From the book: Falling into Our Passionate Love

That night, absence made the heart grow fonder. In their youthful vigor, their performance was extraordinary, tearing through one thing after another. Even until Xu Zhi’s college graduation, they never broke that record. That day, they shamelessly carried on from dusk till late into the night. But it was only that night when they both went wild. After their frenzy, Chen Luzhou bathed Xu Zhi and waited for her to fall asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, covering her with a blanket, then leaned against the headboard, unable to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering.

He wasn’t particularly worried about anything else, just afraid that they might be so unlucky as to create a life. Facing Old Xu’s wrath would be nothing compared to the harm it could do to a young woman. But in matters like this, no matter the stage, once it’s done, any remedial action is like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted. So, he was always extremely cautious, dutifully using protection even during foreplay, never letting Xu Zhi take any pills.

However, these things are never foolproof. Even with protection, the probability of preventing pregnancy is only 98%. Who knows if your girlfriend falls into the remaining 2%?

So, in this matter, Chen Luzhou remained restrained afterward. Although he rented an apartment off-campus in his sophomore year, Xu Zhi mostly stayed in the school dormitory, only visiting on occasional weekends. On average, they were intimate only once or twice a month. It wasn’t realistic to abstain completely.

If he wasn’t worried about Xu Zhi overthinking things, he would have considered abstaining until marriage.

Fortunately, Xu Zhi remained safe and sound until her graduation. Chen Luzhou had never felt more grateful to the heavens.

He never considered himself a lucky person. Before meeting Xu Zhi, all his accolades came from others. Abandoned as a child, he always wanted to prove himself worthy, striving for perfection in every aspect. He hoped that one day when he achieved success, he might encounter his birth parents who had abandoned him. He wanted them to regret abandoning such an excellent son. Then, he would tell them without hesitation that it was too late, he would never forgive them.

However, fate wasn’t kind to him. Every step was beyond his expectations, including Fu Yuqing’s appearance.

Because Xu Zhi didn’t want to quarrel with Fu Yuqing, putting her in a difficult position.

He couldn’t even bring himself to hate Lian Hui. Lian Hui had given up everything for him, and during the years he was adopted by the Chen family, Lian Hui’s care for him was genuine.

So when he learned the truth, Chen Luzhou felt somewhat devastated. All his pre-planned scenarios and opening lines became useless, like punching a pillow. The only obsession he had harbored for so many years could only be digested internally. From childhood to adulthood, fate had never truly satisfied him.

Until that summer of his senior year in high school when he met Xu Zhi.

Whether it was Xu Zhi who unhesitatingly took out her phone on their first barbecue night saying she wouldn’t let the police wrongly accuse him, or the Xu Zhi who told him in the movie theater that he was a poor sport, or the Xu Zhi who gave him a birthday gift saying it was for six-year-old Chen Luzhou.

A girl who could hit all his sweet spots completely and consistently.

Chen Luzhou believed he wasn’t lacking in love, whether in the orphanage as a child or later when adopted by Chen Jishen. What he lacked was reciprocation.

Love without reciprocation is like black on a white dog, a rose in a sewer cover – to others, just an excessive and abrupt romance.

It was Xu Zhi who gave him complete satisfaction.

Having someone who could understand his clumsy attempts at romance, and offer reciprocal, meticulous love, was truly addictive.

Addictive, Chen Luzhou thought with a headache.

So addictive that even if Xu Zhi called out someone else’s name in her sleep, he found it thrilling.

Later, Xu Zhi did call out a name.

It was unclear, but Chen Luzhou heard it several times. He wanted to smother her with a pillow. In all their time together, he had never heard her call his name in her sleep.

After mumbling in her sleep, Xu Zhi woke up groggily, somewhat aware of what had happened. She tried to explain, “I think I’ve been under too much stress lately. I keep talking in my sleep. Did I disturb you?”

Chen Luzhou, lying on the bed with one arm over his eyes, heard her trembling, uncertain explanation and chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you. Your exams are coming up soon, I’ll let you live a bit longer.”

Xu Zhi immediately tensed up, glancing at him nervously, “What did I say?”

With his arm still lazily covering his eyes, he sighed miserably, not wanting to engage with her.

“You… called out a man’s name.”

“That’s impossible,” Xu Zhi instantly became more alert, propping herself up on her elbow and leaning down to kiss him, “It must have been you, right?”

Chen Luzhou turned his head away unhappily, not letting her touch him, “No, don’t kiss me. I’m angry.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I’ll record it next time and let you listen. You can reflect on whether our relationship has run its course.”

The next day, when Xu Zhi heard her incessant sleep-talking, she collapsed laughing in Chen Luzhou’s arms, “You scared me! It was I.M. Pei. I thought it was someone else.”

I.M. Pei’s name should be familiar to anyone studying architecture. Even Chen Luzhou, who wasn’t studying architecture, knew that he designed the Fragrant Hill Hotel in Beijing.

Chen Luzhou turned off the recording and casually tossed his phone onto the coffee table. He held her tightly in his arms, exasperated, the veins on his hands standing out clearly from anger like green mountain ranges disappearing into clear rivers.

There was a sense of crisp violence.

“Who else? Who the hell else do you have?”

