novelnext Chapter 8 You're still here!
Chapter 8 You're still here!
"Although I know you love literature and have written quite a few books, going to art school isn't worth it!"
"If you really want to connect with those people, you can turn that into capital!"
"Besides, with your abilities, you'd be wasting your talents there; come to my company, the CTO position is yours, and you'll even have shares!"
The voice on the phone grew faster and faster, as if these words had been stored in his mind for a long time and had finally found an outlet.
Prince An almost laughed.
This guy is still up to no good and wants to recruit me into the company.
"Don't worry, I won't go!"
"Really?"
"Really!" Wang Zian thought for a moment, then added, "But don't tell anyone!"
There was silence on the other end of the phone again, and this time the silence was longer than before.
He knew this guy, who was much older than him, and his silence meant that he was processing the information, weighing the options, and deciding whether to continue asking questions.
In the end, he chose not to ask further questions.
"Do you need a car? I can send a driver for you!"
"No need!" Wang Zian stopped at the entrance of Yenching University, looked up at the plaque, and said, "I'll just wander around by myself and go back tomorrow."
"Okay!"
The person on the other end of the phone seemed to have put the matter aside, and instead spoke in a new, encouraging tone.
"Hurry up and finish your college entrance exams and come to the capital! The world here is even more wonderful."
"To be honest, brother." The voice on the phone was a little lower, with an unusual seriousness.
"With your intelligence and abilities, you should have taken off long ago. I don't know why you insist on following the conventional path."
Wang Zian stood at the gate of Yenching University, holding his phone.
Inside the gate was a straight avenue, with bare ginkgo trees on both sides, their branches motionless in the cold wind.
Students rode out on bicycles, with several books in their baskets and scarves fluttering in the wind.
"Isn't following the established path good?" Wang Zi'an countered with a smile; "Anyway, I quite like it!"
A laugh came from the other end of the phone, as if he had expected me to say that.
"Whatever you like!"
Then came the sound of chairs being moved, the rustling of papers, and someone pushing open the door and calling out, "Mr. Zhang, the meeting is starting!"
"Alright, I have a meeting to attend. Promoting this short video app is just too difficult!"
After uttering a complaint, the call ended.
Wang Zian looked at the blacked-out phone screen and understood the little scheme of the person on the other end of the line.
He smiled slightly and put his phone away.
····
I took a walk around Peking University and found it to be quite nice.
The Boya Tower looks quite old, the Weiming Lake looks quite clear, the library is quite bright, and the internet speed in the restaurant is indeed very fast.
When he finished his stroll and walked out of the east gate of Yenching University, he took out his phone and checked the time.
3:02 PM.
Wang Zian stood at the school gate, held his phone up to his eyes, and blinked at the time on the screen.
three o'clock.
It would take him half an hour to get back to his hotel near the Nortel Film Academy, where he packed his things, checked out, and then went to the station.
There's enough time, but it's a bit tight.
He put his phone back in his pocket and strode towards the subway station.
The evening rush hour on Line 4 hasn't even started yet, but the carriages are already packed.
Wang Zian stood leaning against the car door, one hand gripping the handle and the other in his pocket.
The train traveled through the tunnel, and outside the window were black walls rushing past and occasional GG light boxes flashing by. The light from the light boxes flickered across his face, cutting his well-defined features into segments.
He boarded the train at the East Gate of Peking University and got off at Xitucheng Station.
When I came out of the subway station, the sun had already moved far to the west, and the light had changed from white to pale gold, giving the whole street a warm tone.
It looks a lot like the scenery scenes in those urban TV dramas.
The road in front of the Beijing Film Academy was much quieter than in the morning. Most of the candidates and their parents had left, leaving only a few students wearing volunteer vests collecting the directional signs from the roadside.
Wang Zian turned into the Taifu Hotel. The young girl at the front desk recognized him and pulled his backpack up from under the counter.
"Sir, your bag."
"Thanks."
···
In the morning, Wang Zian used his status as a candidate for the Beijing Film Academy to leave his bag here.
However, looking at the young woman at the front desk, whose face was slightly flushed, it seemed that her own face was the more effective factor.
Wang Zian took the backpack and slung it over one shoulder.
He walked to the sofa area in the lobby, sat down, took out a power bank from his bag to charge his phone, then leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes for a while.
The lobby was quiet, with only the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional ring of the front desk phone.
The heating was on full blast, gradually melting away the slight chill he brought in from outside.
He sat for about ten minutes, and when he opened his eyes, the sun outside the French windows had sunk even lower.
Let's go fill our stomachs first!
He found a small restaurant next to the hotel.
The storefront is small, and the sign reads "Old Beijing Fried Noodles with Soybean Paste - Home-Style Dishes".
Wang Zian pushed open the door, ordered a bowl of noodles at random, slurped it down, paid, and came out again.
The moment I pushed open the door, the evening breeze rushed towards me.
It wasn't dark yet, but the streetlights were already on.
The orange lights stretched out along the road one by one, as if someone had drawn a glowing dotted line on the ground.
The sycamore trees along the roadside had not yet grown leaves, and their bare branches were illuminated by the streetlights, giving them a skeletal beauty.
The long shadows were cast on the ground, overlapping with the shadows of the buildings opposite, forming a patchwork of varying shades of gray.
Wang Zian tightened the shoulder straps of his backpack and walked slowly along the road.
He took out his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of the shadow of a large sycamore tree by the roadside.
The tree's shadow, cast by the streetlight from the side, lay on the sidewalk, its branches and twigs outlined as clearly as a woodblock print.
He looked at the photo, felt the angle could be shifted a little further, so he moved half a step to the left and raised his phone again.
As the shutter clicked, he caught a glimpse of several people walking across the street out of the corner of his eye.
He didn't pay attention and continued looking down at the photos.
As the group drew closer, he glanced at them again out of the corner of his eye.
The group consisted of both men and women, talking as they walked; judging from their demeanor, they seemed to be teachers.
The streetlights shone on their faces, flickering in and out.
Two of their faces popped into his head.
It was the old man who proctored his exam today and the female teacher who kept staring at him in the exam room.
Wang Zian's finger stopped on the phone screen, and his whole body froze for about half a second.
He slowly put his phone down, glanced to the side, and pretended to look at a tree.
Just as he was about to turn his head away, pretend he hadn't seen it, and slip away.
"Hey! You didn't leave!"
The old man in the crowd took the initiative to talk to him.
His tone was familiar, even somewhat pleased, as if seeing Prince An in this place was an unexpected but delightful thing.