Lin Shuang dressed up meticulously before going out. She didn’t stop by the milk tea shop to check in, nor did she bother explaining much to Zhou Zheng, only saying: “I’ve made plans with people these past few days, I might come home late. Go about your own business, don’t worry about me.”

This new semester he was especially busy, with work at other schools on his hands, and he still needed to check on the new house from time to time. Lin Shuang was even generous about it: “I’ll take the car. If you’re really busy, why not just stay on duty at the school dormitory for a few days, save yourself the back-and-forth commute, and you won’t need to look after me either.”

Zhou Zheng’s expression instantly darkened. He looked her over from head to toe—every strand of her hair meticulously styled, as if she were headed to some grand banquet: “Do you have something going on these past few days?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Zhou Zheng asked instinctively: “With who?”

Lin Shuang applied lipstick in front of the mirror, carefully pressing her red lips together, then glanced sideways at him, her eyes shimmering, and said lightly: “A friend.”

She lowered her long lashes, hiding the emotion in her eyes, casting dense shadows across her cheeks.

Zhou Zheng stood with his hands in his pockets, brows locked, saying nothing as he watched her.

Lin Shuang changed into a new outfit and left without a shred of hesitation.

She had arranged to meet Li Xiaoyi at a café by the fountain plaza. Li Xiaoyi wore a sharply tailored suit and polished leather shoes; the two of them looked every bit the modern urban sophisticates, a pleasure to look at.

The two stood in the smoking area, each finishing a cigarette with practiced ease. Lin Shuang got straight to the point: “When are you leaving? What day are you planning to go back to Linjiang?”

“Whenever works.” Li Xiaoyi turned to look at her, his tone laden with meaning, wistful. “I haven’t planned on going back just yet.”

“Perfect then—could you stay a bit longer, for my sake?” Lin Shuang brushed back her long hair, her demeanor a stark departure from her usual coolness, now soft and alluring, her voice teasing and bright. “I’m free lately too. Keep me company?”

A flicker of astonishment and excitement crossed his eyes: “Of course, no problem…”

Lin Shuang gave a self-mocking little laugh, one that also seemed like flirtation: “I remember, back then, on our last phone call, you told me there were still a few months until New Year, that you’d fly back and spend proper time with me. Who knew, one thing led to another, and so many years passed—but that promise finally came true.”

“I’m sorry… Shuangshuang.”

“Is saying sorry any use? Better to show something real—that would settle my heart more.” Lin Shuang pinched the cigarette in her hand, asking him idly, “We’ve been apart all these years. Have you been alone the whole time?”

“Yes.” Li Xiaoyi lowered his head, downcast.

“And our past—do you still remember it?”

“Every detail, vivid. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Is that so? What a good memory.” Lin Shuang smiled with a hint of playfulness, pondering for a moment. “Do you know? Zhou Zheng and I first met in this very café. It was a blind date arrangement—I didn’t recognize him at the time, and he didn’t call it out either. We got to know each other all over again, and in the end, somehow, we ended up together.”

“That bastard, he actually dared to hide it from me—he’d known me for all those years already.”

Li Xiaoyi caught the intimacy in her tone, his throat working: “He… doesn’t deserve you at all.”

Lin Shuang shrugged her shoulders: “Talk to me. Tell me about us back in high school. Zhou Zheng’s mentioned some of our old love stories, but I’ve forgotten a lot of the details. I want to go back over those days.”

“Of course.” His memories were full of their sweetness; Li Xiaoyi mused for a moment, then nodded. “Though, I’m afraid I’ll have to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

Li Xiaoyi said: “Do you still remember my house?”

“Of course I do.”

Back in high school, Li Xiaoyi had secretly taken Lin Shuang to his house to play several times. The Li family lived in a three-story duplex; Li Xiaoyi’s room took up the entire third floor—a large suite with a bedroom, study, and bathroom all connected, and even an indoor basketball hoop.

Because the room was so spacious, Lin Shuang had left many of her things there back then—a thick couple’s photo album and camera, her textbooks, her yearbook, and the like.

“The house still holds a lot of old memories.” He gazed at her tenderly. “Maybe once you see it, you’ll understand.”

She was quite forthright, and understood the little scheme in his mind: “You want me to come visit? Then pick a time.”

After finishing their coffee, Lin Shuang went straight to Li Xiaoyi’s house with him.

Li Xiaoyi’s mother was home, and seeing him bring Lin Shuang through the door, she was clearly taken aback.

