Zhou Shiyu, Have We Met Before?

During Tuesday’s lunch break, Xiao Ming, who was out on errands, made a detour to find Sheng Sui and deliver the qingtuan her mother had sent last night.

“Your school’s activities are quite well done. On my way here, I saw many beautiful banners and slogans.”

With students napping in the classroom and two teachers supervising, Sheng Sui stole some free time to take her to the office, listening to Xiao Ming’s commentary along the way: “After knowing you for so long, this is the first time I’ve truly learned about autism-related knowledge.”

April 2nd was World Autism Awareness Day. Every year the school hung promotional slogans in various places, positioning them prominently for people to appreciate and read.

“It would be even better if we could expand the publicity scope,” the two sat down in the office as Sheng Sui poured water for Xiao Ming. “Most people who come here already understand the relevant knowledge, so the actual impact isn’t significant.”

“True,” Xiao Ming sighed without dwelling too much on it. “Speaking of which, with Qingming holiday coming up, want to go to the park together for spring outings? Near my place, you can see kids flying kites in the park every day now.”

Sheng Sui hesitated: “Let me see.”

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Ming immediately noticed something amiss.

With three days off for the holiday, remembering Zhou Shiyu’s words before leaving about wanting to take her out, and after that crazy phone call that night, Sheng Sui had drowsily suggested wanting to accompany him.

She thought Zhou Shiyu would readily agree, but until she fell asleep there was no answer. When she asked again the next day after waking up, she only got vague responses.

Honestly, she didn’t quite understand the reason for being politely declined.

That night when Zhou Shiyu invited her, his eyes sparkled like brilliant stars. Even later during their phone conversation, the man’s tone and state sounded much more cheerful and upbeat than usual.

Though it differed from his usual calm gentleness, she thought being in good spirits couldn’t be a bad thing.

Moreover, Zhou Shiyu was already far more mature than his peers, so being more lively would actually suit his age better.

Now for some unknown reason, the man didn’t want her to come.

In interpersonal relationships, Sheng Sui tended toward being passive. The rare time she took initiative, she was politely refused.

Thinking of this, Sheng Sui found it both amusing and exasperating, consulting the social expert across from her: “Actually, I want to visit my… my husband in another city during Qingming holiday, but I’m afraid of disturbing his work.”

“I figured as much,” Xiao Ming saw through her hesitation at a glance, lamenting that Sheng Sui valued romance over friendship. “What do you want to do? Have your husband accompany you around town? Or have him cook for you?”

“Of course not,” Sheng Sui shook her head in denial. Not good at expressing longing, her ears heated up as she gripped the cup tightly.

“I just… just miss him a little.”

Warm noon light fell outside the window, outlining the speaking woman’s beautiful features: her fair, pink-tinged face carried a gentle smile, with shallow dimples beside her lips. Even if not stunning at first sight, her serene, peaceful aura was captivating.

Hearing this, Xiao Ming kept tsk-ing: “Women in love really are different – every sentence reeks of sour sweetness.”

Sheng Sui didn’t think she was showing off: “When you used to travel for work, I would miss you and come visit too.”

“…Fair point,” Xiao Ming couldn’t refute this, returning to the earlier topic. “How much trouble could you be? Your own wife traveling thousands of miles to spend the holiday with you – any normal person would be overjoyed.”

“Besides, who doesn’t like surprises? Maybe your husband is dying for you to come but is just being stubborn.”

This obviously made more logical sense. Sheng Sui nodded thoughtfully while Xiao Ming’s phone vibrated. After taking the call, she hurriedly prepared to leave.

“Let me tell you,” on the way to escort her out of school, Xiao Ming walked while cursing, “Everyone at Cheng He from top to bottom are workaholic psychos.”

“Especially that Zhou Shiyu!”

Before getting in the taxi, Xiao Ming was still indignant: “Last night our team of over ten people worked until 3:30 AM to submit the final draft, and this guy sent an email before 4 AM killing it and demanding a redo – doesn’t this guy ever sleep?!”

Sheng Sui was slightly stunned hearing this.

Still not asleep at 4 AM last night – but when Zhou Shiyu called her at 11:30 PM last night, he clearly said he was about to rest.

Regarding Zhou Shiyu’s high-intensity work, since cohabiting after marriage, except for that all-nighter, Sheng Sui rarely had a real sense of it.

