The discussion segment ended, and the head-up rate in Jin Zhao’s class began to drop by the minute. But she was not willing to give up; even if a forced melon wasn’t sweet, it still had to be forced. Later, by drawing lots on the spot to call on students to answer questions and other methods, she once again pulled all the students’ attention back to the screen.

After all, they were still teenagers—afraid of being called on to answer questions themselves, yet eager to watch a classmate make a fool of themselves. So every time the on-site lottery started, the students became unusually enthusiastic, eyes shining, staring intently at the rapidly jumping names and student numbers on the screen. When the answer was revealed, the classroom instantly erupted in laughter.

Some even took the opportunity to use their phones to record the embarrassing moments of the classmate who got called on.

The two class periods passed quickly. After class, a student came up holding an English CET-4 practice exam to ask questions. Jin Zhao patiently finished explaining the problems, packed up her things, and left.

After exiting the classroom, she glanced at her phone. The department head had sent her a message, telling her to go to Fine Arts Building Room 419 to find Counselor Wang Nan to collect last night’s make-up exam papers, grade them, and upload the scores to the academic affairs system before September 28.

Last night’s make-up exam—according to the rules, the course instructor must go to the exam office to collect the students’ papers within ten minutes after the exam ends. Jin Zhao had only officially started teaching this semester; she was not last semester’s course instructor, so naturally she did not need to go collect them. What the director was now asking her to collect was actually Teacher Sun’s task. Teacher Sun was on maternity leave this semester, and two of the classes she previously taught had been assigned to Jin Zhao.

Attached were Teacher Sun’s employee number and the academic affairs system password.

Jin Zhao replied: Okay, Director.

This classroom was also on the fourth floor. To get to Fine Arts Building Room 419, she could go directly through the skybridge connecting the two buildings.

Wang Nan was a counselor from the Oil Painting Department and also a new teacher hired at the same time as her. During the summer provincial college teacher training, they had even sat at the same desk, and they had added each other on WeChat. On the way, Jin Zhao sent Wang Nan a message, asking if she was in the office.

Wang Nan quickly replied: I am, Zhaozhao. Are you coming over?

Jin Zhao typed while walking: Mm-hm, I’m coming to pick up last night’s make-up exam papers.

Wang Nan: They’re with me. I’m dealing with a student right now—just come in when you arrive.

In just a few lines of exchange, she arrived at 419. The office door was ajar, and Wang Nan’s voice came through the crack, carrying the unique irritation teachers have when dealing with troublesome kids: “Tell me, how could you cause such a huge mess? For the school anniversary, the university arranged open-air exhibitions at several landmark locations. The ceramics exhibition on Third Road had been prepared for months from start to finish, and the three centerpiece pieces were personally borrowed by the dean from the Suiyi Art Museum. And you—well done—you smashed them all. Not a single piece left intact. The dean asked me to give her an explanation. Tell me, how am I supposed to explain this to her?”

Standing in front of Wang Nan was a female student, slender from behind, with long curly hair, head lowered, apologizing timidly: “I’m sorry, teacher. I was wrong.”

Wang Nan’s expression was stern. She tapped the tabletop twice with her fingers and was about to continue when Jin Zhao pushed the door open, smiling as she called out, “Teacher Nan-nan, I’m here to get the exam papers!”

Seeing her, Wang Nan’s expression softened, and the scolding paused. She stood up from her chair, took a brown kraft paper document envelope resting on the printer, and handed it to her with a smile. “Here. There were six students taking the make-up exam, one was absent. Take a look.”

“Got it.” Jin Zhao took it.

Wang Nan asked casually, “You have class today?”

“Yeah, eight a.m., just finished.”

“Then lunch together?”

“Not today, unfortunately. My aunt called me to eat lunch—she said she booked Luxi Courtyard for a month and finally got a slot. How about the day after tomorrow? I have classes periods one and two that afternoon, I’ll come find you at noon.”

“Sure, let’s eat together the day after tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll head out first.” As Jin Zhao spoke, she lowered her head, opened her canvas bag, and put the document envelope inside.

Wang Nan turned her head, preparing to continue reprimanding the girl in front of her.

From the black leather sofa in the corner, a man who had been sitting quietly stood up.

“Please convey our apologies to the dean as well. In addition, for all the damaged exhibits this time, please calculate the amount and inform us—we will compensate in full at the assessed price, without shirking any responsibility.”

The sparse, cool timbre of the voice fell into the slightly cluttered office like, in the deep mountains of midsummer, at the moment of daybreak, the cold, clear dewdrops clinging to the tips of bamboo leaves.

Jin Zhao, who was lowering her head to pack the exam papers, felt her fingers tremble.

“Thud!”

Heavy—something suddenly dropped to the floor.

Jin Zhao looked down nervously. The document envelope was still clenched in her hand, the unconscious force making her fingernails turn white.

It was the teaching secretary who shared the office, returning with printing paper—bundles stacked one after another, a thick pile cradled in her arms. Careless upon entering, the top bundle slipped and fell to the ground.

“Teacher Wang, quick—quick, come help me!”

Wang Nan once again set aside the student who had made a mistake and stepped forward to help. “So much paper, why didn’t you borrow a little cart?”

“I picked it up from 406. I thought it was just a few steps.”

As she said “a few steps,” two more bundles fell to the ground.

Thud, thud…

Jin Zhao turned around. Unexpected, yet not unexpected, she collided head-on with a pair of pitch-black, large peach-blossom eyes.

