Jin Zhao’s temperament was somewhat aloof. From childhood to now, she had never been very interested in group activities. Even now, she never signed up for school events or union activities or anything of the sort. Even the department director couldn’t stand it anymore and told her that young people should socialize more, that living too secluded a life made it easy to end up unable to find a partner.

Seeing the message about the class reunion, her first instinct was to refuse.

She had studied at the affiliated high school for two years. The class had changed three times: the first semester she was in a regular class, the second semester in an experimental class, and all of her sophomore year in Class A. Altogether, her overlap with Class A was only about a year; they weren’t particularly close. She was afraid that if she went, there wouldn’t be anything to talk about, that it would turn cold and awkward.

If it had been anyone else asking her, she could have come up with an excuse on the spot and declined.

But just because that person was Meng Yanxi, she stared at the phone screen for quite a while and couldn’t bear to refuse.

Meng Yanxi’s WeChat name was simply “Meng Yanxi,” straightforward and plain. His profile picture was a landscape photo, the kind young people rarely used.

It wasn’t the sort of auspicious, wide-sky feng shui image of blooming flowers and vast seas. It was a landscape shot taken in the desert: half of it was cracked, parched Gobi, yellow-brown grit, not a blade of grass growing; the other half was a desert oasis, emerald water clear and bright, reflecting the light of the sky, with tender grass lush along the shore, brimming with life. In one corner, something like a pure white butterfly seemed to have strayed in. Only after tapping to enlarge did she see clearly—it wasn’t a butterfly, but a feather, pure white and light, blown by the wind, sweeping from desolation into vitality.

It was an image full of artistic tension, more like the kind of photograph that would be displayed in an art museum for people to admire and ponder, hinting at some deeper meaning.

She didn’t reply right away—not because she didn’t want to go, but because she did.

She knew in her own heart that she and Meng Yanxi were worlds apart, and that that one year of high school student days was their only point of intersection.

But even if nothing would ever come of it afterward, it was like that youthful secret crush: though it had been chaotic, like an unripe green mango—sour and astringent—so long as she could see him, she would still feel very happy.

Jin Zhao’s fingers moved, and she replied: 【Okay.】

-♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

On the fifth, Meng Yanxi drove to the school. No matter how much Jin Zhao insisted it wasn’t necessary, when she went downstairs at eight in the morning, she still saw a Maybach parked outside the No. 7 Teachers’ Apartments.

Meng Yanxi was driving himself today. The car was parked by the roadside, the window rolled down. In the early morning, the light was bright, the air clean and fresh. Teachers and students passing nearby couldn’t help but glance in his direction a few extra times. At first they were looking at the car; later, it was hard to tell whether they were looking at the car or at the man in the car, more handsome than any top-tier celebrity.

Jin Zhao wasn’t very used to this kind of high profile. She quickened her steps toward him, but ran into Wang Nan, who had just returned from outside early that morning.

Wang Nan looked distraught, as if she hadn’t rested at all through the night, exhaustion showing in her eyes. When she saw Jin Zhao, she hurried a couple of steps and threw herself at her, hugging her and nearly breaking into tears.

Jin Zhao quickly asked in a gentle voice, “What’s wrong, Nan Nan?”

As she spoke, her gaze was drawn to the grime on the hem of Wang Nan’s skirt. Looking closely, it was a dark red color, like bloodstains.

Jin Zhao was startled and quickly asked, “Is that blood on you? What happened?”

Wang Nan shook her head, utterly spent. “Not my blood. A student’s.”

Jin Zhao let out a breath of relief, just about to say that as long as it wasn’t hers it was fine, when she suddenly realized that if a student was bleeding, it was a serious matter—there was no way it could be ‘fine.’

Sure enough, Wang Nan said weakly, “Two students got into a fight. The hospital called me in the middle of the night to go over there. Even now my legs are still shaking.”

At universities, student safety is paramount. There used to be a joke online: don’t be fooled by how iron-faced and impartial university counselors seem on ordinary days—if you tell them you want to die, the counselor can drop to their knees on the spot, begging you not to jump.

Jin Zhao used to think that was exaggerated. Only after becoming a teacher herself did she realize it wasn’t. And she was only a course instructor; let alone Wang Nan, who was a counselor, the first person responsible for university student safety.

One could imagine that Wang Nan must have been scared half to death last night.

“Are the students okay now?” Jin Zhao asked. “Have the parents been notified? Has it been reported to the college leadership?”

