My hometown is far away in Moscow.

Chapter 98 Hu Yue

As one of the most senior professors at the Friendship University, Sergei had his own private office in the main building. His exams were not conducted in the classroom, but rather students were invited to his office one by one for face-to-face questioning.

The first one to go in was an outstanding Israeli girl. She stayed inside for several minutes, and when she came out, everyone surrounded her and asked her a barrage of questions.

"The question itself wasn't too difficult," the Israeli girl replied calmly. "The content involved was all covered in class, but the professor asked us to explain it according to our own understanding, and there might be questions and discussions along the way."

Following them were several other Chinese students from the same class. Their academic levels varied, and when they came out, some looked relaxed and talked fluently, while others frowned and sighed deeply, making it clear at a glance how poor their grades were.

Other students followed suit, and the line outside thinned out. The North African girl finished her exam and came out, smiling at Hu Yi and Wu Ga, who were the only two remaining outside: "Next."

Hu Yi nudged Wu Ga: "It's your turn."

"No, I'll wait until the end." Wuga nervously walked behind Hu Yi. "You go in first."

Hu Yi chuckled softly, controlled his nervousness, tidied his appearance, and knocked on the door before entering: "Hello."

"Hello." Sergei turned his head with a smile as he sat at the table, then paused for a moment. "Uh—is there something you need? I'm taking an exam right now, please come back later."

Hu Yi felt slightly embarrassed and quickly walked to the other side of the desk: "I'm here to take the exam too."

"You?" Sergei adjusted his glasses. "A first-year language major?"

"Yes." Hu Yi forced a smile, his expression apologetic. "I am also your student."

Sergei rubbed his forehead, thought for a moment, and reached for the roster: "Oh, I seem to remember you, aren't you that gentleman who's obsessed with miracles? What's your name?"

"Yes, yes, that's right." Hu Yi leaned over and pointed to his name on the roster, showing it to the professor: "This is me."

"This? This Hu—is that you?"

"My Russian name is Anton, do you remember? It's the same as Chekhov's name."

"Yes, I remember now." Sergei took off his glasses and gently rubbed his face. "However, to be honest, I don't think you should have passed the exam."

Hu Yi was stunned for a moment, and after confirming that he hadn't misheard, he asked in astonishment, "Why?"

"You should know very well," Sergei shrugged. "You rarely come to class; I'd almost forgotten about you. How could I let you pass? You haven't studied at all."

"No, you're not entirely right," Hu Yi argued, his face slightly flushed. "Although I couldn't attend class sometimes, I still studied your lessons on my own."

Sergei stared intently at him: "Is that so? Then tell me, what did you learn in my course?"

"Mainly—well—the relationship between language development and changes and historical processes, social changes, and cultural customs."

"Please explain your understanding of this issue in detail."

"Well—" Hu Yi had just given Sergei a vague answer, thinking he was being clever, intending to adapt to his follow-up questions. However, the old professor had thrown the question back at him verbatim, leaving Hu Yi momentarily speechless. He stammered, "Well, well—it's complicated and requires specific examples to explain—"

"Yes, please."

Hu Yi's mind raced, but he couldn't recall any of the specific content the professor had covered in class. He could only stammer and scratch his head repeatedly: "Um—specific examples—let me think—"

"Fail!" Sergei opened Hu Yi's report card and was about to write down his score without hesitation.

"Wait! Please wait a moment!" Hu Yi shouted repeatedly, then suddenly saw his name on the report card and a flash of inspiration struck him: "I've got it!"

"Please speak." Sergei remained motionless, still holding his pen.

"My name," Hu Yi pointed to the report card, "is a very bad swear word in Russian, isn't it?"

Sergei took a deep breath: "I must apologize for what I said next—but it is true, your name is very bad."

"You see, this is a misunderstanding caused by differences between cultures." Hu Yi quickly organized his thoughts: "My name is very auspicious in Chinese."

"Perhaps." Sergei looked up at Hu Yi. "But this should be considered a difference between different languages, a very common phenomenon, and has little to do with history, culture, or customs."

"Yes," Hu Yi quickly corrected himself, "What I meant was that my name itself profoundly reflects Chinese culture and customs. And—it also involves some—exchanges and understandings between China and Russia."

"Hmm?" Sergei asked, still somewhat skeptical. "Tell me about it."

Hu Yi cleared his throat forcefully: "My surname is Hu. In ancient China, this character referred to the north—specifically, to some nomadic peoples who rode horses on the northern grasslands. It was also used to represent anything foreign or of foreign origin. For example, 'Hu people,' 'pepper,' and 'carrot' all have the character 'Hu' in their names, indicating that these were all things introduced from abroad."

"Oh!" Sergei straightened up and put the pen back in its cap. "Your surname is Hu. Does that mean your ancestors also came to China from another country?"

"Well—" Hu Yi had never considered this question before, so he had no choice but to answer honestly, "I don't know. Perhaps some of them really are from northern nomadic horse-riding tribes."

Sergei seemed slightly interested: "You just mentioned the exchange of understanding between China and Russia, could you explain that?"

"Yes. In Russian, the pronunciation of the word 'China' is very similar to the Chinese word 'Khitan,' probably because ancient Russians first learned about China through the Khitan people, and thus began using this word to refer to China."

"It seems some linguists have indeed proposed this theory, but I haven't verified it in detail." Sergei nodded slowly. "Does this have anything to do with your name?"

"It's very relevant!" Hu Yi explained seriously, "At that time, the Khitan were considered 'Hu' by China. Therefore, 'Hu' were foreign countries to China, while to Russia, well, you could consider them part of China!"

"Wait a moment, let me think." Sergei frowned in confusion. "You mean, 'Hu' can refer to both China and a foreign country?"

"That's right, and not only that, could you please lend me some paper and pen?" Hu Yi picked up a pen and wrote a large "Hu" character on the paper, then casually made up, "The left side of this character is 'ancient,' used to describe time; the right side is 'moon,' and the moon is in the sky, so it can be seen as a—well—spatial concept."

The old professor stared intently at the words on the paper: "Ancient? Moon? Time? Space?"

"That's right!" Hu Yi tapped the table with his middle finger knuckle: "Look at this character 'Hu,' it shows signs of age..."

It encompasses a vast expanse of space, it can be China, it can be foreign countries, a single word encapsulates ancient and modern times, China and the world, heaven and earth, isn't that a bit—a bit—”

He had been talking non-stop for a while, but suddenly ran out of words. Sergei didn't seem to mind, and instead frowned and wondered to himself, "How can a single word contain such a rich meaning?"

"Of course!" Hu Yi thought to himself with a surge of pride. He didn't give the old professor time to ponder, and continued, "Actually, it's nothing special. My name, 'Yi,' is—hehe, a much more powerful and meaningful Chinese character!"

>