Xu Sui finally agreed to become Sheng Yanjia’s tutor. When going to class on the weekend, she dressed up specially, wearing a white halter knit top paired with blue jeans that accentuated her curves, looking youthful and radiant. She was combing her hair in front of the mirror, revealing a section of her waistline.

“Wow, Suisui, you’re practically the spokesperson for pure and innocent girls. I want to hit on you,” Hu Qianxi pounced on her.

Xu Sui tied her hair in a bun, her forehead full and her eyes slightly upturned at the corners, creating beautiful and alluring curves. She dodged Hu Qianxi’s playful attack while packing her things.

“Sure, but you’d have to choose between me and your idol,” Xu Sui laughed.

“Then I still only want to sleep with my idol,” Hu Qianxi gave her decisive reply.

After fooling around with Hu Qianxi, Xu Sui packed up and left. This time she was smart—she bought motion sickness patches and stuck them behind her ears before taking three bus transfers to reach No. 79 Amber Lane.

When Xu Sui arrived at Sheng Yanjia’s house, the curly-haired little boy was still playing games. Seeing his teacher arrive, afraid she might tattle on him, Sheng Yanjia reluctantly put down his game controller.

Surprisingly, during the hour-long lesson, Sheng Yanjia’s cooperation level was quite high. Xu Sui first gave him a test paper to assess his foundation, then taught specifically targeting his weak areas.

He was fairly cooperative and didn’t make a fuss, but when the second period began and it was time to do practice papers, Sheng Yanjia started sighing and his attention was clearly unfocused. So this was where the problem lay.

Xu Sui gently tapped the little curly head with the test paper: “You’re so young and already sighing. Hurry up and do the problems.”

“Teacher Xu, you don’t understand. Our generation is filled with studying all day long. Adults have no idea where our childhood has gone,” Sheng Yanjia said with an old soul’s maturity.

Xu Sui asked him: “So where is your childhood?”

“In Zelda, Westworld, and such,” the little curly answered without hesitation.

…

Xu Sui glanced at the time and said: “If you can finish this one-hour test paper in 40 minutes, I’ll play games with you for twenty minutes.”

“I’ll help you beat levels,” Xu Sui added.

“Hmph, in this world, when it comes to gaming skills, I only admire my Brother Jingze,” the little curly said defiantly.

Xu Sui remained unstimulated, her tone flat: “Really? Then starting today, you’ll have a second person to admire.”

Sheng Yanjia was provoked instead. He forced himself to concentrate and quickly finished the test paper, his tone challenging: “How about it, teacher? Want to play a round?”

“Little brat, it’s not class dismissal time yet. I only promised to play games with you, but not right now,” Xu Sui said.

The little curly immediately slumped down dejectedly. Xu Sui quickly graded his paper, then explained the problem-solving methods and highlighted key points for him.

Xu Sui probably understood the principle of “望梅止渴” (looking at plums to quench thirst)—first giving hope, then pushing Sheng Yanjia forward. Indeed, after two hours, Sheng Yanjia felt he had thoroughly digested all these previously confusing knowledge points.

He couldn’t help but admire Xu Sui a bit.

“Teacher, it’s time to fulfill your promise,” Sheng Yanjia was fixated on his games.

Sheng Yanjia immediately turned on the Switch and projected it. He handed Xu Sui a controller and asked with the remote: “Teacher, what game do you want to play?”

“Super Smash Bros,” Xu Sui said weakly, parched from teaching. “Could you pour your teacher a glass of water?”

As a little boy, Sheng Yanjia was incredibly considerate and directly brought in a basket of snacks. Xu Sui picked a bag of milk and a sea salt cheese bread to fill her stomach.

The two sat on the soft carpet and began their gaming journey. Just ten minutes into the game, Xu Sui led him through mazes and adventures with incredible smoothness. Sheng Yanjia conceded with one word: “Respect.”

In the middle of gaming, Xu Sui held the controller, looking at the screen and asking seemingly casually: “Why don’t I see your brother?”

Sheng Yanjia turned his head and asked warily: “Which brother are you asking about?”

Xu Sui’s heartbeat skipped. She pretended to be calm, looking straight ahead: “Just asking casually about either.”

“Oh, I don’t know about them. My real brother comes back often, but Brother Jingze is unpredictable. When he’s dating someone, he rarely comes back, but when he’s single, he comes back more frequently,” Sheng Yanjia answered.

Xu Sui sighed inwardly.

