1985, the year of the great writer, began with Infernal Affairs!

The sunlight shone on the open space in front of the dormitory building, making the cement ground appear white.

The leaves of the sycamore trees rustled in the wind, and the sound of a broadcast came from afar—it was Wuhan University's campus radio, playing "Ode to the Motherland."

On the open space in front of the dormitory building, the line slowly took shape.

Xie Lu and Chen Xiangdong stood in the middle of the crowd, slightly towards the back.

The people around me were all strangers, but everyone had a similar expression: curiosity, anticipation, and a little nervousness.

Some people were constantly adjusting their collars, some were whispering to the people next to them, and some were looking up at the dormitory building, lost in thought.

After waiting for another ten minutes or so, the last few students rushed over and joined the line, panting.

A girl ran so fast that her hair came undone. As she tied her hair up, she blushed and apologized, "I'm so sorry, I overslept."

No one blamed her; instead, everyone laughed, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

At that moment, a middle-aged man walked over.

He looked to be in his forties, not very tall, and slightly overweight. The most striking thing about him was his hair; a large bald patch was on the top of his head, leaving only a ring around the edges, a classic "Mediterranean" hairstyle.

He wore black-rimmed glasses and a gray Zhongshan suit, which was very clean, but the collar and cuffs were worn white.

He walked to the front of the line, stopped, and adjusted his glasses.

The crowd quieted down.

"Hello, students." He began, his voice not loud but clear, with a slight Jingzhou accent: "I am your counselor, my surname is Wang, Wang Zhiguo."

For the next four years, if you have any questions about your studies or daily life, feel free to come to me.

Xie Lu looked at him, a sense of familiarity welling up inside him.

In his past life, Wang Zhiguo was his tutor, a seemingly refined intellectual who taught traditional culture.

He speaks slowly and deliberately, is gentle in his manner, and is very popular among students.

But only a few students who were close to him knew how radical this seemingly refined man was at heart.

When he talks about history or traditional culture, he becomes a different person, and his words become sharp.

Later, when Xie Lu wrote articles, he often went to his office to consult him.

The two chatted for an entire afternoon, from the pre-Qin philosophers to the intellectuals of the Republic of China, from the Book of Songs to the vernacular literature movement.

The two shared a mentor-student and friend-like relationship.

Now, we meet again.

Wang Zhiguo said a few words of welcome, then said, "There are too many people here, it's not convenient to talk. Everyone, please follow me, we'll go to the classroom."

He turned and walked ahead, with forty students following behind.

The group walked through the dormitory area and along the cherry blossom avenue.

Although it wasn't cherry blossom season, the sycamore trees provided ample shade and a cool breeze made it very comfortable.

When we encountered students from other departments on the way, they were all led by their counselors to their respective teaching buildings.

The classrooms for the Chinese Department are located in the Faculty of Arts building, an old three-story building with red brick walls, wooden windows, and the glass is kept clean.

Wang Zhiguo led everyone up to the second floor and pushed open a door.

It was a standard classroom, not very big, seating about fifty or sixty people. At the front was a podium and a large, dark green blackboard with chalk writing still on it. On the podium were a chalk box and an eraser. The desks and chairs were made of wood, arranged in rows, some with carvings and drawings on them.

"Please sit wherever you like."

The students gradually sat down.

Some people rush to sit in the front row, while others prefer the back.

Xie Lu and the others chose seats in the middle. The four of them sat in a row, with Chen Xiangdong by the window, followed by Xie Lu, Zhou Wenbin, and Chu Yunfei by the aisle.

Once everyone was seated, Wang Zhiguo walked to the podium.

He took a piece of chalk from the chalk box and turned to write on the blackboard.

The chalk squeaked as it swept across the blackboard, the handwriting neat and precise, in standard regular script.

"Wang Zhiguo".

After he finished writing, he put down the chalk and dusted off his hands.

"This is my name. You can call me Teacher Wang or Lao Wang, it's fine either way."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Today is the first time we've all met, and we don't know each other."

Okay, let's start from the first row. Everyone, please introduce yourselves briefly: your name, where you're from, why you came to Wuhan University, and what you want to do in the future.

He pointed to the boy on the far left of the first row: "Let's start with you."

The boy stood up a little nervously. He was short, thin, and wore glasses.

"My name is Li Weiguo, and I'm from Luoyang, Henan," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I came to Wuhan University... because I want to study hard and become a teacher in the future, to educate students and serve my country."

Li Weiguo spoke these words with a strong Luoyang accent.

After saying that, he quickly sat down.

The second one was a girl with two braids.

"My name is Zhang Xiuying, I'm from Yichang, Hubei, and I want to be a writer in the future."

The third one, the fourth one...

One person after another introduced themselves.

Some spoke fluently, while others stumbled and stammered.

Some people say they want to be teachers, some say they want to be editors, and some say they want to pursue academic research.

They were all young people in their late teens, with the simplest aspirations for the future.

When it was Chu Yunfei's turn, he stood up and straightened the collar of his plaid shirt.

"My name is Chu Yunfei, and I'm a local from Wuhan," he said casually, with a touch of roguishness. "Why did I come to Wuhan University? Because my score was high enough. What do I want to do in the future?"

He paused, a mischievous smile playing on his lips: "Find a girlfriend, huh? What's the point of college if you don't date?"

The classroom fell silent for a second.

Then bursts of laughter erupted.

Even the girls in the front row who had been very serious couldn't help but laugh.

Chu Yunfei was very satisfied with the effect. He nodded to his surroundings like a star receiving cheers before sitting down.

Chu Yunfei has this flamboyant personality; he can't help but show off wherever he goes.

Wang Zhiguo laughed along with him.

He pushed up his glasses and said, "Chu Yunfei, your ideological awareness needs improvement."

University is a place for learning; you can date, but it shouldn't be your primary goal.

Chu Yunfei shrugged and didn't refute.

The laughter gradually subsided, and the self-introductions continued.

When it was Xie Lu's turn, he stood up.

"Xie Lv is from Liaobei County, Liaobei Province. He came to Wuhan University because he wanted to study literature with everyone and become a useful member of society in the future."

The main theme of this era is to study hard and serve the country.

It is precisely because of these generations of young people who cherish a deep love for their country that the nation later became prosperous and strong, completing in just a few decades what Western countries took hundreds of years to achieve.

As soon as Xie Lu sat down, Chen Xiangdong stood up next to him.

"Chen Xiangdong is from Harbin, Heilongjiang. He came to Wuhan University to study, and later... he wants to go back to his hometown and do something meaningful."