More intuitive for her was perhaps that morning when she came to the kitchen and saw her husband’s pale complexion from staying up late.

Due to her own diabetes, Sheng Sui understood the importance of physical health better than anyone. The few times she was dissatisfied with Zhou Shiyu were also because she felt he didn’t take enough care of his body.

Let me go see him.

Even if she could do very little, it was better than being indifferent. If she disturbed his work, she could just pay for another room.

Zhou Shiyu would never be angry with her anyway.

Moreover, what if it really was as Xiao Ming said – Zhou Shiyu actually wanted her to come but just hadn’t explicitly said so?

Increasingly convinced by her friend’s logic that “no one dislikes surprises,” Sheng Sui made up her mind to go to Jingbei.

After booking her flight that evening, she called Secretary Chen, asking him to come pick up Ping’An when convenient.

Secretary Chen expressed surprise at her call while explaining he could come anytime that suited Sheng Sui.

Before hanging up, the usually steady and reliable man couldn’t help but say: “CEO Zhou cares very much about Teacher Sheng. If he sees you there, he’ll definitely be very happy.”

These words meant her appearance wouldn’t affect the man’s work. Sheng Sui smiled: “Then I’ll trouble Secretary Chen to look after Ping’An these two days.”

“Please don’t worry.”

Sheng Sui’s flight was Thursday at 4 PM. Fifteen minutes before boarding, she didn’t forget to call Zhou Shiyu.

With the holiday approaching, the departure hall was bustling. Sheng Sui chose a relatively quiet spot: “Working late tonight, might contact you later.”

Having never been good at lying since childhood, worried the background noise might give her away, her heart excited but unable to show it, she could only lower her head and grip her luggage handle tightly.

After a few seconds of silence, Zhou Shiyu wasn’t suspicious: “…Alright, be careful on your way home from work. Call me when you get home.”

Hearing the man’s voice was much hoarser than last night, Sheng Sui couldn’t help but care: “Didn’t you rest well last night?”

“No,” the tone on the other end lifted slightly, Zhou Shiyu’s response gentle and concise, “Talked too much in meetings.”

“Oh, okay.”

These past few days, their phone conversations lasted two to three hours. Sheng Sui habitually expected Zhou Shiyu to ask about her day, but after waiting, he didn’t speak.

Seeing boarding time approaching and not wanting the man to hear the announcements, she casually said a few words before hanging up.

The journey to Jingbei required nearly three hours of flight. Sheng Sui felt a bit airsick and slept deeply the whole way.

When meals were served midway, a kind flight attendant woke Sheng Sui, asking what she’d like to drink and whether she wanted beef or chicken rice.

Sheng Sui hesitated for a few seconds between eating and taking her injection, finally declining the meal box and only asking for water, receiving a paper box containing small cakes and yogurt with nuts.

Soon, the subtle sounds of unwrapping food filled her ears. Everyone on the plane was enjoying their meals.

Sheng Sui quietly put the snack box in her backpack, her excitement about the trip dampening somewhat.

Having been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes for thirteen years, she could skillfully use comforting phrases like “your body just lacks certain elements,” “as long as you inject on time and maintain healthy routines, you’re like normal people,” and “who doesn’t get sick these days?” to console herself.

Only in extremely occasional moments would she feel out of place with other “normal people” in society.

Emotional triggers were often trivial daily matters, like now, when seeing everyone around her able to eat and drink freely while she needed to inject fifteen minutes before eating even a piece of fruit – she still had moments she couldn’t convince herself through.

She inevitably wondered why, among so many healthy people in this world, there couldn’t be room for one more – her.

“……”

Fortunately, the low mood was brief. Sheng Sui spent the latter half of the journey sleeping until the plane landed smoothly.

Secretary Chen had sent the hotel address in advance.

During the taxi ride, Sheng Sui discovered that Jingbei wasn’t as backward and rundown as Zhou Shiyu had described. While not as bustling as Shanghai, it at least had the prosperity of a second or third-tier city.

Looking at the rapidly receding cityscape outside the car window, Sheng Sui suddenly realized that what Zhou Shiyu said the night before leaving either didn’t match reality or was inconsistent with his later statements.

Combined with his high spirits these past few days, though these were minor harmless matters, they indeed didn’t match Zhou Shiyu’s steady, mature image.

