And so, Ye Yang was vaguely pushed out the door by the Spirit Serpent and went for a walk with Shen Ming.
The two of them—plus the snake—walked through the quiet park.
After all that commotion earlier, the night had grown deep. The park was completely empty.
Even though no one said a word, both Ye Yang and Shen Ming somehow relaxed, as if they were two friends who had known each other for a long time.
The Spirit Serpent was especially lively today. It would wrap itself around Shen Ming one moment, then around Ye Yang the next, even resting its head on top of Ye Yang’s—its considerable weight nearly making him stumble.
Even Shen Ming couldn’t help but take the initiative to say something: “It really likes you.”
Ye Yang blinked and steadied the Serpent’s enormous dangling tail. “Is that so?” The tail kept swishing back and forth, whipping him quite painfully…
Once the conversation got started, Ye Yang became much more talkative. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “Professor Shen, I’ve heard that you and the Spirit Serpent share the same body and soul, but I’ve never really understood what that means. Could you tell me about it?”
“Oh, that’s simple enough. It means that whatever I say is what…” Shen Ming says.
Before the sentence was even half finished, Ye Yang suddenly felt a lightness on his body. The Spirit Serpent—so large and heavy—vanished along with the rest of its sentence.
Ye Yang: “?”
Shen Ming pretended he hadn’t done anything. After a pause, he still offered an explanation: “The Spirit Serpent and I share the same mind and will, originate from the same source, and return to the same soul.”
Ye Yang: “…” That was exactly the same as what he had learned from textbooks. How official. A completely useless explanation!
But stealing a glance at Shen Ming’s expressionless face, he didn’t dare ask again and quickly changed the subject.
When they reached the deeper part of the park, Ye Yang suddenly stopped. “I’ve been here before.”
Shen Ming followed his gaze to a bench. He remembered this place too.
“That day, I had just come ashore. I didn’t know anything. I had used up a lot of energy, and it was an overcast day. I had nowhere to go, so I just lay down here and slept to regain my strength. Some kind person put a coat over me.”
Early the next morning, Ye Yang had met Tu Manli, and many things had happened after that, so he hadn’t had time to think about it. But he had taken that coat back with him, washed it, and kept it safely stored.
“I wonder when I’ll meet him so I can return the coat.”
Suddenly, Ye Yang turned to Shen Ming, his eyes sparkling. “Professor Shen! You take walks here often, don’t you? Do you have any clues?”
Shen Ming said, “I don’t remember.”
Ye Yang was a bit disappointed, but only a bit. “Oh well. I guess that kind person might not come here every day. I hope I get the chance to meet him someday.”
After this topic, Shen Ming became quiet again. The Spirit Serpent didn’t reappear either, and Ye Yang didn’t dare say much more. The nighttime walk came to an abrupt end.
Even after returning home, Ye Yang couldn’t stop thinking about it. The atmosphere during the walk had been quite nice, but somehow, at some point, Professor Shen seemed to be in a bad mood.
Actually, Shen Ming hadn’t outwardly shown any difference at all. But Ye Yang just had that feeling.
…
Only when things had completely quieted down across the hall did the Spirit Serpent reappear, its tone melancholic: “Does locking me away do any good?”
The Spirit Serpent had no name, because it was also Shen Ming—it was Shen Ming. Whatever Shen Ming was thinking, it knew perfectly well.
“Can you ever change this habit of yours? Look at you. Now you regret it.”
Shen Ming knew exactly what it was talking about.
The matter of covering Ye Yang with his coat in the middle of the night—he remembered it very clearly. But when Ye Yang asked, he instinctively pretended not to know. The moment he said it, he regretted it, and his mood had been terrible ever since.
The Spirit Serpent said, “See? You clearly like the little rabbit. What’s the harm in admitting it? Once he knows, he’ll surely like you back.”
Shen Ming was silent. The Spirit Serpent continued, “I get it. It’s not a big deal. Just explain it to the little rabbit tomorrow. If you can’t say it out loud, I’ll say it for you. Just don’t lock me away again!”
Still silence. Then the Spirit Serpent, hearing Shen Ming’s inner thoughts, jabbered on: “Fine, fine, not a rabbit. Do you think I don’t know it’s not a rabbit? I just like calling him a rabbit!”
·
The next day, Shen Ming—who had regretted his actions so much he hadn’t rested a wink—headed out to work with a grim face. He happened to run into Ye Yang, who was just returning home after sunbathing.
The August sun was brutal. Ye Yang had absorbed plenty of energy early on and was at his most energetic time of day. But seeing Shen Ming’s displeased expression, he swallowed the words that had been about to tumble out and gave a proper greeting: “Good morning, Professor Shen. Goodbye, Professor Shen!”
With that, he darted like the wind into his apartment across the hall. The door slammed shut with a “bang,” as if something were chasing him.
Shen Ming, a step too late, froze with his arm half-raised.
Then he lowered his arm, acting as if nothing had happened, and strode toward the elevator. Never mind. It wasn’t anything particularly important. He’d bring it up another time.
The Spirit Serpent, suppressed and unable to manifest, silently rolled its eyes.
