Spring was the season for studying; with less than two months left until the college entrance exams, Zhou Zheng was busier than ever, and lately his throat had started acting up again, cough drops stuffed into his pocket packet after packet.

Lin Shuang caught the cool minty scent on him, fished a drop out of his pocket and popped it in her mouth, leaning on his shoulder to ask: “What are you writing?”

“Daily schedule.”

He used a school notebook, black cover, quite thick, already more than half filled, every page packed dense with writing.

Lin Shuang looked closely — good grief, Teacher Zhou had planned out his time schedule down to the month, the week, the day, work matters taking priority, personal matters secondary, every to-do item from waking up in the morning to going to bed at night recorded one by one.

“This is practically CEO-level treatment.” Lin Shuang propped her chin on her hand, flipping through it. “Arranging everything, big and small, like this every single day — isn’t that boring?”

“There’s too much to keep track of, easy to forget things — writing it down makes it easier to plan and keep track of progress.” He coughed, scratching his throat. “Life is naturally full of little chores — you either face them proactively or let them get handled passively, either way, the things need doing regardless.”

“10:40, meeting, grade weekly test papers.” Lin Shuang’s finger slid across the page, arching a brow. “Is Teacher Zhou really racing against the clock like this — grading tests during a meeting?”

“Homeroom teacher meeting, nothing important, can multitask on something else,” he explained.

“And this one?” Lin Shuang pointed. “12:50, medicine + groceries + Feng? What does this mean?”

“Fewer people around at noon, so I go to the hospital to pick up grandma’s regular medication and vitamins. There’s a supermarket next to the hospital, so I’ll pick up some groceries on the way back too. I’ll drop the medicine off with little Feng so he can take it home over the weekend.”

The notebook had a few students’ names written down: “And this?”

“Taking these few to the school infirmary’s counseling room for a talk — the college entrance exams are coming up soon, worried their emotions might get unstable. One student’s been having trouble sleeping lately too, need to take him to see the school nurse.”

“Tsk tsk.” Lin Shuang shook her head, tone exaggerated. “Teacher Zhou’s got so much going on, and still keeps it all so neat and orderly — a real time-management master.”

Zhou Zheng turned to look at her, lashes blinking, and asked her: “Do you find it tiresome? This kind of… trivial, dull daily grind?”

He had, in fact, never once asked her what impression she held of him in her heart. Lin Shuang was caught a little off guard by the sudden question, momentarily stunned, then quickly recovered and shrugged. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“And this.” Lin Shuang kept scanning downward. “This time slot here — why’s it all blank?”

He smiled and closed the notebook.

“Earlier the schedule was packed so tight — why’s nothing planned afterward?” Lin Shuang pressed.

“What do you think.” He tidied up the things on his desk.

Lin Shuang thought it over, and it dawned on her — that was all the time reserved for her.

“How come once you’re with me you don’t write a schedule anymore?” Her tone carried a hint of amusement. “You could at least write it down — what minute and second we go for a walk together, what hour we head out shopping for afternoon tea, and then throw in a summary of accomplishments, notes on unfinished items.”

“When you’re enjoying life, you don’t need a schedule. Whatever we do is fine, doing nothing at all is fine too — today’s fine, tomorrow’s fine.”

He said — enjoying life.

Lin Shuang liked that phrase.

Her mood suddenly brightened; she draped herself over him clingily, twisting into an awkward angle to kiss him.

Their lips met, both their mouths tasting of cool mint, with a faint hint of medicine, four soft, warm lips lingering in a playful kiss, tangling together. The cough drop in his mouth had already melted, while she still held a tiny piece of hers on her tongue tip, rolling it over onto his tongue, only to have it pushed back to her again through the kiss, playfully, tirelessly passed back and forth, until it finally melted away between their lips, turning into a sweet, sticky kiss.

After one long, lingering kiss, both their breaths grew a little unsteady. With the weather warming lately, spring clothes were thinner — she’d switched to a dress, showing off her long, slender legs early on; his clothes felt soft and comfortable against her, carrying that fresh early-spring feeling. The apartment had new curtains too, white sheers paired with a bean-green blackout curtain, and the old apartment carried a sense of vibrant life as well.

Zhou Zheng kissed her thoroughly and attentively, and seeing her expression turn soft and hazy with feeling, he stroked her hair and kissed her eyes: “Shuangshuang…”

“Mm.” Her throat felt as soft as cotton candy, letting him hold her, pliant and yielding.

“I love you.”

His voice was hoarse, love carrying through from deep in his throat; she felt his warm, damp lips moving against her brow and eyes, a tingling, trembling sensation stirring in her chest as well.

Lin Shuang couldn’t help twisting her waist, drawing in a deep breath, eyes narrowing.

