Chapter Six: That Azure Lotus

Ah, Wu Xiang yawned as he stood among the group, his tall figure making the gesture particularly conspicuous. But what could he do? He hadn’t slept a wink all night—if he wasn’t tired, he wouldn’t be human. The night before, everyone in Room 307 had gathered around Huang Yanbo’s laptop, loudly condemning the unscrupulous author of "First Intimate Encounter."

It wasn't just heartbreaking—now he’d stopped updating altogether! He claimed that was the ending, but why not write another book? Couldn’t he share more of those tricks for wooing women, those sweet words? On and on it went. Wu Xiang listened in a cold sweat, never daring to admit he was the author himself. Not only that, he even joined in berating himself, his voice righteous and hoarse, his indignation so convincing that no one could possibly suspect him. Naturally, after such a night, sleep eluded him.

To his surprise, the very next morning, all the freshmen were rounded up. Wu Xiang had no choice but to stand there with dark circles under his eyes, having been told to bring only basic luggage and toiletries. Then, in batches, they were herded—oh, no, escorted—onto the large bus. Wu Xiang understood: he was about to face the first challenge of his university life—military training!

Whatever the military training entailed, everyone had to line up and board the bus, and so did Wu Xiang. But unlike his classmates, he kept silent from forming ranks to taking his seat, his eyes fixed intensely ahead.

“Xiangzi, who are you staring at?” Huang Yanbo suddenly clapped him on the shoulder, nearly making him jump.

“N-nobody…” Wu Xiang denied reflexively.

“Come off it! Haha, your eyes are about to fall out and you still won’t admit it?”

Huang Yanbo’s powers of observation were certainly keen, but in truth, many had already noticed Wu Xiang’s lovesick expression. Why lovesick? Because Wu Xiang was staring at a girl.

Because of the number of students, the bus couldn’t be left with empty seats, so several classes were mixed together. This gave the literature class the chance to ride with the acting class—and Wu Xiang the chance to see the woman who now left him so transfixed.

Hai Qing! That’s right, her.

In his previous life, Wu Xiang had been a TV scriptwriter and was well acquainted with a top star like Hai Qing. Of course he knew the queen of television ratings! He also knew that Hai Qing had indeed been a student in the acting class of ’97, and was said to have been an excellent one. Wu Xiang thought he was prepared for this, but the reality was nothing like he’d imagined.

Hai Qing now was nothing like the one in his memory!

To put it simply, Hai Qing’s figure was impeccable. What does a woman desire most in her physique? Long legs, and a slender build. Hai Qing had both. And she had all the right curves—though Wu Xiang, being an upright guy, didn’t dwell on the specifics. Moreover, her face was beautiful; those large eyes, Wu Xiang could swear, were at least as striking as Zhao Wei’s.

But the most important thing was her aura. This girl was quiet, her lips pressed in a delicate line—nothing at all like the older Hai Qing, famous for her wide-mouthed smile. She was a solitary lotus in bloom.

At this moment, Hai Qing appeared to be a completely different person from the future national darling she would become. The contrast was striking. But what truly stunned Wu Xiang wasn’t just this—it was that he suddenly thought of his own novel, "First Intimate Encounter." He realized he had finally found his very own "Ling Wu Feiyang."

Wu Xiang had long made plans; the reason he’d adapted that novel was to one day turn it into a film—a complete, ambitious blueprint, though no publisher had yet approached him. Still, Wu Xiang was confident, as the online response had been excellent. The role of Ling Wu Feiyang, this crucial character, had always occupied his mind.

He had a few candidates in mind. The best was Zhao Wei, the "Little Swallow," but Wu Xiang didn’t stand a chance—she was already a superstar, far beyond his reach. Another was Zhang Ziyi, still unknown at the time. Wu Xiang knew she was so pure it was almost intimidating, and her acting skills reassured him. The key was that Zhang Ziyi hadn’t yet become famous or familiar to the public.

That was crucial. Wu Xiang believed Ling Wu Feiyang should be beautiful, like an ethereal sprite, and mysterious—absolutely not someone with a well-known face, to maximize the impact. Now, Hai Qing fit every criterion: looks, aura, acting skills—she was perfect for the role.

“Hey, stop staring. She’s already noticed!” Huang Yanbo teased, grinning at Wu Xiang. He hadn’t expected his new friend to be such a flirt.

“Oh, I was just lost in thought,” Wu Xiang said truthfully, though it seemed otherwise to those watching.

Seeing Wu Xiang trying to cover up, Huang Yanbo wouldn’t let it go. Laughing, he said, “You’ve got your eye on her? But do you even know her name? Yesterday, I beat you to it, you know. You’re late to the game.”

The early bird catches the worm—it seemed there was a reason Huang Yanbo had returned to Room 307 so late the previous night.

Seeing Huang Yanbo’s smug face, Wu Xiang felt irritated. So what if you know her name? I know even more! he thought.

“Her name is Huang Yi, isn’t it? The top student in your acting class, right?” Wu Xiang enjoyed his little triumph. He was well-versed in the details of this future star.

“Well, well!” Huang Yanbo was actually surprised. He hadn’t expected his friend to have done his homework. “You’re something else! You’ve got the inside scoop—been plotting for a while, have you?”

“Enough, I yield, okay? Any more and I’ll sound like a creep,” Wu Xiang replied, not wanting to keep bantering, especially as Huang Yi herself was now shooting them disdainful looks.

“Honestly, how annoying!” At that moment, the girl known now as Huang Yi, but destined to become Hai Qing, had already marked Wu Xiang as a scoundrel. His gaze was far too suggestive—she’d noticed even before boarding.

It was just a minor interlude. Wu Xiang had found his ideal Ling Wu Feiyang, though he had no idea that Huang Yi had already labeled him a pervert.

“Hand over all your devices!”

No sooner had they arrived than a stern instructor in military fatigues barked an order, giving these new film academy students a taste of discipline.

“Is that really necessary, Instructor?”

“Yeah, what about our rights?” came the protests, but not a single one of them was willing.

“What’s that?!” the instructor snapped. “Do you know where you are? This is an army camp! Here, you obey orders! If anyone is caught hiding a device, it’ll be confiscated and you’ll run twenty laps around the field!”

That did the trick. The grumbling ceased, and everyone hurried to comply. Wu Xiang reluctantly surrendered his beloved "Kouji"—this gadget meant almost as much to him as his own father, maybe even more.

“March!” … “Not in step! Watch your lines!” … The parade ground echoed with the booming commands of the instructors as the training began.