Chen Zikun spent a full three days to get out of the role of Julian, and for the first two nights, when he went to sleep, his mind kept replaying that beautiful and romantic scene at the Tianjin dock, the ship in the night, Miss Yao's tear-stained face, and that earth-shaking kiss.

  Every time this happens, Chen Zikun would smack his lips and savor the wonderful taste, then sigh: "Heroes can't get past beautiful women."

  One time when he was savoring something, Xing Er saw him and curiously asked him, "What delicious thing did you eat? Why do you always smack your lips?" On the spot, Chen Zi Kun's face turned bright red.

  Miss Yao gave a big roll of colorful banknotes, not only with Chinese currency, but also with British pounds and US dollars. One pound could be exchanged for seven and a half yuan, and one dollar could be exchanged for three yuan. These currencies added up to at least 300 or 400 yuan. Chen Zikun asked Xiao Shunzi to go to the HSBC and Citibank to exchange the foreign currency into Chinese yuan, and also bought three more cars and some household items. The scale of the Zi Guang Car Factory was getting bigger and bigger.

  As for those accessories, he carefully collected them, looking forward to the day when they could be returned to their rightful owner.

  Xiao Shunzi said that Miss Yao had been appearing at the Liuguo Restaurant for several days, and Chen Zikun couldn't help but worry about her a little. But then he thought to himself, she's the daughter of the Deputy Minister of Transportation, what problem can't be solved? Does she still need someone like him, a low-ranking laborer, to worry about it?

  Time passed day by day, and every day Chen Zikun would go to Lin's residence on Shi Ma Street to wait for Lin Wenjing, but he never waited for her. Since the Lantern Festival party, Miss Lin had not left the house, studying diligently at home. Chen Zikun didn't know that after the last incident, Mrs. Lin reported it to Mr. Lin, who scolded his daughter severely and punished her by not allowing her to leave the house for the entire winter break.

  Despite this, Chen Zikong still made it a point to go to the alley entrance every day and wait quietly for a while. Mr. Lin and Mrs. Lin were busy with various social engagements and mahjong games from morning till night, so they naturally didn't know about his presence. However, Zhang Bo, the gatekeeper, was always on high alert, gripping his large broom at the ready to chase this suspicious rickshaw driver away at any moment.

  After waiting for another whole morning, Chen Zikun reluctantly pulled the rickshaw and was about to leave when he suddenly heard someone shouting "Rickshaw" from behind.

  Turning back, it was Director Li of Peking University Library.

  Li Dazhao also recognized Chen Zikun and smiled warmly: "Is that little Chen? Are you just back or going out?"

  "Mr. Li, I'm no longer pulling carts at Lin's mansion."

  "Oh, what now?"

  "Pulling cars at the train depot."

  Li Dazhao seemed quite interested, lifted his leg and got on the car, continuing to chat with Chen Zikun, asking him how much money he had to hand over to the cart factory every month, how much he could keep for himself, and whether it was enough to eat. Chen Zikun had exchanged many experiences with fellow cart pullers in the streets and alleys these days, so he said: "Pulling carts is just a way to make ends meet, take advantage of your youth to earn more, don't look at how fast you're running now, who knows when you'll fall on the road and be done for."

  Li Dazhao sighed and said, "Pulling a rickshaw doesn't require capital or skills. Farmers who have lost their land and bankrupt city dwellers all do this work. There are too many people competing for too little food, how can you make any money? How about this: every day during working hours, come to the entrance of the alley to pull me, and after work, go to Beida to pick me up. I'll pay you a monthly salary. What do you think?"

  "Mr. Li is a good man, so let's just say that's settled," said Chen Zikun. "I'll pick you up and drop you off on time. If I'm running late, I'll get a friend to replace me."

  Li Dazhao smiled and nodded slightly.

  As they walked and chatted, they unknowingly arrived at a house. Li Dazhao got out of the car and said: "You wait for me here."

  "Alright, we'll wait for you." Chen Zikun put the rickshaw by the wall to avoid the wind and sat down to rest.

  After a moment, another rickshaw came, with a Western-clad passenger on board. He paid the fare and hastily entered the door. Chen Zongyou recognized him - it was none other than Chen Duxiu, Dean of Humanities at Peking University.

  "Whose mansion is this?" Chen Zikong looked up at the gate and saw a wooden sign with two words: Cai's residence.

  Half an hour later, Li Dazhao and Chen Duxiu came out with a look of indignation on their faces, followed by an old man in a long gown and a horse jacket, who was none other than the president of Peking University, Mr. Cai Yuanpei.

  Chen Zikun hastily stood up, wiped the car seat with a towel, and waited for Mr. Li to get on the car. Cai Yuanpei and Li Chen whispered to each other: "This is a telegram from Liang Qichao in Paris, personally handed over by Lin Changmin. You must spread it quickly and let all students know about the meeting..."

  He suddenly saw Chen Zikun and smiled: "This comrade, we meet again."

  Li Dazhao said: "Does Principal Cai know him?"

  Cai Yuanpei said, "Of course I know him, he's a student of Liu Shipei and Gu Hongming. However, both teachers have opinions about you, saying that you often play truant, with serious absenteeism."

  Chen Zikun scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed.

  Li Dazhao answered on his behalf: "Missing two hours of work every day is a huge loss for a cart driver, and it can't be made up by learning a few more characters."

  Tsai Yuan-pei nodded in deep agreement and sighed: "Shou Chang's research on the livelihood problems of the working class is indeed thorough."

  A cold wind blew in, and Cai Yuanpei smiled: "If there's something important, we can talk about it tomorrow. I won't see you off far."

  Chen Duxiu and Li Dazhao got on the rickshaw, Chen Ziqian pulled it out with big strides. Cai Yuanpei stood at the gate to see them off, watching Chen Ziqian bend down to pull the rickshaw, a sense of familiarity suddenly flashed in his mind.

