Chapter 28: Hosting a Dinner

In the late winter of 2007, a biting wind swept up fine, powdery snowflakes that tapped gently against the windows of the campus. Li Yifei leaned against the dormitory window, gazing at the silver-clad landscape outside, his breath forming delicate patterns of frost on the glass.

Time was like water slipping through one's fingers; no matter how tightly one tried to hold it, it drifted away. The events of this semester unfolded in his mind like a colorful, sprawling tapestry. When Li Yifei first arrived on campus, his eyes were full of anticipation for the future, yet tinged with a hint of bewilderment. Only upon entering the systematic halls of professional study did he truly grasp the vast difference between academic rigor and self-directed learning.

In the economics lecture hall, Professor Lu Guocai used detailed case studies and cutting-edge theories to dissect the laws of macroeconomic operations with clarity and depth. In the law department, Professor Zong transformed dry statutes into vivid legal practice through the rigorous debate and deduction of classic cases. Meanwhile, in the traditional Chinese medicine classroom, Professor Xia held up herbal specimens, explaining pharmacology while demonstrating pulse diagnosis, weaving a narrative of medical wisdom passed down for millennia.

After class, the boundless academic resources of the library, the tense yet orderly atmosphere of the laboratories, and the spirited intellectual collisions with his peers allowed Li Yifei’s mind to absorb knowledge like a sponge. Armed with an eidetic memory and a dedication that kept him in the library and lab until late every night, his academic progress was like an arrow released from the string, leaving his peers far behind.

The three professors, each with a distinct teaching style, gradually began to focus their attention on this extraordinary student. When Professor Lu Guocai graded Li Yifei’s "Regional Economic Development Report," he discovered that the student had not only accurately applied econometric models but had also innovatively proposed an industrial upgrade plan that integrated local cultural characteristics. In the mock courtroom, Professor Zong watched as Li Yifei analyzed complex cases with meticulous precision, from the logic of evidentiary chains to the citation of legal articles. During herb identification experiments, Professor Xia was astonished to find that Li Yifei could distinguish over twenty easily confused medicinal materials based solely on their scent and texture.

They gradually realized that this young man possessed not only a near-obsessive thirst for knowledge but also the ability to synthesize thinking across different disciplines. He used economic models to analyze the allocation of medical resources and legal logic to untangle the dilemmas of traditional Chinese medicine patent protection, weaving seemingly disparate knowledge into a brand-new cognitive network.

When the final grades were released, Li Yifei stood out, ranking in the top three of his grade in all three majors: Economics, Law, and Traditional Chinese Medicine.

This news struck the faculty office like a thunderclap. Professor Lu Guocai checked the transcript repeatedly, adjusting his glasses as he sighed, "In my twenty years of teaching, I have seen students take minors in other fields, but to reach the pinnacle in three such vastly different areas simultaneously—it is simply an educational miracle!"

Professor Zong flipped through Li Yifei’s collection of papers, unable to resist showing his colleagues, "Look at this piece, 'Research on the Legal Protection of Intellectual Property in Traditional Chinese Medicine.' It applies the core knowledge of all three disciplines with seamless naturalness." Professor Xia, holding the manuscript Li Yifei had compiled titled "Economic Analysis of Integrated Traditional Chinese and Western Medicine," shook his head repeatedly, "This does not look like the work of a freshman at all; it is clearly the prototype of research from a mature scholar."

The three professors jointly submitted a special report to the university regarding Li Yifei’s academic situation. Dean Yi convened the Academic Committee for an emergency session, ultimately proposing an unprecedented curriculum: allowing Li Yifei to complete his bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees in four years, culminating in a doctoral thesis defense upon graduation.

The chairman of the Academic Committee emphasized during the meeting: "This is both an exceptional cultivation of a genius and a test of academic rigor—if he does not reach a doctoral standard in four years, he will still be treated as a regular undergraduate graduate." This decision hung over him like a beacon; it illuminated the path to the academic summit, yet it served as a constant reminder of the thorns that lay ahead.

