Chapter 134: The Shortest Poem in History (1/10) Please subscribe for the first time.

The dormitory complex, centered around the Wumei supermarket, looked uniform and orderly. Each window was equipped with an external air-conditioning unit, ensuring that students would not be besieged by the sweltering summer heat.

This year, the male students of the Chinese Department were assigned to Building 45B, located on the west side of the Yanda campus. It was just a few minutes' walk to the West Second Gate, and another few minutes from there to the apartment Zhang Chu had rented; the location was very convenient.

"Your dormitory conditions are quite good. You're very close to the Xuewu Canteen. It's very cheap around here, and the stir-fried shredded beef and the big stew are recognized classics—you should try them. If you can't get used to the canteen food, there are plenty of restaurants outside the school."

Li Tao was very talkative, pouring out everything he knew. He had been at Yanda for several years and was well-versed in all the local delicacies.

After registering with the dormitory manager on the first floor, the two walked up the stairs to the second floor. For a dormitory without an elevator, this was clearly an ideal number, meaning fewer flights of stairs to climb. The floor didn't seem crowded; only a few dorm rooms had their doors open, with parents busy making beds and organizing living quarters.

Seeing "Dorm 222" in front of him, Zhang Chu wanted to smear the face of the staff member who arranged the housing. What the hell was this? Why did he have to live in Bed 2 of Dorm 222? Should he be thankful that he was in Building 45 and not Building 22?

"Classmate, are you in Dorm 222 as well?" A sturdy, middle-aged man was making a bed inside the room, while a young student wearing black-rimmed glasses was putting on a pillowcase nearby.

Zhang Chu raised the key in his hand and said, "I'm in Bed 2. My name is Zhang Chu, from Jiangdong Province. How about you two?"

"Bed 2?"

The bespectacled student suppressed a laugh, his mouth almost unable to close.

"Go ahead and laugh, it's fine," Zhang Chu said helplessly. He feared this joke about Bed 2 in Dorm 222 would haunt his entire university career.

"Sorry, I really can't help it. I'm Yang Ling in Bed 3, same major as you." Yang Ling hadn't expected that such a "quintessential" number would be assigned to the most famous student in the Yanda Chinese Department this year.

Li Tao, standing to the side, couldn't help but chuckle either. Although every building had a Room 222 with a Bed 2, not everyone was Zhang Chu.

Zhang Chu silently took a photo of his bed number, preparing to post it on Weibo to seek some sympathy.

Only then did Yang Ling notice with surprise that his roommate had arrived empty-handed. "How come you didn't bring anything? What are you going to do tonight?"

"I came by myself. I've already placed an order on the Gou-Dong home delivery app, and they'll send it over directly. Whatever is in the supermarket, they'll deliver. The delivery fee is just a bit high."

Technology truly changes life; nowadays, not to mention takeout, even sheets and quilts could be delivered directly to the dormitory building.

The middle-aged man, who had been busy making the bed, stopped and gave a thumbs-up: "I originally wanted Yang Ling to come by himself. Look at how much easier it is for others."

The Yanda dorms were a bit strange; the bunk beds were divided into upper and lower berths, whereas Zhang Chu's high school dormitory had also been a four-person room, but every bed was an upper berth, with desks and cabinets underneath.

"Well, you just wait in the dorm for the delivery," Li Tao said. "I still have to go to the orientation point to pick up the others. We'll have plenty of chances to meet after school starts." He waved goodbye. As an orientation volunteer, his workload for the next two days was quite heavy.

"Go ahead and get busy, Brother Li. Bye!"

After seeing Li Tao off, Zhang Chu found his bed and desk. He placed his bag on the desk and carefully examined the dormitory environment. There were air conditioning and fans, as well as heating—something Zhang Chu had never encountered before. The balcony looked quite spacious, and there was a private toilet, though one had to go to the floor's bathroom to shower.

Heating and communal bathhouses seemed foreign to a student from the south, but since Zhang Chu didn't plan on staying at the school every day, these were acceptable.

Since they were meeting for the first time, Yang Ling and Zhang Chu weren't too familiar yet. To avoid an awkward silence, Yang Ling took the initiative, waving the copy of *Southern Weekly* in his hand. "I saw your interview on the train today. That poem of yours, 'Life,' is written quite well. Life really is just a net, isn't it?"

Zhang Chu had been so busy lately that he had forgotten about the interview. He replied in surprise, "It's out already? I haven't even seen it myself. I really don't know if the interview was any good."

"It's pretty good. I know you're a humorous person; it matches perfectly with such a quintessential room and bed number."

"Let's not talk about that, and we can still be friends," Zhang Chu joked. He had only known he was assigned to Building 45B and had no idea about the specific room or bed number.

Yang Ling made an apologetic gesture and smiled. "Everyone says you can't write poetry, but I think your poem 'Life' is written very concisely, and it’s evocative."

When Zhang Chu was interviewed by the *Southern Weekly* reporter, the reporter had raised a similar point. Many people argued that "facing the sea, with spring blossoms" was not true poetry, as it lacked rhyme or structure, and the imagery was ethereal.

Modern poetry did not need to be as rigorous as ancient quatrains or regulated verse, so during the interview, he had tossed out this uniquely distinct piece!

*Life*

Net

The entire poem consisted of only one character. Without even a punctuation mark, it encapsulated the essence of life. This was originally one of the most famous poems by the renowned Misty Poet Bei Dao, and it was widely celebrated.

It was also a favorite among many students, because when forced by teachers to recite poetry, one could just announce the title and say a single word before stepping off the stage!

In his previous life, Zhang Chu had done exactly that. He had recited *Life* in front of the whole class and stepped down a few seconds later, leaving his classmates dumbfounded.

There was no shorter poem in the world. Zhang Chu had previously written what he claimed was the world's shortest mystery story, but compared to this, it was still too long. After all, it was only one character; it couldn't get any shorter!

Yang Ling's tone was full of admiration. While he was still just a student, his roommate had already begun challenging those famous critics, and this rebuttal sounded exceptionally powerful.

"It was just a moment of inspiration, not worth mentioning," Zhang Chu said modestly. At the very least, this poem by Bei Dao was far better than any "Pear Blossom Style" drivel—this was true New Poetry!

"It's written very well, and it’s very satisfying. Those old stubborn folks just can't stand anything new; their prejudices should have been broken long ago," Yang Ling praised. Having such a roommate for four years would surely be interesting.

Zhang Chu couldn't help but laugh. He had specifically released this poem during his *Southern Weekly* interview to make sure that special commentator from the *Southern Metropolis Daily* would see it. He really wondered what the expression of that critic, who worshipped ancient poetry, would be upon seeing this shortest of poems.