On the morning of New Year’s Day, Zhou Zheng quietly returned to the village.

The weeds by the roadside still held a bit of green, dewdrops glistening at the base of their soft leaves. He stopped and took a photo.

When his grandmother saw him come home, her wrinkled face bloomed like a chrysanthemum, and she asked with a smile: “Where did you have your reunion dinner last night? Whose girl is she? Why didn’t you bring her back to meet us — it’s the New Year, wouldn’t it be nice to all come back and eat together…”

“What does she look like? Find grandma a photo to look at.”

Zhou Zheng coaxed his grandmother: “Grandma, she’s just an ordinary friend. Something came up last night that held me up a bit.”

“Our A-Zheng has someone on his mind now too.” His grandmother held his hand, wiping tears from her eyes. “A-Zheng, get married soon — Grandma’s getting old, my days are numbered, and you’re not young anymore either. Your parents are waiting to see it too.”

Zhou Zheng said nothing, and put his arms around his grandmother’s stooped back.

Grandmother and grandson went into the room to burn incense — this had originally been Zhou Zheng’s parents’ room, and now held the memorial tablets for Zhou Zheng’s parents and grandfather. Every first and fifteenth of the lunar month, and on holidays, they always burned incense and made offerings, to bless the family.

The village was lively that day, with households visiting each other for New Year’s greetings. Zhou Zheng went next door to pay respects to his second uncle’s family; his uncle and aunt, already knowing about the night before, teased him with smiles too. Zhou Feng and Zhou Xue were both in their room on their phones. They received their New Year’s money envelopes from Zhou Zheng — Zhou Feng bounced happily onto Zhou Zheng, delighted, while Zhou Xue twisted away, refusing: “I’m already in college and working part-time, I don’t need New Year’s money.”

“Don’t give it to me, then.” Zhou Feng laughed and reached to grab it. “Brother Zheng gave it, I want it.”

“Zhou Feng, are you obsessed with money or something? If it’s not yours, why do you want it?” Zhou Xue said sharply, snatching it and stuffing it back into Zhou Zheng’s arms before turning and heading upstairs.

Her expression was flat, giving nothing away, but Zhou Zheng, who had raised her since she was little, knew she was quite unhappy underneath.

Zhou Zheng followed Zhou Xue upstairs, coaxing her gently: “Xiao Xue, what’s actually wrong?”

“Why didn’t you come home last night? Grandma said you were with a girl — was it that one from the milk tea shop?” She glared at him coldly.

Zhou Zheng didn’t deny it.

“Brother, there are girls like that at my school too.” Zhou Xue stamped her foot anxiously. “She doesn’t even like you! She’s never going to like you! She’s just using you — the kind of people they like, the kind they like are…”

Zhou Xue was too thin-skinned to get out the harsh words.

“I know.” Zhou Zheng patted his sister’s head, his tone gentle, comforting her. “You really don’t need to worry about me. I know my own limits.”

He turned and went downstairs, back to his own home.

In the middle of the village, a fire pit was set up in front of the ancestral hall, with several mahjong tables arranged around it. When Shunzai heard from Zhou Feng that Zhou Zheng was home, he slipped away from the mahjong table in a flash.

Zhou Zheng was upstairs at his own house, working on his desktop computer, when he heard the slap-slap of slippers on the floor and knew it was Shunzai.

“A-Zheng, when did you get back?”

“This morning.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve driven to pick you up.”

“I took the early bus back.” Zhou Zheng looked up from the screen, glancing at him. “How late did you play mahjong? Were you even able to get up?”

“Didn’t break up till past four. Won over two hundred bucks.” Shunzai scratched the back of his head with a grin, and then started gossiping mysteriously: “I know all about it now, you know — Miss Lin…”

“That night on Christmas, I already knew something was off between you two.” Shunzai’s big hand landed on Zhou Zheng’s shoulder, waggling his eyebrows lecherously. “A-Zheng, not bad — Miss Lin is no ordinary beauty…”

Zhou Zheng didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the computer screen, expression blank — or rather, expressionless.

Shunzai remembered his actual business and pulled up a chair: “Bro, come on, give me your account number, I’ll pay you back.”

“You’ve got money now?”

“Been driving my route all year, worked myself half to death, plus the harvest at home — managed to save up a bit.”

