After leaving Yang Xu’s office, Jiang He headed back to the academic building.

The song playing from the school’s broadcast station today was Eason Chan’s "Under Mount Fuji."

♫: "The rain blocking our path is more like snow, are you cold as you weep? This windbreaker I’ve worn for you is frayed and thin..."

♫: "We all only have two hands; an embrace is not enough to possess you. To possess, one must first understand how to accept loss..."

In his previous life, Teacher Shen loved to listen to this song whenever they fought and talked about breaking up.

She would cry her eyes out under the covers, then convince herself she had grown stronger and resolve never to make up with him again.

Only to be instantly won over by a roasted sweet potato.

Lost in thought, Jiang He couldn’t help but smile gently, his eyes then filling with nostalgia.

’Teacher Shen, everything is going smoothly on my end. How are things on your side?’

’Are you cold? Do you have warm clothes to wear? Are you eating healthy? Are your studies going well? How’s your mood been? Is your allowance enough? Have you fought with your roommates? Are you tired? Do you have a stomachache?’

He just kept thinking about her.

Jiang He returned to the lecture hall.

Chen Hao turned his head and asked, "What did Professor Yang want to see you for?"

"We talked a bit about the research project," Jiang He said.

Chen Hao just said, "Oh," and didn’t ask anything else.

It was mainly because he wouldn’t have understood the answer anyway.

He was keenly aware that a lamentable, thick barrier now separated his academic abilities from Jiang He’s.

On the lecture platform, Professor Zhao, who taught Diagnostics, was operating a projector that had seen better days.

"We just discussed the electrocardiogram characteristics of an acute myocardial infarction."

The professor posed a question. "Now look at the chart on the screen. A 50-year-old male, admitted to the hospital with a sudden, severe onset of chest pain. Look at this chart, give me your diagnosis, and provide the basis for your differentiation."

The classroom fell silent instantly.

This was typical for medical students.

When it came to interpreting scans and ECGs, no one would ever volunteer unless they were called on by name.

Professor Zhao waited for half a minute. When no one spoke up, he chided them,

"No one’s talking? Aren’t you all usually so good at reciting the mnemonics? The second you face a practical clinical scenario, you all go silent?"

"Forget it. Jiang He, you tell everyone the correct answer," Professor Zhao said.

The entire class turned in perfect unison, their attention fixed on the expert.

Jiang He pulled his chair back, stood up, and after a brief glance at the electrocardiogram, said,

"Acute extensive anterior myocardial infarction. The ST segment in leads V1 to V5 shows convex-upward elevation, accompanied by the formation of pathological Q waves. This is a typical infarction pattern."

Professor Zhao pressed further. "And what if it’s acute pericarditis? Pericarditis can also cause widespread ST-segment elevation. On what grounds do you rule it out?"

Jiang He answered calmly, "You look at the reciprocal leads. On this chart, the inferior leads—II, III, and aVF—show ST-segment depression. This is a reciprocal change caused by the anterior infarction. The ST-segment elevation in acute pericarditis is diffuse. Furthermore, the ST elevation in pericarditis is typically concave-upward, while this chart shows a convex-upward pattern. Therefore, we can rule out pericarditis and confirm it’s an MI."

As soon as he finished speaking, many students lowered their heads and started scribbling furiously in their notebooks.

Professor Zhao looked at Jiang He, his stern expression finally softening. He nodded in appreciation and motioned for him to sit.

"That was very precise. Reciprocal changes are the key to differentiating between an MI and pericarditis. Many people overlook this point, even when they’re interns on the clinical floor."

Professor Zhao turned, picked up a piece of chalk, and began writing a few key terms on the blackboard as he spoke.

"This question was beyond the scope of the curriculum; I didn’t expect any of you to answer it fully. Jiang He, that was excellent. Your fundamentals are very solid. You truly earned your first-place title in the Thinking Competition. It was well-deserved. When you all study, you should also learn to develop this kind of clinical mindset that links concepts together. Don’t just memorize by rote."

The professor’s praise wasn’t over-the-top, just simple recognition and approval for a good student.

