The teachers’ union organized a sports activity every month — table tennis, basketball, soccer, badminton, tennis, varying each time — and the teachers signed up based on interest and availability.

This month’s badminton match ended up scheduled for Sunday afternoon. Zhang Fan was running it; since it fell on a weekend, few teachers were on campus, and most of the sign-ups were young teachers who knew each other well.

Lin Shuang had agreed readily enough in bed, and now couldn’t think of a good reason to back out. As it happened, the milk tea shop wasn’t busy on weekends, so she went along too, slipping in quietly partway through, keeping a low profile in the stands to watch.

Though she’d seen plenty in her time, she found she actually felt a bit awkward about it deep down — she wasn’t a teenager anymore, doing this sort of pointless, show-offy thing.

The moment Zhou Zheng spotted her, he couldn’t help feeling a rush of delight, though he kept it from showing on his face, walking over from the crowd with two bottles of water and sitting down beside her.

To avoid the scene feeling too deliberately staged, she’d specifically changed into a different outfit today — a hoodie with matching sweatpants, a baseball cap, clean and sporty.

“So, tell me — am I supposed to hold your jacket, or hand you water?” Lin Shuang kept her voice low, pursing her lips. “Or cheer and clap when you’re up? I’ve got this routine down pat — just tell me what to do, Teacher Zhou.”

“Am I really that childish?” He raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in it, twisting open a bottle of mineral water for her. “I just wanted to call you out to get some sun.”

Lin Shuang shot him a sidelong glance.

“Oh ho, Teacher Zhou’s girlfriend’s here?”

An enthusiastic teacher started stirring things up: “Is that the boss lady? Almost didn’t recognize her. Zhou Zheng, not bad!”

“Come to watch Teacher Zhou’s match?”

“You two seem to get along great — Teacher Zhou’s got quite the luck with women, we’re all jealous.”

Everyone joked around; Lin Shuang put on a business-appropriate smile, and Zhou Zheng pulled her cap down a bit further.

Zhang Fan called out from the referee’s stand: “Zhou Zheng, you’re up next round.”

“Got it.”

“Boss lady, want to join for a round? We’re doing mixed doubles, round-robin elimination.”

Lin Shuang waved a modest hand. “No need, I’ll just watch.”

“Come on, come on, it’s just a small crowd, not a serious match, the point is just to join in.”

“Since you’re already here, might as well play.”

Ball games were more fun with more people, and everyone kept urging her on. Zhou Zheng simply tossed a badminton racket over to her; Lin Shuang wasn’t the shy, reluctant type, and with a lingering grudge from last time when Zhou Zheng had beaten her soundly, she caught the racket gracefully and tried her hand at it.

The teachers on hand all knew Zhou Zheng well, but most of them only knew Lin Shuang by her striking reputation, as someone far beyond their reach — they truly hadn’t expected Lin Shuang to actually be quite skilled at badminton, to be able to hold her own in conversation and take a joke well, to come across as genuinely straightforward — someone who could easily win people over.

With her joining in, the atmosphere on the court grew considerably livelier.

One of the female teachers took a liking to the outfit Lin Shuang was wearing and came over to ask about it; Lin Shuang readily shared the link — it really wasn’t expensive at all, quite affordable — and it instantly closed the distance between her and the female teachers.

The match wrapped up on a fairly satisfying note.

As everyone greeted each other and dispersed around the court, Zhang Fan made a special point of coming over to say hello: “Boss lady.”

“Teacher Zhang.”

“Didn’t expect you to be pretty good at this.” Zhang Fan grinned sheepishly. “Welcome, as a teacher’s family member — come join our activities more often.”

“You’re too kind, Teacher Zhang. I just happened to swing by and join in the fun.”

“Haven’t offered my congratulations yet.” Zhang Fan gave Zhou Zheng’s shoulder a pat as he passed. “Such wonderful news — we should all get together for a meal sometime when everyone’s free.”

Lin Shuang smiled.

After a bit more small talk, she walked off alongside Zhou Zheng, laughing and folding her arms, and once there was no one around on the path, lifted her leg and gave him a kick.

Zhou Zheng rubbed his nose. “What was that for?”

“So eager to show me off out here, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Zhou Zheng, you did that on purpose.”

“Everyone’s got a bit of a showing-off streak in them.” His tone was earnest.

Lin Shuang snorted. “Try that again and you’re a dead man.”

“So were you happy?” he asked her. “Did you have fun just now?”

“Not bad.” Exercise produces dopamine — her mood wasn’t bad at the moment.

