He was wondering why he needs to know more about differential and integral equations. The class spend hours learning how to differentiate and then spend even more hours integrating the equations back again.
Come to think of it, who needs mathematics to be happy? Maths teachers, maths majors, maths lecturers? He really couldn't think of anyone who derives intense pleasure from mathematical equations.
To be fair, who need to know the theories of Bohr, de Broglie, Planck, Rydberg and Schrodinger to be happy? He knows precious few people whose happiness is in direct proportion with the number of molecular facts they know.
He really don't expect himself to learn anything of much use in the next four years. Facts, perhaps. Yes, he'll learn many facts. But will the facts be useful? Highly unlikely, he thought.
-------------'Dad ask u take care. Concentrate study. Dun keep go out. Rest well drink more water. They say god bless u. Amen.'
'We are all very proud of you to go into the university. Jiayou for your studies. With love from all of us :)'
He felt a hot rush of warmth race through every fiber of his being as he read the messages. The words of encouragement came in quick succession. Before he could rationally process them, the next message came. Before he could intellectually grasp the messages' meanings, his emotions swamped him.
It was as though he had downed three shot of pure tequila and the resultant fire was coursing pleasantly through his veins. It felt as though he had swallowed a bar of Cadbury chocolate and the sweetness, ohh, it was intoxicating.
In these messages, he found his reason to study.