The floor of the Li household was cluttered with moving boxes—clearly, after Li Xiaoyi’s father had passed away, the house had become too empty, and his mother was packing to move to Linjiang to live with him.

“Auntie, it’s been so many years.”

Lin Shuang came bearing gifts, her smile laden with meaning, and just a touch of mischief. “I never expected to see you and Xiaoyi again—I really do owe it to your care back then.”

Li Xiaoyi’s mother was clearly stunned: “You two…”

Lin Shuang stood beside Li Xiaoyi, gazing at him affectionately before pressing the gift box in her hands into his arms: “This is for Auntie, Xiaoyi, could you put it away for me?”

No one had been brought home by her son in years—his mother truly hadn’t expected this turn of events, and exchanged a few stiff pleasantries with Lin Shuang.

Lin Shuang had no patience for further small talk. She shot Li Xiaoyi a look, eagerly glancing upward.

“I’m taking Shuangshuang up to look around, have a chat.” Li Xiaoyi stepped in front of Lin Shuang, and under his mother’s watchful gaze, led her straight upstairs.

Zhou Zheng couldn’t get through to Lin Shuang’s phone. His texts all sank without a trace, or received only brief replies.

[Busy.] [I’m fine.]

He patiently endured evening self-study until nearly eleven before heading home. Lin Shuang had only just gotten back moments before him—she hadn’t even changed clothes, her bag and jacket tossed onto the table.

She only glanced at him once as he came through the door, then spent the rest of the time with her head bowed over her phone, chatting—a constant stream of message alerts chiming in, clearly very busy.

Zhou Zheng’s head ached, but he said nothing, silently waiting for her to stop.

By midnight, Lin Shuang still hadn’t showered or gotten into bed. Finally she turned back: “You go ahead and sleep. I still have some things to do.”

“Can I borrow your computer? I need to look something up.”

She took her phone and computer into the room next door, even thoughtfully closing the door behind her.

Close to four in the morning, Lin Shuang finally returned to bed and fell asleep the moment she lay down.

She didn’t wake until nearly noon. There was breakfast on the table, and her phone held many messages from Li Xiaoyi.

Lin Shuang tidied herself up quickly and went out for lunch with Li Xiaoyi.

Zhou Zheng played basketball with Zhang Fan, visibly out of sorts, growing more unsettled the longer they played. Zhang Fan snatched the ball back from him several times before finally clapping him on the shoulder: “What’s going on with you? Why do you look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

Zhou Zheng kept his eyes down, saying nothing.

Zhang Fan felt something odd had been going on with these two lately, some indescribable strangeness.

The two went to the milk tea shop. Lin Shuang wasn’t there, so Zhang Fan asked Nana: “Where’s the boss?”

“The boss hasn’t had time these past few days, hasn’t been coming in,” Nana explained. “Said she’s got things going on with a friend.”

“What friend?” He turned to ask Zhou Zheng, “What’s going on between you and the boss?”

Zhou Zheng shot him a cold glance.

“That guy who played ball with you last time, who was he?” Zhang Fan caught a whiff of gossip. “Don’t tell me that’s the boss’s ex-boyfriend.”

“Yes.” After a long pause, Zhou Zheng finally forced the words out. “Her first love.”

“Damn.” Zhang Fan’s scalp prickled; he couldn’t help scratching his head. “That’s quite something!”

“The boss… could she be rekindling an old flame?”

Speaking of which, Zhou Zheng really was pitiable—finding such a beautiful girlfriend, yet living every day on edge. Thinking about it this way, his own Teacher Xie really was a treasure.

He scrolled past a photo of Li Xiaoyi on his social media feed—a dining table with two gleaming sets of silverware and blooming flowers, a slender, delicate hand visible at the edge of frame, the background blurred out, but he knew it was Lin Shuang’s hand.

The caption on the photo read: [A ten-year dream.]

Zhou Zheng stared at his phone for a long while, then got up and called Lin Shuang. She didn’t pick up.

An inexplicable restlessness stirred in him. When Lin Shuang wanted to be cruel, she could be especially cruel, utterly heedless of others’ feelings or circumstances, spoiled and self-absorbed.

Zhou Zheng silently ground his back teeth.

That night Lin Shuang again came home late. Zhou Zheng had already been waiting for her a long while, standing by the door: “I called you several times today.”

“Hm?” She didn’t take it seriously. “I replied to your message, said it wasn’t convenient for me to answer calls.”

“I sent you a lot of messages too. Can’t you tell me something?” Zhou Zheng kept his brows lowered, asking her flatly.

