Like most of the campus buildings, the Ninth Building had a classic charm. The curved eaves at the roof's four corners rose gracefully, painted in bright colors.
However, the old wooden floors and stairs creaked with every step. Hongxiao thought that if the lights were out at night, this would be the perfect spot to shoot a horror film.
Outside Room 301 hung a large picture, appearing to be an anatomical diagram of a brain. A series of bulletin boards on the wall displayed reports, probably summaries of the lab's recent research. Hongxiao examined the peculiar words on the boards with curiosity.
At that moment, the door of Room 301 opened. Hongxiao instinctively turned to look and saw a girl step out.
He didn't get a clear look at her clothes because his attention was quickly captured by her eyes.
She glanced at him lightly. Her bright, deep, and clear eyes seemed to hold an unspoken message under the soft glow of the light. Just as Hongxiao was unconsciously pondering what her gaze was trying to convey, the girl had already walked away.
"Eyes bright as stars, gaze soft as moonlight."" he mused. "So this is what they mean."
"Maybe she's here to apply too? If that's the case, I hope we both make it!" Hongxiao had felt low ever since starting college, but for the first time, he felt that tomorrow might hold something better.
As she left, the door to Room 301 remained ajar. He intended to knock but gently pushed it open instead.
Inside was a large space, with a sofa and coffee table in the center, perhaps for guests to wait. Several doors led to other rooms, one of which had a sign that read "Professor Zhu Di."
Hearing the door open, a middle-aged man came out.
He was tall, wore a casual suit, glasses with a slight prescription, and had a polite smile.
Hongxiao thought, Not bad. This mostly fits the image of a scientist. If he had a little more white hair and maybe a bald spot, it'd be perfect.
"And you are?"
"Oh, I'm here to apply as a lab assistant."
"Welcome, welcome. Please, have a seat." Judy gestured for Hongxiao to sit on the sofa in the center.
"Let me tell you a bit about our lab," he said. After some small talk and learning about Hongxiao's background, Professor Zhu got straight to the point.
"Our research focuses on the brain's higher functions, including consciousness, memory, psychological activities, and so forth. We primarily use physical methods to stimulate the brain and then capture and analyze response signals. It's a popular area of research, but it requires highly advanced equipment, so only a few labs worldwide can pursue it. We're among the top labs in this field."
Hongxiao listened attentively, sensing that this scientist's assessment of his own lab could be taken with either one of two possible assumptions.
In one way, it could be assumed that the professor was humbly downplaying the lab's brilliant achievements.
In the other way, it could be assumed that he might be exaggerating with some grand terminology to boost the lab's image.
Hongxiao didn't really care which way it is. He just couldn't help but try to formulate some theory of other people's mind.
"Our lab currently has several researchers, including doctoral and master's students. However, we're looking to recruit one or two freshman students interested in research and who would be a good fit for this project, so we can train them early."
Hongxiao didn't consider himself particularly interested in research. His grandfather's accident had influenced him toward clinical medicine instead. But remembering the girl he had just seen, he tried to appear as interested as possible.
"We've already had several interview sessions, though interestingly, most of the applicants have been clinical medicine students. Given your background in biomedical science, I'd expect more interest in research from your fellow classmates. But you're the first."
Hongxiao thought about his roommates. They were either transferred in or chose the biomedical science program because the score requirements were lower than clinical medicine. The other students in his class were more or less the same. Not exactly research-minded individuals.
"Our interview process is quite simple. I'll ask you three questions. Take your time, think about them carefully, and share your thoughts. These questions don't have right or wrong answers. We just want to see if your thought process aligns with our project. Ready?"
"Ready."
"First question: Why do you want to apply to our lab as a research assistant?"
"I heard you're studying telepathy. It sounds like an interesting topic," Hongxiao answered honestly, unable to think of any more refined answer.
Professor Zhu burst out laughing.
"Almost every candidate answers that way. We might need to change that question."
Hongxiao was unsure if his answer was good or bad.
"Our research does indeed relate to consciousness and its interactions. I recently gave a talk at the university and used that term to simplify things. Interestingly, most people didn't grasp the content but remembered the term. It's quite different from what the public understands telepathy to be."
"What's the difference?"
Professor didn't answer but glanced at a small notebook in his hand. "That's something we can discuss later. Let's move on to the second question."
Hongxiao watched him staring at his notebook for a moment, lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how.
Is the second question so complex it's even hard to phrase? Hongxiao felt a bit tense.
"What do you think is the biggest difference between you and everyone else in the world?"
In the past, he might have thought this was a riddle, deceptively straightforward yet holding a twist—find the twist, and you'd land on an unexpected, often witty answer.
But ever since arriving on campus, he had felt a wall between himself and everyone else. No matter where he went, others seemed inside that wall, while he was the only one standing outside, observing those within.
Or perhaps everyone else was outside the wall, and he alone stood inside, observing those on the outside.
These people within or outside the wall had similar shapes and behaviors to his own, but he couldn't feel what they felt; he could only guess their emotions through their words and actions.
But who really knew?
Only his own feelings were real and tangible to him. They were the only thing he could be certain of.
"I think… only I can feel my existence. The feelings of everyone else—I can only observe and imagine what they might feel."
Professor Zhu seemed genuinely interested in this answer.
"So, you're saying you're aware of your self-consciousness, but you can't sense anyone else's self-consciousness. You're not even sure if they have it; you can only guess that they might be self-aware, based on observation?"
"Exactly!" Hongxiao thought, This professor is sharp; he summarized it perfectly.
Professor Zhu pondered over his notebook. "Now, for the third question. Let's assume everyone does have self-consciousness. Even though you can't directly feel it, we can hypothesize that self-consciousness is real for everyone. When someone dies, do you think their self-consciousness might continue to exist?"
Hongxiao hesitated. Isn't consciousness dependent on the brain? When a person dies, their brain decomposes; how could consciousness continue? We shouldn't fall into the depths of idealism here.
But he thought of his grandfather, who had been so close to him growing up, only to suddenly pass away. His grandfather's death was Hongxiao's first experience of losing a loved one. He couldn't fathom how a person—filled with knowledge, experience, memories, and love—could just vanish.
"I don't think it's possible… but I hope it is."
Professor nodded, still staring at his notebook. He hadn't written anything in it; it seemed he simply liked looking at it.
After a brief silence, Professor Zhu looked up.
"Well, that's all three questions. Do you have any questions for me?"
His thoughts still on consciousness, death, and his grandfather, Hongxiao was jolted back to reality by Professor's counter-question.
He wanted to ask about the girl he'd seen earlier—her name, her department.
But he resisted.
"Uh, how much time will this assistantship take each week? And… is there a stipend?"
"This position will likely take most of your free time. Besides participating in lab experiments, you'll need to study quite a bit of theory. The school has allowed us to convert this time into credits, so it won't affect your GPA. As for a stipend, the lab pays 150 yuan a month. It's not much since this isn't a formal job."
Hongxiao was thrilled. One hundred and fifty yuan was no small sum. Even if he splurged on a five-yuan meal every day, he could feast for a month!
"Anything else?" Professor asked, noticing his satisfaction.
"No."
"Alright." Professor Zhu stood up, a clear signal for Hongxiao to leave.
"Next week, if we decide to hire you, someone will visit you in your dorm. You live in Dorm One, Room 108, right?"
Hongxiao nodded, feeling he had successfully completed this interview.
As he walked back to the dorm, he heard "Great China" playing from a nearby shop. The song's uplifting tune suited his current mood perfectly. Maybe next week, he'd receive two pieces of good news.
There will be bread, and there will be love.