Negative Electrode Material Chapter 10

The Back Row of the Classroom

Chapter 10: The Back Row of the Classroom

By mid-May, the weather already carried a hint of summer. It was hot under the sun, but a lingering chill remained in the shadows.

During their weekly online meetings, three faces consistently appeared on the screen: Lin Yi, Young Mr. Gao, and Li Qi.

Gao Huan usually kept his microphone muted, serving as nothing more than a quiet background figure in the frame. At first, Lin Yi didn’t pay him much mind, focusing his communication on requirements and progress with Li Qi.

To his surprise, though the young master was a layman, he would occasionally chime in at critical junctures:

Have you tried a lower-cost version of the experimental conditions for comparison?

Isn’t this variable a bit too idealized?

Lin Yi was already incredibly busy, and hearing these extra questions often sparked a secret sense of resistance. However, he was long accustomed to dealing with dim-witted students of all levels. His patience had been well-forged over the years, and he usually explained things to the young master with a calm composure.

That week, just as Lin Yi was about to click the meeting link, a soft knock suddenly sounded at his office door. Seeing there was only a minute left before the meeting, Lin Yi called out hurriedly, Please come in, but I am about to…

The door pushed open, and Gao Huan stood there, his presence even more striking than in his memory. He wasn’t carrying anything, looking as if he had just strolled over on a whim.

Lin Yi was stunned. …Isn’t this an online meeting?

Gao Huan acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Li Qi took sick leave this morning, so I decided to come in person. His tone was flat, devoid of any extra expression, as if physical displacement was the most logical alternative.

Lin Yi took off his headset, unable to stop himself from cursing inwardly: Is this young master really that bored? On the surface, however, he remained polite. Actually, online would have been sufficient. You didn’t need to make the trip, Gao Huan.

It is fine. Gao Huan sat down across from him with ease, folding his hands on the desk like a studious pupil. I am actually quite interested in your research itself, Professor Lin. Would it be alright if I sat in on your lecture?

Yep, he is definitely just bored, Lin Yi cursed again in his head. Maintaining a calm exterior, he asked, Oh? What is your major?

Economics. With a minor in Philosophy. Gao Huan’s large eyes sparkled as he looked at Lin Yi.

Lin Yi nearly burst out laughing, forcing a cough to cover it up.

Philosophy? What on earth? Philosophy?

His internal monologue was racing: Can this guy even understand a chemical formula?

Oh, then it doesn’t seem like a very good fit. More importantly, people from outside the university aren’t allowed to just audit classes.

Gao Huan didn’t say anything more and began going over the usual meeting agenda with Lin Yi.

The following morning, Lin Yi hurried from his office, a thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead. As soon as he placed his lecture notes on the podium, he spotted a tall figure sitting in the very last row.

Gao Huan.

He was leaning forward slightly, elbows propped on the desk, with a notebook spread out in front of him and a pen held in his hand, looking for all the world like he was truly there to listen and take notes.

Lin Yi’s heart sank. He immediately understood—this young master had likely sought special approval from the president just to sit there so boldly.

Whispers soon rippled through the classroom. Who is that handsome guy? He is not from our department, is he? With looks like that, I bet he is not even from our school.

Lin Yi had no choice but to pretend he hadn’t seen him. He flipped open his notes, his voice steady as usual. Let us continue from where we left off last class…

Gao Huan didn’t say a word. His gaze was focused, occasionally jotting a few notes down with a thoughtful expression, though most of the time he just stared blankly at Lin Yi. An hour and a half later, the bell rang, and Lin Yi finished exactly what he had prepared. The students stood up and began filing out of the classroom in small groups.

The student in the back row tucked his notebook into a simple cloth bag, slung it over one shoulder, and strode up to the podium. Lin Yi had intended to make a quick exit, but he was a step too slow.

Professor Lin, Gao Huan said, his tone steady but carrying an undeniable seriousness. Let me treat you to lunch. A chorus of low oohs immediately erupted in the classroom, followed by a few suppressed giggles.

Lin Yi’s expression tightened. His reflexive response was to refuse. No need, thank you, Young— Halfway through, he noticed several students pricking up their ears. He forced himself to swallow the words Young Mr. Gao and simply pivoted. I usually just grab a quick bite at the cafeteria. I have to get back to the lab this afternoon.

Then you should treat me to a meal. I have never been to a cafeteria. The moment the words left Gao Huan’s mouth, even he seemed a bit stunned. Laughter exploded around them, with some students unable to stop themselves from covering their mouths.

Lin Yi took a sharp breath, gritting his teeth as he managed a Fine. He grabbed his lecture notes and walked out quickly. The sound of footsteps followed close behind him, sounding incredibly light and cheerful.