“Are you coming to eat with Zhang Fan?” he asked. “Everyone together, friends chatting a bit.”

“Zhou Zheng, I’m not against ordinary socializing, and today was fine.” She turned to look at him, her tone gentle yet cutting. “It’s just — the more people get pulled in, the messier things get when it ends… maybe we could keep things a little lighter…”

Zhou Zheng walked her back to the milk tea shop and smiled. “Okay.”

No matter how sweet things looked on the surface, this relationship had been unequal from the very start — she was the one holding the upper hand, the one doing the enjoying, while Zhou Zheng had no choice but to go along.

Lin Shuang turned down the group meal with Zhang Fan, though one day she happened to run into him, and the three of them went into the milk tea shop together, with Lin Shuang joining them for a drink and some conversation.

From Zhang Fan’s perspective, there wasn’t much sign of deep affection visible between the two of them in front of others — Zhou Zheng had always kept his feelings under wraps, and Lin Shuang was consistently easygoing and polite with everyone; sitting together, they seemed only slightly closer than ordinary friends.

He still couldn’t quite understand it — Lin Shuang’s past preference in men had always been so obvious, so how had she ended up going for Zhou Zheng?

One day, Zhou Zheng stopped to pick up Lin Shuang’s delivery packages on his way home and carried them back. Zhang Fan suddenly caught the implication and was mildly startled: “You two are moving fast, huh? It’s only been a month — doesn’t seem like your style. You dated Lanting for so long, and we all had to egg you two on just to get you holding hands — and this time… already living together like this?”

Zhang Fan understood even less: “You’re not telling me the boss lady pushed you down, are you? Surely not.”

Zhou Zheng’s face grew a bit hot, but he stuck to his guns: “It’s not what you think. Mind your own business.”

Zhang Fan looked him up and down repeatedly, then suddenly burst out laughing. “Fine, I won’t worry about it. We’re all adults here, no one’s losing out.”

Then, a bit sourly: “Even your dead tree’s blooming again in spring — my withered wood hasn’t even started to recover yet.”

Since returning from the New Year, Xie Xiaomeng had been cold and distant toward him; he’d hit an emotional low point lately, feeling quite worn down.

In early March, Beiquan High School held a pep rally for the college entrance exam, and with all sorts of grade-level events large and small, Zhou Zheng had been busy for days on end.

Zhou Zheng had free time on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday evenings — on nights he had evening study duty, Lin Shuang would default to going back to her own place; on nights he didn’t, the two of them would go out for meals and then head to Zhou Zheng’s place to spend the night.

With how busy Zhou Zheng had been lately, Lin Shuang hadn’t been by in a while, and at his place there was now a growing pile of twenty or thirty delivery boxes.

Lin Shuang went over for lunch one day and was startled by the stacks of packages. “Is all this mine?”

“Mm.”

She tended to get carried away when shopping. “I’ll come by in a couple days to sort through it.”

She was waiting for one of his evenings off.

Zhou Zheng, eyes lowered, his tone even: “If you have time tonight, why not sort it out first?”

Lin Shuang laughed. “Don’t you have evening study tonight?”

His face flushed slightly, and he handed her his house key, rubbing his fingers together: “Actually… why don’t you come by tonight first… I’ll swap evening study duty with another teacher, come back around eight-thirty. Should work out timing-wise.”

The milk tea shop closed at eight too — the two of them would arrive home almost at the same time.

Was this… an active invitation?

Lin Shuang looked at the key, then glanced over at the pile of packages — spending the man’s money, enjoying the man’s affections — she accepted readily: “OK.”

At eight that evening, Lin Shuang closed up the shop and, for the first time, went to Zhou Zheng’s place alone.

The apartment was pitch dark; after turning on the lights, there was no one there, no sound at all — it gave her a bit of a sneaking-around feeling.

She paused at the doorway for a moment before stepping inside.

Half an hour later, Zhou Zheng came home carrying a thick stack of test papers, and upon seeing the lit-up apartment and hearing cheerful music, he too froze in his tracks for a moment, his heartbeat clearly audible.

Then he relaxed, letting go of the tension.

The bedroom was a chaotic mess, half a rug rolled up on the floor. Lin Shuang sat on the ground, turned to look at him, breaking into a delighted smile: “You’re back at just the right time — come help, put this shelf together.”

She’d bought a small box for storing cosmetics but picked the wrong size, so she’d ordered a shelving unit instead.

