The stranger’s footsteps grew fainter and fainter.

Zhu Wenshu was still stunned, gradually recovering the strength to support her body in the small space formed by Ling Chen’s arm and chest.

Not until the man’s figure completely disappeared at the end of the corridor did Ling Chen let out a breath.

“I thought it was a paparazzi shot.”

He released her, his hand suspended in the air for a moment, then patted Zhu Wenshu’s head.

“Let’s go.”

Oh, so that was it.

Now knowing the reason, Zhu Wenshu still couldn’t quickly extract herself from that intimate contact. She stood for a few seconds before turning to follow Ling Chen into the private room.

After they sat down, neither of them spoke.

Zhu Wenshu lowered her eyes, the scent still seeming to linger around the tip of her nose from Ling Chen’s body.

Faint, barely there, pleasant somehow, but not the scent of cologne.

“Hello, here’s the menu.”

The waiter’s voice interrupted Zhu Wenshu’s thoughts—

A full five minutes passed.

The waiter stood by the table, several times about to speak, only to be pushed back by the strange atmosphere in the private room.

The man wouldn’t speak, still wearing a mask, his cap pulled low, occasionally flipping through the menu but never saying what he wanted, looking utterly absent-minded.

The woman across from him wasn’t much better—she’d earnestly flipped through the entire menu but hadn’t ordered anything either, making it feel like some superior had come to conduct an anonymous inspection.

Only the waiter didn’t realize that the silence between these two people came from entirely different sources.

One hadn’t yet recovered from the earlier incident; the other was gripping her fist at the prices on the menu.

“May I ask,” the waiter finally couldn’t help but speak, “would you like me to introduce some dishes?”

Ling Chen glanced at her, then simply closed the menu and asked the person across from him, “Teacher Zhu, would you like that?”

“Huh? No need.”

Zhu Wenshu focused her gaze, hurriedly flipping through a couple more pages, staring intently for a moment before pointing at a set meal and saying, “How about this two-person set?”

Ling Chen: “Sure.”

The waiter stepped forward to collect the menus, saying at the same time, “This set’s main dish, Spanish mountain ham, Jamón Serrano, is air-dried naturally for over a year, seasoned simply with only coarse salt, and will be freshly sliced by the chef shortly…”

“Huh?”

Zhu Wenshu only caught one key point. “What kind of leg/ham?”

Waiter: “Spanish mountain ham.”

“Oh.” Zhu Wenshu nodded. “Then let’s go with this.”

“Alright.”

After the waiter took the menus and left the room, Ling Chen finally began taking off his cap and mask.

Zhu Wenshu watched his unhurried movements, and in that brief moment already anticipated that once he finished, the two of them would fall into silence again.

It wasn’t the first time they’d met either—they’d had meals alone together before.

It was only because of the little incident just before entering that had shattered the calm composure she’d expected of herself.

“Spanish mountain ham is raw, isn’t it?”

After a while, Zhu Wenshu decided to find something to say just for the sake of talking. “I rarely eat raw things.”

“Mm.”

Ling Chen carefully folded his mask, not looking up at her. “Then why didn’t you order the chicken leg just now?”

“…What chicken leg costs five hundred and fifty.”

Zhu Wenshu muttered, “The one at our school cafeteria is only five yuan fifty.”

“Wasn’t it three fifty?”

Ling Chen picked up smoothly.

“I’m talking about the teachers’ cafeteria at Experimental Elementary, not our No. 1 High cafeteria.”

Zhu Wenshu smiled. “I didn’t expect you to still remember something so trivial.”

Ling Chen still didn’t look up, only giving a low “mm.”

Several years ago, before prices had shot up, their high school cafeteria’s braised chicken leg had cost only three yuan fifty.

In senior year, the workload was heavy, with extra evening study sessions added, and every day’s lunch and dinner were handled at the school cafeteria. Every Wednesday noon, the braised chicken leg at the cafeteria was almost one of the few remaining pleasures in Zhu Wenshu’s dull studying life.

One morning, Zhu Wenshu had gotten up late, barely eaten breakfast, and rushed off to school.

After several classes she was starving, eating the relief snack bread Zhong Ya had given her in the hallway, mumbling with her mouth full that she’d need to buy two chicken legs at lunch today to make up for how hungry she’d been.