Having done this many times now, they’d grown familiar with each other’s bodies and rhythms, yet there was still a sense of gradual, deepening exploration; his pace had shifted from “testing the waters” to “soothing,” and the feeling of being joined together felt even better than before.

She really did love clever people.

“Are we still going out later?” She stroked his shoulder, hazy. “We booked a restaurant for tonight…”

Her body lay in disarray, every bone languid and loose — having to shower, do her makeup, and go out felt like such a hassle.

“How about I cook for you at home?” He breathed warm air against her ear. “My steak-searing skills aren’t bad, you know.”

She closed her eyes and burrowed into his chest, forehead rubbing against him, laughing softly: “Okay.”

Lin Shuang loved beautiful, exquisite things, loved extravagant prettiness, loved the atmosphere of candlelit dinners at Western restaurants, loved the scent of aromatic oils — she carried herself with a touch of the pampered, someone who wanted to be doted on.

Zhou Zheng went to the kitchen to make dinner, commandeering the little tea table, a rug, throw pillows, scented candles, and phone music for an impromptu Western-style dinner. Lin Shuang came out after her shower, and seeing the atmosphere, excitedly changed into a black velvet gown.

Lin Shuang chatted with him about clothes and shoes, while he talked about funny stories from his students; halfway through dinner, the two of them naturally drifted into a kiss, and tumbled together again — this time on the sofa. The scented air carried a faint intoxicating note, and whether it was the restlessness of spring or simply wearing too little, their intimacy lasted noticeably longer these days than it had in winter.

The knot in Lanting’s heart showed signs of loosening; she’d gone to Xie Xiaomeng and sighed it all out at length.

“Finally let it go this time?”

“Let it go.”

Xie Xiaomeng had worn her lips raw trying to talk sense into her, and Lanting had still held onto her attachment inside — but one meeting with Zhou Zheng, and the effect had been immediate.

“I told you a long time ago — Zhou Zheng’s nothing special, not worthy of you at all. You were just deceived by his surface appearance.”

Zhou Zheng hadn’t described his relationship with Lin Shuang as flawless or perfect in any way, and Lanting hadn’t felt envious of Lin Shuang’s good fortune either — she’d simply felt, powerfully, that sense of Zhou Zheng behaving like a completely different person, as if he’d lost himself in some kind of hollow romantic delirium.

Life isn’t a romance novel — they all lived in reality, in the mundane grind of daily life, penny by penny.

“I thought he was the type — gentle as jade, composed and self-possessed, never servile nor arrogant, a true gentleman… I feel a bit disillusioned.” Lanting still seemed a touch downcast.

“You’ve read too many romance novels.” Xie Xiaomeng stroked her hair. “You’re just too pure — you haven’t seen enough men in the world, and you run into one fake gentleman and can’t let it go.”

She and Zhou Zheng had absolutely no chance of getting back together; Lanting finally let it go for good, brushed away the last cobwebs clinging to her heart, and went off traveling with her family, bringing this unfulfilled first love to a close.

So they say, when a first love should be cut off, cut it off — otherwise, the old image will only shatter on its own eventually.

Zhou Zheng ran into Xie Xiaomeng at the school’s morning meeting; unusually, her expression toward him was decent enough, and she even greeted him first: “Morning.”

“Morning.”

The two of them walked toward the office together, one ahead of the other.

“How’s Lanting doing lately?” Zhou Zheng asked her.

“Doing well.” Xie Xiaomeng’s tone was even. “Went traveling with her grandparents over the weekend.”

“That’s good, then.” Zhou Zheng rubbed his nose and walked past with a smile.

Xie Xiaomeng shot him a glance and quickened her pace: “I never expected Teacher Zhou to pursue love this fiercely and boldly — wishing you success.”

Since Lanting was no longer lovesick over him, she felt no more need to be hard on Zhou Zheng either — as an ordinary friend and colleague, Zhou Zheng’s conduct was, all things considered, commendable, a reasonably reliable person.

“Thank you.” Zhou Zheng turned to look at her. “I really am sorry about the whole thing with Lanting — I never thought that much of it before, just figured we’d parted ways peacefully and everyone would be fine on their own.” His tone shifted. “But what about you, Teacher Xie — still no feelings for Zhang Fan?”

Xie Xiaomeng frowned slightly.

“You and Shuang-shuang are actually pretty alike — you both have strong opinions of your own, and you both stick to what you believe.” Zhou Zheng smiled. “But I got a little luckier than Zhang Fan — I pursued Shuangshuang for a very, very long time, was on her blacklist at one point, she chased me off more than a few times too. Maybe in the end she just got tired of it, couldn’t hold out against my persistence, and reluctantly agreed to give it a try with me.”