They were the most beautiful eyes Jin Zhao had ever seen. The arcs of the upper and lower lids were distinct, the outer corners slightly drooping, lashes long—an eye shape that should have been affectionate and gentle, yet the irises were extremely dark, like dense ink that had yet to dissolve. Coupled with the fact that their owner had a very high nose bridge and sharply defined, three-dimensional features—more striking than even top-tier celebrities—it made those originally flirtatious eyes inexplicably exude a cold clarity and sharp edge.

He stood there, wearing a shirt and trousers with no discernible brand, tall and long-legged, one hand tucked into his pocket, his presence so powerful it could not be ignored.

He looked straight at Jin Zhao.

Jin Zhao looked back at him, her eyelashes giving a slight tremble.

She didn’t notice how Wang Nan went to help, nor did she see how the teaching secretary completely lost her balance. In any case, in the end, the entire stack of printing paper fell straight onto the floor.

Crackle and bang, chaos all around.

♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

The fallen printing paper knocked over the stacked color ink nearby, and the pale sheets were stained in rich, heavy hues.

By the time Jin Zhao came back to herself, she was already helping to clean up.

This was not her office, so naturally she didn’t need to truly take charge of the cleanup. She merely helped move the unstained printing paper aside and stack it neatly.

The teaching secretary tidied up the overturned ink cartridges. Unable to handle the marks on the white floor tiles, she took out her phone and called for logistics staff in the big group chat.

Wang Nan continued dealing with the student in front of her.

Jin Zhao lowered her head, sorting the printing paper, doing her best to ignore the sparse, cold, powerful presence behind her—even though she had known for a very long time that no one could truly ignore Meng Yanxi’s presence.

Newcomers were always full of enthusiasm—like Jin Zhao, brimming with passion as she tried to meet students halfway; and like Wang Nan, devoutly adhering to the rules, handling students who made mistakes with fairness, never showing leniency.

“Besides compensation, there’s also the issue of keeping pets at school. According to the Student Dormitory Management Regulations, students are prohibited from keeping pets in the dorms; otherwise, a demerit will be recorded.”

Jin Zhao and the teaching secretary, who was waiting for logistics staff to arrive, both looked toward Wang Nan.

For students, disciplinary action was a serious matter—it went into their permanent records. In truth, although the dormitory regulations explicitly forbade keeping pets, students privately keeping them was hardly uncommon: a cat, a hamster, a rabbit… As long as roommates didn’t object, counselors usually wouldn’t interfere. Even if discovered, most would turn a blind eye, simply telling the student to give the pet away, not actually recording a demerit in their file.

Wang Nan’s approach struck both Jin Zhao and the teaching secretary as rather strict.

When the girl heard there would be disciplinary action, she panicked as well, hurriedly explaining, flustered: “That cat wasn’t mine. It was a stray. I just bought some ham sausages to feed it. Maybe it was really too hungry—after it finished one and saw the wrapper in my hand, it thought there was more and pounced to grab it. I was afraid it would scratch me, so I ran away, and it chased after me… and then, by accident, it knocked over the nearby ceramics exhibition.”

The girl looked at Wang Nan with tears brimming in her eyes. Only then did Jin Zhao notice that she had a pair of eyes almost identical to Meng Yanxi’s. The same large peach-blossom eyes, with distinct arcs to the upper and lower lids, the outer corners slightly drooping—both naturally beautiful eyes. The only difference lay in the gaze. Meng Yanxi’s eyes were pitch-black, seemingly romantic yet actually concealing all their sharpness. The girl before her had even longer lashes, curled and upturned, and in those clear black-and-white eyes there was no hiding anything, carrying a kind of pure, slightly dazed innocence.

Something suddenly stirred in Jin Zhao’s heart.

It was his younger sister, Meng Zhuxi.

Meng Zhuxi had grown this big already. Jin Zhao still remembered when she had been a little girl—every time Meng Yanxi forced her to go practice dancing, she would quarrel with her brother. When she couldn’t win, she would burst into loud sobs, but it never helped. In the end, she would still be ruthlessly tossed by Meng Yanxi into the dance studio.

Meng Zhuxi stepped forward, her big eyes looking earnestly at Wang Nan. “Teacher, please believe me. That cat really isn’t mine. I didn’t keep a pet in the dormitory.”

In fact, Wang Nan had also considered that the cat might not belong to Meng Zhuxi. She had even investigated beforehand. But He Qi, Meng Zhuxi’s dormmate, had reported that the cat was indeed Meng Zhuxi’s, saying that Meng Zhuxi relied on her family’s wealth and influence to ignore school rules, and that the other two roommates had benefited from her and therefore said nothing.

Wang Nan disliked students who disregarded rules. Her expression darkened. “I already—”

“Was it the cat on Third Road?” Jin Zhao suddenly spoke up.

She forced herself to ignore the gaze that immediately followed her words, doing her best to look at Meng Zhuxi with an undistracted mind.

Meng Zhuxi nodded in delight. “Yes, yes, that’s the one on Third Road!”

“A bit skinny, round eyes, soft fur, sharp little paws?”

“Yes, yes, that’s the cat!” Meng Zhuxi brightened. “Teacher, have you seen it too?”

“Ah, I have.” Jin Zhao blinked. “It was probably a stray for too long and got hungry, that’s why it pounced at people. Last time it almost scratched me too.”