Chapter 0054: Wang Zhen's Love

There are three types of men in this world whose appeal to young women is irresistible: the unrestrained literary youth, the handsome and wealthy diamond bachelor, and the mature, established married man.

Zhao Fusheng had read this in some magazine, though it was likely just the journalists' sensationalist banter.

But regardless, talent, in many cases, has an immeasurable allure for the opposite sex.

Of course, Zhao Fusheng had no intention of showing off among a group of kids in their early twenties. He wasn't a peacock, flaunting his prowess to gain attention from the opposite sex—in his eyes, such behavior was childish to the point of being laughable.

But since he had agreed to go, he would go. At worst, he would just play deaf and dumb once he got there.

Having made up his mind, Zhao Fusheng borrowed a few books from the library and returned to the dormitory.

When he entered, he saw only Wen Yu in the room. Wang Zhen, who was usually inseparable from him, was absent. As for Tan Kaixuan, that rascal had undoubtedly scurried off to find Hu Xia.

Why are you back so early?

Wen Yu, who was copying notes with his head down, looked up in surprise when he saw Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng shook his head. "Nothing much at home, so I came back early. Where's Wang Zhen?"

"He went to get hot water," Wen Yu said helplessly.

"Hot water?"

Zhao Fusheng blinked, making sure he hadn't misheard. Then he glanced outside, confirming it was early July, the hottest time of summer. "Has Wang Zhen lost his mind, or did I hear wrong? Hot water in this weather?"

Come on, it was summer. Wang Zhen, a fat guy weighing nearly two hundred jin—as Tan Kaixuan put it, if he got any fatter, he could be sold for slaughter—what did he need hot water for?

Immediately after, he saw three thermos bottles placed in the corner of the dormitory and asked in surprise, "Who bought these?"

It must be known that as one of the most frequently damaged daily necessities in a boys' dormitory, thermos bottles were undoubtedly a "rare treasure" in their dorm. Every year at the start of the semester, everyone would buy them, but before long, they would burst for various reasons—sometimes accidentally kicked over, sometimes thrown out the window in anger.

On Friday, Zhao Fusheng distinctly remembered that there was only one thermos bottle left in the dorm.

Now suddenly there were three. Could it be that Wen Yu and the others had bought them while he was away?

But no matter how he thought about it, Zhao Fusheng didn't believe those lazy guys would do such a thing.

Facts proved his judgment was correct.

Wen Yu sighed and said helplessly, "Wang Zhen brought them back."

"Brought?" Zhao Fusheng keenly caught a key word and blurted out, "Did that guy swipe them from the boiler room?"

Saying "swiped" was just a euphemism; in fact, he must have stolen them from the boiler room.

The key question was: why would he steal such things?

"Exactly, and from the same person," Wen Yu explained helplessly to Zhao Fusheng. He and Tan Kaixuan had also been dumbfounded when they first heard about it.

"A girl?" Zhao Fusheng gave a direct answer.

Obviously, if it wasn't a girl, then Wang Zhen must have had a grudge against that person.

"That's right. The guy has a crush on a senior girl. These past two days, he's been hanging around her dorm entrance, and when she goes to get hot water, he follows behind. At the boiler room, while she's not paying attention, he swipes her thermos bottle. See, he's already brought back two."

"That bastard, is he crazy?" Zhao Fusheng said speechlessly. What kind of nonsense was this? Was the dorm going to turn into a thermos bottle store from now on?

As they were talking, the dormitory door was pushed open, and Wang Zhen walked in carrying a pink thermos.

"Oh, Old Zhao is back." Seeing Zhao Fusheng, he said with a smile.

Zhao Fusheng glanced at him and said helplessly, "Come on, if you like her, just like her. What's the point of stealing her thermos?"

"Simple, I'm confessing my love to her." Wang Zhen's face was full of deep affection.

"Huh?"

Not only Zhao Fusheng, but even Wen Yu was shocked. What did that mean?

Wang Zhen smiled mysteriously, blinked, and said, "I plan to steal five hundred and twenty-one of her thermoses before graduation. Then she'll know it means 'I love you.'"

Silence. Absolute, dead silence.

Wen Yu and Zhao Fusheng exchanged glances. Neither spoke, watching helplessly as that guy Wang Zhen reveled in his own world. Zhao Fusheng suddenly felt a headache coming on and wanted to curse, "Go to hell."

…

…

Since it was impossible to stop some people's crazy behavior, the only thing to do was to keep an eye on him and prevent him from doing something even crazier. That was Zhao Fusheng's instruction to Wen Yu before leaving the dormitory.

He was afraid that Wang Zhen might have a sudden impulse and sneak into the girls' dormitory, which would be trouble.

Leaving the dormitory with a wry smile, Zhao Fusheng headed to his destination: the pavilion near the library, where the last gathering of Ninghai Normal University's Poetry Society this semester was being held.

As he approached, he saw a large banner hanging there. It seemed the Poetry Society placed great importance on this event, even putting up a banner. Thinking about it, it made sense. After all, everyone was about to graduate. Those leaving would probably never return, while those staying faced choices about the future.

Perhaps many years later, when everyone recalls this time, they will smile wryly. After all, being immersed in the world of poetry when young might only be a memory for those born in the 1970s.

"Zhao Fusheng, you're here."

Hu Xia, sharp-eyed, spotted Zhao Fusheng standing outside the pavilion and waved to him.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and nodded. His gaze swept over many people, some familiar, some unfamiliar.

The familiar ones were naturally Tan Kaixuan and the Poetry Society members he had met during the traffic law publicity, as well as Mu Qingqing and Li Zhiyuan. The unfamiliar ones were the other Poetry Society members.

"Why is he here?" Seeing Zhao Fusheng appear, Li Zhiyuan frowned and asked curiously.

Standing beside him was naturally Mu Qingqing.

Hearing Li Zhiyuan's question, Mu Qingqing thought for a moment and shook her head: "I don't know. Hu Xia must have invited him."

"What, do you know him?"

At that moment, a few girls standing beside them asked. These people were the core members of the Poetry Society, senior students in their third or fourth year.

The leader was named Gu Xueyi, the student council president of the School of Literature. She was a senior about to graduate.

She was also Mu Qingqing's predecessor, the honorary president of the Poetry Society.

Clearly, this young man who had suddenly appeared at the Poetry Society's internal gathering had caught their attention.

Before Mu Qingqing could speak, Li Zhiyuan snorted, "Just a fame-seeking hypocrite."

"Fame-seeking?" Gu Xueyi's delicate brows furrowed slightly. Clearly, Li Zhiyuan's words had soured her first impression of Zhao Fusheng.