“Is that so?” Xie Xiaomeng glanced sideways. “So that’s how it was…”

“Yeah. She’s actually… a very kind and softhearted girl, independent and quite lovable, though in front of others she always likes to hide herself away — a bit like you too, Teacher Xie, cold as frost on the surface, but really turning things over endlessly inside.” Zhou Zheng shrugged. “Maybe pretty girls run into too much trouble, and end up developing their own protective coloring. I imagine you’ve got your own story too, Teacher Xie, that you’ve quietly worked through on your own. Shuangshuang really has gone through a lot of hard things before — managing to be where she is now really isn’t easy at all.”

The words were smooth and seamless, praising both Xie Xiaomeng and Lin Shuang at once.

Her rapport with Lin Shuang had never quite clicked; judging others by herself, Xie Xiaomeng was somewhat moved: “I wouldn’t have guessed. Miss Lin…”

“Actually… when it comes to relationships, if you can’t overlook certain feelings, and it’s destined not to lead anywhere, then just set the outcome aside for now. Two people being together, each gives something, each gains something, everyone getting what they need — being happy is enough. Maybe Shuangshuang and I will end up parting ways someday for some reason or another, but that’s fine too — she’s given me some wonderful memories, and I hope I can offer her some comfort too. Better than having nothing at all.”

“Not trying to give you any advice, Teacher Xie — just my own personal take, might not even be right.”

He’d never spoken this much casual conversation with Xie Xiaomeng before. Zhou Zheng said his goodbyes to her at the stairwell, and the two of them turned off toward their separate classrooms.

In the English department office, someone was calling out about milk tea: “The tea shop at the school gate’s got a few new spring items with a discount — anyone interested? We can split an order at lunch.”

Someone asked Xie Xiaomeng: “Xiaomeng, want one?”

Xie Xiaomeng had quit milk tea for quite a while now; she thought about it, then said flatly: “Sure, get me one then.”

The weekend weather was genuinely lovely, perfect for a spring outing, a picnic gathering — but Zhou Zheng had gone from half a day off each week to only half a day off every two weeks; forget spring outings, even a simple meal out or a shopping trip was a stretch.

The tea shop’s weekend business was fairly average; with Nana and Kevin holding down the fort, that was enough. With nothing to do, Lin Shuang could only go find Miao Cai, but of course the nail salon was doing brisk weekend business, and she couldn’t even get a manicure slot.

Finally, with a rare day off on the horizon, Zhou Zheng asked her: “Any plans for tomorrow afternoon?”

“No.” She was lazily brewing milk tea at the shop. “Just staying at the shop.”

“Weather’s pretty nice.” Zhou Zheng fiddled with his phone, eyes lowered, putting on an air of nonchalance. “We could go out for a look around.”

“Go where?” she asked.

He set down his phone, swallowed, his posture appearing casual, his tone even more relaxed: “Come with me to buy something.”

“Buy what?” Lin Shuang kept her head down, busy with her hands.

“Buy a house.”

Zhou Zheng’s whole demeanor was the picture of casual indifference, while his palms were already breaking out in a sweat.

Lin Shuang glanced up at him.

“The place we’re renting now — the landlord called a while back, said he’s planning to sell the place, we probably won’t be able to stay much longer anyway. The housing around the school’s all pretty old, doesn’t feel great to live in.” Zhou Zheng said evenly. “I lent Shunzai some money before, and he’s paid it all back recently — enough for a down payment. Might as well buy a place of our own to live in — Shuangshuang, your taste is pretty good, want to help me have a look?”

“Sure, no problem.” She lifted her gaze, replying evenly.

Zhou Zheng had already done his homework beforehand, narrowing it down to two new developments — one close to Beiquan High School, situated on the far side of the forest park, the other bordering a well-established commercial district with convenient transit. Both communities had a good environment, built by well-known developers.

The sales staff were all very warm; the moment the two of them walked in, they greeted them enthusiastically: “Are you two newlyweds? Or planning to get married soon? Our development is themed around vitality and premium living — great for both investment and personal residence.”

What they were pushing were all unit types suited for young people: “How about this one? Interior area 120 square meters, plus a bonus balcony area, three bedrooms two living rooms two bathrooms, elevator building, master bedroom, kids’ room, room for the elderly, all included, plus a small study — perfect for young couples.”

Lin Shuang was just tagging along to look, her expression indifferent, not offering any opinion.

Zhou Zheng squeezed her hand: “What do you think?”

She looked down at her phone: “They’re both good. This side has better greenery, the air’s probably better; that side’s got convenient transit, easy to get around — each has its own advantages.”

He asked her carefully: “Which one do you like better?”

Lin Shuang arched a brow, turned off her phone, her attitude largely one of indifference, and smiled brightly: “I don’t have a particular preference — whichever you like is fine.”

A flicker of dimness passed through his eyes for just a moment, quickly hidden away again.