The taxi stopped in front of the hotel. Sheng Sui thanked the kind driver who helped with her luggage and entered the lobby, preparing to take the elevator directly up, only to be told that accessing the top floor required a special elevator card.

She thanked the front desk staff and was about to call Zhou Shiyu when a familiar lazy male voice suddenly sounded behind her.

“Teacher Sheng?”

Liang Xubai stood behind her holding a sketch pad. In the April weather, he wasn’t afraid of the cold, wearing only a light gray shirt, smiling as he watched Sheng Sui turn around:

“Coming to find Zhou Shiyu – a surprise inspection?”

“No, school’s on holiday so I came over.”

Remembering his mention of looking after Zhou Shiyu during their phone call, Sheng Sui smiled and greeted him, her gaze falling on the sketch pad in his hands: “Are you planning to go out sketching, Mr. Liang?”

“Nothing else to do, came out to draw some figure sketches.”

Liang Xubai handed over the sketch pad, looking down as Sheng Sui leaned in with interest, his peach blossom eyes observing her reaction: “Capturing behavioral details helps greatly with psychological work too.”

Sheng Sui was stunned.

She thought Liang Xubai was just a flower shop owner, not expecting his main job to actually be a psychologist?

The paper showed drawings of passing hotel guests and staff – simple, casual lines that captured facial expressions, demeanor, and body language vividly with just a few strokes.

“Amazing,” genuinely admiring his artistic skill, Sheng Sui felt Liang Xubai was quite different from her impression of psychologists, asking curiously:

“If you’re a psychologist, can you still manage the flower shop regularly?”

“That’s why I set up my consultation room in the flower shop.”

Liang Xubai looked at her with a smile, his tone leisurely: “But April spring season is indeed peak time for various mental illness relapses. Afraid patients might all come at once, I could only escape here in advance.”

“……”

Sheng Sui twitched her lips: “Mr. Liang has quite a sense of humor.”

Liang Xubai didn’t argue, just smiled slightly: “I heard Teacher Sheng works in special education. There’s a question I’ve been curious about for a long time – may I ask today?”

“Please go ahead.”

“To some extent, we both face groups society defines as ‘abnormal people.’ My job is helping patients alleviate or ease pathological symptoms, while Teacher Sheng helps students build cognition, enabling them to reconnect with the world as much as possible.”

“But I recently discovered that some people, though belonging to so-called ‘normal people,'” Liang Xubai paused slightly, the amusement in his eyes fading somewhat, “suffer equally due to intimate relationships with patients as lovers, spouses, family members, or blood relatives.”

“These people don’t know how to communicate with or get along with patients, nor can they alleviate their loved ones’ painful conditions, so they can only sink deeper in daily companionship and torment.”

Liang Xubai snapped his fingers, throwing the topic back to Sheng Sui: “As a special education teacher, Mrs. Zhou must have seen similar situations with student parents.”

“Have you observed how they persevere?”

Sheng Sui noticed his sudden change in address but was first caught by the question.

“If people only think about suffering, they indeed can’t persevere.”

She pondered for a moment, carefully choosing her words: “But at least within my understanding, the suffering Mr. Liang mentioned isn’t everything.”

Among her students, some never spoke all day, some screamed for no reason, some soiled themselves, and some even hurt others.

But simultaneously, these children would slowly greet her, come over during breaks to nuzzle her hand with their faces, and run anxiously from far away at the school gate just to throw themselves into her arms.

Pain certainly existed, but undeniably, happiness accompanied it as well.

“I regret that I’ve never discussed these pains with student parents,” Sheng Sui shook her head helplessly, hesitating before offering her shallow perspective:

“But in my view, if we don’t see persistence merely as behavior, but as a choice made after weighing pros and cons under various factors like emotions, perhaps Mr. Liang’s question would be easier to explain.”

“…Persistence isn’t behavior, but a choice made after weighing pros and cons…”

Liang Xubai squinted his peach blossom eyes, murmuring Sheng Sui’s words with interest: “Pain can’t make people persist, but happiness can.”

Knowing he understood her meaning, Sheng Sui smiled: “Yes, just like people can choose happiness. Sometimes what others see as suffering might be choices made for future happiness.”

Liang Xubai clapped appreciatively: “Good thing Teacher Sheng didn’t become a psychologist, or I’d lose my job.”

“This isn’t my own realization,” Sheng Sui’s smile was gentle as she looked down at the red string bracelet on her left wrist, her gaze soft.

