The incident dates back to the second week of school. It was a gloomy, rainy day, the air thick with a damp, musty smell. Students, still half-asleep, filed into the classroom, bracing themselves for the professor's "calculus hell." But just as everyone drowsily opened their textbooks, someone exclaimed in surprise, "Look! What's that on the blackboard?" All eyes instantly focused on the bottom right corner of the blackboard—there, a complex pattern drawn with colored chalk stood out. In the center was a heart shape, surrounded by colorful lines, like some kind of mysterious magic circle. Beside it, in delicate handwriting, were the words: "Peach Blossom Array, helping you find love, activate it now!" Below was a smaller line: "Step One: Find your zodiac sign's corresponding point; Step Two: Silently recite your crush's name three times; Step Three: Remain single to show your sincerity."

The whole class erupted in chaos. Several boys crowded around the blackboard, pretending to study the pattern, but secretly chuckling; the girls took pictures and whispered amongst themselves, one even asking seriously, "What does this mean? Is staying single for real?" Even the usually serious class monitor couldn't resist joining in, adjusting his glasses and muttering, "This drawing... it's got something." Unfortunately, the calculus teacher that day was a stern old man. He entered the room, frowned, and wiped the entire blackboard clean, muttering "Nonsense." Everyone sighed regretfully, assuming it was just some student's silly prank.

But things weren't that simple. The following Monday, a new pattern appeared on the blackboard. This time, the "Peach Blossom Array Diagram" was upgraded, with several more complex curves and an accompanying "Zodiac Love Guide." For example, Gemini's advice was "talk more flirtatious talk, less real feelings," while Scorpio's was "maximum eye contact, playing hard to get is the key." Even more outrageous, next to the pattern was a small cartoon: a chibi Cupid holding a bow and arrow, with the words "Shoot your heart, and single life will be over." The whole class went into a frenzy again. Some started guessing if this was a side job done by some top student in their spare time, while others suspected it was the work of "outside help" from the neighboring art department.

From that day on, the "Peach Blossom Array Diagram" became a regular feature of classroom 302. Every Monday, the bottom right corner of the blackboard would be refreshed with increasingly outrageous content: from "How to charm a crush with your eyes" to "A guide to late-night dating topics in the dorm," and then to "An upgraded version of the magic circle: a heart-fluttering signal amplifier." The style also became more and more refined, with the chalk color evolving from a single white chalk to a vibrant array of colors, and even the thickness of the lines showing a strange meticulousness. The class gossip group exploded, and everyone gave this mysterious artist all sorts of nicknames: "Peach Blossom Fairy," "Blackboard Cupid," and "Single Terminator." Some people even started a poll in the group to guess whether the artist was male or female, a cool and aloof academic genius or a silly and dramatic character.

The fervor for finding an artist quickly swept through the entire class. During breaks, students no longer just scrolled through their phones but gathered around the blackboard to analyze the "method." Xiao Li, a self-proclaimed "Sherlock Holmes," used a magnifying glass (he actually brought one!) to examine the chalk marks, concluding, "This person is definitely left-handed; the curves of the lines have a unique bias." Xiao Mei analyzed it from a psychological perspective: "The person who draws these must crave romance, but in reality, they might be socially awkward—otherwise, why would they hide it?" Someone even had a sudden inspiration to suggest installing a camera in the classroom, but the class monitor vetoed it outright: "We won't do anything that invades privacy. Besides, what's the point of getting caught?"

However, what's most infuriating is the interactivity of the "Peach Blossom Formation Diagram." One time, a question was left next to the diagram: "What's your ideal type? A. Gentle senior, B. Silly junior, C. Cool and aloof academic genius, or D. Other?" The following Monday, a "Personality Analysis Report" was updated on the blackboard, providing detailed "single-finding strategies" based on everyone's comments from the previous week (some people actually replied on the blackboard!). For example, students who chose A were advised to "try to bump into gentle seniors in the library; they're all quiet," while those who chose B were criticized for "the silly juniors are cute, but be careful they don't drive you crazy." This whole thing left the entire class in awe of the artist's creativity.

Of course, gossip inevitably leads to speculation. Some said the artist might be the boy in the class who always wore a hat, because he always sat in the last row and furtively took notes; others suspected it was the quiet girl with glasses, because she would always steal a glance at the blackboard as she passed by, as if she felt guilty. Still others had wilder ideas, thinking it might be someone who had a crush on someone in the class and was confessing in this way. Suddenly, everyone in classroom 302 became a "suspect." Even the usually quiet Old Wang was dragged into the analysis, simply because he once drew circles on his desk with a piece of chalk during class.

As time went on, the "Peach Blossom Formation" began to influence life outside the classroom. The single students in the class started jokingly trying to "activate the formation," such as silently reciting their crush's name while looking at the blackboard or adjusting their "dating strategies" according to the guide. Xiao Zhang, a man of action, followed the advice in the "Libra Guide" and reluctantly sent an emoji to his crush, only to receive a "?" in an instant. Xiao Zhang lamented in the group chat, "Is this formation cursed? I feel even more single now!" But there was an unexpected bonus—Xiao Mei tried running on the track as suggested in the guide to "bump into athletic guys," and actually met a guy from the basketball team, although she later discovered he already had a girlfriend.

The artist's identity remains a mystery, but the craze has spread from classroom 302 throughout the entire school building. Students from other classes, hearing about it, came to watch during breaks, and some even secretly imitated it, drawing a rudimentary version of the "Peach Blossom Maze" on their own classroom blackboards. However, everyone agreed that those imitations were completely inferior—the lines were rough, the colors jarring, and the text had a strong "marketing account" feel to it. The students in 302 scoffed at this: "Our artist is an artist; yours is assembly-line work!"

Just before the midterm exams, "Peach Blossom Formation Diagram" suddenly stopped updating for a week. The lower right corner of the blackboard was empty, as if something was missing. The students went from initial disappointment to worry, and various speculations began circulating in the group chat: Was the artist sick? Or caught by the teacher? Even more outrageous rumors suggested that the artist had found a partner and therefore lost motivation to draw! The more outlandish the speculations, the more someone suggested, "Why don't we leave a message on the blackboard, begging the artist to return?" So, on Friday night, a bunch of crooked chalk writing appeared on the blackboard: "Peach Blossom Immortal, where are you?" "Qiu Bi is gone, we want to see more!" "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 exceptionally exquisite, with a little angel in the center of the heart shape, and the surrounding lines resembling blooming petals. Next to it was written: "Touched by your enthusiasm, the artist is back! This time it's the ultimate version—the Peach Blossom Array. May your hearts always be filled with joy." The whole class cheered, and some even suggested crowdfunding a box of high-quality chalk for the artist as a "fan benefit."

Although the artist's identity remains a mystery, this event has left an indelible mark on the class. Every time they pass by classroom 302, everyone subconsciously glances at the lower right corner of the blackboard, hoping for the next appearance of the "Peach Blossom Formation." Some say that this is not just drawing, but a kind of youthful ritual—those chalk-dusted lines outline not only a guide to love, but also the absurdity and romance of college life.

As for who the artist is? Maybe a shy idealist, maybe a hidden comedian, or maybe just an ordinary person who wants to make everyone laugh. Who knows? The "Peach Blossom Formation Diagram" on the blackboard continues, and we, the onlookers, are happy to keep guessing.