After returning to China, Zhang Shu remained busy with projects. Their first project was AI medical imaging, for which he brought engineers to work in hospitals. Even though he was back in the country, Sheng Xia rarely got to see him.
The second semester of her second year of graduate studies would typically be the most intense, as it required preparing for the master’s thesis. However, since Sheng Xia was in a combined master’s-doctoral program, she was spared this trouble. Still, Professor Tan didn’t let her idle—she was assigned to review all the undergraduate theses.
When she received Zhang Shu’s call suggesting they return to Nan Li for the Dragon Boat Festival, she could barely process it. “You… have time off?”
How could he have holidays when he was spinning like a top, juggling his graduation thesis and project work?
“Yes, holiday. We’re going back to get married.”
His voice remained as calm as ever, but Sheng Xia was far from composed.
Though she was used to his way of handling big and small matters with the same attitude, but marriage? Marriage?
“But my parents…”
“They already know.”
“But…”
“They’ve already agreed.”
“How is that possible?” She hadn’t graduated yet—how could Wang Lianhua allow her to marry? Besides, nothing was prepared, how could they get married?
Zhang Shu: “We’ll register first, and have the ceremony after graduation.”
“Why so sudden?”
“Because ‘Da Sheng’ has received approval and will soon be deployed in medical institutions. It’s my first product, the first product you witnessed. I want it to be part of our marital property.”
“Da Sheng” was Yi Xia Technology’s first robotics project, designed for CT image screening and diagnostic assistance.
Sheng Xia was deeply moved, unsure how to respond. She just wanted to pack her bags and return to Nan Li immediately.
Without waiting for her answer, he continued: “Sheng Xia, I’m at the hospital now monitoring data training. You know, although it’s called a robot, it’s just a system. It has no body, no physical form, nothing you can see or touch, but it has more precise eyes and a more professional mind. It can do more, so much more than a radiology specialist… Do you know? Maybe in the future, it will appear in remote areas, in the most basic medical facilities, stationed there like having an expert assigned to every ordinary hospital…”
“Before, I just thought I needed to do something to make a living, but baby, do you know? Now I feel like I might be able to do more than just make a living. Today I’m happy, really happy, do you know?”
Zhang Shu was somewhat incoherent.
Sheng Xia had never seen Zhang Shu like this. His emotional intelligence was extremely high, and he rarely lost composure. Even when facing people older or of higher status than him, he always remained calm and collected. His communication skills were exceptional—Sheng Xia often wondered if he’d received professional training.
But now he kept repeating “do you know,” as if desperately seeking resonance. He’d forgotten all his communication techniques; he just wanted to share his joy with her.
“I know, I’ve always known…” Sheng Xia answered softly but solemnly.
“So I couldn’t help it, proposing to you so casually over the phone. Will you marry me? Create more marital property like ‘Da Sheng’ with me.”
Tears streaming down her face, Sheng Xia choked out: “Then I’ll buy my ticket to Nan Li now.”
“I’ve already bought it. I’ll pick you up at school tomorrow at seven.”
…
On June 1st, Sheng Xia received her red marriage certificate.
“It’s so thin?” she weighed it in her hand.
The registry office worker smiled, “Young lady, the marriage certificate may be thin, but marriage itself isn’t light, you know?”
Sheng Xia nodded in agreement: “You’re right.”
Zhang Shu held her hand, examining her diamond ring, “If you think it’s too thin, we can frame it.”
“Then I want to buy a frame.”
Zhang Shu: “Alright, let’s go buy one.”
“Let’s buy it at the stationery store by the north gate of Fu Zhong!”
Zhang Shu paused slightly, “Then do you want to go to Yi Fang Bookstore to buy a ‘Marriage Law’ book, then to the sporting goods store to buy knee pads, and then to the stationery store for the frame?”
Sheng Xia was surprised: “How do you know my route!”
Zhang Shu: “Only fools think they’re being perfectly subtle.”
“…”
Sheng Xia: “That’s not right, A Shu, there’s no separate ‘Marriage Law’ book anymore, it’s all in the ‘Civil Code’ now, in the Marriage and Family section.”