Xu Sui was excellent, leading Sheng Yanjia through adventures all the way. Sheng Yanjia loved gaming and being carried by others. When the game screen showed victory, he excitedly high-fived Xu Sui.

She was starving and quickly bit into a piece of bread.

As Sheng Yanjia was using the remote to enter the next round, there came a knock at the door. Without looking back, he responded: “Come in.”

Sheng Nanzhou pushed the door open, with Zhou Jingze standing beside him, hands in his pockets.

“Bro!” Sheng Yanjia threw down the game controller and walked toward the door.

Xu Sui turned around in shock. At that moment, she was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, a bag of milk between her lips, bread crumbs around her mouth, completely disheveled.

Sheng Nanzhou opened his arms, but Sheng Yanjia threw himself at Zhou Jingze instead. The former sneered: “You should just change your surname.”

“Bro, you don’t know how amazing Teacher Xu is. She’s incredible at gaming, the Super Smash Bros champion,” Sheng Yanjia began sharing their achievements.

Sheng Nanzhou looked surprised: “Little sister, who would have thought? You look so well-behaved but you play games.”

Zhou Jingze glanced over with his usual casual tone: “Like playing games?”

From the moment he entered, Xu Sui looked somewhat panicked. She hastily wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand. The bread she’d been messily nibbling on the table—she couldn’t throw it away, so she could only tightly grasp it and hide it behind her back.

“Just when study pressure is high, gaming is stress-relieving,” Xu Sui tried hard to maintain surface composure, her eyelashes naturally curled upward. “You can find me when you want to play.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Xu Sui regretted them. What was she saying?

“Teacher, you’re being biased!” Sheng Yanjia protested.

Sheng Nanzhou slapped Sheng Yanjia: “What else? Everyone in this room except you doesn’t have academic pressure.”

Sheng Yanjia was rendered speechless. Xu Sui’s face reddened, feeling she’d lost too much face here. She hastily packed her things to leave.

Xu Sui hugged her textbooks and hurried downstairs. As soon as she walked out the front door, she saw Aunt Sheng and said: “Aunt Sheng, class is over. I’ll be going now.” Xu Sui greeted her.

Aunt Sheng smiled warmly: “Stay for dinner.”

“No, I—” Xu Sui instinctively refused.

But Aunt Sheng, though thin, was strong and directly pressed Xu Sui back into the courtyard, so enthusiastic that she had no ability to resist.

So Xu Sui was kept for dinner. Father Sheng was still at the company handling important matters and needed to work overtime, so he didn’t come home for dinner. At the dining table, besides Zhou Jingze, there were also the two treasures—the Sheng brothers.

After dinner, it was already past eight o’clock. Xu Sui thanked Aunt Sheng again and prepared to go back. Aunt Sheng glanced at the pitch-black sky outside and said: “After eating, it’s already this late. I’m not comfortable with you going back alone. Nanzhou, you drive Teacher Xu back.”

Sheng Nanzhou raised his hand to scratch his head: “But I took my car in for maintenance.”

Xu Sui looked uncomfortable. Just as she was about to say “no need,” Zhou Jingze bent down, grabbed the car keys from the table, and lifted his eyelids: “Let’s go, I’ll drive you.”

“Look at my memory, I forgot you two are from neighboring schools to Teacher Xu’s. From now on, when you come home on weekends, you can give her a ride,” Aunt Sheng slapped her forehead and instructed, “You boy, make sure to safely deliver her to school for me.”

Zhou Jingze walked with both hands in his pockets. Without looking back, he freed one hand to make an OK gesture. Who knows which matter he was agreeing to.

Xu Sui hugged her books and followed behind him step by step. She discovered Zhou Jingze’s house was right next to Sheng Nanzhou’s—No. 80 Amber Lane.

Compared to the Sheng family’s brightly lit house, Zhou Jingze’s grand villa with its large grounds didn’t have a single light on. It was eerily quiet, presenting a somewhat desolate and lonely atmosphere.

A black motorcycle was parked in front of his house. Zhou Jingze walked over and tossed her a blue helmet. Xu Sui caught it with both hands, almost getting knocked over.

She struggled to undo the buckle and put it on. The helmet was so big it covered her entire face, not even revealing her eyes.

Standing to the side, Zhou Jingze was amused. He lifted the helmet off the top of Xu Sui’s head. Xu Sui’s face was flushed from being stuffed in there, and she was now puffing her cheeks, breathing heavily.

“Wait for me a moment,” Zhou Jingze said.

Zhou Jingze walked into his house. The motion-sensor lights came on, and soon he came back out with a bright yellow helmet in his hand.

