Ming Ying was that kind of student.
Because studying came too easily to him, high school and college were basically spent sleeping or playing games. At the height of his rebellious phase, he was even called in for parent meetings for a whole week after a fight over a basketball game. His was a big photo that simultaneously graced the honor roll and the public notice of criticism…
In summary, aside from his grades, Ming Ying didn’t look like an obedient, good student in any way. During his school days, he ranked number one on every subject teacher’s list of biggest headaches, and upon seeing him, they’d try to find ways to trim his wings. Consequently, Ming Ying went from fearing teachers like a mouse fears a cat to mastering the art of hiding from them.
Unfortunately, there was nowhere to hide now.
Ming Ying scratched his head and slowly shuffled over.
He heard Thomas laughingly say something to the man beside him again, but it was in German, and he couldn’t understand a word.
But Ming Ying keenly heard his own name. From what he could guess, Professor Thomas was probably introducing him to that man as his student?
Damn it.
Was anyone more unlucky than him? Not only had he failed to run into his sister, but he was also caught red-handed by his own damn advisor.
Just then, Ming Ying heard the man say, “What are you looking down for?”
It was in English, and the voice was surprisingly pleasant.
Ming Ying raised his head at the sound. The man standing on the staircase had one hand in his pocket, was very tall, with a relaxed posture, and seemed to be looking his way.
Because of the backlighting and his mild nearsightedness, Ming Ying couldn’t make out his face clearly. He had to frown, judging by the man’s golden hair shining under the light that this person was likely a foreigner.
Probably some professor from their school department…?
“Ming, come up.” The little old man Thomas beckoned to him, “Come on.”
“…”
Whether in Shanghai or New York, whether the other person was Chinese or foreign, Ming Ying’s aversion to being alone with a teacher was etched into his bones. Now he had to steel himself and go up.
After climbing up, Ming Ying immediately played the good student, obediently lowering his head, not even knowing who he was addressing: “Good evening, professor!”
Thomas chuckled in reply: “We were just talking about you. Since you’re at this attraction, Ming, go take a look at the design sketches on the wall.”
“…”
The previous second, Ming Ying was still thinking, ‘What were you saying about me? No, wait, why were you talking about me?’
But when he heard Thomas tell him to look at the design sketches, only one thought remained: Crap. A real class is starting.
And classes haven’t even begun yet.
Fortunately, Ming Ying was a top student and not too resistant to teachers’ spot checks. Because these were often the perfect moments to show off.
Ming Ying said, “Alright. Is this a surprise quiz?”
As soon as he finished speaking, before Thomas could reply, the man beside him laughed first.
Ming Ying instinctively looked over.
As Silas saw his gaze turn towards him, he also turned his face slightly, his light blue eyes shifting to him, his handsome, chiseled features fully revealed.
Ming Ying’s eyes widened. He was surprised to discover that the man beside Professor Thomas was none other than that “Hollywood Star” from the airport!
Ming Ying recognized him almost instantly. It was strange too; he was clearly face-blind to a terminal degree, even more so when the person was a foreigner.
Was the world really this small?
Was a random person he met at the airport actually a professor at their school?
While pondering this, Ming Ying still curved his lips into a smile at the man, then went to look at the sketches on the wall.
First, he confirmed that these drawings were not Thomas’s work, as Ming Ying had long since memorized Professor Thomas’s projects and style.
However, as he looked at them one by one, he had to admit that the person who drew these design sketches had exceptionally solid fundamentals. The strokes were delicate and fluid, comparable to his own (scratch that).
You could tell at a glance that, just like him, they had been thoroughly beaten down by various design software!
He walked on like this, unconsciously following the spiral staircase upwards, before stopping in front of one particular sketch.
This was a cross-sectional sketch of the transition zone between the building’s podium and the main tower. His gaze locked onto the connection points of the support members.
Thomas’s tone rose slightly as he asked, “Is there a problem, child? Speak up if there’s a problem.”
So Ming Ying frowned and said, “It looks nice, sure… but the showboating goes a bit too far.”
Thomas’s tone seemed even more delighted, almost coaxing: “Oh? Be specific?”
Ming Ying seemed to find his confidence and footing. Pointing at the connection point on the sketch, he said: “Right here. To pursue visual purity of the exterior facade, the main load-bearing supports are hidden behind this decorative curved surface. It’s a bold idea, and it works out fine on paper.”
He paused. “But the welding and casting requirements would be insanely high. With the slightest bit of stress deformation or thermal expansion, that pretty outer ‘skin’ would be the first to crack. It’s a classic case of slightly sacrificing some construction practicality and long-term maintenance ease for form. I think… it’s putting the cart before the horse.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the little old man smiling at him, eyes crinkled.
“…”
Ming Ying had a bad premonition.
Sure enough, the next second, the unknown professor beside him spoke up.
