Zhou Zheng brought Qi Ling to Lin Shuang’s milk tea shop.
The two of them looked like they’d just finished a game of basketball, sweat beading on Qi Ling’s forehead, school uniform slung over his shoulder, head hanging low as he trudged along behind Zhou Zheng.
Zhou Zheng had also taken off his hoodie, the black fitted short-sleeve underneath soaked through with sweat marks, his face slightly flushed as he pushed open the door to the milk tea shop.
Lin Shuang raised an eyebrow, watching the two of them — one grown man, one boy — walk in.
Her red velvet-manicured nails tapped against the counter in rhythm with the music.
Qi Ling stood stiffly behind Zhou Zheng; Lin Shuang couldn’t see him, only catching a glimpse of dark, tousled hair.
“Played some ball?”
“Mm.”
“Who won?” Her mood was excellent.
Zhou Zheng stood calmly before her, and at her words his dark eyes suddenly brightened, the corner of his brow lifting, a clean, refreshing smile breaking across his face — the meaning was obvious without needing words.
She leaned against the counter, her heart skipping a beat, thinking that smile of his just now had a certain quality to it.
Damn it, after enough nights together, the physical chemistry really did — issue direct commands to the body.
“What do you want to drink? Qi Ling, you order,” Zhou Zheng said, turning to ask the student behind him, stepping aside to let him forward.
Qi Ling pressed his lips tightly together, glanced up at Lin Shuang, his gaze both hard and direct, unwilling yet forced to admit defeat, and said hoarsely: “Lemon water.”
Zhou Zheng’s tone was even: “A good loser accepts the terms. You could stand to sound a bit friendlier.”
The two of them had played ten matches, on and off, cycling through every hobby they could think of — ping pong, badminton, basketball, soccer, running, video games — the score sat at ten to zero.
As long as Qi Ling won even one match, it would count as a win for him.
Qi Ling couldn’t force the word “sister” out even under threat of death, but at least he’d become more polite, biting out the words with heavy emphasis: “Please give me one cup of lemon water, thank you!”
Lin Shuang practically wanted to whistle: “You’re welcome. Since it’s a rare visit, this one’s on the house.”
This kid was universally disliked, and it didn’t matter if the two of them didn’t get along — as long as Zhou Zheng could keep him in line, that was fine.
Roughly speaking, this brat’s fate had essentially fallen into Lin Shuang’s hands.
Zhou Zheng had worked with the homeroom teacher, grinding away at Qi Ling both openly and subtly for over a month, keeping an eye on him through classes, breaks, and evening study, and had finally made some headway.
Qi Ling was the typical rebellious boy of this age — having endured coldness, harboring resentment and bias against family conventions, yet still with parents who managed and cared about him, tired of school and rebellious, yet without any real direction, simply drifting along with the current.
Treat the illness with the right medicine, and it wasn’t so hard to teach after all.
It just so happened Zhou Zheng had an unusual amount of patience, and his methods were fairly gentle.
Qi Ling didn’t dislike him, wasn’t repulsed by him, just couldn’t quite bring himself to like him either given his stubborn nature. He’d resisted for so long, but in the end his thinking was still too naive, his tactics too weak — Zhou Zheng outmatched him at every turn, and Qi Ling was forced to bow his stiff neck.
With a clear winner established, the relationship had eased somewhat, which meant they could move on to the next step. Qi Xiong had asked Zhou Zheng to look out for his son — having someone keeping an eye on him meant less chance of trouble, more peace of mind, and if his math and science scores improved enough to get him into a decent university, everyone would be satisfied.
Zhou Zheng had gone through Qi Ling’s math foundation thoroughly, and on top of the classroom teaching pace, drew up a dedicated review outline for him, with intensive training.
This semester of senior year still had one Saturday off, and Qi Xiong and Fu Min invited Lin Shuang and Zhou Zheng over to their home — four hours of tutoring before and after the meal. Lin Shuang hadn’t expected that besides math, Zhou Zheng could teach every subject except Chinese.
Qi Shan jumped up and down with delight: “Brother-in-law, can you tutor me too in the future? My grades aren’t good either.”
Kids all seemed to love a teacher’s extra attention.
Lin Shuang turned Qi Shan’s face away and shut the bedroom door.
With this connection established, Lin Shuang and Fu Min’s side saw more visits back and forth — Qi Xiong personally cooking meals, Fu Min taking Qi Shan and Lin Shuang out sometimes to wander around, do other things.
The more often Lin Shuang went, the more familiar Qi Shan became with her, calling her “sister” — an energetic eleven-year-old tiger of a kid, especially chatty, could talk your ear off until your heart practically gave out.
“Sis, are you going to marry Teacher Zhou? If you two get married, can I start calling him brother-in-law?”
Qi Shan was especially proud of this thought: “If you two have a baby, Mom becomes the grandma, and I become the uncle.”
Lin Shuang smacked him on the head: “Eat your snacks and be quiet.”