“…”
Zhang Shu: “That’s not right, silly, there’s no ‘A Shu’ anymore, it’s ‘husband.'”
“…”
How could she say that? It’s so embarrassing! Sheng Xia turned and ran, then suddenly realized—wait, he called her silly!
Zhang Shu strolled behind, waiting for her to look back. “That’s not right, there’s no ‘silly’ anymore, you should call…”
“Wife.” He interrupted her, speaking naturally and readily.
Sheng Xia was speechless, helpless under his increasingly serious gaze, and squeaked out in a tiny voice, “Husband…”
In broad daylight, in front of the marriage registry office, Zhang Shu held Sheng Xia’s chin and kissed her passionately.
They were legal now—who cares about being proper!
The registry office wasn’t far from Fu Zhong, and Sheng Xia wanted to take a stroll. Zhang Shu naturally obliged. Hand in hand, like countless impromptu dates before, they played their silly word game while walking along the path in Jiangbin Park.
“This is our first time taking a walk in Nan Li, isn’t it?” said Sheng Xia.
“Mm.”
“This is our first walk as a married couple, isn’t it?” Sheng Xia said again.
“Mm.”
“Why aren’t you talking!” She got angry.
Zhang Shu stopped walking and looked at her, “I’m wondering, now that we’re legal, will you stop being shy?”
Sheng Xia’s ears instantly turned red.
They were just taking a walk, how could his mind be on that kind of thing?
“Looks like you won’t,” Zhang Shu pinched her earlobe, “I guess you’ll be shy for life.”
Sheng Xia: “Is that not allowed?”
Zhang Shu nodded: “It’s allowed. At worst, you can be shy, and I’ll be presumptuous—it works out.”
Sheng Xia grumbled: “Hurry up and walk! The sun’s about to set!”
Fu Zhong was on Dragon Boat Festival break, and most first and second-year high school students had gone home for the holiday, leaving the campus quite quiet.
Sheng Xia bought the frame and two cups of cucumber juice, while Zhang Shu had already won over the security guard, allowing them to stroll freely into campus.
Sheng Xia pulled her hand from his palm and said seriously: “No holding hands on campus, be careful of getting caught dating by the disciplinary teacher!”
Zhang Shu played along perfectly, “You’re right, wife.”
With college entrance exams approaching, Taoli Square was covered in wishing cards.
Sheng Xia asked: “What did you write on your wish card back then?”
“Don’t remember, I don’t believe in these things.”
An expected answer. Sheng Xia raised her eyebrows, “Guess what I wrote?”
“First wish for peace and prosperity, second for parents’ health, third for our wishes to come true, and to meet again in September?”
Sheng Xia was amazed again, “How did you know?”
Zhang Shu wore a “is that hard to guess?” expression and laughed: “Making wishes is like setting passwords, they’re all the same everywhere, stacked up.”
“You’re so unimaginative.”
“Let’s go.” Zhang Shu pulled her along, truly having no interest in such superstitious practices.
Sheng Xia held him back, “Wait, I want to make a wish!”
Zhang Shu resigned himself to waiting for her.
Sheng Xia pressed her palms together and silently prayed: “May you all perform exceptionally well, may you have a wonderful and happy graduation trip, and may you meet your lifelong companion in September…”
Zhang Shu’s lips curved unconsciously into a slight smile as he quietly watched her harbor kindness for all things, praying for others with the most tender love.
Gentle, steadfast, kind, beautiful. These were the words Zhang Shu thought of to describe Sheng Xia—his beloved.
“I’m the lucky koi itself, my wishes come true, good luck juniors!”
Zhang Shu: …
Reaching the bike shed, Sheng Xia suddenly grew curious, “Where did you guys get all those magazines and DVDs back then? There were so many!”
She had been really scared at the time, thinking she’d encountered some pervert.
Zhang Shu: “Hou Junqi’s friend brought them from abroad. Liu Hui’an and the others wanted them too, so they brought a lot.”
“Did you watch them?”
