Three hundred seventy, Ouyang Yi.

Birdsong and the scent of flowers filled the air, as a spring breeze, still carrying a hint of chill, gently brushed across faces brimming with youthful vitality.

The campus, silent during the New Year, once again buzzed with activity.

On the tree-lined paths, clusters of students walked and laughed together; some cycled through, weaving past pedestrians; others strolled with books in hand, enjoying the scenery as they went.

"Luo Shu, during this year's Spring Festival, Li Hui visited my home," Meng Yujuan said happily.

"It must have gone smoothly, right?" Luo Shu asked with a smile.