She’d just turned twenty-seven — the birthday party had been arranged by Fu Min and Qi Xiong, who’d found a restaurant she liked and prepared a cake. Qi Xiong and Fu Min both gave her birthday red envelopes, and even Qi Shan had prepared a gift — a necklace along with a stuffed animal, bought at an accessory shop near his elementary school, with several female classmates invited along to help pick it out. After the meal, Qi Xiong went back to mind the shop, while Fu Min, Zhou Zheng, and Qi Shan took her along to the arcade.
However you wanted to put it, Lin Shuang wasn’t fond of this kind of family atmosphere, finding it a bit sentimental and clingy, but the meal went smoothly enough, the birthday was lively and warm, and it felt acceptable overall. Combined with Zhou Zheng’s performance that night, she was actually rather satisfied with this birthday.
But at twenty-seven, in Beiquan city, she’d truly entered the ranks of the “older youth.” Lin Shuang’s aunt kept popping up to ask about it, and having learned about Zhou Zheng, kept nagging Lin Shuang to bring him home for a meal.
Fu Min sent Qi Shan off to play and asked Lin Shuang: “Where did Teacher Zhou buy his place? How big is it? Has renovation started yet?”
“Don’t know,” she said honestly, playing on her phone. “Never asked.”
Whether it was Zhou Zheng not bringing it up and Lin Shuang not asking out of deliberate avoidance, or simple indifference — that, no one could say.
Fu Min was at a loss for words, then asked again: “So is he renting outside right now? Or living at the school? Renting must cost some money too.”
Lin Shuang was absorbed in her game and didn’t answer.
In front of Fu Min, she wasn’t exactly easygoing — sometimes when she was in a good mood she’d chat more, other times, just a few words here and there.
Having gotten past those years of the most rigid tension between them, easing into this state already satisfied Fu Min.
She owed Lin Shuang quite a lot, really.
Back then, in a fit of anger against her ex-husband, she’d walked away in a rage, taking neither the property nor her daughter, never managing any of it afterward, never planning ahead for Lin Shuang. Later, when something happened to Lin Hai, before it happened, Lin Shuang’s stepmother had secretly transferred the assets and fled — the whole mess left for Lin Shuang to clean up, leaving her with nothing by the time it reached her hands. Even that old house had only been preserved through Lin Shuang’s aunt pulling strings and calling in favors.
“Young teachers might not earn much, but it’ll get better — the news says teacher salaries are being reformed too, going up every year. Senior year is the graduating class besides, and I hear the college entrance exam bonus isn’t small either.”
Fu Min genuinely thought Zhou Zheng was decent, though perhaps his financial situation and family background left something to be desired… but that wasn’t something you could really say out loud. In marriage, financial foundation mattered a great deal, yet a marriage built on financial considerations alone could just as easily become precarious.
At the dinner table, Fu Min and Qi Xiong also brought up, deliberately or not, the topic of Zhou Zheng buying a house.
Zhou Zheng spoke carefully: “The place is near the school, right by the Citizens’ Forest Park. I’ve already gotten the keys.”
“Renovation hasn’t started yet — I’ve just been looking into home decoration information lately, no rush.”
Lin Shuang glanced at him at that but said nothing.
On the way back, the bus passed by a stretch of new housing developments. Playing with her phone, she suddenly asked him: “Didn’t you say you bought that place downtown? How did it become Forest Park instead?”
He looked at her, his gaze drifting past the window, and said nothing.
After a moment: “Forest Park is close to the school, convenient for work, and the environment’s better.”
Lin Shuang gave a flat “mm” in response.
Zhou Zheng shifted his sitting position.
He knew she preferred the Forest Park property more too.
Around three or four in the afternoon, business at the milk tea shop was at its slowest, the time when Nana and Kevin could both slip out, usually leaving Lin Shuang alone in the shop.
Lin Shuang rarely called Zhang Fan out, but this time she invited him over to the shop for tea.
Zhang Fan found the two of them rather strange — rarely appearing as a pair in front of him, showing up alone whenever something was up.
Lin Shuang grabbed Zhang Fan’s phone and transferred him a hundred thousand yuan.
“What’s this money for?” Zhang Fan jumped up. “Boss lady, are you trying to keep me as your kept man?”
“I used to spend Zhou Zheng’s money,” Lin Shuang said, rolling her eyes at him. “Last time we dated, I spent a lot of his money buying things. When we broke up I tried to pay him back, and he wouldn’t take it.”
Zhang Fan could understand that much: “It’s only natural to spend money on your girlfriend while you’re together — there’s no rule about taking it back after a breakup.”
Then, glancing enviously at the phone again: “Tsk tsk, how many months did you two date? Zhou Zheng sure was generous with you.”
“Think of a way to transfer this money to him.”
“What method could I possibly have?” Zhang Fan laughed. “If I just hand him money out of nowhere, is he going to take it?”
“This is probably his emergency fund,” Lin Shuang said, smoking a cigarette. “Might be renovation money he set aside in advance, and he spent it on me.”
Zhang Fan already knew the situation with Zhou Zheng’s house, and puffed out his cheeks without saying anything.