“I’m not in a rush for it, you can wait a bit longer.”

“No way, if I keep dragging it out I’ll be holding you up — haven’t you noticed the past two years, every time I run into your grandma I bolt faster than a dog.”

Zhou Zheng stopped his mouse, pulled open a drawer, took out a bank card, and set it on the table.

A few minutes later, a text came through — a hundred thousand deposited.

“Paid back fifty thousand last year, a hundred thousand this year — a hundred fifty thousand total. Still owe you fifty thousand — give me a few more months, I’ll scrape it together and pay you back.”

“No rush.”

Shunzai patted Zhou Zheng’s shoulder, sincerely grateful: “Thanks, bro.”

“It’s nothing, no big deal.”

Shunzai’s father was in poor health, the family short on labor, and his income in the village was low too. For years they’d lived in a rickety, dangerous old house; a couple years back the village had pushed a new rural development initiative, tearing down the old house to rebuild it as a proper building. With no savings at home, Shunzai had borrowed two hundred thousand from Zhou Zheng bit by bit over time.

“In a couple days my aunt’s taking me to a blind date, over in the village by the mountain hollow, not far.” Shunzai nudged Zhou Zheng. “Want to come along with me?”

Now that the house his family had built looked decent enough, and they even had a car, and with a bit more savings put aside, Shunzai finally had the nerve to go out and look for a partner.

“I… might not have time.” Zhou Zheng leaned back in his chair, hands resting on the armrests, eyes lowered. “I’m on duty at school — I’ll probably head back to the city in a couple days.”

“Never mind then — if I bring you along and the girl doesn’t take a liking to me but takes a liking to you instead, that’d be a real headache.” Shunzai rubbed his chin. “You go on and do your thing.”

Lin Shuang thought that, when it came to flirting, Teacher Zhou of Beiquan High School was a man of few words and reserved manner — in other words, a boring, straight-as-steel type of man.

And what she found most nauseating was when a man’s opening line in chat was —

【Are you there?】

But Zhou Zheng clearly surprised her a little. He didn’t like to say much, but liked to send her a photo every so often.

Wildflowers and weeds by the roadside, catching fish in the creek, digging lotus roots out of the mud, roasting eggs, sweet potatoes, and chestnuts over a bonfire, climbing hills to see the scenery.

Was he showing her some kind of rural resort? Or some kind of countryside travel channel?

Please. These days even the trendy young men in the villages don’t live like that anymore.

Lin Shuang perfunctorily replied with a smiley face, and casually snapped a photo of a mahjong table in return.

She was at her aunt’s place, playing mahjong with company.

A few hours later, Lin Shuang got up from the mahjong table, opened her phone to check WeChat, and found Zhou Zheng had sent two videos.

The phone was being held by someone unknown, the angle low and shaky, with children’s voices and laughter off-screen; in the frame was a mahjong table, the tiles arranged in a domino-style spiral, and a young man’s soft laugh: “Watch closely now, I’m about to start.”

At the edge of frame, the man’s hand gave a light flick, and the mahjong tiles fell in a chain, one after another, toppling down in sequence, while the kids around cheered enthusiastically, clapping and shrieking.

The second video was an edited photo montage set to music, showing the mahjong tiles arranged into creative patterns — a castle, animals, flowers and plants, blocky little figures — ending on a frame that froze on a heart-shaped pattern.

The pattern in the photo was arranged a bit crookedly, full of childlike charm, clearly made by a child’s hand.

After watching the videos, Lin Shuang replied.

【Teacher Zhou single-handedly transformed a wicked gambling device into an educational game — has the Education Bureau given you an award yet?】

He replied calmly.

【No, but the kids gave me some candy to eat.】

Lin Shuang took a screenshot of the final heart-shaped photo and sent it to him.

【Personally speaking, this heart-shaped pattern has a much more subdued style, inconsistent with the rest — I’d suggest cutting it from the video.】

【Not cutting it.】

She raised an eyebrow.

【Why not?】

The reply came slowly, typed out a few characters at a time.

【This one… is mine.】

Chinese really is a profound language. Lin Shuang read it twice, gave a faint smile, and didn’t reply after all.

On the third day of the New Year, Zhou Zheng headed back to the city early — he’d swapped duty days with a colleague and was on duty at the school that day.