“Try this one,” Zhou Jingze handed it to her.

The helmet was obviously a size smaller. When Xu Sui put it on, it fit perfectly. Wearing the bright yellow helmet, her deer-like eyes were clear and bright, but she had a Marvel pattern on top of her head.

The usually well-behaved her now looked somewhat fiercely cute.

Zhou Jingze looked at her, unable to suppress the smile on his face. Xu Sui felt something was odd and asked: “Is something wrong?”

“This helmet is Sheng Yanjia’s size. He bought it in sixth grade when he was Marvel’s biggest fan,” Zhou Jingze’s voice was low, tinged with laughter.

“I’m 165 centimeters tall,” Xu Sui quietly defended herself.

Just as Zhou Jingze was about to ride off, he noticed something tugging at his pant leg. Looking back, he found his German Shepherd had somehow snuck out and followed him.

“Mind if I smoke?” Zhou Jingze asked.

Xu Sui nodded. She watched Zhou Jingze walk to the base of the wall, take out a cigarette from the pack. He tapped the cigarette against the pack with his fingers, then bit it between his lips, lowered his head and cupped his hands around the flame. Smoke rolled out from his thin lips.

The German Shepherd lay obediently at Zhou Jingze’s feet. He removed the cigarette from his mouth, crouched down, and his large hand stroked its head. The dog licked his palm in response.

Under the dim streetlight, Zhou Jingze’s expression was relaxed. For that moment, the rebellious edge completely disappeared from his face, and Xu Sui saw gentleness there.

“What’s its name?” Xu Sui couldn’t help asking.

“Kratos, one of the ancient Greek gods of war,” Zhou Jingze said with a cigarette between his lips, laughing until ash fell at his feet.

However, this relaxed atmosphere didn’t last long. Zhou Jingze’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to look, and his expression immediately changed.

He didn’t answer, but the phone kept ringing persistently. Zhou Jingze pressed answer, too lazy for pleasantries, his tone ice-cold: “What is it?”

Father Zhou was taken aback and somewhat displeased, forcibly suppressing his anger: “Come back for dinner next week. It’s my birthday, and it’s a good time for the family to be happy together…”

Hearing the words “the family,” Zhou Jingze’s expression flashed with gloom, his eyes showing malice as he directly shot back: “I’m busy. Save the father-son bonding time for your son.”

Without waiting for a response, Zhou Jingze hung up directly. He gestured for Kratos to go back and stood up again. The cigarette butt was thrown on the ground and ground hard under his shoe until the last spark was extinguished.

Zhou Jingze rode the motorcycle to take Xu Sui back to school.

He was obviously in a bad mood. The wind rushed past them, and Xu Sui sat behind him. Though she couldn’t see Zhou Jingze’s expression, she knew his whole body was radiating displeasure.

Zhou Jingze drove very fast, hunched over, accelerating all the way. The fierce wind at double speed hammered against their faces, and the scenery on both sides retreated rapidly like a movie on fast forward.

Xu Sui’s heart jumped to her throat. She had never been on such a fast ride, nervous and afraid. He rode faster and faster until Xu Sui felt everything in her vision became a blur.

She knew Zhou Jingze was venting and could only silently grip the side rails.

Zhou Jingze’s mood finally got some release. Suddenly, he felt Xu Sui behind him tense up completely. He glanced back through his helmet and saw Xu Sui’s fingertips were white from gripping the rails so tightly.

His heart stirred, like being stung by something.

Zhou Jingze unconsciously eased off the throttle and slowed down. Even he didn’t realize this was an unconscious compromise.

The speed suddenly decreased, and Xu Sui felt the hostility in him slowly disappear, returning to his previous nonchalant state. Though summer had already passed, the evening breeze was a bit cool but felt comfortable.

They had covered more than half the journey. Despite the reduced speed, he still sensed Xu Sui’s unnaturalness. Zhou Jingze’s low voice came with the wind: “Afraid of me?”

“Ah, no,” Xu Sui quickly replied.

It’s just that being with you makes me too nervous. I always want to say something to you but I’m afraid you won’t like it, Xu Sui thought to herself.

“Then why are you so tense?” Zhou Jingze asked emotionlessly, squinting ahead. “Going downhill now, hold tight.”

That was his favorite stretch of road—it always gave him a feeling of life accelerating while belonging to him alone.