Xu Zhi laughed as she tried to dodge, “Really, no one else. Chen Luzhou, I only love you — okay, okay, I was wrong. Stop it, I need to draw now.”

“Draw my ass.”

Xu Zhi pinched his face, her smile stretching to her ears, “Why do I love you so much?”

“Love my ass.”

“Are you done yet?”

He finally smiled, pinching her face and coaxing in a low voice, “Do you know how tiring it is to sleep next to you? Not only do you talk in your sleep, but you also grind your teeth. What’s wrong with you? Still grinding your teeth at twenty-something?”

“Who grinds their teeth?”

“You do.”

“Impossible. Chen Luzhou, I don’t love you anymore, don’t force yourself…” Xu Zhi leaned back in his arms, righteously throwing his words back at him.

“Force yourself to love me a bit longer,” he said, looking down at her with a smile.

“Get lost,” Xu Zhi kicked him angrily as she stood up. “I’m not joking around now. I need to go finish my drawings. My senior just messaged me several times urging me to hurry. Oh, and the flowers I ordered online should arrive today. Can you check for the package later? They’ll be delivered weekly from now on.”

Chen Luzhou smiled as he rested on the sofa for a while, then closed the laptop on the coffee table, also preparing to leave. He casually pointed his chin towards the balcony and said, “They’re being taken care of.”

“You’re going out too? Don’t you have any classes this afternoon? Are you going to play basketball?”

“I’m going to Professor Liu’s sandbox lab to submit a project. I’ll drive you first.”

“Okay.”

Chen Luzhou had bought a car in his senior year. At that time, Xu Zhi was working on some design projects with her seniors outside of school. It was early 2020, and the COVID-19 pandemic suddenly broke out. Workers stopped working, and universities ended their semesters early. Beijing had cases, but Qingyi still had zero cases at that time. Chen Luzhou, Xu Zhi, and their friends didn’t go back home that year, to celebrate the New Year where they were.

But at that time, no one expected the pandemic to be so severe, lasting until April or May, with many universities still not reopening. They had online classes for several months. Xu Zhi’s architecture program was five years long, while Chen Luzhou was approaching graduation. He had already secured his postgraduate position at the end of his junior year, joining Professor Liu’s lab. Their graduation ceremony was canceled. They didn’t return to school in the meantime.

The two stayed in that apartment for nearly half a year. At first, they had to hide it from Old Xu, but as he made more video calls, he gradually discovered something was amiss. Initially, he would constantly warn Chen Luzhou sternly over the phone, “You better have some self-control.” Chen Luzhou naturally did, accepting the warnings without argument. Later, as time went on, Old Xu realized it wasn’t Chen Luzhou who lacked self-control. So, he started making video calls to both of them every other night. During that period, when they were studying, they would place a phone in the middle of the desk, connected to a video call.

On the screen was Old Xu’s stern, supervising face, occasionally letting out a few robust shouts: “What are you doing! Xu Zhi, focus on your books. Why do you keep looking at Chen Luzhou?” As he spoke, he would contentedly peel an orange segment and pop it into his mouth. “Look at Chen Luzhou, see how focused he is.”

Xu Zhi: “…”

Someone was holding back laughter, pretending to turn a page of “Banking and Currency Theory,” adding insult to injury, “Yeah, why do you keep looking at me?”

Xu Zhi whispered, “You’re asking for it. Who wears dress pants to study at home?”

He innocently let out an “Ah,” as if she was wrongly accusing him, barely containing his laughter, “Come on, I told you yesterday not to throw all my sweatpants in the washing machine. If I had something else to wear, I wouldn’t be wearing these.”

Xu Zhi: “…Dog.”

However, when work and school resumed later, although the pandemic was under control, it hadn’t completely disappeared. The world had changed, with everyone out and about wearing masks obediently. During that time, Xu Zhi was running around construction sites with her seniors for projects, taking crowded buses and subways every morning. Old Xu would occasionally send him information about infection rates on Beijing’s public transport routes. In the second month, Chen Luzhou used all his savings and borrowed money from Lian Hui to buy a car, not daring to let Xu Zhi squeeze onto public transport anymore.

…

“Wait, let me change my clothes,” Chen Luzhou said, taking the car keys and walking towards the bedroom.

The two walked towards the door, as usual, chatting casually.

“Should we get a dog, Chen Jiaojiao?”

“Do you have time to walk it?”

“Do you not have time to walk it?”

Chen Luzhou: “…”

Sunlight quietly spread across the room. It was a beautiful day, full of spring vitality. The door was gently closed, voices growing fainter but still full of laughter. The promise of a beautiful future seemed to be written in these fragments of conversation.

“Hey, I helped you take care of the flowers, and now I have to take care of a dog too? Should I go get an animal care certificate? Then I could even raise a pig.”

Implying something, the girl pinched him, “Chen Luzhou, if you don’t love me anymore, don’t force yourself.”

He laughed despite the pain, “What kind? Not an Akita, it reminds me too much of Little Eight,” he paused, then said, “Not a poodle either, they always hump people’s legs. It’d be embarrassing to walk it.”

The girl laughed, “A Bichon Frise! Didn’t you give me a wool felt one? It’s so cute, I want to raise a real one.”

“Alright, I’ll see if I can pick one up on the way back.”

Xu Zhi: …??