Teacher Sheng, long time no see.
The day she encountered Zhou Shiyu was an ordinary sunny March day.
Though spring was still chilly, the morning sun poured down, and a cool breeze cautiously slipped through the bay window, afraid of disturbing the gravity that currently filled the teachers’ office.
Sheng Sui’s mood was far from one-tenth as beautiful as the weather.
“Two days! It’s only been two days since school started and my child is already injured!”
“Can’t even watch six children in one class? The school actually hired such an irresponsible teacher?”
The teachers’ office was quiet, only echoing with the questioning voice of the student’s mother from the other end of the phone, every word crystal clear.
Sheng Sui’s temples throbbed, forcing a smile: “Please don’t get agitated, the child only scraped some skin.”
“A small matter? Today it’s scraped skin, tomorrow it could be a broken leg. If this delays my son, can you afford the responsibility?”
“I don’t care, you must call the other party’s parents here today, or I’ll file a complaint against you with the Education Bureau!”
“……”
After the call ended, the office fell into deathly silence.
After a long while, Qi Yue, the math teacher sitting across from Sheng Sui, finally dared to raise her head and weakly apologized: “I’m sorry, the student got hurt during my class, but it caused you to get scolded.”
In special education schools, students are children with autism, ADHD, or intellectual disabilities. Injuries from conflicts, especially among younger children, aren’t uncommon.
The morning’s minor incident was actually quite simple: during Qi Yue’s class, a hyperactive child dropped steamed bun filling on his tablemate’s doll, and after the incident, was pushed by his tablemate and fell to the ground, screaming non-stop.
Hearing the commotion, Sheng Sui from the adjacent office rushed over to examine the student’s injuries.
Fortunately, it was just scraped skin on the face, with no injury to the head or eyes.
If this were a regular elementary school, a seven-year-old child scraping his face might not warrant specially notifying parents; but special education schools are different. Combined with the original homeroom teacher’s hasty departure and Sheng Sui having just taken over the new class two days ago, not yet having had individual communication with each parent, her first reaction after the child’s injury was to make a phone call.
This led to the earlier conversation.
“Thank goodness you were here today,” Qi Yue moved closer to Sheng Sui, still shaken, “if it were me, I would have been scolded to tears on the spot.”
Hearing this, Sheng Sui frowned slightly.
Avoiding responsibility shouldn’t be the first reaction after an incident.
Matters concerning students couldn’t be taken lightly, but dealing with newcomers, she still tried to be as tactful as possible, gently instructing: “No matter when, remember to keep half your attention on the students.”
“You’ll have to solve problems independently in the future.”
“Teacher Sheng is beautiful and kind-hearted, that’s why she’s willing to help me,” Qi Yue intimately wrapped her arm around her shoulder, her posture ingratiating, “I’ll treat you to milk tea when I have time.”
Seeing Sheng Sui didn’t respond, the young woman grabbed her hand and shook it lightly, looking pitiful: “Then about contacting the other party’s parents—”
“I’ll make the call, you go back to class to watch the students first,” knowing the other’s little schemes, Sheng Sui still softened, “definitely pay attention next time.”
“Got it, I knew you were the best.”
The sound of the door closing echoed as the large, empty office returned to silence.
As her smile faded, Sheng Sui rubbed the bridge of her nose to relieve fatigue. Looking up, she saw her own helpless expression reflected in the black computer screen.
Her appearance didn’t conform to the Western high-nosed, deep-eyed look popular in recent years, but rather embodied Eastern charm: soft and natural facial contours, delicate and refined features, and a pair of bright, not overly deep almond eyes that, when curved in a gentle smile, always gave people an innate sense of warmth and approachability, making others unable to resist drawing near.
Most people described her as kind and easy to get along with, though quite a few also said she was too soft-hearted.
Opening her office computer, Sheng Sui quickly found the document where the original homeroom teacher stored parent contact information and pulled up Zhou Yi’s family details.
Zhou Yi—the student who pushed his tablemate after his doll was soiled, also a child with autism.
There were two mobile numbers in the contact information. Sheng Sui used the school’s landline to dial the first one, hearing the prompt that the number was turned off.
So she had to dial the second number.
On the third ring, the call was finally answered.
“Hello, Zhou Yi’s parent,” Sheng Sui first identified herself, “I’m the child’s homeroom teacher, Sheng Sui.”
After briefly explaining the situation, she conveyed the other parent’s request: “Could you come to the school at five o’clock this afternoon?”
The signal on the other end seemed poor, as Sheng Sui received no response after asking her question.
