Chapter 22: The Anime Club

Monday morning arrived in a swift, clean rush.

Ji Xu’s alarm had to ring three times before it successfully extracted him from under his blanket.

When he opened his eyes and fumbled to press off the alarm, Yuan Hanfei in the opposite bed was already fully dressed.

Stepping barefoot onto the icy floor, Ji Xu shivered, checking the time on his phone—7:10 AM, with the first class starting at 8:00 AM, leaving plenty of time to spare.

The two of them finished their quick morning routine, changed their clothes, and stepped out the door, walking one after the other down the morning camphor tree avenue as morning sunlight scattered in fragments through the gaps in the leaves.

The Second Canteen was the closest dining hall to Dorm Building No. 7, currently experiencing peak breakfast hours with short, dense queues queuing up in front of the counters.

Ji Xu ordered a bowl of wontons and two small steamed buns, while Yuan Hanfei carried a bowl of soy milk and fried dough sticks; they found a window seat to sit facing each other.

Outside the window, a few sparrows pecked for food on the lawn, people were jogging on the distant sports field, and light morning music drifted from the loudspeakers.

Ji Xu lowered his head to take a sip of wonton soup, letting out a hot gasp, prompting Yuan Hanfei to pull out a paper towel and hand it to him.

After finishing breakfast, the two split up at the canteen entrance.

The Humanities Department building was on the south side of the East Campus—a gray five-story building with two rows of osmanthus trees planted at the entrance that, despite not being bloom season yet, possessed leaves of a shiny, oily green.

Ji Xu walked up to the third floor along the hallway, where the fixed classroom for English Class 1 was located at the very end, bearing a plaque at the door that read “English Literature Major Class 1.”

When he pushed open the door and entered, only seven or eight people were sitting in the classroom with most of the front-row seats still vacant, and at a single glance, he spotted He Lu sitting in the third row by the window.

He Lu saw him too, waving his hand vigorously as the meat bun in his hand swung along with his movements.

Ji Xu walked over and sat down beside him, setting his backpack on the desk and turning his head to look at the half-eaten meat bun in He Lu’s hand: “He Lu, you came so early.”

“I brought breakfast to eat in the classroom, so I arrived early.” He Lu stuffed the remaining half of the bun into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, pulled a cup of soy milk out from the desk drawer, and took a sip: “How about you, did you eat?”

“I had wontons at the canteen.” Ji Xu pulled his textbooks out from his bag and arranged them on the desk as the classroom gradually filled up, with students entering in groups of two or three chatting away—some yawning, others resting their heads on the desks with eyes closed.

He Lu folded the finished bun wrapper nicely, stuffed it into the trash bag in his desk drawer, turned around, and chatted with Ji Xu for a bit about their arrangements over the past two days after military training ended.

Ji Xu mentioned he went to stay at a friend’s place for a day over the weekend and returned on Monday for class.

He Lu shared that he spent two days playing games in his dorm, rubbing calluses onto his fingertips.

As the two chatted away, the class bell rang, and the teacher walked in through the front door—a middle-aged Beta wearing silver-rimmed glasses who spoke in a gentle yet rapid tone, delivering a clean, concise opening before flipping open the lecture notes.

On Thursday evening, Ji Xu was doing homework in the dorm when his phone screen lit up.

Rong Du’s chat box floated up from the message list; tapping it open, he saw a brief message: “Ah Xu, are you coming back this weekend? I stuffed the fridge with groceries, and I also bought those ribs you said you wanted to eat last time.”

Ji Xu stared at that line of text, his fingers pausing for a moment.

He could picture Rong Du’s expression while typing this sentence—likely standing in front of the supermarket freezer holding his phone, hesitating for a while before typing out these words.

Rong Du rarely took the initiative to send messages asking if he would return over the weekend; he always waited quietly until Ji Xu happened to have free time, wanted to head back, and brought it up himself, only then replying with a “Good, I’ll go buy groceries.”

This time, he took the initiative to ask.

Thinking about his plans for Saturday, Ji Xu typed a line back with some guilt: “The club recruitment is on Saturday and I want to go check it out, so I won’t be heading to your place.”

After sending the message, the chat box remained quiet for a long while.

Ji Xu watched the “Typing…” prompt at the top of the screen appear and disappear, disappear and reappear, back and forth several times, until finally only a single word popped up: “Okay.”

That “Okay” lay quietly on the screen—no punctuation mark, no emoji, devoid of any extra emotional vocabulary.

Yet Ji Xu read something out of that single word—Rong Du was likely disappointed; he had prepared ribs and plenty of groceries, perhaps even planned out what to cook for him over the weekend, but he didn’t voice it out, merely returning an “Okay.”

