Chapter 102: Pierced to the Heart

Yan Run smiled warmly, his round face radiating kindness; yet his eyes seemed to gleam with a hint of betrayal as he studied Zhong Yuxiu for a long moment before speaking.

“Hello there, Zhong Yuxiu!” He turned to speak with Principal Xu. “I’ve heard you took on a final apprentice, and I’ve seen her from a distance before. Now that I look closely, she’s quite striking. If you’ve chosen her for your tutelage, she must have exceptional talent.”

His smile faded a touch, though it didn’t show on his face. Principal Xu praised, “Yuxiu is attentive and diligent. She’s only studied with me for just over a month, yet she’s already memorized all the medical books in my office. If I’d met someone like her when I was young, I would have been mortified by comparison.”

“Hahaha, that’s impressive,” Yan Run replied, casting Zhong Yuxiu another glance, unwilling to believe that anyone could absorb so much medical knowledge in just a month. He suspected Old Xu was exaggerating for the sake of his reputation.

“It’s true! We’ve always known that medicine requires talent, especially traditional medicine,” Principal Xu said, hands folded before his stomach, smugly. “My Yuxiu is truly gifted, born for this path. Others pale in comparison; she’s only studied with me for such a short time, and now she’s already learning how to take pulses. Once she’s mastered that, I’ll teach her how to prescribe medicine.”

Yan Run was at a loss for words, convinced Xu was boasting; but everyone knew what kind of person Old Xu was—he wouldn’t exaggerate without reason. Even if Zhong Yuxiu wasn’t as extraordinary as Xu claimed, she must be at least halfway there.

And halfway was remarkable enough.

Yan Run finally began to take Zhong Yuxiu seriously. “With what you’ve said, my own apprentice seems like a blockhead; he’s studied under me for years and is still hopeless.”

Principal Xu laughed heartily.

“Don’t say that! Chen is quite capable too.” Though not as good as Yuxiu, he kept that to himself, secretly delighted.

During those turbulent times, he suffered greatly because of his overseas connections; students left him one by one, some even kicking him when he was down. Even now, though he’d returned, he hadn’t contacted those students, nor did they have the face to contact him—their ties were severed.

He had thought his life would simply continue in this way, teaching and nurturing students, living at ease. But then he met Zhong Yuxiu and was moved once again to take on an apprentice.

Fate is always unpredictable.

Professor Yan Run shot him a glance, as if the others couldn’t see his smugness.

“Are we going or not?”

“No rush! Let’s walk and talk.”

The two strode ahead, Principal Xu seemingly oblivious to Professor Yan’s discomfort, speaking with great enthusiasm; eight out of ten sentences subtly showed off his young apprentice, turning Professor Yan’s face dark with frustration.

Zhong Yuxiu and Chen Xuebin followed behind, helpless yet amused.

“Zhong, Principal Xu and my teacher are always like this. Whenever they meet, they can’t help but spar with words,” Chen Xuebin said with resignation, his good-natured temperament evident.

Had she not observed Chen Xuebin’s eyes carefully, she might have believed him.

His eyes were deep and inscrutable, revealing only the emotions he wished to expose.

Zhong Yuxiu replied calmly, “I understand, friends have their own ways of interacting. But has Professor Yan always behaved like this in front of Principal Xu before?” She couldn’t shake the feeling that Principal Xu was deliberately getting revenge.

Chen Xuebin smiled, “He really has.”

“That explains it.” Even hearing a bit of Principal Xu’s story made her feel sorry for him—truly unfortunate. Professor Yan kept boasting about his apprentice; it’s no wonder Principal Xu remembers, grabbing every opportunity for a little payback.

Principal Xu was probably thinking: Go ahead and show off—who doesn’t have an apprentice? Mine is more talented than yours. Let’s see how you brag in the future.

“The older generation likes it this way. I often accompany my teacher on visits, meeting his friends. They always boast about their pupils or juniors when they get together. You’ll get used to it after you’ve seen it enough,” Chen Xuebin said gently.

Zhong Yuxiu didn’t disagree; elders love to boast because they have something worth showing off. They’re old, and their greatest joy is watching the younger generation succeed. When someone shines, they love to talk about it, and after a while, that successful junior becomes a fixture in their conversations.

Even those elders who don’t have this habit, once they’ve heard enough, can’t help but want to boast themselves.

“Comrade Zhong, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, go ahead.”

Chen Xuebin said, “I heard from my teacher that you studied at Huada?”

“Yes, I was in the Physics Department at Huada.” Zhong Yuxiu looked up at him. “Are you really that curious about my time at Huada?”

“Not exactly.” Chen Xuebin feigned embarrassment. Seeing she didn’t give him an easy way out, he had to find it himself. “You were studying Physics at Huada—why did you decide to transfer to the Medical School? Your major was Physics; wouldn’t research be better than becoming a doctor? If you’d rather not answer, that’s fine.”

Zhong Yuxiu’s hand moved slightly by her side, her index finger and thumb rubbing together as she glanced at him discreetly. “There’s nothing I can’t say. I wanted to study medicine, so I came.”

“My teacher said you were personally recommended by President Guo of the Physics Department at Huada?”

“Yes,” Zhong Yuxiu replied, keeping her own counsel and following his lead. “I finished all my courses at Huada, so I didn’t really leave.”

Chen Xuebin’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression didn’t change. He pressed, “So you finished your coursework so quickly? That’s incredible. I remember Physics is a five-year program, and it’s only been two semesters—how did you manage?”

“It’s not that unusual. I’m not the only one at Huada to finish early.”

Not that unusual?

Chen Xuebin: “.......”

“There are others at Huada who finished early?”

“Yes, in another department, not Physics.” Yuxiu slowed her pace, trailing far behind the two professors. She looked up at Chen Xuebin, her eyes vacant, and her words almost made him cough up blood. “Doesn’t the Medical School have anyone who finished early?”

Heart attack!

Chen Xuebin clutched his chest, feeling wounded.

“The knowledge in the books can be learned independently; there’s no need to stick to the professors’ schedule. If you don’t understand something, just ask. We’re the first batch to enter university, time is tight, and finishing early to help build the nation is what matters.”

Chen Xuebin’s gaze grew somber as he looked back at her. “I think so too, but sadly, I don’t have a clever mind. I can’t finish early and then study another discipline like you.”

“It’s fine. Even a slow bird can start early and fly. Work hard, and you’ll manage.” Zhong Yuxiu’s words were sharp but mild; Chen Xuebin couldn’t retort, his breath caught in his chest. “Comrade Zhong is right, I’ll do my best.”