The Academic God Becomes an Internet Sensation After Joining a Dating Show - C21 - The Movie

Just beyond the tunnel stood the ten-meter-high glass tank they had visited earlier. Across from it, benches were lined up where visitors could sit quietly and watch the fish glide through the water.

The lighting in the hall remained softly dim, bathed in gentle blue hues that captured the ocean’s essence, elegant without feeling heavy. The spacious layout lent a subtle freshness to the air.

Qing Lin took a seat on one of the benches, his gaze fixed on the vast underwater world before him.

“Here. Shaved ice, strawberry flavor.”

A bowl of icy dessert appeared in front of him, served in a cup printed with a cute dolphin logo and the aquarium’s branding.

Qing Lin accepted it. “Thank you, Shen Laoshi.”

Shen Xuzhi sat down beside him, both of them quietly watching the massive sea tank.

Qing Lin liked strawberries, as well as anything with a strawberry flavor. To him, it was never strange, just a simple matter of personal taste.

He took a spoonful, letting it melt on his tongue. The ice quickly melted into cool water on his tongue, carrying a faint sweetness of strawberry syrup. It gave him a small burst of energy.

“Feeling any better?” Shen Xuzhi asked.

Qing Lin nodded.

The water beyond the glass was a clear, vivid blue. A massive whale shark glided gracefully by, followed by several giant manta rays weaving through schools of migrating deep-sea fish.

No matter how many times he saw it, the sight never failed to inspire awe.

“It’s like a movie,” Qing Lin murmured, his light-colored eyes reflecting the sea. Bubbles drifted upward as he let out a quiet sigh.

“It feels like we could sit here forever and never grow tired of it,” he added. “Only time keeps moving forward.”

Shen Xuzhi’s gaze was fixed on the scene as well.

His gaze was deep, not reflecting the water’s blue but seeming to draw it in, sinking with it into a cold, inky darkness.

Whenever the two of them sat together in silence, the atmosphere remained serene not awkward or uncomfortable, but perfectly peaceful.

Perhaps this was what people meant by serenity of time.

[This is such a beautiful scene.]

[They seriously look like a movie. Every single frame could be a wallpaper.]

“There’s an underwater theater in the aquarium,” Shen Xuzhi said. “How about we go take a look?”

Qing Lin was about to reply when a voice called out from a distance.

“You two! Seriously, this is too much!”

They turned to see Bai Wenle storming toward them, clearly frustrated.

“I can’t believe you two just left without telling me! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

He spotted the shaved ice in their hands and burst out, “You actually stopped for snacks? Are you two seriously sneaking around on a date without me?!”

Qing Lin deflected without missing a beat. “Want one too? I’ll go get you some.”

Bai Wenle had a long list of grievances he wanted to bring up. The fact that Qing Lin was a YouTuber, that he called Xu-ge his boyfriend, that the two of them kept vanishing into their own little world without him.

But how could he possibly keep his dignity when they kept brushing him off like this?

But then he remembered he had just managed to snag some free gear using Qing Lin’s name. His lips tightened, and reluctantly, set his grievances aside.

“…Melon flavor,” he mumbled.

Qing Lin bought him a shaved ice, listening as Wenle asked, “So, where to next?”

Qing Lin replied, “Shen Laoshi said we’re going to the underwater theater.”

Shen Xuzhi: “…”

He had only wanted the two of them to go together.

Wenle glanced at him.

Shen Xuzhi narrowed his eyes slightly, lips pressing into a cool, indifferent “Mm.”

“A theater? Sure, why not?” Wenle’s mood lifted again. “Let’s head out right away!”

The three of them made their way to the underwater cinema.

The theater wasn’t actually underwater, of course, but it was designed to look the part. Shell-shaped seats lined the room, and one entire wall was glass, with fish of every kind gliding past on the other side. At the center of the wall hung a massive screen and projector, giving the space the feel of an intimate, private theater.

“What do you want to watch?” Shen Xuzhi asked Qing Lin.

“Why don’t you ask me too?” Bai Wenle, seated beside Shen Xuzhi, cut in. “I say we watch Watching the Tides—how about that?”

[Oho! Lele’s getting clever. Choosing Xu-ge’s movie to set the mood.]

[Aaaahhh, Watching the Tides! Even the general audience said it was phenomenal.]

[LMAO, these three…]

“Watching the Tides—that’s the one you were nominated for Best Newcomer for, right?” Qing Lin turned to him. “Sure, let’s watch it.”

