The Three Elements of Architecture

Professor Song said that Chu Ran had classes in the afternoon and told Ye Nanzhi to look for her at four o’clock. After parting ways with her two fellow students from the same research group, Ye Nanzhi decided to find a place to look over the materials Professor Song had just given her.

Though she intended to study, she sat there for a long time without being able to process a single word.

As time ticked away, the frequency with which she checked her watch increased.

As the digits on her phone jumped one by one, Ye Nanzhi’s heart seemed to grow increasingly frantic in sync.

The ballpoint pen at her fingertips spun around, drawing perfect arcs in the air, yet she couldn’t bring herself to write down a single character.

Ye Nanzhi was truly panicking.

It felt as though heaven were playing a grand practical joke on her; the more she tried to hide, the more countless threads of connection appeared, like an invisible hand pulling her and Chu Ran together.

Chu Ran—this name, both familiar and foreign—seemed to have flooded every corner of her life since the moment she opened her eyes this morning.

At first, it had surfaced for just a shallow instant, like ripples on a calm water surface that vanished immediately after appearing.

Just as Ye Nanzhi had regained her composure and decided to seal away everything related to Chu Ran once again, the other woman had returned as if she had grown wings, flying back before her eyes in one fell swoop.

Fluttering her wings and dancing gracefully in front of her, as if terrified that Ye Nanzhi might fail to notice her.

When it came down to it, their past relationship could only be considered ambiguous at best—nothing more than some campus rumors and gossip.

After all, four years ago, Ye Nanzhi had chosen to retreat, and the other party had chosen to leave without saying goodbye. From beginning to end, neither of them had ever pierced that hazy layer of window paper. They had tacitly cooperated to extinguish this relationship in its cradle before it even had a chance to begin.

Was it just ambiguity? Yet they had done many things that crossed the boundaries of mere ambiguity.

Four years ago, the most scorching phase of Ye Nanzhi’s youth had been marked by Chu Ran’s silhouette.

Ever since Chu Ran left, Ye Nanzhi had never been that unrestrained or flamboyant again. Especially in her new environment, people’s evaluation of her had gradually shifted to a “gentle and introverted girl”; from time to time, people would even describe her as “shy.”

The word “shy” had never been associated with Ye Nanzhi before she was nineteen. Now, more than one person had slapped that label in front of her name.

Ye Nanzhi comforted herself, thinking that perhaps only after experiencing the towering waves of the ocean can one be content to stay on a calm lake.

But at this moment, she discovered that the lake beneath her was returning to the ocean, and she seemed unable to do anything except go with the flow.

On her phone, the hands of the clock drew closer and closer to four. Ye Nanzhi tried her best to reassure herself: they were simply working together on a research project. This was official business, an academic exchange, and there would be no other intersection in any other area—surely Chu Ran wouldn’t deign to have any further involvement with her anyway.

Who would be willing to let the same stone trip them twice? Moreover, this was Chu Ran. Ye Nanzhi thought.

In Building Art Gallery B309, the words “Architecture Teaching and Research Group Office” on the doorplate were very eye-catching.

A research group office shouldn’t have just one teacher. Realizing she wouldn’t be alone with Chu Ran settled Ye Nanzhi’s mind considerably. With others present, she could candidly treat this as a simple exchange between a student and a teacher.

Just as her hand reached the door to knock, the office door opened from the inside.

An older female teacher, carrying a shoulder bag, seemed to be just about to leave. She looked at Ye Nanzhi hesitantly.

–Who are you…?–

“Hello, I am looking for Teacher Chu Ran.” Ye Nanzhi behaved with modest politeness.

–Oh, Teacher Chu. Come in and wait then.–

The female teacher generously opened the office door and pointed toward a desk by the window.

–That’s Teacher Chu’s desk. Just sit here and wait.–

As she spoke, the teacher glanced down at her watch.

–Little girl, I have to catch the campus shuttle at the West Gate. Sit here and wait yourself. I won’t lock the door, but if you leave, remember to pull it shut.–

Ye Nanzhi slapped her forehead. Oh no, she had forgotten about the campus shuttle. Classes at Shen University ended at four in the afternoon, and the shuttle provided for teachers departed promptly from the West Gate at four-fifteen. If one didn’t drive, taking a taxi from the University Town back to the city was quite expensive.

Moreover, missing that window meant hitting the evening rush hour on the elevated highway; once the traffic jammed, it would be at least an hour’s wait.

“Um… that, Teacher, maybe I should come back tomorrow…” Ye Nanzhi started to retreat.