·
That day, Shen Ming’s colleagues at the research institute all felt that the air pressure around him seemed even lower than usual. But after sneaking several glances, Shen Ming looked no different from normal. In the end, they could only attribute it to the fact that the head of their institute—Professor Cui Xipeng—had been bothering Shen Ming again, putting him in a bad mood.
Professor Cui Xipeng had indeed come to bother Shen Ming again.
Over the years, he couldn’t stand by and watch Shen Ming waste his remarkable talents, idling away his days in the research institute. Although having Shen Ming around had significantly advanced multiple projects, Cui Xipeng insisted that a genius like this should never be limited to just that.
So he often found excuses to bother Shen Ming, trying to convince him to take up a teaching position at Dongzhou University. That way, Shen Ming could continue to build his academic reputation, eventually organize his own team of students, consolidate more resources, and make greater contributions to the entire field.
Today, Professor Cui had some free time and once again came, undeterred, to offer his routine greeting: “Little Shen.”
He was the only one who dared to call Shen Ming “Little Shen.” “Little Shen, look. Dongzhou University is about to start its new semester. The Marine Biology Department has a deep connection with you. Can you bear to see that department die without a successor?”
This was pure nonsense. The Marine Biology Department, as the crown jewel of Dongzhou University’s Oceanography College, boasted strong faculty and the most advanced teaching and research equipment. It was second to none among marine biology departments nationwide.
But when it came to tricking Shen Ming, Cui Xipeng could spout any nonsense that came to mind.
Professor Cui had been saying the same few lines for so long that Shen Ming could almost recite them by heart. Not wanting to sit through another lengthy speech, he quickly interrupted: “Alright, enough. I agree.”
“Little Shen, don’t rush to— You… y-y-you… you agree?! I didn’t hear that wrong, did I?” Cui Xipeng nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes lit up. This eighty-something-year-old man suddenly seemed decades younger.
Shen Ming knew that look—it meant another long-winded speech was coming. He quickly cut in: “That’s enough. If you keep talking, I’ll change my mind.”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t!” Overjoyed, Cui Xipeng rushed out in a flash, terrified that Shen Ming might back out. Then he bounced back in, beaming, his steps noticeably more spry.
Though he had no idea what had suddenly changed Shen Ming’s mind, Cui Xipeng was not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He immediately strong-armed Shen Ming into signing both the electronic and paper contracts.
Holding the documents, Cui Xipeng was over the moon. Dongzhou University had long been ready for Shen Ming, just waiting for his approval. He could start anytime. From now on, Shen Ming was a specially appointed professor at Dongzhou University’s Oceanography College. It wouldn’t be long before he could become a permanent faculty member!
“Such a pity. Your abilities would more than qualify you to be department head, even a doctoral supervisor. It would be only right for me to give you my position. What a shame, such a shame.” If it weren’t for the fact that Shen Ming refused to participate in other projects—wouldn’t even lend his name to them—he would already have accumulated enough academic achievements and credentials.
Shen Ming silently turned ninety degrees to the left, his eyes never leaving the operating station. The message to leave was unmistakable.
Cui Xipeng didn’t hold a grudge against this impolite young man. He left happily with the documents. There were still many formalities to handle—he was a busy man!
…
Cui Xipeng and Shen Ming’s conversation had not been hidden from the others. The colleagues listened quietly, bursting with curiosity. Everyone was dying to know what had suddenly changed Shen Ming’s mind! But no one dared to ask.
Actually, it was very simple. Shen Ming did it for Ye Yang.
Shen Ming was a responsible person. He always had been. The very reason he always seemed so aloof and distant was precisely because he was too responsible.
Now that he had agreed to be Ye Yang’s mentor, he naturally had to fulfill his duties. Ye Yang was going to study at Dongzhou University. It wouldn’t be enough for Shen Ming to just give occasional lectures. He needed to teach directly at Ye Yang’s college to better protect him.
—This was Shen Ming’s justification to himself.
But in truth, only the Spirit Serpent and he himself knew. From the very first time—that unofficial encounter in the park—Shen Ming had felt that there was something about Ye Yang that he instinctively liked, though he couldn’t explain why.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was indeed curious.
What was so special about this little sea hare?
·
Ye Yang received his admission letter in mid-August. He had just moved into his new home and hadn’t even had a chance to properly get to know his freshly acquired, rather strange mentor when the new semester was already upon him.
For a little demon like Ye Yang navigating human society, the worst thing he could do was stand out. So, while he could return to his apartment on weekends, during the week he still had to stay in the dormitory.
After picking and packing a suitcase full of belongings, Ye Yang arrived at his home for the next few years—his dormitory.
The undergraduate dormitories at Dongzhou University were decent. Four people to a room, with a private bathroom, a south-facing balcony, and a shared common area for every three rooms. On the first floor of each building, there were refrigerators and washing machines. But despite all this, Ye Yang couldn’t help feeling nervous.
This was his first time living with humans. And unless something unexpected happened, he would be spending the next several years in close quarters with them. For a little sea hare who had rich theoretical knowledge but very little practical experience, this was quite a challenge.
Following the guidance of a senior student at the entrance, Ye Yang found his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, he was struck square in the face by a long, thin object flying toward him.
“Mmph—” That hurt!
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