Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

At 7:15 a.m., a life-or-death struggle between humans and their beds was unfolding in dormitory 602.

Zhou Zixuan was the first to jump out of bed. He jumped off the bed shirtless and started managing his facial expressions in front of the mirror—raising his eyebrows, squinting his eyes, and giving a wicked smile, looking like he had just been possessed by a domineering CEO that morning.

"A new day, a new chance to find a partner." Zhou Zixuan encouraged himself in front of the mirror.

Chen Mo followed closely behind, silently rolling out of bed with movements as swift as if he were carrying out a secret mission. He picked up his DSLR camera and took a few test shots in the morning light outside the window, the shutter clicking away as if keeping time for this morning symphony.

"Yuan-ge, Zhuangzhuang, get up!" Zhou Zixuan flung open the curtains, letting in a deluge of sunlight. "If you don't get up now, you'll miss the freshman class meeting! Do you want to leave a bad record of being late in front of the counselor?"

From the upper bunk came Qian Zhuangzhuang's groggy voice: "Let me sleep for five more minutes... Rem is still waiting for me..."

"Does Rem know that you cheated on her in your dream? You even called out to Rena yesterday."

"That was... a strategic appreciation..."

Lin Yuan pulled the blanket over his head, his voice muffled: "Zhou Zixuan, do you know what the 'early riser rule for college students' means?"

"What?"

"As long as I don't acknowledge it when the alarm rings, time hasn't even begun to flow."

Zhou Zixuan: "..."

Ten minutes later, Lin Yuan finally sat up slowly, his hair a mess as if struck by lightning, his eyes unfocused as if he had just survived a tribulation. He glanced at his phone: 7:25.

"What's the rush?" he yawned. "The class meeting starts at eight. It's a ten-minute walk from here to the teaching building. We'll pass the cafeteria on the way, and it'll take another ten minutes to buy some steamed buns. We still have fifteen minutes of leeway."

"Hurry up and pack your things!"

"Three minutes to brush my teeth, two minutes to wash my face, one minute to get dressed, one minute to go downstairs," Lin Yuan counted on his fingers. "Seven minutes in total. I have eight minutes left to contemplate life."

Qian Zhuangzhuang peeked out from the top bunk, his face full of admiration: "Brother Yuan, with your time management skills, it's a shame you're not a producer."

"What's so great about being a producer?" Lin Yuan said lazily as he put on his T-shirt. "My goal is to be a capitalist, to have producers work for me."

Five minutes later, the four of them finally stumbled out the door.

When they passed the cafeteria, Lin Yuan took the lead and went in, and the other three were forced to follow.

There were already seven or eight people lined up in front of the window. Qian Zhuangzhuang stood on tiptoe to look ahead, then took out a small vinegar bottle from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, took a deep breath, and looked completely intoxicated.

Lin Yuan: "Zhuangzhuang, you're already seasoning it before you've even bought it?"

"This is called warming up," Qian Zhuangzhuang said solemnly. "The encounter between soup dumplings and vinegar needs a sense of ritual."

When it was their turn, Qian Zhuangzhuang ordered two baskets.

"Can you finish it?"

"I can finish it," Qian Zhuangzhuang said firmly. "I have confidence in my stomach."

Looking at the vinegar stains on Zhuangzhuang's lips, Lin Yuan sighed deeply, "Zhuangzhuang, your respect for food has surpassed your love for anime."

Qian Zhuangzhuang looked up, a trace of vinegar on his lips, his face full of piety: "Brother Yuan, you don't understand. You can't eat your two-dimensional wife, but you can eat a soup dumpling. It's better to love someone you can bite than someone you can't touch."

Why didn't you say that to your Rem sooner?

"Rem will understand me," Qian Zhuangzhuang said, taking another sip of soup. "She's a forgiving woman."

The four of them came out of the cafeteria at 7:45.

Zhou Zixuan fixed his hair as he ran: "Brother Yuan, what do you think of my look today? Will it leave a lasting impression on the girls in the performing arts department?"

Lin Yuan glanced at him: "You look like a hairdresser who just escaped from a hair salon."

"...Can you please stop being so venomous?"

"This is a professional evaluation. You're a performance major, and I'm a directing major; it's only natural for a director to evaluate an actor."

"Brother Mo, what are you filming?!" Zhou Zixuan roared.

Chen Mo remained expressionless. "Materials for the graduation yearbook later."

"You call this commemorative album material? This is clearly a social disaster!"

The four of them joked and laughed along the way, and finally arrived at the teaching building at 7:55.

Lin Yuan swallowed the last bite of the soup dumpling and clapped his hands in satisfaction.

"See, a time management master is something else. He ate his fill, made it to class, and didn't waste a single second of the class meeting."

"Are you managing your time like this?" Zhou Zixuan gasped for breath, bent over. "You're running your life away!"

Qian Zhuangzhuang looked down at the oil stains on his pants and said with a pained expression, "It was worth it."

"What's worth it?"

"The soup dumplings were worth it. Pants can be washed, but once the dumplings get cold, they're gone forever."

Lin Yuan patted him on the shoulder and said earnestly, "Zhuangzhuang, if you had shared half of your deep affection for Baozi with a girl in real life, you wouldn't be single now."

Qian Zhuangzhuang was silent for three seconds, then looked up, his gaze firm:

"Do not."

"Neither Rem nor the soup dumpling will betray me."

Lin Yuan: "...Alright, you've truly come to your senses."

When Lin Yuan pushed open the classroom door, it was already full of people.

He glanced around—the directing department had a total of eighteen students, thirteen men and five women. The back rows were already full, and there were hardly any seats left in the middle, with only the first row standing empty.

Lin Yuan walked to the first row and sat down.

A murmur rippled through the back row.

"Holy crap, who is this?"

"When did the directing department start having such good looks...?"

Lin Yuan crossed his legs, his expression unchanged, like an audience member sitting on a throne.

The classroom door was pushed open.

A young man in a minimalist white shirt walked in. He was tall and straight, with thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and a roster and training program between his fingers.

"Quiet."

The voice wasn't loud, but it had a penetrating quality.

"I am your counselor, Lu Zhou. There are three things to do today: get to know each other, elect temporary class committee members, and announce the enrollment arrangements."

He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the entire room: "Starting from the first row, please introduce yourselves."

When it was Lin Yuan's turn, he slowly got up, put his hands in his pockets, and walked to the front of the podium.

Lin Yuan is from Xuncheng.

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, a smirk playing on his lips: "Coming to study directing? Because the world needs a good story, and I want to be the storyteller."

"Also," he added, "I'm not running for class committee. I'm lazy; I even procrastinate on my own homework, let alone collecting it for the whole class. For everyone's sake, I'm voluntarily stepping down."

A low chuckle rang out.

Lu Zhou looked at him, his eyes behind his glasses narrowing slightly.

"Go down."

Lin Yuan returned to the first row.

The class committee election was quickly completed. A seemingly reliable girl became the temporary class monitor, and a boy wearing round-framed glasses became the academic representative.

Lu Zhou cleared his throat: "Enrollment arrangements."

"First, military training starts tomorrow and will last for two weeks. We'll wake up at 6:00 AM and finish at 9:00 PM."

A chorus of wails erupted from below.

"Secondly, a comprehensive assessment at the end of the first year, requiring the production of a 5-minute narrative short film, will determine whether a student can join the core mentor group in their second year."

The classroom fell silent instantly.

"Third," Lu Zhou closed the folder, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Lin Yuan, "here, everything starts from scratch."

"Don't let me down."