“Yes.”
“…”
A sour feeling suddenly rose in Sheng Xia’s stomach. He had watched others, though this seemed normal for adolescent boys, but those women in the films were probably very… skilled, right?
She suddenly thought, when he said she was shy, was he subtly saying she was boring?
The more she thought about it, the more upset she became. Sheng Xia turned and walked ahead, not speaking.
Zhang Shu watched her suddenly lowered head and inwardly sighed, knowing he’d misspoken. He bent down to ask: “You’re unhappy that I said I watched them?”
“Mm!” She answered honestly.
Zhang Shu: “I never watched them again after that.”
“After when?”
Zhang Shu recalled those youthful thoughts and suddenly laughed: “After I started dreaming about you.”
“Dreaming about me what…” Sheng Xia’s voice stopped. She already knew the answer; asking would just invite embarrassment.
However, Zhang Shu didn’t let her off, lowering his voice to say: “Dreaming about you in Yi Fang Bookstore…”
“Stop!” Sheng Xia stood on tiptoe to cover his mouth, “This is a place of literature, no obscenity allowed.”
Zhang Shu’s laugh was muffled behind her hand until he finally pulled it down and explained with a smile: “I just dreamed that you kept calling my name, A Shu, A Shu, endlessly…”
Sheng Xia: …
Excuse me, it wasn’t like that!
Reaching the teaching building, Sheng Xia said: “Do you remember when I was injured, you carried me down from the fifth floor?”
“Mm.”
“Do you know what I was thinking then?”
Zhang Shu silently waited for her to continue.
Sheng Xia: “I was thinking that my secret crush was quite lucky, at least I got to see the view from five floors up with you.”
Zhang Shu’s gaze deepened, and he suddenly took her hand and walked upstairs.
Sheng Xia asked: “Aren’t we going to look at Class 6?”
“Let’s chase the sunset first.”
They were standing on the first floor now, where trees blocked the sun from view; climbing to the second floor, they could only see the school’s artificial lake; by the third floor, they could see the road outside and Jiangbin Park; on the fourth floor, the view suddenly opened up—under the setting sun, the river sparkled, with the sun hiding behind tall buildings, leaving just a large semicircle; from the fifth floor, they could see both the distant prosperity and nearby tranquility, with magnificent sunset clouds painting the entire city in splendor.
They leaned on the railing watching the sunset. Occasionally students passed by, curiously looking back at them with puzzled expressions.
No one understood their romance.
When a group of students left and no one was around, Sheng Xia stood on tiptoe and kissed Zhang Shu’s cheek, “Kissing you to celebrate my dream coming true.”
Zhang Shu paused, looking down at her radiant smile in the golden sunset.
As the sun sank below the horizon, they walked back hand in hand. Zhang Shu suddenly crouched in front of her, “Get on.”
Sheng Xia hesitated, “I’m heavier now than I was then.”
“Hurry up.” Even his words were the same as back then.
Sheng Xia smiled, pressing her lips together, and climbed onto his back. This time he didn’t need to be cautious, openly supporting her bottom, walking more steadily.
Nearly reaching the first floor, Zhang Shu asked: “Then do you know what I was thinking at that time?”
“Hm?”
“I was thinking, why won’t you let me be responsible for a lifetime? If only you’d let me be responsible for a lifetime.”
Zhang Shu carried her to Class 6’s back door before setting her down, turning to say: “So, I’m the one whose dream came true, silly.”
Sheng Xia gazed at him dazedly, everything in her sight like a framed picture.
The evening glow shone behind Zhang Shu, wind on his shoulders, light in his eyes as if he were still that youth.
Inside the classroom, ceiling fans spun, test papers flew about.
Outside the window, camphor trees flourished, and cicadas chirped intensely.
As if it were still that summer.
The following year, also on June 1st, Sheng Xia and Zhang Shu held their wedding at Nan Li.
Due to conflicting opinions between Wang Lianhua and Sheng Mingfeng, they ultimately had to follow traditional wedding customs.