She really didn’t want to—and didn’t dare to—be alone in the same space as Chu Ran again.

Before she could finish her sentence, the office door opened again.

This time, it was that familiar figure.

After Chu Ran’s gaze swept lightly over Ye Nanzhi, she took the initiative to greet the older teacher.

–Teacher Chu, someone is looking for you!–

Seeing Chu Ran return, the older teacher felt a sense of relief.

–I’m leaving to catch the shuttle. Remember to lock the door when you leave!–

Then she hurried out of the office like a whirlwind.

The words Ye Nanzhi hadn’t finished were choked back into her throat.

Suddenly, in the small space, only the two of them remained. Ye Nanzhi stood awkwardly in place, completely forgetting her purpose for seeking out Chu Ran.

In contrast, Chu Ran’s reaction was much more peaceful. She entered, steadily closed the office door, and signaled to Ye Nanzhi.

“Sit.”

Ye Nanzhi sighed as if accepting her fate and nodded.

As Chu Ran passed by, Ye Nanzhi instinctively took a step back, deliberately maintaining a certain distance. She followed behind the other woman with a seemingly obedient air, found a chair to sit at the side of Chu Ran’s desk, and then pulled out a pen and notebook.

The air fell silent again. Ye Nanzhi felt at a loss, and the ballpoint pen at her fingertips began to spin once more. But the simplest action of her daily life failed repeatedly today. The pen dropped beside the folder. Only then did Ye Nanzhi remember the materials in her hand. She pushed the heavy folder toward Chu Ran.

“This… Professor Song gave this to me…”

“I know.” From the moment she entered to the moment she sat down, Chu Ran’s reactions were remarkably steady. She took the folder, flipped through a few pages simply, and then casually closed it and pushed it aside, as if she were already well-acquainted with the contents.

“I’ll introduce our project to you.”

Hearing this, Ye Nanzhi quickly opened her notebook and began to take notes.

“In simple terms, we are researching the impact of architectural social spaces on the behavior and educational needs of primary school students. For us, the most convenient point is that there will be an actual project to support our theoretical research. However, due to the specificity of the research subjects, we will need to conduct extensive field inspections and surveys. So, after the proposal defense, be prepared to go out for field research,” Chu Ran said.

For a scientific paper’s conclusions to have universal applicability, there must be sufficient theoretical data as support. Ye Nanzhi was mentally prepared for this.

“Many of the information in these materials is outdated and has no reference value. Tonight, I will repackage a set of materials and send them to your email. Read them for a while, and then based on our research content, draft a few titles. We will discuss them together.” Just as she finished, Chu Ran added a follow-up question. “Your email hasn’t changed, right?”

The hand Ye Nanzhi used to write paused. Her eyes lifted slightly and then quickly lowered, as if she were terrified her small movement would be discovered. She shook her head.

“No.”

Chu Ran’s tone remained at a constant level, neither happy nor unhappy, but fortunately, Ye Nanzhi didn’t detect any trace of disgust in the other woman’s voice.

That was good enough.

After receiving the answer, Chu Ran seemed to suddenly remember something. She opened a drawer beside her desk and took out a silver key.

“This is the research room the school assigned to me. The room isn’t big, but there’s a computer inside. It should be enough for you to look up information and read literature.”

Having an independent research room meant Ye Nanzhi wouldn’t have to squeeze into the library anymore; this was indeed a good thing.

Except this research room…

As if reading Ye Nanzhi’s thoughts, Chu Ran spoke up proactively.

“I usually stay in the office to prepare for classes. If there’s nothing pressing, I won’t go there much.”

Being seen through made Ye Nanzhi a little embarrassed.

“Thank you, Teacher Chu.”

She tried her best to appear steady, taking out the new dog keychain she had bought today. She reached out with both hands to take the key, wanting to hang it with her dormitory keys.

But the moment the other woman saw the dog in her hand, she suddenly retracted the hand holding the key.

“Nice keychain.”

Chu Ran’s open palm instantly curled into a fist. She commented with a slightly meaningful tone.

“It can barely be called ‘Utility.’ As for ‘Delight,’ it’s average. As for ‘Firmness’… I wonder which one would prevail in a contest with a bunny.”

“…”

In an instant, Ye Nanzhi even stopped breathing. She looked up in surprise, but quickly pretended it was nothing and averted her gaze.

“What are you looking at?” Chu Ran’s tone was still indifferent. “The three elements of architecture: Utility, Firmness, and Delight. Didn’t I teach that in this morning’s class?”