The teachers’ apartments, unlike the student dorms, did not forbid outsiders from entering. Although they were called young faculty apartments, those who could make it into a university as young teachers were not all that young. There were quite a few married people living here, and from time to time family members would appear; Jin Zhao had even seen children come over to play.

But Meng Yanxi’s crisp “boyfriend” still made Jin Zhao’s ears quietly turn red.

All the anxiety and uncertainty she had felt along the way seemed to vanish completely in that single word of recognition from him.

Although her confession had been very roundabout, his acknowledgment was decisive.

Using the spare key borrowed from the building supervisor to open the door, when she lowered her head, perhaps relying on the darkness, she secretly curved her lips into a smile.

The teachers’ dormitory was a single room, with a small entryway, a private bathroom, and a balcony outside. The balcony door was not closed; as the door opened, a clear, cool mountain breeze poured in from outside.

“The air here is really good, it’s just a bit small.”

Jin Zhao did not know what she was explaining. It sounded like she was inviting her boyfriend to come in and sit for a while, but Meng Yanxi had already followed her inside quite naturally before she even finished speaking. He was tall, with long legs; standing in this small dorm room, it was as if he had nowhere to stretch his limbs, which made Jin Zhao feel a little constrained.

Meng Yanxi’s gaze swept around the small room. The room was tiny, with only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, but Jin Zhao had arranged it very neatly. The sheets and duvet covers were all in warm, light colors. The air carried her scent, fragrant and sweet, like the aroma of gardenias just beginning to bloom in early spring. She had also added a small sofa set and a small coffee table herself; on the coffee table, a box of pens and a few books were casually placed.

“Sit.”

Perhaps because she had no experience with this, she did not know what one was supposed to do after confirming a relationship, and for no reason at all, she behaved even more politely than before they had confirmed it.

Meng Yanxi was not as polite as she was. Standing under the light, he looked at her thoughtfully and suddenly asked, “You look this guilty—did you lose something?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She did not know how he could tell she felt guilty, but since he had already seen through it, why say it out loud? Wasn’t it said that one should see through things without pointing them out?

“Where did you lose it?” he asked with tacit understanding. “At the club, or in the taxi?”

He had already guessed this far; Jin Zhao had no choice but to tell the truth. “In the taxi. But there’s nothing important besides the keys. The keys are just for the dorm and the office—I can have them copied later.”

Meng Yanxi said, “Your phone?”

Jin Zhao replied, “My phone is still here.”

Meng Yanxi looked at her with clear distrust, then suddenly took a phone out of his pocket. His long fingers unlocked the screen.

Very quickly, the ringtone of a WeChat call invitation rang out from the pocket of Jin Zhao’s coat.

Jin Zhao knew it was him calling. She did not move, tilting her face up as she stared at him with a numb expression. “What about trust between people?”

This man’s skin was really thick—facing a question that struck at the soul, he was not embarrassed at all. He lifted his phone slightly and nodded calmly. “Mm, now there is.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She could not argue with him, and even suspected he was relying on his looks to commit crimes.

Although he had shown extreme distrust toward her, facing such a handsome, almost beautiful face, she simply could not get angry.

But then she suddenly noticed the remark he had saved for her on his phone screen.

—Zhaozhao Mumu.

“You—what did you save me as?”

Meng Yanxi froze, immediately hung up the call, and the ringtone in Jin Zhao’s pocket came to an abrupt stop.

Meng Yanxi pressed the screen dark and, perfectly composed, countered, “Did I? Aren’t you just called Zhaozhao Mumu?”

Jin Zhao instinctively wanted to grab proof and rose onto her tiptoes. Someone was a step faster, lifting it slightly higher. With a twenty-centimeter height difference between them, he only had to raise it a little, and she lunged at empty air.

Jin Zhao bit her lip. He, however, seemed rather pleased. His peach-blossom eyes smiled as they fixed on her, his tone anything but serious. “Already checking my phone?”

Jin Zhao admitted her face felt a bit hot—she wasn’t sure whether it was because of his smile, or because of that deliberately twisted tease.

To keep herself from being led astray, she explained matter-of-factly, “Mine is the mu from zhaozhao mumu—the mu in morning bell, evening drum.”

“And isn’t mine that?”

“Yours is the mu from wood.” Jin Zhao reminded him, with a hint of teeth-gritting.

“Oh.” He smiled even more happily, paused for a moment, then asked unhurriedly, “Isn’t that quite fitting?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

Fine then—she’d just be a block of wood.

“I’m going to wash my hands.”

Jin Zhao had the habit of washing her hands after coming back from outside. She squeezed out some hand soap in the bathroom and rinsed it off under the tap. She had always been emotionally resilient; by the time she came out, she had already very magnanimously forgiven him.

Meng Yanxi was on the balcony making a call. Through the balcony door, Jin Zhao vaguely heard him say, “Go now.”

She thought he was about to leave, and suddenly felt very reluctant.

Even though she really was rather wooden, and didn’t know what one was supposed to do after getting together.

When Meng Yanxi finished the call and came in, he met her lingering, unwilling gaze. He paused, then understood, and immediately explained with a very boyfriend-like sense of responsibility: “I had someone go check the surveillance, to help you look for your bag.”

Jin Zhao’s heart loosened in an instant. She looked up at the time on the wall—it was already ten o’clock at night—and she didn’t know what she was feeling so sweet about.

They had just confirmed the relationship; could he really stay here?

Thinking about how late it was and how she was still letting him clean up after her foolishness by helping her look for the bag, she felt very apologetic and hurriedly said, “There’s really no need. I was planning to go dancing today anyway. It’s just a canvas bag—inside are my dance clothes and shoes. The only somewhat important thing is the keys, but they’re just school keys, they can all be copied again.”

Meng Yanxi was someone who always saw the whole from the smallest clue. She had only mentioned dancing once, yet in the blink of an eye he connected everything together.

Why she had refused to contact him for so long, letting him fiddle with his phone until it was nearly polished smooth without getting a single word from her—yet tonight she suddenly appeared at Luo Heng’s birthday, impatient to come find him, taking this step toward him.

He looked at her, his eyes pitch-black.

“I’m still important, right?” he suddenly asked.

Jin Zhao stared at him blankly. She didn’t know that Meng Yanxi had already pieced together all the causes and effects, nor did she know why he suddenly blurted out such a line.

Meng Yanxi fell silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “You didn’t want to tell me you lost something because you were afraid I’d think you’re scatterbrained. But asking your leaders and colleagues to get keys copied—that’s fine. I get it. You care about me. In your heart, I’m different from others.”

Meng Yanxi actually rarely showed narcissism.

Admittedly, he was indeed proud, but his pride was the kind that was innate, carved into his bones, taken for granted. For example, when he was young and there was a parents’ meeting, he could very naturally say it was his personal commendation conference—so punchable, yet leaving people utterly speechless.

But he had almost never been so deliberate about it like this. Although it was just as punchable, Jin Zhao looked into his eyes and thought of that boy from years ago, the one who had told her over the phone that he would help her, no matter what—and she did not want to refute him.

Back then, when she had thought they would never again have any intersection in this lifetime, she had blessed him with all her sincerity and goodwill.