Lin Shuang couldn’t decide, and Zhou Zheng’s mood never lifted, so no matter how eloquently the sales lady sang the property’s praises, they left without putting down a deposit.

By the time they went back, the city lights had already come on. The two of them finished dinner at a restaurant and walked home together — she looped her arm through his, and he tucked her hand into his jacket pocket.

“I’m going to have a cigarette.” Lin Shuang stopped at a roadside smoking area.

He watched her lower her head gently, long lashes half-closed, sweep back her long hair, cup her hands around the flame to light it, and take a practiced drag.

A passerby glanced at her more than once and gave a whistle; a young man on an electric scooter shouted from a distance, “Pretty lady~~”

Lin Shuang tapped her ash toward a trash can.

“You haven’t said a word all afternoon.” Zhou Zheng stood with both hands in his pockets, watching her quietly. “Shuangshuang, are you unhappy?”

In truth, from the moment the sales lady had used the words “young couple” and “marriage,” a distant look had settled over Lin Shuang’s porcelain-pale face.

“No, I’m fine.” Her tone was airy, weightless.

“Of the places we saw this afternoon, was there nothing you liked?”

She glanced sideways at him, her tone not quite serious. “Zhou Zheng, it’s your house you’re buying — why ask whether I like it? What does that mean?”

His gaze fell on the bustling street, then drifted to the neon lights flickering in the tree branches. His voice was steady and deliberate. “I want a place that’s livable. I don’t want you living with me in a rental. I want to bring you home to a place of your own — somewhere I hope you’ll like.”

“By the time your place is renovated, who knows where I’ll even be.” She brushed back her hair as it fluttered in the evening breeze. “You’re asking my opinion — what about the girl who moves in after me? Wouldn’t that be unfair to her?”

“Then pick your own house.”

A lump rose in his throat, weariness in his expression. “Then I’ll take the one downtown — lively surroundings, a bus stop right at the entrance that goes to the school, a mall right next door. Convenient for eating out and shopping later on.”

Lin Shuang frowned, almost imperceptibly, and took a drag of her cigarette. She seemed about to say something, but in the end said nothing.

The two of them went home. Zhou Zheng went out to the balcony to tend the cactus.

Spring had arrived in full bloom, and the cactus had grown noticeably taller, with flower buds already beginning to show. Zhou Zheng tended it carefully, even buying phosphorus-potassium fertilizer to supplement the soil.

“Is it going to bloom?” Lin Shuang asked him.

“Soon, probably.”

The two of them went through their nightly routine and got ready for bed. The warmth of the spring night was too pleasant. Lin Shuang hadn’t really been in the mood, but when Zhou Zheng changed out of his long-sleeved pajamas into a cotton tank top and shorts, and his cool skin brushed against hers, she couldn’t help pressing closer.

His short hair was still a little damp, water beads dripping from the tips and soaking round dots into his white tank top. His face, fresh from the shower, was pale and moist, his cheeks carrying a soft plumpness, his lips a deep red. Black brows and bright eyes, paired with lean muscle and a narrow frame, gave him a faint touch of youthful, upright freshness.

Lin Shuang had a feeling that at sixteen or seventeen, Zhou Zheng must have been a boy with slightly long hair, quiet and reserved, thin-limbed, with a touch of melancholy and rawness in his eyes, wrapped in a school uniform.

At first, she bit down on his shoulder — like retaliation, like torment.

Her sharp teeth pierced through the thin, resilient skin, met the resistance of muscle beneath, and eased off, grinding lightly against him instead.

Zhou Zheng held her, brows faintly knitting, gaze quiet and still, waiting for her to loosen her hold.

Lin Shuang finally let go and looked at the deep bite mark she’d left.

He looked at her face, then buried his head at the crook of her neck, and, as if out of spite, caught her shoulder between his teeth in turn.

The pressure was, of course, carefully controlled — enough that she wouldn’t feel pain, yet enough to feel the weight of lips and teeth.

Lin Shuang ran a hand through his damp, downy hair and held him close.

That night the two of them seemed to have inexhaustible passion and energy. When it finally ended, she was trembling, and fell straight into sleep with her eyes closed.

When she woke in the middle of the night, Zhou Zheng wasn’t beside her, nor was he in the bedroom.

The bedroom door was left ajar, and light seeped through the gap.

After two people grow used to sleeping together, the other person can sense it when the space beside them turns empty and cold.

Lin Shuang put on her pajamas and got out of bed, gently easing the door open. She saw Zhou Zheng sitting at the dining table with his back to her.

She looked at the screen full of red, green, purple, and blue fluctuating curves and blinking numbers — even a fool would know this had nothing to do with teaching senior year classes.

Actually, Zhou Zheng had been working overtime a lot lately — sometimes squeezing it in between other things, sometimes deep into the night, sometimes getting up at four or five in the morning.

Lin Shuang leaned against the doorframe and watched quietly for a while before speaking. “Still working this late?”

His train of thought broken, he turned around. “Why are you up?”

“I sweated too much, I’m thirsty and want water.” Lin Shuang was holding a water cup. “There’s no water in the room.”

Tea was steeping on the table. He took the cup from her hand. “Give it to me.”