Sheng Xia’s bridesmaids were formidable—Xin Xiaohe and Liao Jing especially worried about the groomsmen waiting outside. Finally, Zhang Shu had to compose an impromptu wedding poem before they would let him pass.
“A Shu, how did you get so amazing? You can even write poetry now?” Hou Junqi marveled.
Zhang Shu began flattering shamelessly: “All thanks to my wife’s good teaching.”
Xin Xiaohe commanded: “Praising your wife won’t help now—nothing’s happening without red envelopes!”
Yang Linyu pushed forward, “We’ve got plenty, plenty!”
“Get lost,” Xin Xiaohe wouldn’t fall for it. “Today we must make Brother Shu lose face, or I won’t rest in peace!”
“Tsk tsk tsk, don’t mention that word, or I won’t be able to sleep in peace!”
Zhang Shu wore an expression of resignation, but his words remained sharp: “Can’t sleep in peace? Brother Yu’s service not up to par?”
“Hahahaha!”
“Why are you dragging us into your spotlight? Hurry up and find the shoes!”
“We’ll stop if you give us some hints.”
Zhang Shu had plenty of ways to deal with Xin Xiaohe. After passing all the hurdles, he easily carried away his bride.
The Western-style lawn wedding had many young guests, so the wedding planners organized garden activities. Zhang Shu’s business partners brought robots to guide everyone in games, and VR equipment was set up, giving it a high-tech feel. Guests could play freely before the wedding began, earning points through games to exchange for robot figurines. The wedding was lively and fresh, not only meeting Wang Lianhua and Sheng Mingfeng’s conflicting requirements but also ensuring everyone’s enjoyment.
When the officiant took the stage, Sheng Xia and Zhang Shu’s university classmates were stunned.
It was someone they’d seen on the national news broadcast.
“Sheng Xia kept that under wraps!”
“Isn’t Brother Shu the same?”
“Unbelievable.”
When Sheng Mingfeng placed Sheng Xia’s hand in Zhang Shu’s, his hand trembled uncontrollably. “I’m entrusting you with my most precious daughter, Student Zhang Shu. Don’t let me down.”
That “Student Zhang Shu” made many guests laugh, but it brought tears to Xin Xiaohe, Hou Junqi, and their high school classmates.
Zhang Shu had nearly paid with his life to appear in Sheng Mingfeng’s view as “Student Zhang Shu,” and from there to becoming Sheng Xia’s husband—what a journey he had walked.
Zhang Shu tightened his grip on Sheng Xia’s hand and simply nodded slightly.
When Wang Lianhua came on stage, she was followed by an usher carrying a huge gift box that held everyone in suspense. When it was opened, everyone looked surprised.
Inside was a pair of cut leg casts.
“Today, with all of Xia Xia’s classmates here, I’m giving these casts I’ve kept for seven years to Zhang Shu. There are many classmates’ signatures here. Look, who wrote this? ‘Dongzhou University, here I come’—written by student Xin Xiaohe…”
Below the stage, Xin Xiaohe, who had been crying herself into a mess, broke into laughter through her tears. “Wuwuwu, I didn’t achieve that, but I’m still doing well.”
“And here’s another: ‘Xiaomai needs to lose weight to find a man in university’…”
“Hahahahahaha!”
Xiaomai trembled: “Socially dying at my friend’s wedding, folks.”
Wang Lianhua read several more messages, making the high school classmates section nearly collapse with laughter.
“‘Life is mine, walking freely alone’—this was written by Student Zhang Shu.” Wang Lianhua also called him this way, triggering another wave of good-natured laughter from below.
“Zhang Shu, from now on it won’t be just two people, there will be three, four… life won’t be so free anymore.”
“‘Fortunate to know your peach blossom face, from now on the paths are full of warm spring’—these characters written so beautifully, of course by my precious daughter Sheng Xia. At the time, she told me it was written for her classmates. Today I want to ask Sheng Xia’s classmates—in your class, who was called Song Jiang?”
Zhang Shu’s usually composed face showed a dazed expression.
Wang Lianhua said solemnly: “Zhang Shu, I hope you can be Sheng Xia’s timely rain.”
