Feeling the unfamiliar bulk around her lower body, Huang Xiu subtly shifted her hips, then took a few tentative steps, moving left and right.
Only when she was certain there would be no more leaks did she finally let out a sigh of relief.
“But it feels so strange!” Huang Xiu murmured, her face flushed. She glanced down at her white underwear, now visibly thicker around her lower half.
This was her first time using such a thing, and she truly felt unaccustomed to it.
Wrapped in the sanitary pad, her skin felt not only stifled but also unpleasantly damp and sticky. Moreover, as she walked, a peculiar friction chafed between her thighs.
While the sense of being wrapped was manageable, the constant chafing distorted her gait, making her steps feel unnatural.
‘I recall there’s also something called a tampon; perhaps that would feel better,’ Huang Xiu mused. She couldn’t pinpoint where she’d heard of it, but the memory of such a device lingered.
Retrieving her phone, she searched for it, and then froze, dumbfounded.
“This thing actually… actually… goes inside!” Huang Xiu exclaimed, her face a mask of utter shock, as if her worldview had shattered.
‘Inserting that… wouldn’t that be incredibly uncomfortable?’
“Forget it!” She shook her head decisively. Between a tampon and a sanitary pad, she preferred to endure the chafing between her thighs.
She used a wet wipe to clean the bloodstains that had spread onto her inner thighs.
Then, Huang Xiu hand-washed her soiled pajama bottoms and underwear, before tiptoeing out the door with them.
Fortunately, it was past three in the morning; the world was silent, and Ying Zhiyu and her other roommate were deep in slumber.
This allowed Huang Xiu to successfully hang both the underwear and pajama bottoms on the balcony without disturbing anyone.
To avoid any suspicion from her roommates, she deliberately placed them to dry amidst her other clothes. After nearly an hour of careful maneuvering, she had finally managed to erase all traces.
Returning to her room, her face etched with exhaustion, Huang Xiu suddenly let out a wry chuckle.
“Good heavens, I truly feel like a murderer meticulously cleaning up a crime scene!”
An 8 AM class was the bane of every fragile university student’s existence. However, for Huang Xiu and her fellow freshmen, barely a month out of high school, it wasn’t a significant hurdle.
After all, during high school’s morning readings, they were up by seven at the latest. Here, they could sleep until at least 7:10 AM, or even 7:30 AM if they skipped breakfast.
Yet, with Tiandu University’s abundant dining options, Huang Xiu naturally wouldn’t miss a single meal.
This morning, however, she hadn’t woken up on her own; her two roommates had literally dragged her from her bed.
Last night had been plagued by restless dreams and a sudden fright, leaving her sleep quality abysmal.
Upon waking, stray hairs stood out wildly, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.
“Sister Xiu, are you feeling unwell?” In the right corner of the cafeteria, Ying Zhiyu finally voiced the worry that had gnawed at her since morning, seeing Huang Xiu’s troubled expression and pale face.
She had never seen Sister Xiu in such a poor state.
“No, haha, I’m fine.” Huang Xiu forced a smile, her right hand unconsciously stirring the porridge in her bowl with her spoon.
“How can you be fine when you’re eating so little?” her roommate remarked, gesturing towards Huang Xiu’s tray.
Previously, Huang Xiu would devour at least five large meat buns, a bowl of noodle soup, and three eggs for breakfast. Today, she had only managed two meat buns and a bowl of porridge.
“If you’re not feeling well, just take the day off,” Jia Qianrou echoed, nodding in agreement.
“No! I can’t take a leave!” Huang Xiu shook her head emphatically.
Taking a leave was an unthinkable taboo! She was a woman determined to secure a full scholarship; how could she be defeated by a mere menstrual period?
Besides, it happened once a month—was she expected to take a day off every single month? ‘What a joke!’
A minor abdominal cramp? She, Huang Xiu, would overcome it with the robust willpower she once possessed as a man! Another wave of spasmodic pain seized her abdomen.
“Guh!” Huang Xiu exhaled, her small face instantly falling as her head slumped weakly onto the table. Her right hand compulsively rubbed her stomach, as if seeking some small measure of relief.
‘This is truly agonizing!’
“Ah Xiu, are you… on your period?” Jia Qianrou observed Huang Xiu’s movements, narrowing her eyes. It was clear something was amiss.
“What ‘that’?” Huang Xiu feigned ignorance. “No, I’m not!”
“Drink more hot water,” Jia Qianrou advised. “If it’s really bad, take some ibuprofen. The Tiandu University infirmary should be able to provide it.”
Jia Qianrou sighed. ‘This roommate of mine truly loves to act tough.’ It was a trait utterly unlike a demure girl, more akin to a young boy overly concerned with saving face.
With Huang Xiu stubbornly refusing to admit it, Jia Qianrou could do nothing more. After breakfast, the three parted ways; Huang Xiu and Ying Zhiyu were in the same class, while Jia Qianrou was in Class Three.
Huang Xiu checked her timetable again, confirming her class would be held in Ducheng Tower, Room 108.
“The building names at Tiandu University are so strange!” Ying Zhiyu suddenly remarked as they walked towards their classroom.
“How so?” Huang Xiu replied weakly, still plagued by her stomach ache.
“Well, for instance,” Ying Zhiyu began, counting on her fair fingers, “the assembly hall for the freshman orientation was called Yanghai Hall. Yanghai is the provincial capital of Yunshang Province. And today, the teaching building we’re heading to is Ducheng Tower, but Ducheng is the provincial capital of Shanchuan Province.”
“Even the Tiandu Pavilion, where our afternoon class is, follows the pattern,” she continued. “It seems Tiandu University’s buildings are all named after various provincial capitals.”
As Huang Xiu listened, she realized this was indeed true; she had once been curious about the name Yanghai Hall herself.
“It really does seem that way.” She nodded.
A flicker of interest sparked within her, momentarily distracting her from the persistent ache in her abdomen.
“Do you think Tiandu University actually has thirty-four buildings, each named after a provincial capital?”
“Hmm…” Ying Zhiyu placed her right index finger to her lips, pondering for a moment. Then, tilting her head, she replied uncertainly, “Perhaps?”
“Hiss.” Seeing Ying Zhiyu’s charming demeanor, Huang Xiu gasped inwardly. ‘What powerful, natural cuteness!’
After a slight mental readjustment, she continued, “We’d know for sure if there was a school map.”
For some unknown reason, neither the Void Web’s official website nor the campus itself provided a comprehensive map.
Instead, only individual signs, stuck by the roadside, pasted on the ground, or hung from lampposts, offered directional guidance to buildings.
It was almost laughable; on their second day here, when Huang Xiu and her roommates had ventured out to explore the campus, they had promptly gotten lost.
“Even though we’re now Tiandu students, it feels like the school still holds many hidden secrets, none of which have been revealed to us,” Huang Xiu remarked, shaking her head with a sigh.
Mystery—that was her first impression of Tiandu University, and it remained her strongest feeling to this day.
However, with four years of university ahead, she was confident that any secrets the school held would eventually come to light.
Exiting the cafeteria, Huang Xiu followed the directional signs for nearly ten minutes before turning right onto a street.
In the distance, nestled among the trees, a five-story teaching building emerged into view.
Its stark white exterior walls were almost entirely covered by dark green ivy, giving the building a unique hue.
The roof featured an arched, spherical design, adorned with colorful, translucent glazed tiles and large skylight windows. From afar, it resembled a magnificent palace.
In the early morning light, filtering through the surrounding trees, it shimmered with a dazzling, almost hypnotic array of colors.