Who would have thought that in the last math class, the teacher dragged on going over the test paper.

Students from other classes got out of class noisily, and passing by their classroom, laughed and horsed around without any restraint at all, making everyone’s hearts itch with envy.

After a while, a few students from the arts and sports track in the back rows began slipping out of the classroom one by one, and the teacher didn’t stop them either, continuing to go through the questions at an unhurried pace.

“So what set is this?”

Zhu Wenshu hadn’t expected no one in class to answer, so it was just her, rubbing her stomach, listlessly drawing out the syllables: “Emp—ty set—”

Laughter erupted below.

“Subset!”

Hearing that it was Zhu Wenshu who’d answered, the teacher’s voice finally carried a note of emotion. “All of you so listless, forgetting even first-year content—how are you going to take the college entrance exam like this?”

A few mild scoldings had no real effect.

Zhu Wenshu watched, through the glass reflections in the door and windows, one classmate after another slip away, feeling quite put out, fidgeting restlessly in her seat, picking at her fingers, not taking in a single word, her mind filled entirely with chicken legs.

Sure enough.

By the time the teacher finished the lesson and class was dismissed, when she and Zhong Ya rushed to the cafeteria, the braised chicken legs had indeed already sold out.

Settling for a few leftover dishes to fill herself halfway, Zhu Wenshu walked back to the classroom full of complaints.

Her seat was in the first row. As soon as she walked in the door, she saw a clear plastic bag sitting on her desk, containing the braised chicken leg she’d been longing for.

“Whose chicken leg is this?”

Zhu Wenshu asked.

The classmates in the room were either napping or grinding through problem sets, and no one answered her.

“If no one claims it, I’m eating it.”

The boy at the desk behind her finally spoke up.

“You didn’t buy it? It was already there when I came back.”—

“To this day I still don’t know which hero was the one who took pity on me.”

At the dinner table, Zhu Wenshu finished rambling through this story and concluded as much.

“Hero?”

Ling Chen picked up his water glass. “That serious?”

“That serious. I was happy the whole day because of it,” Zhu Wenshu said. “If I ever find out which boy left it, I’ll treat him to ten servings of chicken legs right now.”

“…How do you know it was a boy.”

Zhu Wenshu brushed back her hair, sighing with exaggerated affect. “Zhong Ya said at the time it might’ve been someone who had a crush on me, buying it for me.”

The glass swayed slightly; Ling Chen took a small sip of tea, responding to her in a low voice.

“Maybe so.”

“But thinking about it now, probably not.”

Zhu Wenshu shook her head. “What boy would give a girl he liked a big chicken leg? Back then it was all Ferrero Rocher and things like that.”

As she spoke, the waiter pushed the door open and came in to serve the dishes.

Ling Chen turned skillfully to face away from the person, picking up his phone and swiping at it.

Once the waiter left, Zhu Wenshu saw him turn back around, thinking to herself that the topic she’d worked so hard to find had finally gotten them through the awkward wait for the food, so she picked up her knife and fork, ready to eat.

“So did you eat it?”

Ling Chen asked abruptly.

“Huh?”

Zhu Wenshu’s knife and fork froze in midair. “Of course I ate it.”

Ling Chen stared at her and asked, “You dared eat something someone left there without knowing who?”

What he said made sense. If it were the Zhu Wenshu of now, she’d definitely be cautious.

But back then she was only a teenager, hadn’t yet stepped beyond the innocence of school life, and hadn’t thought about it that much.

“I was a little worried at the time, but I figured the classroom had security cameras, so if something went wrong I could just check the footage and make whoever it was pay me back.”

“Sounds like nothing went wrong.”

Ling Chen smiled very perfunctorily, then summarized carelessly, pushing the plate of raw sliced ham in front of her, “This ham isn’t anonymous—eat it without worry, Teacher Zhu.”

Fine, then.

Looks like Superstar Ling had no interest in these trivial little stories she was telling him, so she’d better just keep quiet and eat.

But this meal was actually a bit of a trial for Zhu Wenshu.

She chewed very earnestly, slowly, savoring it again and again, unable to understand why this ham was worth a month of her salary.

Was pork worth more than she was?

Finally, she looked at the plate of oranges the waiter had said came from Australia.

After eating a couple of bites, Zhu Wenshu wiped her mouth, staring at them speechlessly.