“What’s this?”

“A data modeling program. Doing some data analysis work.”

“Another job?” Lin Shuang leaned on the corner of the table and asked him. “Are you earning extra money from this? How long have you been doing it?”

“Yeah, took on some work from a friend.” He handed the cup back to her. “I did this during winter and summer breaks before, too.”

—

The down payment for the house, plus the bank card he’d given her, plus the two of them’s monthly living expenses — with what she spent shopping every month, a high school teacher’s salary absolutely wasn’t enough.

“Earning money to support me?” She went soft, resting her head on his shoulder. “I spend quite a lot, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t spend much at all.” He stroked her hair. “I want to earn more, so you can spend more.”

“That vanity of yours will be the death of you one day.” She laughed lightly, her smooth, slender arm winding around him. “Zhou Zheng, someone who truly loves you wouldn’t want to spend your money. Do you understand?”

“Besides, the college entrance exam is coming up soon. If you take on freelance work and your energy is drained, can you really take good care of the students in your class? You’re guarding something enormously important — their future.”

He didn’t say anything, just gently patted her arm.

“When you’re done with this, will you come to bed with me?” She let go of him and rubbed his shoulder.

“Almost done, go to sleep first.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” She dragged over a stool and sat down beside him, squinting at the computer screen.

With her there keeping him company, he finished up early, shut down the computer, and got into bed. She naturally curled into his arms, closed her eyes, then suddenly opened them and asked him.

“Zhou Zheng, exactly how much do you like me?”

“A little more than you’d imagine.”

“So what do you like about me?”

“Pretty, cute, straightforward, willful, refreshing, mischievous… lots of things, really — pretty much all of you.”

She curved her lips into a smile and drifted off to sleep, sweet and content.

The next day the sun streamed into the bed. Lin Shuang was still sleeping in. Zhou Zheng had classes during third and fourth period, so he’d gone to school in the morning for a brief meeting, then come back and dug Lin Shuang out from under the covers. “Shuangshuang, the cactus is blooming.”

“Really?”

A small white flower bud, trembling and gathered tight, pure and jade-like in appearance, shy and hesitant, quivered half-open in the morning light.

The two of them crouched by the basin to watch. Lin Shuang asked him, “How many days will it bloom for?”

“It’ll wilt in a day.”

“Then I’d better watch over it well, until it’s fully in bloom.” Lin Shuang pulled out her phone to take a photo. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen a cactus flower.”

“Are you hungry? Should I make you something, or go buy you breakfast?”

“No need, I’m not hungry, there’s milk in the fridge.” She urged him along. “Go on, hurry back to school for class.”

At noon, Zhou Zheng came out of school and received a few photos from Lin Shuang — the cactus flower in full bloom, pure white, layered petals, delicate beyond compare.

She was lying on the balcony smoking and sunbathing, and when she heard the front door, she turned and smiled. “You’re back.”

Zhou Zheng saw the whole apartment full of her things — some already packed into bags, others still scattered about. Suddenly something seemed to lurch inside his head, and words wouldn’t come; he simply froze in place.

Lin Shuang stood lazily in the sunlight, brushing back her long hair. Bright light poured down from above her head, falling across her face, giving her a dreamlike, unreal beauty.

She smiled brightly, her tone light and easy. “You’re back at just the right time. Starting today, I won’t be staying over here anymore — I’m packing up a few things to take back.”

“Hey, Zhou Zheng, it’s about time, isn’t it — why don’t we call it quits?”

He stood stock-still, his voice strangely calm. “Why?”

“We agreed from the start it was just for fun. It’s about time — we’ve actually been together three months.”

She thought back on it — three months, really. Quite a long stretch of time.

But to Zhou Zheng it felt like the blink of an eye.

“Time’s gone by fast. We met around this time last year too, didn’t we — at the blind date. A whole year’s already passed.”

She walked over, her fingertip, warmed by the sun, touching his cheek, and kissed him. “Zhou Zheng, honestly, I had a good impression of you that first day on the blind date. It’s been fun knowing you — thanks for taking care of me.”

He gripped her fingers tightly, his dark eyes fixed on her. “Shuangshuang, I won’t buy the house. Let’s go back to the day before, can we?”

“It has nothing to do with the house.” She blinked. “The cactus bloomed. Game over.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t even know the rules of this game.” His face went taut, drawn tight. “It could have never bloomed at all.”

Lin Shuang smiled, sly.

“Zhou Zheng, I know what you want. What you want, you won’t get from me.” She tilted her head up to look at him, her voice coaxing. “I don’t want to get married, don’t want children. I just want to live this kind of life — easy, happy, free and unbound, without any burdens or constraints.”

“If you don’t want to marry, then we won’t marry. If you don’t want children, then we won’t have children. None of that matters — what matters is that I want to be with you.” His face flushed, his gaze burning. “You can live the life you want, and I can stay by your side. I’ll buy you a beautiful house as a gift. I’ll earn a lot, a lot of money — I barely spend anything in a year anyway. I can support you, let you live well…”

She tilted her head to look at him, brows knitting.

When it ends, don’t drag it out — make it clean, can you do that?

Zhou Zheng pressed his lips together, took a step back, and looked at her in silence.