She had to repeat the time and place word by word, like a solemn invitation to an appointment: “This afternoon at five o’clock, would it be convenient for you to come to school for a face-to-face discussion?”
Fortunately, communication was restored on the other end this time. After just a brief pause, he gave her a definitive response.
“……Alright.”
The person who answered the phone was male.
The man’s voice was clear and magnetic, slightly hoarse through the receiver, his tone courteous and refined: “I’ll be there on time.”
“I’ve been waiting all morning for you to reply to my text. How are you considering the blind date?”
At 11:30 AM, just as Sheng Sui was about to go to the cafeteria with her colleague for lunch, she received a call from her mother: “Aunt Liu says the man is very satisfied with your conditions. You should find time to meet soon.”
She had seen the message this morning—the usual marriage pressure routine.
Feeling helpless, Sheng Sui signaled for her colleague to go ahead, waiting until she was alone to explain: “I was working just now and didn’t check my phone.”
“How busy can you be that you can’t spare time to reply to a message? Don’t try to fool me.”
Her mother was dissatisfied with her evasiveness, her tone stern: “Are you not planning to go on this blind date at all?”
Sheng Sui’s silence was tantamount to agreement. A few seconds later, she heard her mother’s voice turn choked with emotion: “Xiao Sui, my health isn’t good. Who knows when I might be gone? My only wish is to see you marry a good person with my own eyes—”
“Mom, your breast cancer surgery was very timely. The doctor said that as long as you pay attention, it won’t affect your lifespan.”
Thinking of her mother’s suffering from illness last year, Sheng Sui ultimately had no choice but to compromise helplessly: “I agree to the blind date. The doctor said you shouldn’t always get angry. It’s not worth harming your health over such matters, okay?”
“You’re not lying to me?”
“I won’t. I’ll contact the matchmaker after work.”
“You’re almost thirty. The longer you delay, the harder it will be to get married,” her mother was finally somewhat satisfied, repeatedly instructing, “Mom is doing this for your own good. Don’t be like me back then, marrying a useless drunk like your father.”
Sheng Sui responded gently: “I understand, Mom. Remember to take your medicine on time.”
After hanging up, she threw her phone on the desk with relief, but the fact of being forced into a blind date weighed on her heart, making her restless and annoyed.
Having divorced parents since childhood, from Sheng Sui’s earliest memories, her parents meant endless fighting and violence, until later when her mother remarried and moved away, leaving her father to raise her alone.
From then on, her adolescence consisted only of her alcoholic father, occasional beatings, and endless gossip from neighbors.
Affected by her family of origin, Sheng Sui held no expectations for love and marriage, and had an instinctive aversion to conflict and arguments.
Just like now, to avoid arguing with her mother, she’d rather waste time on a blind date.
It’s just one meal, Sheng Sui consoled herself. The doctor advised that patients should maintain a cheerful mood—consider it trading two hours of her time for several days of her mother’s happiness.
In the adult world, who doesn’t have some involuntary circumstances?
Quickly adjusting her emotions in her seat, Sheng Sui forced a smile, grabbed her insulin pen, and got up to go to the restroom, locking the stall door.
Looking down, she lifted and rolled up the right side of her clothing, tore open an alcohol swab package, and felt the cool sensation of the swab wiping her waist and side.
Pinching some flesh on her flat abdomen with her left hand, Sheng Sui opened the pen cap with her right, mentally calculating the insulin dosage needed for lunch.
Then she looked down, aimed the half-centimeter-long thin needle at her skin, calmly and efficiently inserted the needle into her body, slowly injected the insulin, waited ten seconds, then withdrew the needle.
The entire process was seamless.
After all, she’d been repeating this routine since age fourteen when she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes—four times daily before meals and bedtime. It had become part of her life; it would be hard not to be proficient.
After lunch break, the afternoon classes were as busy as ever, and before she knew it, it was 4:30 PM dismissal time.
The two sets of parents were scheduled to meet in the conference room. Sheng Sui personally escorted the other four children out the school gate and instructed Qi Yue to watch the remaining two students.
After seeing off the students and returning to the office, when she reached the third floor of the teaching building, she received a call from Qi Yue.
Through the receiver, the young math teacher could barely contain her excitement: “Do you know, Teacher Sheng? Zhou Yi’s father is actually Zhou Shiyu! He’s right there in the third-floor conference room now. Go take a look quickly!”
Sheng Sui slowed her pace at the stairway corner, looking toward the conference room at the end of the corridor where people were gathering.
“…Zhou Shiyu?”
Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly as she carefully repeated the man’s name, feeling it was extraordinarily familiar.
Yesterday Zhou Yi was picked up by the family’s nanny after school, so she hadn’t met this so-called “father.”
Where exactly had she heard this name more than once?
“You actually don’t know Zhou Shiyu? He’s the one worth over ten billion, the venture capital mogul known for never missing a target! I heard he’s not even thirty yet, but he already has such a big child……”
Qi Yue’s excited voice echoed in her ears as Sheng Sui had already reached the conference room door.
Through the crowd of five or six onlookers, she could clearly see the man’s facial features inside the conference room, suddenly understanding where that earlier sense of familiarity had come from.
In a person’s life, they always encounter someone who, even if they’d had no previous interaction, even if time has passed for so long, simply because they themselves are stunning enough, will forever occupy a place in your memory.
At least for Sheng Sui, Zhou Shiyu was such an existence—
Throughout her three years of high school, she had heard countless legends about Zhou Shiyu. Before every major exam, she would secretly pray to the academic god, hoping to achieve good grades.
The man she had only seen in the school’s honor display was no longer young. Under everyone’s gaze, he sat leaning back against the sofa, his posture casual yet noble.
Zhou Shiyu wore a deep black suit of understated luxury, with a cold white shirt underneath and the jacket fitted at the narrow waist, the collar meticulously buttoned to the very top; along his slender neck upward were his Adam’s apple and sharp profile, thin pale lips, deep black eyes hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses, naturally emanating a mysterious and ascetic sense of cool detachment combined with restraint.
In front of the man, the director didn’t even dare to sit down, bowing repeatedly while pouring water: “For such a small matter to trouble you, Mr. Zhou, to come personally, we’re truly sorry.”
“Teacher Sheng was also reckless, how could she call your number—”
Zhou Shiyu lowered his eyes to watch the person bustling about in front of him, his hands resting flat on his crossed long legs, all ten fingers slender; even from a distance, Sheng Sui could clearly see the prominent joints and veins on the backs of his hands, full of strength.
Despite being called here to be confronted, Zhou Shiyu maintained an air of calm indifference. Though his lips carried a gentle and modest smile, he clearly possessed the bearing of someone accustomed to authority.
Only after the director brought the water to the table did the man unhurriedly nod slightly, his thin lips curving into a slight arc, his low voice warm and courteous: “Thank you.”
The director was overwhelmed by the honor: “No, no problem at all.”
“The director is usually so fierce, but now he’s cowering like this.”
“Please, look at who he’s facing. That’s Zhou Shiyu. The money he makes in one day is more than what we’d make in several lifetimes combined.”
“I heard the school’s new gymnasium and dormitory buildings were funded by him. Forget the director—even the principal would have to bow and scrape when meeting him.”
Colleagues in the corridor outside whispered among themselves. Soon someone noticed Sheng Sui, and they all consciously made way for her.
“Teacher Sheng went to see students off and will be back soon—”
The director’s explanations continued non-stop. Hearing the commotion at the door, he immediately looked over, and seeing it was Sheng Sui, hurriedly waved her over: “Xiao Sheng, come here. This is Mr. Zhou Shiyu.”
Realizing the other party’s distinguished status, Sheng Sui quickly walked into the conference room.
But Zhou Shiyu on the opposite side stood up first, waiting quietly for Sheng Sui to stand before him under everyone’s shocked gaze, his smile peaceful and gentle.
The two stood face to face, their significant height difference immediately obvious.
Though Sheng Sui’s height of nearly 170 cm was considered tall, she still needed to tilt her head slightly upward to meet Zhou Shiyu’s naturally lowered gaze.
Unlike his stern profile and imposing aura, the eyes behind his lenses, though deep and dark, upon closer inspection revealed just the right amount of gentle calm, like a spring breeze.
Elegant yet dignified, gentle yet profound—these seemingly contradictory descriptors all found perfect fusion in Zhou Shiyu.
Meeting his gaze directly, Sheng Sui remembered Qi Yue’s address on the phone and introduced herself first: “Hello, Zhou Yi’s father. I’m the child’s homeroom teacher, Sheng Sui.”
After speaking, the previously unperturbed man’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a barely perceptible surprise flashing through his eyes before disappearing.
Sheng Sui caught the micro-expression but didn’t think much of it.
Because the next second, Zhou Shiyu had already extended his hand toward her, his smile proper and courteous, elegant and graceful like a precious oil painting of a medieval nobleman come to life:
“Teacher Sheng, long time no see.”