Everything is going smoothly, everything as wished.
When Zhou You first started attending classes at the beginning of the semester, there wasn’t much change. But now, the atmosphere in class is noticeably different.
The way the students look at him has shifted too; many of them carry a hint of respect in their eyes.
They’re all eighteen or nineteen, still young and easily moved. They only knew that Teacher Zhou was witty and humorous in his lectures, but they never expected he also had a compassionate heart.
For Zhou You, though, things are still the same.
Roll call.
That’s the only fun part of class, and if it were taken away, how dull would that be?
Even though hardly anyone skips class now, and those with issues always ask for leave in advance, the proper procedures can’t be skipped.
“First period, I’ll call the boys’ names, and pick one girl as the representative. Second period, I’ll call the girls’ names, and pick one boy as the representative.” Zhou You had truly found a way to make roll call entertaining.
Hearing this, the students burst into laughter.
“Teacher, no need to call roll, everyone’s here.”
“Teacher, let me do the roll call,” a boy volunteered eagerly.
“Teacher, the counselor already told us. Can you talk about the donation process?” a student asked.
The surrounding students fell silent at this question—it was what they were most curious about.
Zhou You knew someone would ask, and he’d have to address it eventually.
“Classmates, I come from a rural background too, with an average family. After graduating, I happened to make a bit of money.”
“Back when I was in school, I lived frugally. I thought then that if I ever had money, I’d definitely help more people, at least get them through their four years of college.”
As he said this, the students started clapping, and some stood up as they clapped, until the whole class was on their feet.
Zhou You was a bit moved, feeling their sincere hearts, but he gestured with both hands for them to sit down quickly.
“Don’t make too much noise, or students from other classes will find out, and it’ll make things awkward for other majors. This is purely my personal wish, just keep it among yourselves.”
“Don’t feel pressured either. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves. Don’t waste your college years or your youth.”
Zhou You noticed a few students’ eyes were red—these were the first batch of aid recipients this year.
Originally, according to the advisor’s plan, starting with this cohort, sophomores, juniors, and seniors wouldn’t be included.
But at Zhou You’s strong suggestion, the entire Library Science department was covered by this aid program.
So for now, Zhou You’s reputation within the major had risen further. If there were a likability meter, every student’s score would be at least 60.
After the first period ended during the break, Zhou You was surrounded by a crowd.
“Teacher, thank you. My family’s situation is average, not particularly tough, so we don’t qualify for national grants. I never expected to get support from our own major,” a boy said.
“It’s nothing. Study hard, and later take the civil service or graduate exams—that’s a path forward. It’ll lighten the burden on your family a bit. Parents have it hard, so don’t waste the money.” Zhou You didn’t say much, just a simple reminder.
As the donor, the moment he gave, his inner kindness had already been released.
As for how the recipients used the money, he only offered advice—to spend it wisely—but not every student could be frugal. Even if they could now, there would always be those who splurged later.
Besides, Zhou You’s money was pure aid, with no repayment required.
A few students dressed more plainly also gathered around Zhou You to express their thanks.
Zhou You couldn’t help but say, “Don’t be too frugal either. Buy a few sets of everyday clothes. Back in the day, I wore the same ones until they were almost threadbare, haha.”
The students laughed heartily, not bothered by Zhou You’s self-deprecating story, taking it as kind reassurance.
A curious girl nearby asked, “Teacher, did you date in college?”
This caught Zhou You a bit off guard, and the surrounding students crowded in, eager to hear about his romantic history.
In their eyes, Teacher Zhou wasn’t bad-looking, tall, and witty—he must have had plenty of relationships.
“Ahem, sorry to disappoint you all. Back then, I was poor and insecure, and I was stingy too. Not many were interested in me.”
The students didn’t believe it: “Teacher, even if you didn’t chase others, someone must have chased you, right?”
Zhou You saw he couldn’t brush this off without saying something, so he thought for a moment and said, “There were some who pursued me, but I was too insecure back then, felt I wasn’t good enough for them, so it fizzled out.”
Too bad the song “Young and Successful” hadn’t come out yet—if that background music played, the imagery would hit hard.
Combined with his current standing among the students, it would probably have half the class in tears.
Even so, the students let out sighs of regret, feeling that Zhou You’s image had grown even more impressive.
Without realizing it, he’d gained a wave of fans.
After class, Zhou You left.
The scholarship matter would fade over time. Zhou You only did it to fulfill his own dream, not to earn gratitude or reverence.
He wouldn’t use it to demand repayment, turning it into a transaction or emotional manipulation—or worse, a barter of interests.
But those long-forgotten memories started flooding back into his mind.
Back then, he was struggling and poor, and he was glad he hadn’t led anyone on in their youth.
Later, he realized that was just his own wishful thinking, self-consolation. Matters of the heart sometimes defy logic.
Especially when young, no one thinks about the future—money, status, or family background.
He had been bound by traditional values.
The girls he rejected left disappointed, some not even knowing why, thinking Zhou You looked down on them.
Unknowingly, he had hurt so many hearts.
*Cherish not your gold-threaded robe,* *Cherish rather your youthful prime.* *If the flower blooms, pluck it now,* *Lest you wait in vain for the branch.*
Young and successful—Zhou You couldn’t hold back his tears when he heard that song at the Spring Festival Gala on New Year’s Eve.
*If I were young and successful, not insecure,* *Knowing what’s precious,* *Those dreams* *I didn’t give you—I’ll regret it for life.*
*If I were young and successful, knowing when to advance or retreat,* *I wouldn’t let you suffer in my place.*
*If I were young and successful, not insecure,* *Having tasted regret,* *Money and status* *I’ve earned, yet I want to give them back.*
Forget it, don’t dwell on it. Let the past go with the wind. If fate allows, we’ll talk again.
Now, Zhou You could be considered young and successful, so he couldn’t repeat the mistakes of his school days.
He had to cherish feelings and not let down the goodwill of so many people.
Take Ina, for example—she came from afar to teach him a foreign language. What a stroke of fate that was?
*Fate brings people together from a thousand miles away; without it, they pass by without meeting.*
Zhou You pulled a whole case of vodka from the trunk, all pure Russian imports.
To ease Ina’s homesickness!