Eric Dawson said righteously:

  “Jack, you’ve betrayed the revolution again!”

  After saying this, he stood up, left the dorm room, and went next door to see if Brian Carter had returned.

  The door was ajar; Brian Carter’s dorm was empty except for one person. Kevin Turner was the youngest in the dorm, had skipped a grade before, but after graduating high school, he quickly turned into an internet-addicted youth. As long as the class wasn’t taught by a particularly strict teacher who liked to call roll, he would stay in the dorm playing games.

  “Kevin Turner, the love guru isn’t back yet?” Eric Dawson asked.

  Kevin Turner didn’t even turn his head: “No, none of them are back.”

  The other two in Brian Carter’s small dorm were Dylan Morris, who got into Songda with his high school girlfriend—making all the single guys jealous—so you rarely saw him before lights out; and Paul Quinn, a local with a well-off family, who was a decent guy and got along with everyone, but often went out partying, since his social circle was different.

  Eric Dawson responded with an “oh,” then simply took out his phone, left the dorm, went down to the courtyard of Building 7, squatted by the flowerbed, lit a cigarette, and called Brian Carter.

  Some things weren’t convenient to say in the dorm, so he didn’t use the landline.

  “Love guru, I’ve got something to tell you.” As soon as the call connected, Eric Dawson got straight to the point.

  It was a bit noisy on Brian Carter’s end, but soon, he seemed to have reached a quiet spot outside and said with a laugh, “What’s up? So urgent? We’re still having hotpot.”

  “Jack and the guys randomly called a dorm for a mixer, from the Chinese department. They want you to go too. After all, you’re the love guru—good at talking, love to joke around, perfect for this kind of occasion.” Eric Dawson said with a smile.

  “Are you complimenting me or roasting me?” Brian Carter cursed, “Sounds pretty fun, I’ll tag along and see. But isn’t five people a bit disrespectful to the other side?”

  Eric Dawson paused and said, “I’m not going.”

  “Huh? Why aren’t you going?” Brian Carter asked in surprise.

  In front of Brian Carter, Eric Dawson didn’t hide anything: “I have a crush on someone, so going to a mixer with other girls doesn’t feel right.”

  “Huh?” Brian Carter was stunned for a moment before saying, “Chengzi, a mixer isn’t dating. Everyone just gets together, eats, drinks, expands their social circle. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to date. I’m so pure myself and I don’t mind, plus you and Grace Bennett aren’t even close to being a couple yet—there’s a long way to go before she’s your girlfriend. What’s the big deal?”

  “Forget it, I just feel a bit guilty. I’m not going.” Eric Dawson made up his mind.

  Brian Carter clicked his tongue, “Chengzi, are you some kind of living antique? I think you could set up a chastity memorial arch!”

  “Say whatever you want.” Eric Dawson hung up, didn’t get up, and kept squatting there, smoking. The cigarette tip glowed in the dark, bringing an unusual sense of calm.

  He smiled, fully understanding and empathizing with his roommates’ hormonal urges, and found the whole thing quite amusing. If he didn’t have a crush, he’d definitely want to go.

  This was real college life—noisy, but beautiful and full of youthful energy.

  And “Jindan” was another world altogether—illusory, unreal, but full of hope.

  After today, how would his life change? Would his martial arts make Grace Bennett see him in a new light?

  Putting out his cigarette, Eric Dawson sat on the edge of the flowerbed, took out his phone again, logged into QQ, and clicked on Grace Bennett’s profile picture.

  Students returning to the dorm streamed through the courtyard, but the corner where he sat was quiet and peaceful, like two completely different worlds.

Chapter 007: A New Coach

  Beep beep beep, QQ message notifications sounded nonstop, and Eric Dawson felt almost overwhelmed. On the screen were push news, local weather forecasts, replies from childhood friends and online buddies, and hundreds or thousands of messages from various QQ groups he’d joined.

  But he quickly ignored all that, because he saw that Grace Bennett had accepted his friend request.

  Opening the chat window, he suddenly hesitated—how should he address her?

  Directly calling her Grace Bennett felt impolite, but using “Zheke,” “Xiao Ke,” or “Keke” was obviously too familiar and might give her goosebumps or make things awkward, especially since they were just getting to know each other. Calling her “Classmate Yan” or “Grace Bennett classmate” felt too distant, like keeping someone at arm’s length.

  “Old classmate”? No, that sounded too much like a socialite, probably not something a college freshman would like!

  After thinking it over and hesitating for a moment, Eric Dawson finally decided not to use any form of address and just use an emoji instead.

  After sending a big grinning emoji, he quickly typed with his thumb:

  “Sorry, I had to leave the orientation early today. Was there anything important I missed?”

  After sending the message, Eric Dawson’s heartbeat unconsciously sped up a bit, half expectant, half anxious. Time seemed to slow down. Suddenly, with a “ding,” Grace Bennett’s profile picture lit up, her status changing from invisible to online. Only then did Eric Dawson notice her avatar was a cartoon cat—light gray, with big eyes.