“Not tasty?”

Seeing Zhu Wenshu’s odd expression, Ling Chen asked, “Too sour?”

“No.”

Zhu Wenshu took a breath, picked up her bag, and prepared to go pay the bill.

Before stepping away, she said, “It’s just that they just honestly confessed to me—they’ve never even been to Australia.”

Ling Chen: “…”

He watched Zhu Wenshu’s back as she marched off as if heading into battle, and only after a long while did he look away.

Staring at the exquisite plate in front of him, an image surfaced in his mind of the greasy chicken legs from the high school cafeteria.

“Hero.”

He laughed softly, murmuring to himself.

A few minutes later, the private room door was pushed open, and a head poked in.

“You already paid?”

“It wasn’t me.”

Zhu Wenshu: “Huh?”

Ling Chen turned to look at her.

“Might’ve been some unnamed hero who paid.”

Knowing he was joking, Zhu Wenshu was speechless for a few seconds, then asked, “…How much was it, anyway?”

Not sure if that included the seating fee or service charge or whatever.

“What?”

Ling Chen said while putting on his mask, “Want to split it with me?”

Zhu Wenshu thought to herself that she didn’t mean that at all, but what came out of her mouth was, “It’s not out of the question.”

Ling Chen seemed to laugh once, said nothing more, and after putting on his mask and cap, stood up and walked toward her.

As they brushed past each other, he casually patted Zhu Wenshu’s head. “Alright, let’s go.”

Ever since becoming an adult, very few people had shown Zhu Wenshu this kind of affectionate gesture.

She stood rooted in place, watching Ling Chen’s fingers casually catch a strand of her hair, which slipped free and was blown by a gust of air to the tip of her nose.

There it was again.

That faint, barely-there fragrance—

Ling Chen noticed that Zhu Wenshu, who’d still had plenty to talk about at the dinner table, had gone quiet again once she got in the car.

She sat quietly alone in the passenger seat, neither looking at her phone nor at him.

So Ling Chen didn’t rush to start the car either.

He sat for a while, and seeing Zhu Wenshu still not speaking, asked, “You—”

He’d only gotten one word out when his phone rang inconveniently.

Ling Chen glanced at the caller ID, then picked up.

Zhu Wenshu, who’d been drifting off, gradually had her attention pulled back by the sound of his voice.

She listened for a long while before belatedly realizing he was talking about work, something about lighting effects.

Once he hung up and she saw him start the car without hesitation, she asked, “Do you need to go handle something?”

“Mm.”

Ling Chen responded, then turned to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

She just found it strange—if he was this busy, why had he still leisurely accompanied her through dinner.

Suddenly, Zhu Wenshu’s phone rang too, though it was just a WeChat message.

[Shi Xue’er]: Teacher Zhu, am I bothering you? Why won’t you reply to my messages [pitiful]

Zhu Wenshu hurriedly scrolled up and found she really hadn’t replied to a message from the day before yesterday.

[Zhu Wenshu]: No, no, that day too many people were messaging me and I forgot.

[Shi Xue’er]: Oh oh, do you have time to chat now?

[Zhu Wenshu]: I have time, what’s up?

[Shi Xue’er]: Nothing big, just want to gossip with you a bit.

[Shi Xue’er]: Didn’t Ling Chen come to your grade’s sports meet that day? Sensen said he almost had Ling Chen thrown out as a suspicious person. What about you? Did you see Ling Chen? Does he look the same in person as on TV?

Zhu Wenshu glanced sideways at the man beside her.

Mm, the same.

Even better-looking than on TV, actually.

[Zhu Wenshu]: He was wearing a mask and sunglasses at the time, I didn’t really pay attention.

[Shi Xue’er]: Oh oh, then what about his nephew? Is he well-behaved? Does he look like him?

[Zhu Wenshu]: Pretty well-behaved, doesn’t look much like him.

[Shi Xue’er]: I’m so envious of you, we’re both teachers, why didn’t I get the luck to teach his nephew, maybe you’ll get to see him at school again in the future.

[Shi Xue’er]: Waaah when that happens you have to help me get a good look at him.

Zhu Wenshu glanced at Ling Chen again.

Thinking to herself, not only can I see him at school, I’m sitting in his car right now.