On the day before the winter break, Li Yifei dressed in a crisp, ironed navy blue sweater and knocked on the doors of the three professors’ offices, carrying carefully prepared gifts.

When he pushed open the door to Professor Lu Guocai’s office, he was met with the rich aroma of tea and walls lined with economics texts. "Professor Lu, the econometric methods you taught me opened up a new world of data analysis for me." Li Yifei presented a hand-copied collection of classic regional economics cases, the flyleaf densely annotated with his own reflections. In Professor Zong’s office, which was piled high with files, Li Yifei respectfully presented his compilation, "A Collection of Judicial Precedents in Traditional Chinese Medicine over the Last Decade," saying, "Thank you for teaching me how to use legal thinking to safeguard traditional culture." Finally, at Professor Xia’s laboratory, where the scent of herbs lingered, he offered a volume of "Microscopic Atlas of Common Medicinal Herbs" bound in the ancient style: "Professor Xia, the 'look, listen, ask, and touch' methods you taught me allowed me to truly touch the soul of Chinese medicine." The three professors touched these heartfelt gifts, their eyes glistening with gratification as they repeatedly urged him to remain humble and steady on his academic path.

By dusk, Li Yifei arrived two hours early at the "Xinglin Yashe" restaurant. This Chinese courtyard-style establishment featured winding paths, rockeries, and flowing water; inside the private room hung bamboo scrolls of the *Yellow Emperor’s Inner Canon* and decorative paintings of gavels, subtly blending elements of his three fields of study. He carefully arranged celadon vases on the table, inserting *Dendrobium* and lavender—the former a medicinal herb favored by Professor Xia, the latter an herb for calming the spirit mentioned by Professor Zong. On a card, he wrote in elegant calligraphy: "Grateful for your guidance, thankful for your company."

As familiar footsteps approached, twenty-one senior students arrived one after another. The law student recognized the calligraphy on the card as that of the *Tang Code Commentaries* and exclaimed in surprise, "Yifei, you even remember this!" The economics senior was drawn to the *Dendrobium*: "This is top-quality herb; where did you source it?" The senior from the traditional Chinese medicine program touched the bamboo scroll decorations and laughed, "With us gathered here from three different majors, this feels like an interdisciplinary academic salon."

After several rounds of drinks, Li Yifei stood up, his voice trembling slightly: "If not for all of you helping me borrow out-of-print classics, showing me how to use lab instruments, and accompanying me through mock court debates over the past six months, I never could have made it to today."

He finished his glass in one go. Zhang Yunsheng, a doctoral student in law, was the first to respond, the red wine in his glass reflecting his determined face: "Little Junior Brother, I plan to take the exam for the Procuratorate. The legal articles I have studied all these years are for the sake of standing at the prosecution bench, ensuring that justice is never absent." Senior sister Wang from economics pushed up her glasses: "I want to enter investment banking, using data analysis to open up financing channels for real-economy enterprises." Senior brother Zhao from the traditional Chinese medicine program set down his glass, showing photos on his phone of free clinics in mountain areas: "After graduation, I’m going to a primary hospital to bring affordable Chinese medicine to the places that need it most."

The snow outside the window grew heavier, yet the discussion inside grew warmer. Li Yifei gazed at these faces—some impassioned, some calm—and suddenly realized that this gathering was not just a connection of friendship, but a relay of ideals. He quietly touched the notebook in his pocket, where he had already mapped out his future plans: to use economics to build a model for the traditional Chinese medicine industry, to use law to perfect the protection system for traditional medicine, and to use academic power to help ancient wisdom find new life.

As he left, Professor Xia’s protégé handed him a bag of homemade herbal tea to ward off the cold; Professor Zong’s student passed him the latest compilation of judicial interpretations; and Professor Lu Guocai’s top student shared an exclusive industry analysis database.

Li Yifei walked into the wind and snow, clutching these heavy "gifts" as the streetlights cast a long shadow behind him. He knew that what awaited him was not only the doctoral defense in four years, but a ladder of progress forged from a wealth of knowledge.