Xu Sui carefully reached out and grasped the corner of his shirt. Zhou Jingze took her diving downward, his broad back especially prominent with his hunched shoulder blades. Xu Sui smelled the tobacco scent on him, along with a slightly bitter basil fragrance, sharp and unique, gradually filling her senses.

A gust of evening wind blew past, disheveling Xu Sui’s hair. A strand rebelliously stuck to his nape, intimate and uncontrolled.

Xu Sui stared at the pale blue veins on his nape, reached out her hand, and very carefully hooked the hair away, but her fingertip accidentally touched his skin before she quickly withdrew her hand.

He shouldn’t have noticed, right?

The light brush felt like a feather’s touch. Zhou Jingze gripped the motorcycle handlebars, staring straight ahead, and blinked once.

At the moment of going downhill, Xu Sui was amazed to discover that the streetlights on both sides of the road lit up one by one as if they had sensors, the light floating like a suddenly illuminated galaxy in the universe.

The galaxy was beautiful, and she was in the center of the universe with the person she secretly liked.

Suddenly, due to a turn, Xu Sui was thrown forward by inertia and crashed into his back, her whole body pressing against him. Now it was Zhou Jingze on the motorcycle whose body stiffened. He felt Xu Sui’s soft cheek against his back, along with the girl’s soft chest, still round in shape.

Zhou Jingze’s throat suddenly felt itchy.

Xu Sui immediately straightened up, saying frantically: “Sorry.”

Zhou Jingze didn’t answer immediately. His tongue pressed against his lower jaw as he laughed lazily: “How well-behaved. Xu Sui, I’m the one taking advantage of you—why are you apologizing?”

“Then do you want to apologize to me?”

Zhou Jingze chuckled but didn’t answer, continuing to drive forward.

After reaching the school gate, Xu Sui got off and removed the helmet to return it to him, looking at him: “Thank you.”

Zhou Jingze was still on the motorcycle, pulled out his phone to check messages—all of them from Aunt Sheng showing concern for Xu Sui. As if remembering something, he lifted his eyelids: “By the way, you can find me for weekend classes from now on. If I’m free to go back, I can give you a ride.”

“Great,” Xu Sui’s eyes lit up. She asked: “Which class are you in at Flight Academy? I can come find you then…”

Zhou Jingze unlocked his phone and handed it over casually: “To save trouble, add me on WeChat.”

On her way back to the dorm, Xu Sui felt like she was dreaming. She had actually gotten Zhou Jingze’s WeChat. In high school, their class had a QQ group, and back then people added friends in batches. She had mixed in and added Zhou Jingze, but they had never talked.

He rarely posted updates, but Xu Sui always looked. Later in senior year when WeChat first appeared, Zhou Jingze stopped using QQ, only using it for games. Xu Sui completely lost contact with him then.

Xu Sui walked through the dorm entrance in high spirits. Suddenly, the orange cat darted out from the bushes, meowing at her. Xu Sui knew it was hungry again and ran to the shop to buy ham sausage and milk.

The kitten lay in Xu Sui’s palm eating the ham sausage. When finished, it looked up with amber eyes and licked Xu Sui’s palm once. She smiled until her eyes curved, took out her phone and snapped a photo of its little paw.

After returning to the dorm, Xu Sui quickly showered, brushed her teeth, and got into bed with her phone. Lying in bed, she logged into WeChat. Zhou Jingze appeared in her contact list.

Zhou Jingze’s profile picture was his German Shepherd. Looking at his Moments, there were very few posts—just a handful of landscape photos.

The screen reflected a conflicted face. Xu Sui changed his contact name to Zhou Jingze, then frowned, feeling it was too obvious and afraid others might see. Finally, she changed it to: zjz.

ZJZ—this way no one would know. It was her own secret.

Xu Sui repeatedly looked at Zhou Jingze’s chat window, which showed a system message.

“He is now your friend, come chat!”

“He is now your friend, come chat!”

Xu Sui’s heartbeat sped up abnormally, afraid the screen would suddenly show a new message. She typed “good night” in the chat box then deleted it, re-edited “I’ve arrived safely, thank you for tonight”—but Zhou Jingze hadn’t said to message him when she arrived, so thinking of this, she deleted it again.

Finally, Xu Sui posted to Moments, with a photo of the cat’s little paw she took downstairs, captioned: Hi~

After posting, Xu Sui exited WeChat, looked at tomorrow’s class schedule. Her phone showed class group messages, so she clicked in to check and noticed the red notification dot for Moments.

She opened it and her breathing stopped. She widened her eyes to confirm, hardly believing it.

Five minutes ago, Zhou Jingze had liked her post.