PCJ – Chapter 608 Pressure from Roommates

Zhang Jiaohua and Ji Jiaxin were standing with a few others near the entrance of the cinema, chatting. Suddenly, a young man dressed like a street punk tried to force his way into the cinema from their side. Instead of taking the main entrance, he deliberately tried to squeeze through the group.

“Out of the way, mutts!” one of the men barked and even reached out to push Zhang Jiaohua aside, while the others headed straight toward Ji Jiaxin, Xu Xiaoting, and Xu Xiaoting’s female classmate, clearly trying to shove past them.

“Ah!” Ji Jiaxin barely had time to cry out in alarm before the man was about to slam into her.

Xu Xiaoting and her friend also gasped.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Several loud bangs rang out in quick succession, and the men were suddenly sent flying before they could even touch anyone. Zhang Jiaohua had kicked them away in an instant. No one even saw how he moved. Afterward, he stood exactly where he was, unchanged in posture. It was as if he hadn’t moved at all.

Ji Jiaxin and the others went from fear to shock. Mouths agape, they stared at Zhang Jiaohua. Although they didn’t fully grasp what had happened, they vaguely saw him make a slight move.

The attackers rolled across the ground, their clothes torn to shreds, skin scraped and bleeding. Crimson blood seeped from the wounds, dyeing their rags a deep red.

But the injuries were precisely controlled—not fatal, perhaps a few broken bones and surface wounds. With a few months in the hospital, they’d be back on their feet.

“Oww!”

“It hurts like hell!”

“Murder! Call the police!”

Despite their vicious appearance, these men were all cowards. No man of true grit would stoop to such thuggish behavior.

“You’re dead, kid!” one of the less injured men snarled at Zhang Jiaohua. But instead of attacking, he pretended to be badly hurt and pulled out his phone to call reinforcements.

Zhang Jiaohua also took out his phone and made a call. “I’m at the cinema near campus. A few thugs showed up, now they’re all lying on the ground. Come deal with it. One of them’s making a call for backup, so maybe don’t come alone.”

“Zhang Jiaohua, they’re calling for more people. Maybe we should just skip the movie,” Xu Xiaoting said, concerned.

“No worries. Zeng Lei is coming to handle it,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

Xu Xiaoting and Ji Jiaxin both knew who Zeng Lei was and what he did, so they dropped the subject.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

They had only just entered the theater when a large group of men arrived outside.

“Boss, you’re finally here! We got beaten up by some punk. He hit so hard—my leg’s broken! I’m dying!” The men lying on the ground looked at the newcomers as if they were saviors.

“Anyone here still able to move? If you can, come with me and drag that brat out of there,” barked the leader, a scruffy, muscular man with a fierce face—clearly not a man to mess with.

“Liu Biao, maybe I’ll take you inside instead,” came a calm voice. Zeng Lei approached with a few officers in tow.

Liu Biao froze. He had dealt with Zeng Lei many times and had been thrown in by him more than once. Though his connections always got him out quickly, he still feared Zeng Lei deep down.

“Director Zeng, is watching a movie a crime now?” Liu Biao said calmly.

“Watching a movie isn’t a crime, but gathering a crowd to cause trouble is. What are you planning to do, showing up with this many people?” Zeng Lei replied with a sneer.

“It’s a company outing—our security firm is just here to see a movie. That’s not illegal, is it?” Liu Biao countered.

“Since when do moviegoers carry weapons?” Zeng Lei shot back, his sharp eyes spotting someone in the group with a restricted knife.

Liu Biao glared at the man. He hadn’t expected to run into Zeng Lei today. Looking down at his injured men, he suddenly realized that this probably wasn’t a coincidence. These idiots had clearly caused some serious trouble.

“Director Zeng, this was my fault for not keeping them in line. I’ll fire him immediately. Can you let this slide for now? I’ll personally apologize to your friend,” Liu Biao said.

Zeng Lei smirked. “You’d better hope you can get out of this one like before. Take them away! Anyone who resists, deal with them on the spot!”

Liu Biao was about to protest but then noticed Zeng Lei’s officers were all armed. His expression changed. These troublemakers had obviously messed with someone serious.

“Director Zeng, this is all a misunderstanding. I was just passing by. I have nothing to do with those idiots!” Liu Biao gave in.

“That’s not for you to decide. If you’ve got the guts, resist and see what happens,” Zeng Lei said. In the past, he couldn’t touch Liu Biao, but times had changed. With his promotion and backing from the Meishan Sect, Zeng Lei wasn’t the same as before. Since Liu Biao had walked right into his sights, Zeng Lei was more than happy to use him as an example.

By the time Zhang Jiaohua and the girls came out of the cinema, the troublemakers were long gone. He still insisted on walking each of the girls home, just to be safe, before returning to campus himself.