Ji Xu stared at that “Okay” for a few seconds, his thumb twitching with the urge to send another reply like “I should be free on Sunday” or “I’ll definitely come back next week,” but the other side of the screen had already gone quiet with Rong Du sending no further messages.

Ji Xu put his phone down, picked it up again, and ultimately replied with nothing, placing his phone face down on the desk to continue his homework.

On Friday evening, both roommates were in the dorm.

Yuan Hanfei leaned against his chair scrolling through his phone, while Ji Xu sat at his desk flipping through the club recruitment brochure, its colorful pages printed with various club names and introductions.

Ji Xu turned his head and leaned over toward Yuan Hanfei: “Yuan Hanfei, are there any clubs you want to join?”

Yuan Hanfei raised his eyes from his phone screen and thought for a moment: “Probably the Debate Club, I was on the debate team in high school.” He tilted his head to look at Ji Xu, “How about you, what club do you want to join?”

Ji Xu shook his head: “I don’t know, I’ll check things out first before deciding.”

He flipped the brochure over by a page where a line of artistic font read “Shangnan University Anime Club Recruitment!”, decorated with a few chibi anime characters alongside small text that said “See you at the East Campus Sports Field on Saturday.”

Ji Xu’s gaze lingered on that page for two extra seconds before he flipped past it.

On Saturday morning, the recruitment activities on the sports field officially commenced at nine o’clock, but by 8:30 AM, the East Campus Sports Field was already as bustling as a festival.

Colorful tents and sunshades were pitched on the lawn, every stall displayed display boards and posters, and upperclassmen wearing diverse custom T-shirts and mascot costumes traversed through the crowd distributing flyers and brochures.

Dynamic music played from the sound system, someone was holding a microphone introducing their club, and not far away, mascots dressed as bears and rabbits were chasing each other around.

The entire sports field was filled with an aura of youth and enthusiasm; Ji Xu followed Yuan Hanfei in from the entrance, strolling side by side between the stalls.

Yuan Hanfei stopped in front of the Debate Club’s recruitment spot.

The Debate Club’s stall was set up very formally—a dark blue display board was printed with photos of award wins and trophies from past competitions, printed sign-up forms and interview instructions were placed on the desk, and several upperclassmen dressed in formal suits were introducing club activities to inquiring students with serious enthusiasm.

Yuan Hanfei leaned in and started reading the content on the display board; standing behind him, Ji Xu sneaked a couple of glances as well, knowing he was never confident in activities requiring eloquence and quick thinking, well aware he couldn’t get involved in this.

He patted Yuan Hanfei on the shoulder: “I’ll look around elsewhere and come find you in a bit.”

Yuan Hanfei looked back at him and nodded: “Mhm.”

Ji Xu continued strolling along the stalls alone.

The sports field grew increasingly crowded as freshmen gathered in groups of three to five in front of various club display boards—a senior girl was teaching dance, a senior guy was demonstrating an aerial photography drone, someone set up a table writing calligraphy, and a long queue formed in front of a raffle box nearby.

Ji Xu wove through the crowd, his gaze sweeping aimlessly over the stalls on both sides, unknowingly walking to the easternmost area of the sports field.

That stall was arranged in a remarkably eye-catching manner.

A colorful banner was drawn with silhouettes of various anime characters, and high-definition hand-drawn posters were hung on brackets on both sides with vibrant colors and delicate brushstrokes.

In the open space in front of the stall stood four or five people dressed in exquisite cosplay outfits—some in black robes with long silver hair, some styled in red and black school uniforms, and others wearing fluffy animal ears and tails, every single one sporting detailed makeup and careful styling.

Quite a few passing students gathered around them to take photos and collect autographs, while the cosplayers struck iconic character poses, offering cool or sweet smiles to match the students holding up their phones.

Ji Xu stood by watching for a while, his gaze captivated by those beautiful outfits and makeup; he purely found them pleasing to the eye, the phrase “pleasing to the eye” circling several times in his mind.

Just as he was staring absent-mindedly at a cosplayer dressed in a gorgeous long dress—the character’s clothes layered and heavily embroidered with patterns—a guy sitting inside the stall proactively spoke up.

Qian Chenhe wore a simple white shirt today with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a sketchbook and several charcoal pencils spread out on the desk.

He had been sketching small portraits for inquiring freshmen all along; finishing his second drawing, he raised his head to rest, sweeping his gaze across the edge of the crowd, only to see Ji Xu standing there quietly.

His profile gleamed white under the sunlight and the curve of his eyelashes was distinctly outlined by the light—simply standing there casually, he was already more eye-catching than those carefully dressed cosplayers beside him.

“Junior,” Qian Chenhe waved a hand toward Ji Xu, a warm and non-intrusive smile on his face, “interested in joining the Anime Club?”