“It’s already been reported to the dean and the party secretary, and the parents have been notified too. The students are basically fine—just external injuries. As for me, I think I’m about to be done for.” Wang Nan’s voice carried a sob.

Jin Zhao patted her on the shoulder and asked, “Then have you eaten breakfast? I’ll go buy some for you.”

“I’ve eaten.”

As Wang Nan spoke, she noticed that Jin Zhao was dressed especially beautifully today—a smog-blue long dress, the fitted cut outlining her lovely curves, full where it should be full, slender where it should be slender, a waist one could almost encircle with a hand. Over it she wore a snow-white knitted cardigan. Her skin was fair; her collarbone-length hair was fluffy and soft; she had unobtrusively put on a light, clean makeup look. When she smiled gently, the soft aegyo-sal beneath her eyes looked like two shallow, clean crescent moons. White moonlight took form at this moment, a kind of beauty that struck straight at the heart.

“Are you going on a date?” Wang Nan straightened up.

Jin Zhao’s cheeks warmed. She shot a quick glance at the Maybach not far behind Wang Nan. Meng Yanxi was sitting in the car. She hoped he hadn’t heard, and hurriedly denied it: “No, it’s a high school class reunion.”

Wang Nan immediately, for a moment, forgot the professional pressure brought on by the student fight. She looked Jin Zhao up and down, nodding appreciatively. “Nice. Go to the reunion looking like a celestial fairy. I guarantee the boys in your class who had secret crushes on you back then will never forget you for the rest of their lives—at night, they’ll be dreaming about you.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She noticed that Meng Yanxi’s car window was open, and she already felt her toes curling into the ground.

Jin Zhao said, “Hurry up and go back to sleep.” In dreams, anything is possible.

The two separated. Wang Nan took a couple of steps, then suddenly turned back and asked, “Oh right, did you see the notice the school put out?”

Jin Zhao didn’t react at once. “Which notice?”

“The rental subsidy one. I went to bed early on National Day, and only found out from the group messages the next day that a snake got into the dorms and scared the teachers half to death. The day after that, the school issued a notice saying that before the new teachers’ apartments are completed, young teachers renting off campus will get a monthly rental subsidy of 2,800 yuan.” Wang Nan sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know which unlucky soul it was—sacrificed one person to benefit hundreds. I almost want to thank them.”

Jin Zhao hesitated, stopping and starting. After quite a while, she said numbly, “The unlucky soul you’re talking about should be me.”

Wang Nan: “……”

Once again, Jin Zhao placed her hopes on Meng Yanxi not having heard their conversation.

Unfortunately, things went against her wishes. After she got in the car, the Maybach had just driven out of the school when Meng Yanxi turned the steering wheel. Perhaps noticing that she had been staring at the residential complex across the road, he suddenly asked, “Planning to rent a place in Shanshui City?”

The neighborhood across from the north gate was called Shanshui City.

Jin Zhao felt as though an arrow had unexpectedly struck her in the knee.

Meng Yanxi added insult to injury with another remark: “With a monthly rental subsidy of 2,800, wouldn’t Shanshui City be a bit out of reach?”

All right—the heart that had been hanging finally died. He had heard it.

Jin Zhao could only answer matter-of-factly, “It would only cover half.”

Shanshui City had been built in the past few years. It was considered an upgrade-type development, though not much of an upgrade. Even the smallest units were two-bedroom apartments. Jin Zhao had checked the lowest transaction price over the past three months—of little reference value—and it was six thousand.

Meng Yanxi didn’t say anything.

The class reunion had been organized by Luo Heng, and the location was chosen by Meng Yanxi, in Linyuan, two to three hundred kilometers away from Suiyi.

Linyuan had once been Zhou Huaichen’s maternal grandfather’s summer estate, built deep in the original mountains, following the terrain. The year before last, Old Master Lin passed away. Because of his profession, Zhou Huaichen was unable to manage the estate his grandfather left behind, and many of the properties were transferred out from then on. At the time, Meng Shixu had wanted to take over Linyuan, but he was a step too late and the Feng family got there first. After acquiring Linyuan, the Feng family handed it over to their only child born in their later years, Feng Chi, to manage. From then on, the place was opened up on a limited basis.