“Let me do it.” Zhou Zheng took the screwdriver from her hand. “You go do something else.”

Lin Shuang unpacked the delivery boxes one by one, tidying up the odds and ends scattered in the corners from before.

Things slowly emerged as she unpacked — a full-length mirror and vanity stand, plush white fuzzy slippers, cartoon mugs and bow hair clips, colorful bottles and jars, tissues for various uses, hangers big and small…

Though the volume of deliveries was substantial, girls did tend to live in fine detail — what she’d unpacked was really only a small fraction of Lin Shuang’s daily essentials.

“I bought a hair dryer — yours was old and not very effective anymore, so switch to this one.”

“Okay.”

There were also little perks for Zhou Zheng: the bathroom’s plain soap bar was retired in favor of fragrant, elaborately packaged bath and skincare products, and even the laundry detergent and hand soap at home got upgraded together.

It took them a full two hours to finish, and by the end the apartment carried a “fixed presence” of hers now.

Zhou Zheng started on his own work; the desk was covered with her things, so he found a spot instead, sitting cross-legged on the new rug beside the sofa, gripping a red pen, bent over grading test papers.

The weather was warming up; he’d taken off his coat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his shoulders hunched forward, the lines of his body smooth and supple, his expression focused on the papers as his pen moved swiftly, marking and crossing.

Lin Shuang, sorting through her skincare products, glanced back at him without thinking.

She first noticed the line of his back rising beneath his thin shirt, then studied his hands, his profile, his expression.

There was no doubt about it — a man focused on his work was at his most attractive, and in that moment, Zhou Zheng really did carry a fresh, novel kind of “appeal.”

Lin Shuang chalked this up to having “slept with him” — she had a memory of his body now, and that memory was pleasant and vivid.

Zhou Zheng noticed her gaze, looked up at her, and thought there was something odd in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Lin Shuang leaned over, pressing her cheek against his shoulder: “More tests coming up? Weekly or monthly?”

“Weekly test yesterday.”

“First time I’ve seen you grade papers — how are you marking them so fast?” she mumbled, half-complaining. “What if you get one wrong?”

“How could I get one wrong on a test I wrote myself?” He laughed lightly. “I remember the answer to every single question.”

“Teacher Zhou’s this young and already writing exam papers? Doesn’t the school go by seniority?” She rested against him, her eyes bright, her lips vivid. “Where do the grade-level directors and senior teachers rank in all this?”

“I’m certainly no match for the school’s veterans — it’s just that each person has their own style of setting questions, and letting students encounter a variety of question types and approaches is good for them.”

She glanced at the math test paper — all of it a painful, unfamiliar blur to her: “Zhou Zheng, why did you decide to become a teacher?”

“Is being a teacher not good?”

She thought about it. “Teaching’s fine, of course, but it’s not that glamorous either. You’re a math prodigy, you love math so much — why not go some other route? Mathematician, financial analyst, top-tier programmer, something like that?”

He laughed softly. “I’m just an ordinary person who happened to get a good score on one exam — that doesn’t mean my whole life has to be some brilliant, dazzling path. And besides, teaching is great — stable work, a clean environment, no need to pour too much energy into pointless things.”

“Principal Ding at the school — he was my homeroom teacher back in high school, taught me a great deal during my school years. If not for him… I might have dropped out of high school. I feel like teaching, nurturing students — in a certain sense, it’s a genuinely meaningful thing to do.”

“Then why come back to Beiquan? Beiquan’s so small, so behind the times — wouldn’t it have been better to stay and teach in a first-tier city?”

“Beiquan’s great — my home is here, and there are all the people and things here I hold dear…” He gazed at her tenderly. “What about you — you were away for so long, why did you come back?”

“I studied fashion design. The work looked glamorous, but it was actually pretty chaotic too. Later I opened an online shop, was busy every single day, and then the shop wasn’t doing well, and I felt too exhausted, so I just stopped and came back to Beiquan… because I had nowhere else to go. This is the place I know best.” She slid down from his shoulder and burrowed into his embrace.

“So we both ended up coming back, didn’t we?” He shifted position, settling her onto his lap, leaning over to keep grading papers with one hand.

“What a coincidence. And we even met on a blind date.” She tugged at his shirt, breathing in his scent, closing her eyes gently.

Zhou Zheng gazed at her, stroked her cheek, lowered his head, and let a light, feather-soft kiss land on her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming his kiss affectionately.

On previous nights spent together, chatting, showering, flirting had all just been build-up to what happened in bed.

Today the mood felt especially different.