Lin Shuang packed up a few personal belongings, leaving the rest behind for Zhou Zheng: “Keep what you like. Throw out what you don’t.”

The bank card Zhou Zheng had given her, she left on the desk before leaving: “No use for it now. Giving it back.”

His mood had already steadied; he was just as he always was. He said, “Mm,” picked up the things she was taking, and walked her downstairs and out the door.

The taxi slowly pulled away. Zhou Zheng stood by the roadside for a while, then turned and went to school — he had a meeting that afternoon and reports to write, two classes’ worth of exams to grade, and a full evening of study hall besides.

Yet time had suddenly become abundant. All these seemingly urgent matters were, in fact, not urgent at all.

After evening study hall ended, Zhou Zheng came home. The cactus flower on the balcony had completely withered. He rolled up his sleeves to tend to the pot, moved the plant to a sunnier spot, then tidied the apartment — folded clothes into the closet, cleared the desk, straightened the couch cushions.

That night he kept to his usual routine, even set his morning alarm as always.

He had to get used to it — just as when his parents both vanished on that stormy night, he’d endured the pain of losing both parents and gradually settled back into calm. Just three months’ worth of memories — they ought to fade even faster, not worth mentioning in the long river of a lifetime.

The next day at the office, Zhou Zheng received a bank text message. Lin Shuang had transferred a sum to his bank card — a large amount, far exceeding what had originally been on the card.

He called Lin Shuang.

It took a long while for the call to connect. In the background he could hear car horns and voices talking nearby — she was probably out shopping.

“That’s right.” Lin Shuang waved a hand at Miao Cai, moving to a quieter spot. “That’s my spending from shopping, plus these three months of dating and living expenses — I keep a daily ledger. I didn’t give you a cent more than what’s owed.”

She’d never intended to spend Zhou Zheng’s money, but she did enjoy the thrill of a man footing the bill for her — and she’d kept a daily record of their romance expenses, preparing early for the eventual end.

Zhou Zheng stood in front of a flowerbed holding his phone, one hand tucked in his pocket, jaw clenched tight.

“When it comes to love, you should really enjoy it more — no need to overthink the financial side of things. It was my idea to get together in the first place, and the money was all spent on me, so it’s only right I foot the bill.” Lin Shuang laughed lightly. “Take it. To me, this amount isn’t much. I figure… since you’ve bought the house, it ought to be renovated somewhere warm and beautiful.”

“Everything else I can accept.” His tone was calm and restrained, with a hint of stiff distance. “This one thing, though — I refuse.”

He didn’t call her Shuangshuang, soft and murmuring, as he used to — didn’t even say her name. He hung up cleanly, without ceremony.

Lin Shuang was silent for a moment, then lazily put her phone away.

Miao Cai saw the gloom on her face. “What’s wrong? Call from your ex?”

“Nothing.”

An hour later, Nana called Lin Shuang to say that Teacher Zhou had gone to the bubble tea shop and bought ten prepaid cards, each capped at ten thousand yuan.

“Why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you check with me first?” Lin Shuang frowned.

“Huh? I thought this was some kind of thing between you and Teacher Zhou… and he seemed pretty gentle when he came in, I asked him, and he said you’d know why.”

Lin Shuang hadn’t been to the shop these past few days, so the people around her didn’t know about the breakup.

Men and their strange sense of pride…

When a relationship ends, tugging back and forth over money is probably the most deflating thing that can happen. Lin Shuang figured that if she transferred this money back to Zhou Zheng’s card again, his next move would be to pay the rent on her shop.

“Did things go bad between you and Teacher Zhou?” Miao Cai asked. “Weren’t you getting along fine? Why the sudden breakup?”

“No reason.” Lin Shuang ate cake with light tea. She’d dyed her hair a new color these past couple days, gotten a new style, been to a beauty salon, tried a new manicure — dressed to the nines like a vivid, blooming rose, drawing every eye.

“But you giving him back all the dating money — that’s a little scary.” Miao Cai clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Teacher Zhou isn’t some man living off a woman — he’s got some pride, doesn’t he? You even paid for the condoms — that’s crueler than telling a man he’s no good in bed. Not only did it trample his dignity, it wrote off his whole attitude toward the relationship.”

Lin Shuang tossed back her tousled waves.

“If you really don’t want to owe him, wait a while and get him an expensive gift, or find a chance to pay it back some other way later.”

“Mm.” Lin Shuang thought of Zhang Fan and said flatly, “We’ll see, later.”

After hanging out with Miao Cai, Lin Shuang carried her shopping bags home. She hadn’t lived here in a while, only coming back occasionally to grab something — the room was cluttered with bags and daily necessities, a light film of dust on the table, waiting for her to clean it up bit by bit.

She curled into the lazy sofa, lit a cigarette with the ashtray in hand, then dug out her phone and deleted her chat and call history with Zhou Zheng.

Scrolling to her photo album, there were a scattering of photos from these past months — not many. It started from Miao Cai’s wedding and ended with the cactus flower, with candlelight flickering in between, shadows on the sports field, delicious dishes. Photos of him were few — occasionally a lowered head from behind, or a finger that happened to slip into frame.