  ……

  Arriving at the Red Building of Peking University, Chen and Li got off the car. Li Dazhao said: "Let's come in and take a break before leaving."

  Chen Duxiu readily agreed, and as the two entered the Red Building, although it was winter break, there were still many students lingering in school to study. Several students chatting in the corridor saw Chen Duxiu and Li Dazhao come in and immediately shouted: "Fellow students, the latest news from Paris has arrived!"

  Chen and Li quickly entered the library, surrounded by students who eagerly discussed current events. Chen Zikun squatted beside the radiator, taking out two steamed buns from his pocket to warm them up on the radiator. He heard words like "President Wilson" and "Fourteen Points" coming from the crowd, and the university students were excitedly chattering away, as if they had been injected with chicken blood.

  Suddenly a familiar figure came into view, Assistant Mao was standing on the ladder, using a feather duster to sweep away dust from the bookshelves. His long shirt had several patches, with coarse stitching, apparently sewn by himself.

  Mao's assistant climbed down the ladder, and Chen Zikun called out: "Old Mao, have you eaten?"

  "I've eaten." replied Assistant Mao, but his stomach suddenly growled loudly. He couldn't help but smile awkwardly and said: "I ate in the morning, now I'm hungry again."

  Chen Zikun handed him a steamed bun: "Take it."

  Mao's assistant hesitated for a moment, took the towel and said thank you, picked up his own large ceramic jug, filled it with hot water and handed it to Chen Zikun: "Drink some warm water."

  Two men crouched by the heater eating steamed buns and drinking boiled water, Chen Zikun said: "Mao brother, why don't you discuss current events with them?"

  Mao's assistant shook his head and said, "Different paths don't make for good allies, there's nothing much to talk about with them."

  "What were they talking about?"

  Assistant said, "They were discussing the Paris Conference. Little Chen, I'll ask you a question. In a forest, there's a group of wolves and tigers that prey on small animals. One day, a new lion arrived and said, 'I won't eat small animals, and I'll even help protect you.'"

  Before he could finish speaking, Chen Zikun curled his lip and said: "The lion is deceiving them, how can it survive without eating small animals? Does it eat vegetarian food?"

  Mao's assistant smiled and said, "Right, even you understand this principle, but these Beida students don't. They're pinning their hopes on that new lion who just arrived. Isn't it laughable? What's there to discuss with people like them?"

  Chen Zikun stretched out his thumb in admiration: "Old Mao, I'm impressed."

  Mao's assistant smiled and shook his head, lowering his head to eat a steamed bun.

  "I say, you should find a wife too, look at your poor sewing skills." Chen Zikun changed the subject, pointing to the crooked patches on Assistant Mao's cotton-padded jacket.

  Mao's assistant smiled again, rubbing the patches, and a happy blush appeared on his face. Ah, how would Chen Gongyou know that these patches were made by Kaihui?

  "I'm leaving Beijing next month," said Assistant Mao.

  "Why is it that your work isn't going well?" Chen Zikun asked.

  "Although it's only eight bucks a month, for a single person like me who eats alone and doesn't starve the whole family, I feel that Beijing is no longer suitable for my development. I want to go back to Hunan and start a new life on the banks of the Xiangjiang River."

  Mao's assistant's eyes shone with a deep light, and he clenched his fists lightly.

  "Hurry up and eat, it's getting cold." Chen Zikun was drinking hot water and biting into a steamed bun, unaware of Assistant Mao's grand ambitions.

  After a short rest, Chen Zikun shook off his fatigue and bid farewell to Mao's assistant. As he was about to leave in the rickshaw, he saw Xu Er crouching in the corner of the wall, scribbling with a pen nib on a small notebook, with a pair of glasses perched on his face, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be just an empty frame without lenses.

  Chen Zikong quietly walked over, snatched the small notebook from Xu Er's hand, and read out loud: "Cats catch mice, dogs guard doors, people without careers are no better than cats and dogs. I want to sleep with Cui Lian... Haha, Xu Er, who is Cui Lian?"

  Xu Er's face turned bright red, he rushed over to grab the small notebook from Chen Zi-kun's hand. He was short and couldn't reach it even when jumping up, so he shouted loudly: "Chen, return my notebook!"

  Chen Zikong burst out laughing, teasing him enough before tossing the book back and pulling the rickshaw away with a flourish. However, he was secretly shocked in his heart - this little Xu Er actually knew so many characters, it seemed he had to work harder to catch up.

  He made up his mind and immediately ran to Liu Shipei's house. Professor Liu, seeing that he had not visited for so long, was slightly displeased and asked him: "Have you finished reading 'Lectures on the History of Medieval Chinese Literature' that I gave you?"

  Chen Zikun hasn't touched his books these days, but lied and said: "I've finished reading."

  Liu Shipei had been teaching for many years, how could he not see that he was lying? He coughed a few times and coldly said: "Alright, I'll give you an exam paper. If you can answer 30% of the questions correctly, I'll believe you. If not, don't come next time."

  After finishing, he took a test paper to test him. Chen Zikong glanced at it and couldn't help but take a breath of cold air. He recognized all the Chinese characters on this, but when combined together, they were completely incomprehensible. After scratching his ears and cheeks for half a day, suddenly, there was a flash of inspiration, and the answers to these questions seemed to be stored in his mind as if they had been pre-stored. His pen moved like a god, brushing brushingly filling out the test paper, even completing the last composition on the back.

  Liu Shipei took the test paper and looked at it, secretly marveling, saying: "This is a Shanghai private middle school Chinese graduation exam question, you actually answered them all, and wrote such a beautiful article, it seems that your memory has recovered."