Ji Xu froze for a second, pointing to himself: “Me?”

He walked over to stand in front of the stall, seeing the open sketchbook on Qian Chenhe’s desk—the portrait drawn upon it was vivid and detailed, with clean, smooth lines and crisp, beautiful shading lines.

He looked at the posters hanging nearby again, those large-scale hand drawings clearly created by this person too, possessing a solid foundation that invited envy.

Qian Chenhe pulled a pink flyer from the desk and handed it over, printed with Anime Club activity photos and recruitment requirements.

Ji Xu accepted the poster and flipped through it.

Printed on it were the club’s routine activities—weekly movie screenings, monthly cosplay outdoor shoots, once-a-semester campus anime conventions—and listed further down was a line: “Commercial Partnerships: Our club maintains long-term partnerships with multiple off-campus anime convention organizations; participating in activities yields labor compensation, with single-activity earnings ranging from several thousand yuan.”

Ji Xu’s gaze stopped dead on that line of text, and Qian Chenhe beside him noticed the direction of his gaze, the corners of his lips curving slightly.

“Are there any requirements to join the Anime Club?” Ji Xu held the poster and raised his head to ask.

Looking at that face inquiring so earnestly, Qian Chenhe blinked, his tone carrying a slight hint of a joke: “For requirements, just being good-looking is enough.”

After saying so, he laughed first, waved his hand, and added seriously: “Of course, it’s even better if you genuinely like anime. We also recruit people with special talents—good at drawing, copywriting, or strong organizational skills—all of these can add points. What are you good at?”

Ji Xu didn’t answer that question.

His gaze fell back onto that poster, pointing at the line reading “single-activity earnings ranging from several thousand yuan” to ask: “Is it real that there’s money to be made?”

Qian Chenhe thought to himself: There’s a hook.

With his smile unchanged, he nodded surreptitiously: “Of course it’s real, we partner with many off-campus anime conventions. Every time an event is held, depending on the duration and role, compensation ranges in the thousands. If you can cosplay, it’s even more.”

He knew this number was extremely attractive to newly enrolled freshmen with tight budgets, intentionally speaking with an easy, firm tone as if it were a matter of course.

In reality, an event indeed yielded a few thousand yuan, except most of it went toward club operating funds and prop costs, leaving significantly less upon actual receipt—but he wasn’t in a hurry to mention that, prioritizing coaxing the person in first.

“I want to join,” Ji Xu blurted out almost instantly.

His eyes lit up, that enthusiasm bursting instantly because of the words “money to be made” pure and transparent.

Folding the poster neatly, he tucked it into his pocket, accepted the sign-up form from Qian Chenhe’s hand, and leaned over the corner of the desk, swiftly writing down his basic information—name, student ID, contact details, major, and grade—in neat and rapid handwriting, wishing he could finish filling it out in three seconds flat to count as officially joined.

Qian Chenhe accepted the completed form, glanced at it, noted down the name and contact details, then pulled out his phone to scan Ji Xu’s QR code, pulling him into the Anime Club’s welcoming group chat.

A “ding” notification sound popped up, and an additional chat box named “Shangnan Anime Club · 2026 Freshman Group” appeared on Ji Xu’s WeChat, inside of which dozens of welcoming messages had already flooded the screen.

“Welcome to the Anime Club, Junior.” Qian Chenhe smiled and extended his hand toward him.

When Ji Xu shook it, he felt Qian Chenhe’s fingers were somewhat warmer than his own, possessing a high palm temperature and a very light grip—completely different from Yuan Hanfei’s thick, solid handshake, yet equally conveying goodwill.

Stepping out from the stall, Ji Xu looked down at the newly joined group chat on his phone, scrolling through the activity schedule written in the group announcement.

What he was calculating in his mind was that income of “a few thousand yuan,” calculating whether participating in a few more events could earn him next semester’s living expenses, calculating whether he should try cosplaying too—although he didn’t know what character suited him, if there was money involved, any outfit would do.

The more he thought, the more the corners of his lips tilted up, walking toward the other end of the sports field with light steps to find Yuan Hanfei, who was still inquiring over at the Debate Club.

Sitting behind the stall, Qian Chenhe watched Ji Xu’s retreating figure walk further into the crowd, lowering his head to pick up that completed sign-up form to look at it once more.

Ji Xu.

English Major, Humanities Department.

He smiled, filed the form into a folder, picked up his charcoal pencil to turn to a fresh page in his sketchbook, and rapidly sketched a few lines—the outline of a side profile, half-length hair, downturned eyelashes.

He drew very fast with light, casual strokes; after finishing, he studied it for two seconds, added a tiny flower beside it, tore the page out, and tucked it into his notebook.

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