But that was more than enough.

From the front row, Zhou Yang said, "That’s not right. No need to praise him. This is just a basic operation for Jiang He."

Lin Yue nodded. "Definitely."

Under the desk, Chen Hao nudged Jiang He with his elbow. His face was a mixture of basking in reflected glory and an expression that clearly said, ’Damn, you smooth bastard, you got to show off again...’

Jiang He pretended not to notice. He opened his notebook and continued to map out the workflow for his work in the archives during the National Day holiday.

The two class periods passed quickly.

Jiang He packed up his things and left with Chen Hao.

Just as they reached the hallway, he saw Cheng Xiyao.

She was wearing a simple, light blue blouse today, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She held a thick copy of Neuroanatomy in her arms and was leaning against a windowsill in the hallway.

When she saw Jiang He emerge, she straightened up.

There were plenty of students coming and going in the hallway. Upon seeing the department belle standing there, many of them subconsciously slowed their pace.

A few guys exchanged glances, but no one dared to linger or start any commotion. They just stole a few extra looks out of the corners of their eyes before walking away in twos and threes toward the stairwell.

They were all adults, after all. Stealing a couple of extra glances was instinctual; actually causing a scene would just be classless.

Chen Hao immediately understood the situation.

He glanced at Cheng Xiyao, then at Jiang He, and said without a moment’s hesitation,

"Old Jiang, uh... I’m gonna head to the cafeteria to grab our food and save a table. Try not to take too long, alright?"

After saying his piece, Chen Hao gave Cheng Xiyao a polite nod and immediately disappeared into the crowd heading down the stairs.

Jiang He shook his head, walked over, and stopped about two paces away from her. "Looking for me?" he asked.

Cheng Xiyao nodded, her tone natural. "I came to congratulate you. First place with a perfect score. You were really hiding your skills. When you turned in your exam after only forty minutes yesterday, I thought you had given up."

"Thanks," Jiang He nodded. "The questions just happened to cover topics I’d reviewed. I got lucky."

Cheng Xiyao opened her copy of Neuroanatomy to a dog-eared page and held it out to Jiang He.

"I mentioned the other day that I had a few questions for you. Do you have time now? I’m not keeping you from lunch, am I?" she asked.

"Go ahead."

"It’s about the extrapyramidal system. The book says damage to the nigrostriatal pathway causes Parkinson’s disease, but I can’t quite grasp the check-and-balance mechanism between dopamine and acetylcholine here. Why do you need to use anticholinergic drugs while also supplementing dopamine?"

It was a question concerning physiological mechanisms, one that easily confused third-year students.

Jiang He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket.

"Don’t look at that diagram. It’s too complicated and obscures the core principle..."

After briefly explaining the principle, he said,

"So the logic for treatment is simple: you either supplement with levodopa, or you use anticholinergic drugs. Using them together is simply to level the tilted scales again."

Cheng Xiyao looked at the simple seesaw diagram he had drawn, and her knitted brow instantly smoothed.

The complex conduction pathway that had been troubling her all night was made perfectly clear in just a few sentences.

"Oh, so that’s how it is..." She nodded lightly. "The textbook goes on and on about receptors and feedback loops but never clearly explains their antagonistic relationship."

She closed the book and looked up at Jiang He, her eyes filled with admiration. "Jiang He, you’re incredible. I don’t think even the professor explained it that clearly in class."

"You’ll get it once you’ve seen more clinical cases," Jiang He said, tucking the pen back into his pocket.

The two of them stood in the hallway discussing the topic, with no unnecessary physical contact whatsoever.

The way Cheng Xiyao looked at Jiang He was purely with the respect a student has for a teacher who has enlightened them.

And Jiang He’s attitude while explaining was strictly business-like—simple and efficient.

With the question answered, Jiang He was ready to head to lunch.

"Oh, right," Cheng Xiyao suddenly stopped him. "Yesterday, outside the examination hall, you said that you and Chen Hao are staying at school to do research during the National Day holiday? Is that true?"