Linyuan was far from human habitation, nearly twenty to thirty kilometers from the nearest village. Winding upward along the mountain road, the private estate of white walls and gray tiles spread out along the mountain’s contours. It covered a vast area, exquisitely designed. Several guest rooms took advantage of the uniquely favorable natural conditions and were built into caves. The original stone domed ceilings preserved their natural textures. Lying in bed, one could look through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows and see layer upon layer of mountain ridges opposite, clouds steaming and rosy clouds glowing.

-♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

When Meng Yanxi’s car arrived, aside from Lu Jingyue and Si Tian, everyone else was already there, waiting at the entrance with the host, Feng Chi.

Feng Chi was a typical second-generation rich kid—a young playboy type, decently handsome, fun-loving, dressed head to toe in trendy brands, calling every pretty girl “little sister.” A group of them were joking around at the entrance when, from afar, they saw the Maybach driving up. Feng Chi paused and said, “Yan-ge’s here.”

He turned and went straight over. Seeing Meng Yanxi sitting in the driver’s seat through the windshield, Feng Chi was a little surprised.

These people all had different temperaments. Put it this way: Zhou Huaichen probably had the most liquid cash among them, but Zhou Huaichen was the hardworking type—him driving himself no matter how far wasn’t unusual. But for a pampered capitalist like Meng Yanxi to personally drive this far was rare, like the sun rising in the west.

Then he glanced at the beauty sitting in the passenger seat, and Feng Chi immediately smiled in understanding, changed direction, and shrewdly stepped forward to open the passenger door.

Jin Zhao stepped out of Meng Yanxi’s car like a stone thrown into a lake, instantly stirring ripples.

At first, no one recognized Jin Zhao, assuming she was just a woman Meng Yanxi had brought along. But Luo Heng quickly recognized her and suddenly exclaimed, “Holy shit—isn’t this Jin Zhao? You and Meng Yanxi are together now?”

One stone stirred up a thousand waves. This group had come up together since their student days. Back then, even the tiniest thing in class could set them off into noisy teasing and ruckus, especially when it came to cheering on vague, ambiguous relationships and creating an atmosphere. After all these years, their nature hadn’t changed at all—they were exactly the same as they had been back in high school, instantly getting loud and wildly egging things on—

“When did you and Meng Yanxi get together? How come I never heard anything about it?”

“Yeah, not a single hint! With how much attention everyone pays to Meng Yanxi, if you were together it should’ve spread all over long ago… What, do you have a separate group chat and block me out?”

“I never heard either. Be honest—when did you two secretly hook up? How did I not notice before?”

“I’m different, I could tell back then! Meng Yanxi used to ignore everyone; if anyone asked him a question, he’d just let them copy the answer. He’d only actually explain problems to Jin Zhao! Oh right, Jin Zhao, you and Meng Yanxi—are you married yet? When are you planning to have kids? With the two of you looking like this, I can’t even imagine how good-looking your kids would be!”

“Exactly! Might as well respond to the national call and have three kids, don’t waste such good genes!”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She now only wanted to dig a hole on the spot and bury herself, wondering which family’s third child she’d be reincarnated as after death.

These people loved to stir things up, yet were cowards at heart. They didn’t dare provoke Meng Yanxi, so they only picked on the softest target, crowding around her alone. And every single one of them was quicker with their mouth than the last—she opened her mouth several times to deny it, but couldn’t get a word in.

She looked to Meng Yanxi for help, only to see him sitting on a sofa not far away, turned sideways and talking with Luo Heng. She didn’t know what was said, but Luo Heng suddenly jumped up. Meng Yanxi calmly gestured a number at him, and Luo Heng immediately broke into a grin and sat back down.

He looked as though he hadn’t heard the commotion over here at all, which made Jin Zhao both angry and strangely relieved.

He’d better not have heard it.

Thankfully, Si Tian appeared just in time and saved her. Si Tian had come with Lu Jingyue; they’d seen the class group chat on the way and knew Jin Zhao was here. She was already shouting at the entrance, “Zhao Zhao! Zhao Zhao, baby!”

Jin Zhao clutched at her like a lifeline and fled over, deeply grateful.

As she passed the sofa, amid the din of voices, she heard Luo Heng ask Meng Yanxi, “With so many luxury homes under your name, why did you suddenly want to buy a place in Shanshui City?”

Meng Yanxi leaned slightly against the sofa, seeming to let out a casual laugh, without replying. Or perhaps he did reply, but his words were drowned out by the noise in the private room, and Jin Zhao didn’t hear what he said.