Chapter 11: The Arrangement

“I was planning to stay a few more days, but since you’re so eager for me to leave, I’ll head out the day after tomorrow.”

“Won’t you be back around the New Year then?” Deng Yalong said, though she was just teasing—of course she was happy her son was home.

“Something like that.” His mother’s reaction was just as he expected: always complaining while he was home, yet reluctant to see him go. But once he made up his mind, he didn’t change it.

“I’ll go buy some groceries, cook you some good food these next couple of days. You probably won’t be used to the food in Hangzhou.” Saying that, Deng Yalong went out to shop.

During those last two days before he left, Zhou Yun enjoyed rich meals every day, feeling like the month of dieting had been for nothing.

At the high-speed rail station.

“I’m off!” Zhou Yun waved to his parents with his backpack on.

“Take good care of yourself.”

“Got it!” He waved them off, signaling them to head back.

Since he had already shipped most of his luggage the day before, he only carried a single bag.

An hour later, Zhou Yun arrived in Hangzhou.

As he neared the university, he sent a message to Deng Yonghua.

[Teacher, I’ve arrived.]

The reply came almost instantly.

[Wait for me at the south gate; I’ll take you to where you’re staying.]

Because the new students’ information hadn’t been processed yet, Zhou Yun couldn’t stay in the dormitories and had to live off-campus.

Deng Yonghua advanced the rent money, which could later be reimbursed from the project funds—he still had plenty left.

[Okay.]

Just outside the campus gate, Zhou Yun saw Deng Yonghua standing by a car.

“Teacher.”

“You’re here? Get in, I’ll take you to your place.”

Once inside the car, Deng Yonghua drove while chatting, “The apartment is right next to the school. I rented it for you. You brought your bedding and everything, right?”

“Everything’s with me. Thanks, Teacher.”

“Of course. You can’t come here without a place to stay.”

Deng Yonghua was usually very approachable, giving off a friendly vibe.

“Teacher, I’ve almost finished the first draft of my thesis. Should I send it to you later?”

“No rush. You just arrived—rest for a day or two. We can talk about the thesis once you’re settled.”

“Alright.”

Throughout the ride, Deng Yonghua asked questions like where he was from and if it was his first time in Hangzhou.

“We’re here. Let’s go up.”

After opening the door, Deng Yonghua handed Zhou Yun the keys.

“Well, I won’t disturb you then. I have a meeting this afternoon. No hurry about the thesis; it’s fine to relax a bit first.”

“Thank you, Teacher.”

“Alright, I’m off.”

Watching Deng Yonghua leave, Zhou Yun felt for the first time that not all supervisors were harsh—some were genuinely kind.

Closing the door behind him, he took in the apartment: a bathroom, a small living room, a bedroom, and a tiny kitchenette—typical for a single’s rental.

Though small, Zhou Yun had no particular demands; as long as there was a bed and internet, he was content.

After receiving his packages and tidying up, it was already nine at night.

He showered, watched some videos for a while, then went to sleep.

The next morning at Qiantang University, in the Information Building.

Outside the office door.

“Zhou Yun, didn’t I tell you to rest for two days before coming to school? Why are you here already?” Deng Yonghua approached with a backpack, smiling.

“No worries, Teacher. There’s not much to do nearby anyway. Might as well come early to the lab.”

“Wait for me a moment. I’ll take you to the lab first.”

Deng Yonghua put his bag down and led Zhou Yun toward the lab.

“You’re here about the thesis, right? Send it to me first; I’ll take a look. Then we can talk this afternoon. But first, pick your workspace.”

“Okay.”

Upon entering the lab, everyone noticed Deng Yonghua had brought a student along.

“This is your junior, Zhou Yun.” He glanced around and spotted Qiu Yan wearing headphones.

“Qiu Yan, help our junior find a seat and take care of the necessary arrangements.”

Qiu Yan took off his headphones and nodded quickly, “No problem.”

“Also, tidy up a few spots for future juniors who’ll join later,” Deng Yonghua instructed before leaving.

Zhou Yun took the chance to send his saved thesis draft to Deng Yonghua.

“Junior Zhou Yun,” Qiu Yan waved, “these seats are empty, and those over there belong to third-year grads. If you want one, you can move their stuff.”

He pointed to several vacant spots.

At a glance, Zhou Yun chose a corner seat by the window, right next to Qiu Yan.

“Do you have your student cards yet?”

“Not yet,” Zhou Yun shook his head.

“Then you can’t register your fingerprint now. You can borrow mine to enter the lab for now.”

“Thanks, senior.”

“No problem. Let me introduce myself: I’m Qiu Yan. This is Shen Rui—you must have met them during the interview; it was just the two of us.”

“That over there is Yu Tianrui, and this is Wang Jiayue. They’re both second-year grads. Most of the third-years have already left or gone for internships, so you’ll probably only meet them again at their farewell dinner.”

“As for computers, there aren’t any extras right now. I’ll ask the teacher later to see what can be arranged.” Qiu Yan was very enthusiastic in helping Zhou Yun get settled.

Once Zhou Yun sat down, Qiu Yan returned to his own desk.

The lab quieted down as everyone got busy with their work.

Zhou Yun logged onto the server to check on the last few experiments. Though the thesis draft was nearly done, some supplementary tests still needed running.

Qiu Yan glanced over curiously and asked, “Are you running experiments directly on the server?”

“Yes, a few supplementary ones. Once they’re done, that should be it.”

“Impressive!” Qiu Yan gave a thumbs-up with genuine admiration.

After all, who starts publishing papers before even officially enrolling? And all independently done.

“But does our lab have a server? Did you rent it yourself?”

“No, Teacher Deng gave it to me. I don’t know where it came from.”

Qiu Yan’s mouth dropped open. “What? Our group even has a server? I never heard of that.”

He had been renting servers himself and had to wait a month for reimbursements. How did Zhou Yun already have one?

Still skeptical, he asked, “What specs does your server have?”

“Eight H100 GPUs.”

Snap.

Zhou Yun felt as if he’d just heard his heart break.

Qiu Yan silently turned back to his screen, saying nothing more.

They were all students under the same teacher—why such a huge gap?