She finished her cigarette, and her thumb hovered over the delete key without pressing down. She thought it over — maybe there was no need to erase the past. The happiness had been real, and so were the traces of it — worth pulling out to remember from time to time.

The people around the bubble tea shop had slowly gotten used to Zhou Zheng and Lin Shuang’s relationship — after all, the two of them were stable, often seen coming and going together. The gossip had died down, though people still speculated about where things were headed.

But Lin Shuang had recently taken on a certain radiant glow, dazzling enough to turn heads. She wore fitted, brightly colored long dresses, wrapped tight from head to toe, all manner of vivid reds and purples on display, yet never overpowering — only further setting off her jade-smooth skin, her striking figure standing out clear as day.

And on top of that, she was flirtatious — those apricot eyes clear yet lingering, carrying a teasing little edge whenever she glanced up at someone.

There was just over a month left before senior year’s college entrance exam — the busiest stretch, students and teachers alike buried in the final round of review. Zhou Zheng hadn’t shown up at the bubble tea shop in many days.

Word of the breakup leaked out quietly, a little belatedly. Neither party involved admitted or denied it — both carried on as if nothing had happened, life going on as usual.

Zhou Zheng, to save time, began eating three meals a day at the school cafeteria again. Zhang Fan glanced at him more than once, wearing a knowing look.

“Broke up?”

“Mm.” Zhou Zheng showed not the slightest trace of disappointment, eating while replying to messages. “Faculty meeting this afternoon, I’m skipping ping pong, you all go ahead.”

“Sure, you focus on your stuff.” Zhang Fan patted his thigh. “Probably good timing to break up now anyway — otherwise, juggling both, one eye on the students and one on the household, you’d wear yourself out.”

Zhou Zheng conceded the point. “It’s fine, really. If anything, the students shouldn’t be tense right now — need to relax more. We even put on a movie in the classroom at lunch these days, the pace is actually looser than before.”

Zhang Fan gave a dry laugh, watching his easy manner. “You… doing okay?”

Zhou Zheng looked at him, finding it a bit funny, and raised an eyebrow instead, joking, “What, you think I’m about to jump off a building or slit my wrists? Or secretly grieving, wasting away the rest of my life?”

“I don’t think that, I’m just worried you’re hurting inside.”

“It’s fine, really. At least I got a wish fulfilled — floated along for a while, but it’s time to land back on solid ground and walk with my feet on the earth.” Zhou Zheng rolled his shoulders, posture relaxed, explaining matter-of-factly, “Who didn’t know this was how it was always going to end.”

“True enough. The boss lady’s been looking especially eye-catching lately — we saw her walk by on the street yesterday and couldn’t look away. A few of the guys in the office were even jealous of you, catching a whiff of that beauty.”

Zhou Zheng smiled and shook his head helplessly.

At school, his attitude was open and unguarded. Whenever a colleague brought it up in front of him, he’d answer in the same forthright tone, not the least bit awkward: “Broke up a while back. Been busy lately anyway, don’t even have time to rest, couldn’t give her much — didn’t want to hold her back.”

His colleagues all expressed understanding — male teachers really did draw the short straw in this regard. Privately, the rumors circulated for a few days before dissolving into the tense atmosphere of senior year.

It turned out that when the person involved showed no crack of emotion, it was hard for anyone else to stir up much of a storm.

But Zhou Zheng did still stop by the bubble tea shop — treating his class to bubble tea, rushing over before the lunch break ended to pick it up. When the two of them ran into each other, they nodded and greeted each other naturally.

Lin Shuang was busy packing orders, her tone brisk. “A few more cups, almost done, hang on a bit.”

“Sure.” He had two boys from his class with him, and casually went to grab the takeout bags waiting on the counter, delegating tasks. “No rush, take your time.”

“Busy lately?” Lin Shuang chatted with him between orders.

“A bit. College entrance exam’s coming up soon, lots of loose ends.” His expression was composed, bag already in hand, just waiting for the last big bag from Lin Shuang.

The staff at the shop rushed to seal and bag the drinks. Lin Shuang collected the payment and saw them off, then turned around to see Nana and Kevin crowded together behind her, staring up at the ceiling.

“What?” She arched a brow, smiling.

“Boss lady… what composure…”

“What’s there to it.” She smirked, instructing her staff. “We’re all adults. Together if it fits, apart if it doesn’t — no need to make it into some lifelong feud. Who knows, maybe we’ll even send each other wedding invitations someday.”

After that, though, Lin Shuang didn’t run into Zhou Zheng again. Zhang Fan, on the other hand, would drop by the shop now and then for bubble tea, chatting with her a bit. Summer had arrived, and Xie Xiaomeng had started drinking bubble tea again — the two of them seemed to be thawing a little, and Zhang Fan resumed his bubble tea delivery runs.

Zhou Zheng was busy from six-thirty in the morning until midnight. If he wanted to do right by his responsibilities, there was always more work to do than time allowed. Right now the most crucial thing was getting this cohort through the college entrance exam — he poured every ounce of focus and energy into the work, and in spare moments he’d even pull a few students aside for extra math tutoring.

Lin Shuang had her own things going on too. Summer was naturally peak season for the bubble tea shop, business at its best all year round. On top of that, she’d recently met someone new, and slowly begun a new round of dating.