“Those words were taught to me by Zhou Shiyu.”

He said no one’s family of origin is perfect – if you don’t have a family, build one yourself.

He said no one marries to learn independence.

He said sometimes being needed is also a very happy thing.

“Most of my understanding about intimate relationships comes from my husband. Mr. Liang could chat with him more in the future.”

Five minutes passed and Sheng Sui’s message to Zhou Shiyu still had no reply. She looked up from her phone screen: “Could you take me to the top floor? Zhou Shiyu might be busy with work and hasn’t seen my text.”

“Of course,” Liang Xubai smiled: “It would be my honor.”

The two rode the elevator in silence, walking on soft carpet to the door at the corridor’s end.

As Sheng Sui was about to knock, Liang Xubai beside her took out a room card from his pocket, his slender fingertip spinning the card.

“Teacher Sheng should sense that this guy sometimes doesn’t value his life much.”

Under Sheng Sui’s puzzled gaze, Liang Xubai patiently explained: “To prevent him from suddenly dying inside, I kept a spare room card.”

He placed the card in Sheng Sui’s palm, pretending to breathe a sigh of relief: “But since you’re here, I’ll leave him in your care from now on.”

After speaking, the man put his hands in his pockets, humming a tune with curved lips, quickly disappearing around the corridor corner.

Sheng Sui stood alone at the door at the corridor’s end, looking down as she inserted the room card into the slot and pushed the door open.

Seamless black.

Completely different from her imagined warmly lit hotel room, everything was pitch dark. Even the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room’s half-wall were tightly sealed with blackout curtains, not allowing half a ray of light from the outside world to enter.

Like the threshold at the door served as a watershed – outside was light, one step further in was an endless abyss.

Sheng Sui stood stunned for a moment, suddenly feeling at a loss.

Liang Xubai said Zhou Shiyu had worked around the clock for several days and could finally sleep today, but if he was sleeping in the bedroom, did the living room need to be blacked out too?

Her mood was silently gripped by the dark environment. Sheng Sui left her luggage in the entryway and, after a few seconds of adjusting to the darkness, walked toward the bedroom, carefully pushing open the door.

The bedroom was equally dark and silent, fortunately with a lit computer screen as the only light source, allowing Sheng Sui to see the man sleeping on his side on the bed.

Counting, she hadn’t seen Zhou Shiyu for five days.

Completely unaware of her intrusion, the man slept defenseless with his face toward Sheng Sui, but his sleep was restless even in dreams, his handsome brows tightly furrowed.

Sheng Sui thought Zhou Shiyu must have been staying up late these past few days again – no wonder he didn’t want her to come.

The distressing tenderness mixed with displeasure made her move carefully forward, half-kneeling on the soft carpet, breathing warmth into her palms before raising her hand to smooth the man’s furrowed brow.

The moment skin touched skin, the sleeping person suddenly woke as if startled, his body tensing before opening his eyes. Only after seeing who it was did he slowly react.

Probably from work fatigue, Zhou Shiyu’s usually bright eyes even in darkness now seemed slow to focus.

Knowing Zhou Shiyu was sleeping poorly from consecutive all-nighters, but having heard his high spirits during phone calls these past few days, even last night’s smooth flirting on the phone, Sheng Sui found it hard to accept the contrast of seeing the man’s restless sleep and immediate awakening at the slightest touch.

She wasn’t quite sure how there could be such a huge difference in just one day.

Chaotic thoughts seemed like small thorns stuck crosswise in her throat – neither up nor down, impossible to ignore despite the dilemma.

The man’s grip on her hand was shockingly cold. After a few seconds, Sheng Sui heard Zhou Shiyu ask uncertainly in a hoarse voice:

“…Is this real?”

Sheng Sui suddenly remembered the last time she encountered Zhou Shiyu with a high fever at the hospital – the man’s first reaction was also to ask if she before him was real.

The reason for asking this – had there been fake versions of her before?

“…It’s real,” without warning, looking at her husband still handsome despite his difficult awakening, she suddenly blurted out:

“Zhou Shiyu, have we met before?”

Author’s Note: Regarding Xiao Zhou’s condition, some people in the comments have guessed it. I’ll write this part slowly and carefully, hoping not to make it too abrupt ww

Finally asking for comments and nutrient solution, this is very important to me

Thank you so much for everyone’s support, I’ll continue working hard!