Zhang Jiaohua wasn’t oblivious—he could sense what Ji Jiaxin and Xu Xiaoting felt for him. But he didn’t return their romantic feelings. He felt that his fated partner hadn’t arrived yet. Love, after all, depended on a certain feeling—what he had for the two girls was a warm fondness, but not the kind that stirred his soul. Maybe it just hadn’t reached that stage yet. He used to laugh at Mei Qing for not rejecting Zhu Wenwu decisively, but wasn’t he doing the same? Even though he knew the girls liked him more than just as friends, he hadn’t made things clear. Perhaps deep down, he didn’t want to hurt them.

Back at the dorm, Xia Hui, Ma Zhenyuan, and Luo Huaping were chatting.

“Zhang Jiaohua, you’re a rare sight! Do you even remember you live here? Every night, we don’t know when you come back. And in the morning, you’re gone again. It’s a miracle to see a live Zhang Jiaohua like today!” Xia Hui exclaimed.

“I haven’t seen a live Xia Hui in a while either,” Zhang Jiaohua chuckled.

Ma Zhenyuan groaned, “You’re the youngest in the dorm, but you study the hardest. You even inspired the others to get serious. What about me, huh? I came to college to enjoy life, not suffer like this. The pressure’s killing me!”

Luo Huaping laughed. “Don’t lie, Old Ma. I’ve seen you in the library plenty. Didn’t you even ask a professor to let you into a lab? How’d that go?”

Ma Zhenyuan shook his head. “I’m not a freak like Zhang Jiaohua. Professor Kong was fine, but the PhD student didn’t take me seriously. Zhang, can you talk to Professor Huang for us? Let us join your team.”

“Talk to Professor Mei instead. My project is moving slowly right now, but hers might be better for you. Just be aware you’ll be doing grunt work at first. Whether you get to do experiments depends on your performance,” Zhang said.

“No problem! As long as we can join group discussions. I heard seminars are where you really learn—the cutting-edge stuff you won’t find in textbooks,” Xia Hui said excitedly.

“Yeah, I’d clean the women’s restroom if it meant I could join,” Ma Zhenyuan joked.

“Get lost! Keep dreaming,” Luo Huaping laughed.

A good dorm atmosphere matters. A dorm full of studious students encourages progress. But one troublemaker can drag the whole group down. Freshmen face many temptations, and it’s easy to lose sight of their original goals.

Most students enter college full of ambition. They were top students in their schools, hoping to become elite members of society. But after four years of distractions, how many still pursue their original dreams?

Meeting Zhang Jiaohua might have been the greatest fortune for Xia Hui, Ma Zhenyuan, and Luo Huaping. His brilliance shook them deeply, spurring their motivation.

The next day, Zhang Jiaohua visited Professor Huang Zhongfang’s office to discuss it.

Huang agreed instantly—he was thrilled at the idea of having more students like Zhang.

Mei Qing, as their class advisor, had no reason to refuse. Ma Nanli was also eager to mentor newbies. Lately, even Zhang Jiaohua—a freshman—had been guiding him. Finally having a few newbies gave him a sense of superiority.

“My project’s at a crucial stage, and the workload is intense. If I get help, we might finish faster. You know, this isn’t just my topic—labs abroad are working on it too. If we’re slow, they’ll publish first,” Ma Nanli said.

“My project isn’t moving much right now. Why don’t the three of you start with Ma Nanli?” Mei Qing asked.

“But Professor Mei, you’re our advisor. We’re more familiar with you. We’re just worried we’ll slow down Senior Ma,” Xia Hui said.

Ma Zhenyuan and Luo Huaping nodded.

Ma Nanli laughed awkwardly, “Don’t think I don’t know—you all want to stay in Professor Mei’s group!”

“Alright then, start by familiarizing yourselves with the lab. For now, you’ll be prepping materials—you’re not ready to handle real experiments. Once your skills improve, you’ll participate in more. For now, review the project outlines. Just remember—no taking lab documents outside, and don’t discuss project progress with outsiders,” Mei Qing warned.

Her tone was serious, and the three boys nodded. They weren’t clueless, and they understood.

When they saw Zhang Jiaohua’s research topic, they were stunned. Not only had he joined a lab in his freshman year, but he was independently conducting research on a global-level scientific challenge.

“Zhang Jiaohua, this is too much. How are we supposed to catch up to you?” Ma Zhenyuan muttered.

“Don’t chase me—I’m straight. Ask Xia Hui and Luo Huaping instead,” Zhang joked.

“We’re straight too! If I weren’t, would I still be begging to join Professor Mei’s group?” Ma Zhenyuan blurted out.

Right then, Mei Qing walked in. “What does that have to do with me?”

Ma Zhenyuan froze. The others burst out laughing, struggling to hold it in.

The three boys began their busy lab lives. Zhang Jiaohua continued his research solo. Phase three of his experiment showed some progress—but still ended in failure.

Looking at the nearly formed embryo, Zhang Jiaohua shook his head. The key wasn’t the physical development—it was that no soul had formed.