“He finally managed to buy the place — don’t let it get stuck on the renovation,” Lin Shuang said flatly. “You’re with him every day. You don’t understand what I mean by giving you this money?”
“Even if I give it to him, will he take it? Zhou Zheng’s pretty stubborn himself, not the type to jump at money.”
Lin Shuang gave Zhang Fan an idea: “Just say you’re lending it to him for an emergency. Worry about paying it back later — stall on that. Just get him to take the money first.”
Zhang Fan thought it over, scratching his face: “I think you two are pretty interesting, honestly. Why don’t you just lock it down and get married — he buys the house, you handle the renovation, put both your names on the property deed, joint marital property, wouldn’t that solve it? Every single time, you two go in circles through me.”
Lin Shuang glanced at him: “Why are you talking so much — I’m using you as a tool here, and you’re the one coming up with ideas.”
“Hey.” Zhang Fan slapped his thigh. “Fine, I really am your tool then, going around calling myself your friend and everything — when have you two ever opened up to me? Only show up when you need something, kick me aside when you don’t, both of you exactly the same.”
Lin Shuang covered her mouth and laughed too: “Free milk tea for a month, and I’ll put in a good word for you with Teacher Xie.”
“Deal.” Zhang Fan knew when to take the win and leave.
“Watch what you say, keep it airtight,” Lin Shuang warned him. “This money — don’t let a single word of it get traced back to me. If anything happens later, we’re both coming after you, and you won’t be welcome through my shop door again.”
Zhang Fan shrank his neck a little.
A few days later, Zhang Fan went to trick Zhou Zheng: “How’s the renovation going? When are you planning to finish it?”
The apartment was 130 square meters, two units per stairwell, with 20 square meters of shared area — the developer threw in an extra dozen or so square meters on top of that. Renovation really wasn’t a small expense.
“Haven’t started yet.”
Zhou Zheng’s current plan was just to draw things up first; he hadn’t yet planned to actually begin the renovation. Saving up took time too.
“At this rate you’ll be waiting till the cows come home. Earn a bit, spend a bit — no need to have it all ready at once, at least get the walls and electrical work moving first.”
Zhang Fan had experience with this: “By the time the neighbors finish moving in and you’re just starting your renovation, complaints get complicated, easy to stir up conflicts too.” Zhang Fan frowned. “How about this — I’ve got a few tens of thousands sitting around, no place to spend it right now. Borrow it from me for now, and once you get your bonus after next year’s college entrance exams, pay me back slowly.”
Zhou Zheng shook his head, jogging off to fetch a ball: “No need, I’m not in a rush with the renovation.”
“Why’s your head suddenly not working right — I’m saying this for your own good.” Zhang Fan teased him. “You got back together with Lin Shuang this time, and let’s just say — living at her place, you’re basically a dependent, isn’t that right? A man’s charm takes a hit. When you run into her friends out and about and this comes up, at least give her some face, wouldn’t your future together go more smoothly then?”
Zhou Zheng tossed the ball up for a shot: “She doesn’t care about that stuff. Whether there’s a house or not doesn’t mean much to her…”
“You believe what a woman says? Get the place decorated nicely — girls always have things they like, don’t they? Take Lin Shuang’s milk tea shop, wasn’t that built up bit by bit by her own hands too? Show it off in front of her every once in a while — hey, this bedroom is so dreamy, this bathroom mirror is perfect for doing makeup, this walk-in closet is just amazing, this bed, so classy! Absolutely wonderful!! Want it, want it, want it — the house and the boyfriend, the whole package.”
Zhou Zheng chucked the ball at him, hands on hips, smirking: “What are you doing being a P.E. teacher — go do livestream sales instead.”
“What I’m saying is, you create this vision of a beautiful life, a warm home, that whole atmosphere… Lin Shuang sees it, and doesn’t it stir something in her heart?”
“No need. She wouldn’t like that.” It would only scare her off.
“So what if she doesn’t like it — as long as you like it, isn’t that enough? You’re building a home for someone you love — if it doesn’t move her, can’t it at least move yourself? Better than doing nothing at all.” Zhang Fan rattled on. “You’d have a place in the city sooner, could even bring your grandmother to stay a day or two, make the old lady happy. Besides, borrowing and repaying money isn’t anything shameful. You don’t have family backing you, going it alone — as your buddy, can’t I lend a hand?”
No telling which line struck a chord, but Zhou Zheng mulled it over in his heart.
Later, Zhou Zheng called Zhang Fan: “How much can you lend me? I’ll take on more work and pay you back by next summer.”
The deal was done.
Lin Shuang got a WeChat message: [Mission accomplished, money’s transferred to him. As for paying it back, you figure that out yourself next summer.]
Attached was a screenshot of the transfer.
Lin Shuang deleted the chat, looked up, and saw Zhou Zheng bent over his desk, writing furiously. She noticed his brow slightly furrowed, his gaze fixed on the tip of his pen, his profile soft yet resolute.
She’d seen it many times now — a man focused on something looked dazzling. She always felt that in this moment, he carried a kind of light within him.
She hoped it was a house he loved, one that would hold all of his happiness.