“Nothing worth saying.” She spoke with total confidence. “The college entrance exam is coming up soon, aren’t you busy? Why are you so free to chat with me? You should be spending more time on your students.”

“………..”

He stood straight-backed, directly in front of her, thinking it over again and again, before finally forcing the words out, one by one: “I forbid you from getting so close to him.”

Lin Shuang raised her brows: “Forbid?”

She gave a smile that was almost a smirk: “Do you have the authority to interfere with my conduct?”

“You’re my girlfriend.” His gaze darkened.

“Oh? You think that title has any binding power over me?” Lin Shuang was dismissive.

Zhou Zheng was visibly stunned, then his chest heaved as he drew a deep breath.

Anger was clearly building in him, yet he held it back, unable to let it out.

Ever since Li Xiaoyi’s return, their relationship had cooled, always as if separated by a pane of glass, unable to sense the actual warmth between them. Zhou Zheng couldn’t figure out Lin Shuang’s heart—it was as if she were a balloon, and no matter how he reached for her, he couldn’t grasp her drifting form.

But strangely, things in bed remained remarkably harmonious. Zhou Zheng was earnest, Lin Shuang’s passion ran high, clinging to him until he could barely breathe, and in the end both of them were utterly spent, Lin Shuang gritting her teeth against his shoulder.

She murmured something and fell asleep. The next morning when she woke, there was brunch on the table, dishes she liked.

Lin Shuang ate with a pout.

When she changed clothes to go out and saw the marks covering her neck, like a declaration of ownership, she still frowned and cursed: “Dog of a man.”

Zhou Zheng scrolled through several social media posts—some from Li Xiaoyi, some from other classmates he hadn’t been in touch with in ages—a science-track high school class reunion, all classmates Li Xiaoyi had been close with back then.

The organizer, of course, was Li Xiaoyi—his ability to rally people was formidable, one call and everyone answered. In a shaky video clip from inside the KTV room, Lin Shuang sat coiled beside her tall, handsome ex-boyfriend, her radiant smile stunning and unrestrained on camera.

He hadn’t received any invitation to the gathering, nor had Lin Shuang mentioned a single word about it.

Zhou Zheng brooded for a long while, then called Lin Shuang, listening to the long, monotonous ringing. After a good while, Lin Shuang’s voice finally came through, the background noise chaotic and loud.

“Where are you? When are you coming home?”

“Probably pretty late.” Lin Shuang sounded indifferent. “Don’t wait up for me, go to sleep. If it gets too late, I’ll just stay at a hotel outside for the night.”

Zhou Zheng gripped the phone tighter, his heart suddenly stabbed with pain.

“Not coming home?”

“Is that alright?” Lin Shuang laughed lightly. “I’ve had a bit to drink, not safe to drive. Staying out overnight—can you accept that?”

“Not alright” or “suit yourself”?

Zhou Zheng was silent for a long, long while, before finally finding his voice again, hoarse: “Give me the address, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Do you have time, Teacher Zhou?” She gave a soft laugh. “This kind of occasion might not really suit you.”

Her tone was airy: “If you come, how will that even be explained?”

He gripped the phone hard: “Tell me where you are.”

Lin Shuang gave him the address of the KTV.

The class reunion was lively. By the time Zhou Zheng arrived, the spacious room was full of people drinking, singing, the noise deafening—and in one moment, the whole crowd turned to look at the door.

Lin Shuang stopped fiddling with her phone, set down her glass, and gazed with unfocused eyes at the man standing in the doorway.

Most of the people inside were former classmates, and they called out greetings when they saw Zhou Zheng.

“Old classmate, long time no see.”

“Zhou Zheng, come, come, have a drink with us.”

Li Xiaoyi arched his thick brows and strode over, clapping Zhou Zheng on the shoulder: “Welcome.”

A crowd gathered round with greetings. Zhou Zheng responded briefly, his gaze landing on Lin Shuang—she cradled her cheek in her hand, watching them with soft, tender eyes, an inscrutable expression, impossible to say what she was thinking.

Zhou Zheng cut off mid-sentence, walked straight past Li Xiaoyi toward Lin Shuang, his expression calm: “Let’s go home.”

Lin Shuang looked up at him, smiling brightly: “Won’t you sit and have a drink with us?”

He gave her a long, quiet look, his eyes inexplicably cold, then draped her jacket and bag over his arm and turned to leave.

Seeing his posture, Lin Shuang pouted, stood up, and obediently followed him.

Li Xiaoyi stood off to the side, his expression complicated.

The crowd’s eyes fell on the two of them, baffled by the scene, tugging at each other’s sleeves: “What’s going on? What’s the relationship between them?”