Above and below the stage, all fell silent.
Sheng Xia’s delicate makeup was washed away by tears. In her blurry vision, Zhang Shu’s handsome face drew closer, and amid the crowd’s warm blessings, he kissed her.
He kissed her for a long time.
In this jubilant summer named after each other.
…
After marriage, they remained busy with their pursuits. Neither Sheng Xia nor Zhang Shu planned to have children too early.
On one hand, she was still pursuing her doctorate, and on the other, Zhang Shu was also busy.
In the two years since Yi Xia Technology’s establishment, whether in innovation or practical results, they had consistently led similar startup companies, building an AI matrix with over ten products. Some peers made veiled comments online about Yi Xia Technology’s founder’s political background; others questioned the value of Yi Xia Technology’s various certifications. But undeniably, Yi Xia Technology’s growth rate left others in the dust, with revenue at industry-leading levels, successfully entering Series C financing.
No matter how busy Zhang Shu was, he would take a ten-day annual leave during Sheng Xia’s summer vacation to travel with her.
She still filmed and edited her vlogs, gaining more and more followers. She was satisfied, and whenever her traffic hit new highs, she would post cultural promotion information—truly working for love.
Usually, when not working overtime, Zhang Shu would accompany Sheng Xia on walks, watch movies, browse bookstores, or simply read at home.
However, Sheng Xia had too many books. When the bookshelves were full, they went on the coffee table; when the coffee table was full, they went on the floor. Zhang Shu could never find his books.
She not only had many books but had many of everything, whether clothes, shoes, bags, or jewelry—all dazzling arrays. Just for shampoo, she had several types, clearly distinguishing which season needed which shampoo. Not to mention skincare products—every night she would sit in front of the mirror, tirelessly patting seven or eight different things onto her face.
This somewhat subverted Zhang Shu’s understanding: being a fairy was so tiring, that it made his face hurt just watching.
Zhang Shu knew Sheng Xia wasn’t materialistic; she was purely meticulous. Bringing home a Disney princess meant that 200-plus square meters probably wasn’t enough space.
Coming out of the shower, Zhang Shu looked at the increasingly cramped dressing room and thought this.
Another thing that completely subverted Zhang Shu’s understanding: Sheng Xia not only couldn’t cook, but she also couldn’t organize things.
So at home, he did the cooking. If he had business dinners, he would arrange for restaurants to deliver takeout to her before eating, so she would know where he was dining.
On weekends when Zhang Shu was free, he would do major cleaning. Sheng Xia occasionally helped, but after watching her sweep the floor, repeatedly wash her hands, apply hand cream, and finally wipe the broom head with disinfectant wipes, he abandoned the idea that working together makes tasks easier, as well as the illusion of promoting marital harmony through household chores.
With that effort, better to be more presumptuous.
It was simpler to leave everything to the housekeeper.
Even so, Sheng Xia had no self-awareness of being overwhelmed—she even got a cat.
Said it could keep her company reading when he wasn’t home.
Who could refuse that? Zhang Shu’s black face lasted only three seconds before her repeated “husband” convinced him.
She usually called him “A Shu,” when angry “Zhang Shu,” and when wanting something from him, she’d call him “husband.”
Zhang Shu had figured it all out.
So the housekeeper, besides cleaning, laundry, and cooking, also had to take care of her cat.
Living together naturally revealed things about each other in their interactions, but Zhang Shu didn’t feel Sheng Xia had changed.
She lived among worldly affairs but seemed to never be stained by dust.
Zhang Shu could always find peace the moment he stepped through their door. Whenever he returned from overtime work, hugging her, and kissing her would wash away the fatigue from the bustling world.
Even if she might just be sitting among a mess of books, looking up to mumble “Tonight’s dinner you ordered wasn’t very good,” his heart, rock-solid outside, would instantly soften.
Living with a kind person was like having orchids in the room.
Just her sitting there made everything around her just right.
She quietly lived their romantic little world genuinely.
…
Sheng Xia was invited to participate in a “Word Analysis” variety show and unexpectedly met a familiar face.