Two teachers took turns covering the duty room. Zhou Zheng had the morning shift, went home in the afternoon to clean, and once done, went out on an errand.

When Lin Shuang saw him, she was accompanying Miao Cai on her last round of pre-wedding shopping — Miao Cai’s wedding was set for the eighth of the New Year, and they were out picking up a few last odds and ends for the new home to entertain guests.

“Shuangshuang, who are you bringing to the wedding?”

“Can’t I just come by myself?”

Miao Cai looked at her, disbelieving: “No one lately?”

“Nope.”

“What about that guy who took you to dinner last time?”

“Forgot about him.”

She walked past a display shelf and spotted someone up ahead, picking through fruits and vegetables on the shelf, a shopping cart beside him full of oil, salt, rice, flour, and other daily necessities.

Lin Shuang hadn’t known he was back in the city.

He had his head lowered, focused, lips pressed in a straight line, as serious as if he were solving a problem in class.

She’d find it a little dull — a man should be interesting first, know how to please appropriately, or at least know how to be charming, offer some illusion, give someone something to be eager about and wanting.

Zhou Zheng was a very down-to-earth, everyday sort of person.

Lin Shuang’s steps carried her past him, following Miao Cai to the other side of the shelves.

She and Miao Cai sat and chatted at a dessert shop downstairs, watching Zhou Zheng pass by the glass window carrying his shopping bags, heading to the bus stop by the road, getting on a bus, and disappearing from her view.

“Shuangshuang, what are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” She turned her head, took a sip of her coffee.

That evening, Zhou Zheng called Lin Shuang.

They’d known each other for roughly half a year now, but opportunities to actually talk on the phone were rare — mostly it was him walking into the milk tea shop, or chance encounters near the school. It seemed like he was frozen in place, fixed at that one location, the school.

His voice on the phone sounded a bit crackly, low.

“I’m back at school today, came back this morning, on duty.”

“I see.”

“How have the past few days been for you?” he asked.

“Not bad.”

“I’m out for a walk, wandering around.” He paused for a moment. “Weather’s not cold, the wind’s turned warm too.”

“Shuangshuang.” He called her name softly.

“Mm?”

“Are you home?”

“I’m home.” She was curled up at home playing games.

“I happen to be walking near your place… passing by Fountain Plaza, the fountain’s really pretty tonight — do you want to come see it?”

“Sure.” She responded to his invitation. “Where are you? I’ll come over.”

“I’m downstairs at your place.”

She walked to the window and saw someone down below, smiling and waving up at her.

“Wait a moment, I’ll come down.”

Lin Shuang changed clothes and went downstairs, and saw that his expression seemed a bit shy.

The two of them passed by the café where they’d first met on that blind date; he bought her a hot coffee to warm her hands, and the two of them sat down by the fountain.

She sipped her coffee, her expression calm, her gaze gentle too, and turned to smile at him: “You seem to have had a pretty fun few days.”

“Not bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

Zhou Zheng had never before tried to proactively chat with her, talking about his own life experiences, hobbies, and skills. The two of them actually had no common ground — none of their personal interests overlapped — and Lin Shuang had assumed this would be a tedious conversation, but instead he began telling her a folk story from his hometown — yes, the kind of legendary tale a traditional storyteller would spin out with dramatic flourish, about the battle of wits between him and an old monk at a mountain temple near his home.

Lin Shuang hadn’t expected to find herself genuinely absorbed in listening.

Probably all teachers received some kind of professional training — he could switch careers and become a language teacher or a history teacher.

It was getting late, and Zhou Zheng still walked her home to her building.

Lin Shuang crossed her arms, teasing him with a smile: “I’m home alone — want to come up for a bit?”

His eyes flickered, and he shook his head, shy: “No need… good night.”

Lin Shuang raised an eyebrow and asked him: “Zhou Zheng, do you think I’m pretty?”

He nodded, as if it were self-evident.

“Pretty enough to make your heart race?” She whispered close to his ear.

Zhou Zheng only felt his ear grow hot and itchy, forcing himself to hold back, shifting slightly to dodge her lips.

His eyes were sharply black and white, his gaze dark and glossy, like a black pebble in a stream.

Steady, and yet also a little evasive, as he looked at her.

She looked into his eyes and suddenly felt a stirring urge to try something.

Third time’s the charm — this was the third time.

At the very least, they should finish this, and then part ways.