked the page, placing it at the very bottom of my browser's bookmarks. I told myself it was just for casual browsing.

That evening, A and B got into another argument in the dorm, debating whether to adopt a people-centered or hero-centered view of history. They argued until they were red in the face and eventually started giving each other the silent treatment.

I sat down in my seat, opened the bookmarks, and looked at the page again. Four hundred and thirty, silver, with a scratch. What did the scratch look like? I zoomed in on the picture; it was a thin line on the bottom left corner of the back, like someone had scratched it with a fingernail, or like it had been rubbed against a table. I didn't know who the previous owner was. I didn't know why it was sold. I didn't know what story lay behind that scratch.

Close the page. Open it again. Close it again.

Later I realized that I did something that night—I searched for that person's posts.

Start reading from her very first post, see how she plates food, adjusts colors, and writes those seemingly exquisite captions.

Watch her get exposed, criticized, and revealed for who she truly is.

Looking at her response post, she said, "I'm not pretending anymore, I'm coming clean," and "Is it wrong for an ordinary person to want to look better?"

I watched her change her profile picture. It was a heavily edited side profile looking at the ceiling at a 45-degree angle, which she replaced with a front-facing, bare-faced headshot. Her dorm room was messy, the sunlight was poor, and she wasn't wearing any makeup.

I stared at that photo for a long time.

The photo wasn't good; by community standards, it was even terrible. But I couldn't look away. Because I'd never seen that look in my eyes before. The immortal evil god I saw in the mirror had averted eyes.

I turned off the computer. I lay down on the bed. There were traces of water leaking from the ceiling before, rings like tree rings.

The next day, the webpage was inaccessible. Sold out.

I stared at those three words for a long time. Actually, there was no particular reason to be sad—I never planned to buy it in the first place, I don't listen to music, and that "p" was useless to me.

But as I sat in the chair, staring at those three gray words, I felt a dull ache in my heart, like something was stuck in my chest, something I couldn't spit out or swallow.

I went to the cafeteria at noon and waited in line for ages. When it was finally my turn, the last piece of braised pork had been taken by the person in front of me. The cafeteria lady said, "That's all. Come earlier tomorrow." I carried my tray back to my corner seat and ate my vegetables, bite by bite.

Back in the dorm that evening, A and B were still giving each other the silent treatment. The dorm was so quiet you could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, like tinnitus.

I opened Huanhuan.com again. No stock. Refresh. No stock. Refresh. No stock.

That secondhand P suddenly became more than just a P.

It's the braised pork that was snatched away when I hesitated, the link I saved at the bottom of my browser but never clicked, and the words I swallowed back every time I wanted to say "I want" over the past eighteen years.

Winter rain began to fall outside the window, pattering against the dormitory window and running down the glass, blurring the light from the streetlights outside.

I've refreshed the page countless times, but there are still no new items listed.

That night, I did two things. First, I changed my phone's default ringtone. Second, I set Huanhuan.com as my browser's homepage.

Then it was just a matter of constantly refreshing.

I've been refreshing the page for countless days. Once I found a link, but it was snatched up the moment I clicked on it. Another time I found a link, filled in the address, and then it was gone. Another time I found nothing, and sat in front of the computer staring blankly at the search page for a full twenty minutes.

Until that evening.

I refreshed the page, and it appeared.

Silver Nan 2, 90% new, one scratch, 430. Without hesitation, I placed the order, filled in the address, confirmed, and paid. All done in one smooth motion.

I stared at the "Order Successful" page for a long time. Then I closed the page, reopened it to check, and it was still there. It hadn't disappeared.

The rain had just stopped the day the package arrived.

I walked alone across the campus and retrieved the palm-sized cardboard box from the laundry room. The box was very light, not at all like it contained something worth four hundred and thirty yuan.

On the way back, the sycamore leaves were scattered all over the ground, sticking wetly to the cement. A crack appeared on the horizon, revealing a small patch of gray-blue sky, as if someone had poked it with a finger.

My hands were steady while I was taking it apart. After I finished, I held the p in my hand and examined it over and over.

The silver casing looks better than in the pictures. The scratch is on the back, very shallow; you can feel the roughness when you run your fingernail across it. I tried to imagine what kind of person the previous owner was, where they scratched it, and what they were thinking when they sold it.

I can't figure it out. But it's in my hands now.

There weren't many people on campus at night. I put on my headphones and walked under the streetlights.

The sycamore leaves were still falling, with one or two occasionally brushing against my shoulder. The wind was cool, and the ground, which had just been rained on, reflected the sunlight.

The songs left by the previous owner were still playing in my headphones. I suddenly stopped and looked up at the sky.

The clouds had parted, revealing a single star, small, bright, and quiet.

The lyrics in the headphones drifted into my ears, as if they were coming from a very, very far place.

"Even among many lonely stars, I still found you."

I stood under the streetlamp, gazing at that star for a long time. Then I lowered my head and continued walking. The music in my headphones was still playing.

"It reflects my loneliness, reminding me that I am just a lonely star."

I am no longer a lonely star.

……

Lu Tinglan didn't know how she had finished reading it.

Just like she didn't know why she was crying.

Lu Tinglan covered her mouth, not making a sound, tears streaming down her face, sliding down her cheeks and chin.

It's not sadness, it's not grief.

They are two stars, meeting amidst countless stars in the sky.

"cough."

Lu Tinglan coughed lightly, wiped her face haphazardly with both hands, and turned her back to her two roommates to wipe away her tears.

Then, scroll to the bottom of the page.

This "immortal evil god" is just an ordinary user, and there's only one comment below.