“Your criticism is based on a hypothesis—that structure and decoration can only be opposed.”
Ming Ying was stunned. Just as he was about to turn his head, an arm reached from behind him, pointing past him to the design sketch on the wall.
Ming Ying caught a glimpse of an exquisite platinum watch strap peeking out from the man’s black cuff.
A familiar scent drifted through the air.
In that instant, Ming Ying suddenly understood why he had recognized this foreigner!
It was the scent, a very distinctive scent. Crisp and clear like cold pine, mixed with a hint of snow—clean and unlike any cologne a foreigner would usually prefer.
Silas’s long, clean fingertips traced lightly above the sketch, landing with pinpoint accuracy. His tone was unhurried: “The ‘decorative curved surface’ you mentioned is itself an innovative high-performance composite material—a research outcome from N University’s Advanced Materials and Structures Lab. It is not merely a ‘skin’; it is a part of the structure, forming a hybrid load-bearing system together with the main support.”
“The risk of cracking originates more from the connection design between different material systems, not simply from hiding the supports. The ‘showboating’ you pointed out is precisely the key innovative point where this design concept transitions from idea to constructability.”
“So, if this were an exam, unfortunately, you scored a zero.”
“…”
Ming Ying was dumbstruck. It felt like having confidently strutted, only to be given a lesson right there in class.
He really should have known better than to show off casually outside. Now look, he’d been struck by lightning.
Thomas exclaimed, “God!” and said, “Silas, don’t be so harsh. He’s still a kid.”
Silas withdrew his hand. “Pointing out a mistake is not the same as being harsh.”
Inside Ming Ying’s mind, ten thousand mystical beasts were stampeding. He had to remember that he came back here for XI in the first place. What the hell was this pop quiz now?!
He stole another glance at the foreigner. The other party suddenly looked at him too, and Ming Ying hastily averted his gaze.
Crap, he thought, I’m memorizing this face, so I can definitely avoid it when picking electives!
“Silas, you scared my student,” Thomas said, his mustache puffing as he laughed. “The stakes are doubled. If you don’t compensate me with two bottles of wine, I won’t agree to this.”
Oh, for the love of…
So these two were using him to gamble? Completely inhumane.
Ming Ying dared to be angry but dared not speak out.
The man behind him also chuckled. “Is that so?”
But Ming Ying didn’t catch that. His mind was entirely on the name Professor Thomas had called this man.
Silas?
Or Silis?
Just then, his phone suddenly started buzzing wildly.
Ming Ying looked down. The caller ID showed Mark!
Mark was calling mainly because it was very late and Ming Ying hadn’t returned, which was very dangerous in the night of New York.
In that instant, Ming Ying declared in his heart that in this trash capitalist country, only his good roommate was a good foreigner.
Oh, and add one more: Teacher XI.
Other than them, there were no more good people!
After answering the phone, Ming Ying hurriedly made up an excuse, smiling as he tried to make his escape.
Professor Thomas clearly understood completely.
But what Ming Ying hadn’t expected was that this Professor Silas, or whatever his name was, actually offered to call a car to send him back.
Ming Ying’s eyes widened, and he immediately refused. “Thanks, but no, no need. I’ve already booked a ride myself—”
The man didn’t say anything much, just replied with an “Mn.”
Ming Ying breathed a sigh of relief. If it were Professor Thomas, he would have agreed, but this Silas was clearly no simple character. He didn’t have the fortune for that.
Watching the young man’s departing figure, Thomas smiled and looked at Silas. “It seems Mr. Aston, who never makes mistakes, misjudged this one too. I’ve told you before, a good student is not a stock, nor a vote. Not everything can be controlled by your eyes.”
Silas’s gaze moved away from Ming Ying’s retreating back, saying nothing.
When Ming Ying got out, everyone else had already left.
Luckily, this ASTON Tower was in a prime location in the Manhattan district, so finding a cab wasn’t difficult.
As soon as he got into the car, Ming Ying sent Mark a message saying he was already on his way back and not to worry.
Mark replied with an OK. Ming Ying exited the chat interface, held his forehead, and sighed.
Just then, he suddenly noticed that XI had replied to his message at some point!
Crap, with all that commotion back there, he’d completely forgotten about chatting with XI. He hurriedly opened it.
XI: Don’t always assume failure for your own designs.
A single, concise sentence. Ming Ying paused. Scrolling up, he saw it was in response to his bizarre hotpot tower comments.
Probably the only person in the whole world who would call a hotpot tower thing a “design” was her.
Ming Ying felt a warmth in his heart. Thinking of what just happened, he hugged his phone and deliberately typed in a pitiful tone.
Mingo: I’m back. I was just called away by my advisor.
Mingo: The dinner wasn’t good, and the advisor was hard to please.
Mingo: Begging Teacher XI for encouragement [Starry eyes] [Hands clasped in prayer]
