The origin of the matter can be traced back to the second week of the new semester. It was a rainy day, and the air was filled with a damp, moldy smell. The students, dragging their sleepy bodies, filed in, ready to face the old professor's "calculus hell." Just as everyone was drowsily opening their textbooks, someone whispered in surprise, "Look, what is that on the blackboard?" All eyes instantly focused on the lower right corner of the blackboard—there, a complex pattern drawn in colored chalk was glaringly visible. At the center was a heart shape, surrounded by colorful lines, resembling some kind of mysterious magic circle, with elegant handwriting next to it saying, "Peach Blossom Array, help you get rid of being single, come activate it quickly." Below, there was a line of small text: "Step 1, find your corresponding zodiac point; Step 2, silently repeat the name of your crush three times; Step 3, remain single to show sincerity."

The whole class erupted. A few boys squeezed to the front of the blackboard, pretending to study the pattern while actually snickering; the girls were taking photos and whispering, with someone seriously asking, "What does this mean? Is staying single for real?" Even the usually serious class monitor couldn't help but lean in, adjusting his glasses and mumbling, "This artwork... has some substance." Unfortunately, the advanced math teacher that day was a stern old man who frowned and wiped the entire blackboard clean as soon as he entered, muttering "nonsense." Everyone sighed in regret, thinking it was just a boring prank by some student.

But things were not that simple. The following Monday, a new pattern appeared on the blackboard. This time, the "Peach Blossom Array" was upgraded, with more complex curves and an accompanying "Zodiac Love Guide." For example, the suggestion for Gemini was "Talk more flirtatiously, show less real feelings," while Scorpio was "Maximize the killing power of your gaze, the way to go is to entice and then let go." Even more outrageous, next to the pattern was a small comic: a chibi Cupid holding a bow and arrow, with the words "Hit your heart, escape being single." The whole class fell into a frenzy again, with some guessing whether it was a top student doing this as a side job in their spare time, while others suspected it was "external help" from the neighboring art department.

From that day on, the "Peach Blossom Array" became a regular feature in Classroom 302. Every Monday, the lower right corner of the blackboard would be refreshed on time, with increasingly outrageous content: from "How to stun your crush with your gaze" to "Late-night love topic guide in the dorm," and then to "Upgraded magic circle: Heartbeat signal amplifier." The style became more and more exquisite, with chalk colors evolving from a single white chalk to a riot of colors, and even the thickness of the lines showed a certain inexplicable attention to detail. The class gossip group exploded, and everyone gave this mysterious artist various nicknames: "Peach Blossom Immortal," "Blackboard Cupid," "Single Terminator." Some even initiated a vote in the group to guess whether the artist was male or female, a cool top student or a silly drama queen.

The craze to find the artist quickly swept the entire class. During breaks, students no longer just focused on their phones but gathered around the blackboard to analyze the "modus operandi." Xiao Li was a guy who called himself "Sherlock Holmes," and he brought a magnifying glass (he really brought a magnifying glass!) to study the chalk marks, concluding, "This person must be left-handed; the curvature of the lines has a unique bias." Xiao Mei analyzed from a psychological perspective: "The person who draws this must have a strong desire for romance, but in reality, they might be socially anxious; otherwise, why hide?" Someone even had a sudden idea to suggest installing a camera in the classroom, but the class monitor voted it down: "We don't do things that invade privacy, and besides, catching them would be too boring."

However, what drove everyone crazy was the interactivity of the "Peach Blossom Array." On one occasion, a question was left next to the pattern: "What is your ideal type? A. Gentle senior, B. Silly junior, C. Cool top student, or D. Other?" As a result, the following Monday, the blackboard was updated with a "Ideal Type Analysis Report," providing detailed "single escape strategies" based on everyone's comments from the previous week (some people really replied on the blackboard!). For example, students who chose A were advised to "frequently visit the library for a chance encounter; gentle seniors love quiet," while those who chose B were dissed with "Silly juniors are cute, but be careful not to get so mad you spit blood." This operation left the whole class in awe of the artist's creativity.

Of course, the end of gossip inevitably led to wild speculation. Some said the artist might be the boy in class who always wore a hat because he sat in the last row during every class, secretly taking notes; others suspected it was the quiet girl with glasses, as she would sneak a glance at the blackboard every time she passed by, looking guilty. Some even had wild ideas, thinking it might be someone secretly in love with someone in the class, using this method to confess. As a result, everyone in Classroom 302 became a "suspect." Even the usually quiet Lao Wang was pulled into the analysis just because he once drew circles on the desk with a piece of chalk during class.

As time went on, the "Peach Blossom Array" began to influence life outside the classroom. The single students in the class started to half-jokingly try to "activate the array," such as silently repeating the name of their crush in front of the blackboard or adjusting their "dating strategies" according to the guide. Xiao Zhang was an action-oriented guy; he followed the advice in the "Libra strategy" and mustered the courage to send a meme to his crush, only to receive a "?" in return. Xiao Zhang cried in the group: "Is this array toxic? I feel even more single!" But there were also unexpected gains—Xiao Mei tried to follow the guide's suggestion to run on the playground to "encounter sporty boys," and she really met a guy from the basketball team, although she later found out he already had a girlfriend.

The identity of the artist remained a mystery, but this craze had spread from Classroom 302 to the entire teaching building. Students from other classes heard about it and came to watch during breaks, and some even secretly imitated it, drawing a crude version of the "Peach Blossom Array" on their own classroom blackboards. However, everyone unanimously agreed that those imitations were nothing to compare to—the lines were rough, the colors were glaring, and the text had a strong "marketing account" vibe. The students of 302 scoffed at this: "Our artist is an artist; yours is just assembly line work!"

As the midterm exam approached, the "Peach Blossom Array" suddenly stopped updating for a week. The lower right corner of the blackboard was empty, as if something was missing. Students went from initial disappointment to later worry, and various speculations began to circulate in the group: Was the artist sick? Or had they been caught by the teacher? The more exaggerated claims suggested that the artist had found love and thus lost the motivation to draw! The guesses became more and more absurd, and finally, someone proposed, "Why don't we leave a message on the blackboard, asking the artist to return?" So, on Friday night, a bunch of crooked chalk letters appeared on the blackboard: "Peach Blossom Immortal, where are you?" "Cupid, please come back; we still want to see!" "If you don't draw next week, I won't study!"

Miraculously, the following Monday, the familiar pattern reappeared on the blackboard. This time, the "Peach Blossom Array" was particularly exquisite, with a small angel added to the center of the heart, and the surrounding lines resembled blooming petals, with the words next to it saying, "Touched by your enthusiasm, the artist returns! This time it's the ultimate version—Peach Blossom Full Bloom Array, wishing everyone constant heartbeats." The whole class cheered, and someone even suggested crowdfunding a box of high-quality chalk for the artist as a "fan benefit."

Although the identity of the artist remains a mystery, this event has left an indelible mark in the class. Every time someone passes by Classroom 302, they will subconsciously glance at the lower right corner of the blackboard, looking forward to the next appearance of the "Peach Blossom Array." Some say this is not just about drawing but a kind of ritual of youth—those lines dusted with chalk not only outline a love guide but also the absurdity and romance of university life.

As for who the artist really is? Maybe it's a shy idealist, maybe it's a hidden joker, or perhaps just an ordinary person who wants to make everyone smile. Who knows? The "Peach Blossom Array" on the blackboard continues, and we, the onlookers, are happy to keep guessing.