On the drive back, Zhou Zheng said nothing, driving in silence. Lin Shuang had had a bit to drink, her cheeks flushed pink, and was in quite the mood to talk.

“Your classmates at the reunion, I heard them talk about a lot of stories from your class.” She was full of enthusiasm. “Was Principal Ding your homeroom teacher that year? You didn’t come back to class until two months into the semester? How did you end up in a study group with Li Xiaoyi later?”

“I also watched some old videos of your class’s New Year’s party and autumn class trip.” She tilted her head to look at him. “One classmate posted the class video online back then, and it actually got dug up—pretty fun. Want to see it?”

Zhou Zheng’s expression wasn’t good, his brow furrowed into a deep crease, with not the slightest interest in chatting with her.

Seeing his standoffish manner, Lin Shuang shrugged, undeterred, tossing a firecracker into the mud without a care for the splatter: “You’re so boring. Can’t you learn a thing or two from Li Xiaoyi about being interesting to talk to?”

Halfway there, a pedestrian crossed the road unexpectedly. Zhou Zheng, face stony, jammed down hard on the horn—the blaring beeps startled both the pedestrian and Lin Shuang.

She glanced at him sideways with wide eyes, saw his icy expression, and obediently shut her mouth.

The atmosphere in the car turned quite silent.

Back home, Zhou Zheng went into the bedroom, Lin Shuang trailing right behind him: “I want apple soup.”

“Can you make me some apple soup?”

He still had work to do, and said flatly: “You’re drunk. Go to sleep early.”

She leaned against the doorframe, unhappy: “You won’t make it for me?”

Zhou Zheng’s eyes stayed fixed on the computer screen, not moving an inch.

Lin Shuang fiddled with her phone for a while, head down, then went into the room, leaning over his shoulder from behind, arm braced on the chair, watching him proofread on the computer: “That workbook’s finished? How much can a book like that earn?”

“A few tens of thousands, maybe.” He didn’t even look up.

“Congratulations.”

“I want something to eat.” Lin Shuang tugged at his sleeve, interrupting his work, dragging him up out of the chair. “Go to the kitchen and make me something.”

Zhou Zheng’s face went tense, brow furrowed as he humored her unreasonableness: “I’m busy!”

“No matter how busy you are with work, am I more important?” Lin Shuang shoved him, riding on her buzz. “You used to know how to please me. Why don’t you know how today?”

He gave her a long, heavy look, then rolled up his sleeves and went into the kitchen.

The apple soup was ready quickly. Lin Shuang glanced at it, tasted a spoonful, stirring: “Not that good.”

She set the soup down, turning her face away: “Never mind, I don’t like this taste anymore, it’s boring.”

Zhou Zheng was still cleaning up the kitchen mess. Hearing this, he abruptly turned and walked past her indifferently: “Then I won’t make it anymore. Eat whatever you like from now on.”

He went back to the room, first reaching for his computer, his mind a tangled mess, his body strangely weightless and drained of strength. He wanted to sit down, yet couldn’t bring himself to.

Lin Shuang scrolled her phone, head down.

Ten minutes later, she also went into the room and saw Zhou Zheng standing by the window, his back to her, doing something she couldn’t tell.

The room was silent. Though they weren’t standing far apart, she could sense his hurt and discomfort—that emotion lived in his movements and breathing, bitter and sore.

Her heart quietly ached too.

She walked over, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissed his cheek comfortingly, offering sweetness: “Zhou Zheng, are you upset?”

Zhou Zheng turned his face away, stepping back.

She leaned in with half her body, cupping his face, seeing his brow set hard, his lips pressed pale, tears glistening faintly in his eyes—she too was momentarily stunned, gazing at him helplessly, and said softly: “Did I make my little snail spirit cry?”

“What should I do about this? I actually bullied you to this state.” She held him tighter, her voice growing gentler with each word. “Zhou Zheng… Zhou Zheng………”

She was doing it on purpose. Deliberately trying to torment him.

Hoping he would always be gentle with her, patient with her, never leave her no matter what.

Pressed so tightly against her, he felt his chest suffocating, could barely catch his breath.

Zhou Zheng closed his eyes, throat working, and rasped: “You can’t do this to me.”

“I’m not a masochist. I have a heart too, and it can hurt too.”

Her hand rose to rest on his pounding chest, and she looked up at him: “Is it hurting now? I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

Saying sorry—did that mean it was ending?

Zhou Zheng’s lips had gone pale, drained of all color, and he stared at her, asking: “Now that Li Xiaoyi’s back, are you planning to end things with me?”