Wenle had chosen the film deliberately, already plotting to use every moment during the screening to lavish praise on Xu-ge and rack up as many brownie points as possible.

Watching the Tides tells the story of Liang Beiqi, an islander living with AIDS, struggling to survive amid suspicion and hardship. The film had won top honors at the Asian Film Festival.

Shen Xuzhi had played Liang Beiqi, losing over twenty pounds to fully embody the role.

The movie opened with a dim sky, a grey haze hanging over a desolate village. A solitary figure walked toward the sea—his back turned to the world.

The tone was heavy, mirrored by the color grading, steeped in muted, somber hues.

The scenes shifted.

Liang Beiqi had gotten into trouble with a powerful figure and was now pinned to the ground. Three or four thugs surrounded him, kicking and punching as crude insults echoed through the air.

When the beating finally ended, he rolled over…

He kept his head lowered, neither crying out nor begging for mercy. Instead, he leaned lazily against a stone post, taking a drag from a cigarette one of them had dropped, its tip still faintly glowing.

Qing Lin watched in silence for a moment before speaking.

“Director Huang Jingzhong truly has a sharp eye for cinematic aesthetics, infusing every scene’s imagery with both strong emotional resonance and thoughtful rationality. It strikes a balance between subjective sensitivity and objective intellect. At its core, though, it reminds me of Mr. Xu Shan’s Withered Death. Suddenly, I understand why Director Huang chose you, Shen Laoshi.”

[Oh my god, what a high-level form of compliment]

[Compliments from a genius are on a whole other level—AHHHH! Watched this in theaters and all that I could say was “holy sh*t.”]

Hearing this, Bai Wenle was at a loss for words.

What was he even talking about? It sounded so impressive… Should he be praising too?

But after racking his brain, he couldn’t think of anything sophisticated, so he simply blurted out, “…Wow, Xu-ge, your acting is amazing.”

[Yep, that’s me, I’m Bai Wenle—only able to say “your acting’s great” before running out of words.]

Every frame of the film carried its own story. The zooms in and out were executed with great precision, and the meticulous attention to detail in each scene was unmistakable.

The story gradually moved toward its conclusion.

Dragging his exhausted body, Liang Beiqi, just as in the opening, was seen only from behind, walking alone toward the sea.

A hoarse voice drifted through the moment, its tone roughened and smoothed by life’s relentless trials, carrying a quiet helplessness and a deep, world-weary fatigue.

The subtitles appeared—

“On the 15th and 16th days of the lunar month, the strong tides flow with the crowd, filled with angry voices. It shows that the world itself can cry out in pain.”

Music swelled, gently enveloping the pitch-black screen.

Qing Lin sat in silence for a long moment, his emotions too tangled to put into words.

“The ending theme is Shen Laoshi’s original composition… I believe it’s a homage to Tchaikovsky’s June: Barcarolle,” Qing Lin said. “As Liang Beiqi walks toward the tide and sinks into the vortex, the melody shifts, drawing the listener toward a hope of breaking free from the darkness, but in the end, it still falls back to the shackles of that same darkness.”

He turned to Shen Xuzhi, speaking with utmost sincerity. “As expected of Shen Laoshi, combined with your acting, Watching the Tides is truly masterpiece.”

The live comments scrolled.

[If I were Shen Xuzhi, I’d just propose right then and there.]

[He’s so good with words, I’m sobbing]

[I’ve already cried once watching Watching the Tides, and now Qing Lin’s words are making me cry again. It feels like he’s speaking directly to Liang Beiqi: “Living is the greatest thing you can do. I hope you can face death with sincerity.”]

[Stop, you’re making me cry too!]

When the movie ended, the theater lights slowly brightened.

After holding it in for a long time, Bai Wenle decided he still had to give some praise. “Xu-ge, you’re amazing… so handsome.”

For once, Shen Xuzhi, who rarely accepted praise, accepted the compliment. “Thanks,” he replied.

Now, only three hours remained before the date came to an end. In that time, the next round of mutual selection would begin.

As they stepped out of the theater, a quiet realization settled in —they had already wandered through nearly every corner of the aquarium.

Turning toward Qing Lin, Shen Xuzhi asked, “Is there somewhere else you want to go?”

A scene from Watching the Tides flickered in Qing Lin’s mind. Liang Beiqi had watched the tide sixty-four times.

At the horizon, the fiery red sun dipped below the edge, casting a crimson glow over the sea as the waves surged forward and receded, again and again.

After a moment’s pause, Qing Lin said, “I want to watch a sunset.”