Perhaps because she was lost in thought, she suddenly met Ling Chen’s gaze looking over at her, and inexplicably flustered, she just froze like that.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

Ling Chen asked.

Zhu Wenshu blinked, thinking herself quite witty as she said, “One of your fans asked me to get a good look at you a few times for her.”

Ling Chen showed no particular expression, saying indifferently, “If it’s for someone else, I charge a fee.”

Meaning if I look, there’s no charge?

Zhu Wenshu felt something stir inside her at this thought.

Shi Xue’er’s messages kept streaming in, but Zhu Wenshu had no mind left to reply—

Night had already blanketed the city.

Getting out of the car, Zhu Wenshu was a bit distracted.

That wasn’t quite accurate either—for instance, she’d just walked a few steps and hadn’t heard the sound of the car driving off behind her, and she had a feeling Ling Chen would call out to stop her.

Sure enough, the next second.

“Zhu Wenshu.”

The evening wind passed through the treetops, carrying Ling Chen’s voice, blowing Zhu Wenshu’s hair astray.

After a good while, she turned around.

“What is it?”

Through the car window, Ling Chen lowered his chin slightly.

“You forgot your phone.”

“…Oh.”

Zhu Wenshu walked over silently, not opening the door, just reaching through the car window to pick up her phone.

Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, she looked up, and her eyes met Ling Chen’s.

On a night like this, under a moon like this, they gazed at each other for several seconds in the dim yellow glow of the car’s interior light.

She felt again that Ling Chen had something to say.

But he just wouldn’t say it.

Finally, Zhu Wenshu couldn’t help but ask, “Is there something else?”

“Nothing.”

Ling Chen said without much inflection.

Zhu Wenshu: “Oh…”

Saying goodbye, she walked toward the residential complex gate.

But as soon as she turned around, she took out her phone and glanced at Shi Xue’er’s messages.

Never in her dreams had she imagined that the distance between herself and her idol was just one child and one teacher away—she was especially excited, and even though Zhu Wenshu hadn’t replied, she kept sending several messages to herself.

[Shi Xue’er]: He actually went to his nephew’s parent-child sports meet, what an incredible good uncle waaah.

[Shi Xue’er]: Hey, you don’t know, Ling Chen doesn’t even go on variety shows normally, never appears in public unless necessary, everyone knows he’s an especially cold, detached person.

[Shi Xue’er]: So envious of his nephew, being doted on by Ling Chen, what must that feel like, waaah.

[Zhu Wenshu]: So what do you think

[Zhu Wenshu]: What kind of girl would someone like Ling Chen like?

[Shi Xue’er]: Huh?

[Zhu Wenshu]: Just chatting, I’m curious too.

[Shi Xue’er]: First let’s establish one thing, would he like an ordinary mortal?

[Zhu Wenshu]: ?

[Shi Xue’er]: It’s definitely only those female stars on TV as gorgeous as fairies who could catch his eye waaaaaah

[Shi Xue’er]: Wait, Teacher Zhu, did you find out something?

[Shi Xue’er]: Did he bring some female celebrity with him that day?

[Shi Xue’er]: Who, who, I’m so curious!

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Right.

She felt what Shi Xue’er said made a lot of sense.

Given the environment Ling Chen lived in, the people he interacted with daily were all stunning, world-toppling beauties.

How could he possibly turn his gaze toward an ordinary elementary school teacher.

Thinking of this, Zhu Wenshu suddenly laughed.

She figured she was probably just used to getting a fair amount of attention in her small circle, and so she’d grown too prone to flights of fancy.

That was Ling Chen!

Not some inexperienced young boy who’d never seen the world!

You can’t read into it just because he’s been coming to school more often out of concern for his nephew, and out of politeness treated you to a meal!

For all she knew, the moment he turned around and got home, he’d be off being intimate with some female star.

Who would even remember who you, Zhu Wenshu, were?

Just as she was thinking this, her phone suddenly buzzed again.

Assuming it was Shi Xue’er following up, Zhu Wenshu didn’t rush to check it, still replaying in her mind whether she’d shown any peacock-displaying behavior today.

Not until she got in the elevator did Zhu Wenshu confirm she definitely hadn’t made her foolish infatuation too obvious, and only then did she open her phone.

A new message popped up before her eyes.

[c]: Free this weekend?