Lin Shuang’s clear eyes fixed steadily on him, black and white sharply defined, glistening with moisture.

“Do you want to end it?” she asked him.

Zhou Zheng’s heart twisted like a knife, his jaw clenched hard as stone. Seeing her delicate, alluring face and enchanting eyes, his blood churned.

His lips crashed into hers, his mouth biting at her lips and the tip of her nose, biting at how thoroughly bad she was, biting at her fickleness. She winced in pain, and in that pain a fierce shiver rose in her, her glimmering eyes wide open, her heart pounding, murmuring his name indistinctly amid the tangle of lips and tongues: “Zhou Zheng………”

This kiss eventually turned into deep plunder and demand, his kiss like a violent storm, cold raindrops falling on her cheeks, leaving her eyes dazed, her heart aching, sour to the point she could barely hold herself up.

She wanted to twine around him like a vine, wanted them to stay tangled together forever, indistinguishable from one another.

In the end, Zhou Zheng held her tightly, his voice rough with effort: “If you’ve made up your mind… then let’s end it………”

He released her, stepping back.

Lin Shuang’s arms suddenly felt empty. She blinked her sore, tear-stung eyes: “Can you give me a few days? I’ll give you an answer then. Li Xiaoyi and I—there are still some things I haven’t cleared up………”

“Suit yourself.”

Zhou Zheng took two changes of clothes from the closet and left for Wancheng that weekend for a business trip, attending a teacher training program.

Lin Shuang stayed busy for a few days, finally retrieving from Li Xiaoyi’s house some of the things she’d gathered together.

He handed the items over to her, his expression unclear—whether lost or regretful.

“Thank you.”

She thanked him sincerely, then turned and left, without the slightest hesitation, harboring no lingering attachment toward him.

These past days together, they’d talked about many things from the past, dug up many shared memories—he’d hoped to stir even the faintest ripple in her heart, but in the end he had simply done another man’s bidding.

Li Xiaoyi watched her retreating figure, standing dazed for a long while.

Those items—Lin Shuang looked them over again and again, then stuffed them into the trunk and returned to the milk tea shop.

School was still in session. She stood by the roadside and quietly smoked a cigarette, gazing at the beauty across the street, the lush, freshly leafed trees, the corner of the school building peeking out from beneath the eaves.

Lin Shuang waited a long while, checking the time repeatedly, the minutes crawling by so slowly, the dismissal bell taking forever to ring.

At long last, her patience exhausted, unable to wait any longer, she crossed the street, exchanged a word with Old Zhang at the security booth, and entered the quiet campus.

Her heartbeat kept time with her footsteps, thudding relentlessly.

The senior year building was on the east side. She walked along the once-familiar path, calling Zhou Zheng partway there, but the call went unanswered—he was probably in class. Her phone had his schedule for this semester saved; she stood at the base of the building, checked which class he was teaching, took a light breath, and climbed the stairs of the building she knew so well.

Lin Shuang deliberately slowed her pace, the crisp click of her heels muffled beneath the sound of lessons being taught, as she walked down the long corridor, stopping before a classroom whose door stood ajar.

Inside, a young teacher’s voice carried—neither rushed nor slow, clear and measured.

She raised her hand and knocked on the classroom door, took a breath, and pushed the door open, meeting the countless curious, fresh faces before her, her gaze sliding slowly to the man at the podium, her tone composed: “Zhou Zheng, borrow a few minutes of your time.”

Lin Shuang’s voice carried real confidence, sweet and pleasing, as she stood in the doorway, her figure slender and graceful, radiant all over.

Sixty pairs of eyes in the classroom stared straight at her, and murmuring broke out.

She had never once come to the school looking for him before.

Zhou Zheng’s gaze landed on her; he froze for a moment, stopped the lesson, brushed the chalk dust from his hands, and stepped down from the podium.

The classroom instantly erupted into noise, gossip-hungry students crowding at the doors and windows to peer out.

The two of them walked some distance away, stopping in a quiet corner of the hallway.

Several days without seeing each other—hard to say exactly what had changed, but she seemed to shine even brighter now.

Lin Shuang pressed her red lips together, took a deep breath, her tone calm.

“Zhou Zheng, my impulse only lasts a short while. I’m asking you—do you want to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau with me?”

Zhou Zheng was stunned, staring at her, his lips moving: “Go where?”

“The Civil Affairs Bureau, to get a marriage license.” She answered with complete certainty. “Let’s get married? Will you marry me?”