The next day.
7 a.m. sharp.
Without the need for an alarm, Qin Xuehai's biological clock was already ingrained in his marrow.
Qin Xuehai's dormitory was a mess, with materials, books, and models scattered everywhere, a sight that would cause outsiders to cringe.
But he enjoyed it very much because he could clearly find each and every document.
Sitting on his bed, Qin Xuehai reflected for a quarter of an hour, an essential part of his daily routine.
Every morning upon waking, he would clear his mind.
Then he would organize recent events and plan today's work.
For him, these fifteen minutes were incredibly precious, even equivalent to his itinerary for the day.
He sniffed an old sock, deemed it acceptable, and put it on his foot, then changed into a passable set of clothes.
Qin Xuehai got up, ready to head to the dining hall.
By the way… today he'd head home to pick up some clean clothes.
It must be said, Qin Xuehai's wife was great for being able to accept this.