“Sheng Xia.”
“Chen Mengyao.”
“Mm, it’s been a long time since anyone called me by that name.”
Chen Mengyao had taken a stage name and had been maintaining a modest career these years. People like Sheng Xia, who completely ignored the entertainment industry, wouldn’t know about her.
“I often watch your videos though,” Chen Mengyao said. “I’ve even bought your books.”
Sheng Xia was surprised, “Oh no, I’ve been exposed.”
Chen Mengyao lowered her voice: “Just pretending, haven’t read them much.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“I often see news about your husband,” Chen Mengyao said thoughtfully. “Didn’t expect him to become so impressive. How to put it… although I knew he would be very successful, this successful—it suddenly feels quite magical…”
Sheng Xia pressed her lips together, nodding slightly. She could understand Chen Mengyao’s meaning.
The conversation couldn’t continue, and the atmosphere suddenly grew quiet. As former “love rivals,” they didn’t have much to talk about, with acceptance mixed with a subtle awkwardness.
“But Sheng Xia, you’ve written so many books, written about so many people, why haven’t you thought about writing about him?” Chen Mengyao suddenly asked.
Since starting their conversation, Chen Mengyao hadn’t once mentioned Zhang Shu’s name. Perhaps saying it would feel like scratching at the cinnabar on her heart.
“Being misunderstood is the fate of those who express,” Sheng Xia looked up, speaking slowly. “I can’t write about him.”
Writing about others, she could pick up her pen confidently, without restraint. Historical figures wouldn’t be changed by her few words.
But not him.
Her shallow words weren’t enough to support a Zhang Shu.
Chen Mengyao seemed to half-understand, suddenly sighing: “Ah, it’s a bit of a pity. How to say it… he’s that regret in many people’s youth, including mine.”
That day the show ran late, and Zhang Shu drove to the TV station to pick up Sheng Xia. As they were leaving, they passed Chen Mengyao’s agency’s business car.
“Zhang Shu!” Chen Mengyao suddenly rolled down her window and called out.
Zhang Shu instinctively looked over. Chen Mengyao’s car didn’t stop, just slowed down, and she was seen smiling and waving.
Only after the business car disappeared around the corner did Zhang Shu realize who it was, lowering his head with a laugh.
Sheng Xia leaned over, studying him.
As a businessman, Zhang Shu had shed his boyishness—his handsome brows and neat swept-back hair perfectly embodied the word “elite.”
But his eyes were still as clean as ever, occasionally gleaming with cunningness. At least when looking at her, they held no distracting thoughts.
“You’re the regret in how many people’s youth?” Sheng Xia murmured.
Zhang Shu pecked her lower lip, “Met an old classmate and getting sentimental? What did you talk about?”
“About you,” Sheng Xia deliberately troubled him, putting on a worried expression. “After so many years she still recognized you—do you still think about her?”
“Never thought about her, how could I not forget?”
Sheng Xia sat up straight, leaning back against the seat, commenting: “Heartless.”
Zhang Shu laughed, starting the car.
The city’s brilliant night scenery flew past the car windows, music playing inside as Zhang Shu hummed along occasionally.
Sheng Xia suddenly felt it wasn’t much different from sitting on the back of his little electric scooter back then.
They were just themselves.
“Husband,” she suddenly called softly.
“Mm?”
“Husband.”
“Mm.”
“Husband, husband, husband.”
“Stop calling, can’t drive fast up here.”
“…”
Back home, Sheng Xia paid the price for her moment of sentimentality.
The satisfied man got up to cook, his humming drifting from the kitchen.
Sheng Xia got up, walking through the living room to the study.
The TV was on, showing his half-finished game. The cat lay on the sofa, quietly observing everything in the room.
Sheng Xia sat at her desk, typing the opening of her new work—
[July was ending, the long rains had ceased, the sun blazed high, heaven and earth were crystal clear.]
[The summer campus was deserted, cicadas hiding in the camphor trees sang tirelessly.]
[Welcome back to the summer named after you.]