After it was over, the two cuddled for a while.
Resting her face against Chen Jinshan’s chest, listening to his thumping heart rate gradually slow down and even out, Zhou Xiaqing was too tired to move. Chen Jinshan, however, used his chin to hold down the top of her head, using his fingers to wind a strand of her hair, twisting it circle by circle, then letting go, repeating the motion.
He never tired of it.
Her whole body was sweaty and sticky, and Zhou Xiaqing finally couldn’t bear it, so she got up and headed into the bathroom to shower.
The warm water flowed down her skin from above. She had long since calmed down, closing her eyes and frantically searching her brain, trying to find a word to describe her relationship with Chen Jinshan.
Indulgence in pleasure?
A one-night stand?
Or conspiring together?
In any case, none of them were good words.
She had always lived and studied by the rules, a “good girl” in the eyes of her elders, a “good student” in the mouths of classmates and friends. The occasional deviation was just a minor, harmless thing like skipping a few laps or sneaking a cigarette.
But now…
The scenes of the crazy passion just now surfaced in her mind, one after another, like irrefutable hard evidence, ripping away the labels she originally had, then firmly nailing her to the pillar of shame.
Perhaps this was her true nature?
Absolutely not.
She was just temporarily possessed and had taken the wrong path.
It didn’t matter that she had taken the wrong path; she just had to stop the loss in time and walk back in the right direction.
Outside, Chen Jinshan leaned against the head of the bed, one leg bent. He listened to the sound of flowing water coming from the bathroom, mouthing a few reduplicated words to himself: “Bed-bed… sleep-sleep… bubble-bubble?”
Zhou Xiaqing’s nickname “Zhouzhou” came from her parents expressing their feelings and falling in love on a boat. If one followed this logic, he and Zhou Xiaqing could be considered to have fallen in love on a bed; their child definitely couldn’t be named “Bed-bed.” Should it be named “Sleep-sleep”? Or “Bubble-bubble”?
His young man’s preoccupations were vague and distant, yet his thoughts couldn’t stop wandering.
The sound of water stopped.
Chen Jinshan’s eyes looked toward the bathroom. Now that no one was disturbing them, he could have a good talk with her about their current relationship.
Zhou Xiaqing walked to the bedside, dried her body with a bath towel without a word, and immediately put on her clothes, one by one.
He nervously brewed his thoughts for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, his words were preempted by her.
“This isn’t right for us; I was muddled and impulsive for a moment.” Zhou Xiaqing looked down at him from a height, decisively saying, “Let’s forget about these two times.”
A classic “scumbag” quote she never expected that today it would be her turn to say it.
She felt like a worm that had just taken a bite of an apple and poked its head out—disgusting to the extreme.
Chen Jinshan’s heart sank sharply, and all the words he had prepared were blocked back.
His throat felt suddenly dry and unbearable; his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He was very adaptable, playing along with a puzzled expression, saying: “What happened?”
Zhou Xiaqing only wanted to escape, hastily throwing down a single sentence: “I’m leaving.”
“Hmm.”
The door opened and closed again.
The room was quiet, leaving only a sound of breathing that was sometimes deep and sometimes shallow.
Chen Jinshan sat at the head of the bed, motionless as a statue.
After a long while, he turned on his phone and, as if out of spite, canceled the “pin” on “Bread King.”
His suitcase was still sprawled out in the corner. He walked over to the table to put the scattered little items on it back into the case.
Pushing aside the clothes on top, a large, white scrunchie appeared conspicuously before his eyes.
Chen Jinshan picked up the scrunchie, looked down at it, pondering something.
Putting the scrunchie back, he opened his phone again.
Found “Bread King,” and repinned it.
Someone in the room was talking to themselves: “Zhou Xiaqing, I really hate you.”
The Fanghua University autumn sports meeting was officially held on November 1st and concluded successfully on the evening of the 2nd.
The placard bearer for the Art Academy was freshman Zhou Zhou, in a strapless, slim-fitting long dress with a cold and elegant temperament. Her long hair fluttered, her figure was tall, and her skin in the sun was delicate and flawless, glowing white.
Because she was truly stunning, someone filmed a video and posted it online. The video exploded in popularity overnight, and her account was dug up, with fans surging.
The whole campus was discussing this newly promoted Art Academy “goddess.”
Gao Zhiyang, who followed hot topics closely, was naturally no exception.
In the swimming pool locker room, Chen Jinshan opened his locker and quickly pulled on his clothes.
Gao Zhiyang and several teammates were huddled together on the side, watching the video that made Zhou Zhou famous once again, discussing it excitedly.
The phone in the locker rang once.
Chen Jinshan opened his phone to check the message while drying his hair with a towel.
Mom: “It’ll be the start of winter in a few days. Your dad made dumplings; I’ll mail them to you then, and they’ll arrive the next morning.”
Chen Jinshan: “Why bother? I can get dumplings in the school cafeteria.”
Mom: “Can the cafeteria dumplings compare to your dad’s craft? Your dad made these dumplings with love! Do you have any conscience, son?”
Chen Jinshan: “Son has received the order. Please ask Mother to tell Father that son feels for his hard work and is infinitely grateful.”
Mom: “Sign for them promptly, and don’t forget to send half to Zhouzhou so she can have the dumplings her Uncle Chen made for lunch too. Don’t go pushing and shoving like before. What did she ever do to offend you?”
Mom: “I really don’t know what kind of craze you’re having.”
The last time he had seen Zhou Xiaqing was abroad. In the month since returning to school, he hadn’t bumped into her once, as if they were two parallel lines that never intersected.
Seeing he hadn’t replied, his mother sent him another message: “Did you hear me?”
Chen Jinshan typed slowly this time: “I know.”
After replying, he returned to the main page, his thumb tapping into the pinned chat window.
The conversation still stopped at a month ago.
“Boss Chen, let me tell you something.”
Gao Zhiyang drifted to his side. Chen Jinshan immediately pressed to turn off the phone, looking guilty, like a thief.
“Speak.” Chen Jinshan continued tidying his things.
Gao Zhiyang said triumphantly: “My friend knows Zhou Zhou’s roommate…”
His ears captured the all-too-familiar address. Chen Jinshan’s movements stalled; he turned his head and asked him: “Where did you hear that name?”
“How could I not know?!” Gao Zhiyang held his phone up before him. “The exploding Zhou Zhou, the Art Academy goddess Zhou Zhou! Do you know her?”
In the video, a girl wearing a long dress was holding a sign with both hands, standing in front of the line and leading everyone forward.
A strange face.
“Don’t know her.” Chen Jinshan only looked for two seconds before turning his head, stuffing his clothes into his training bag.
Gao Zhiyang leaned against the locker and continued: “Anyway, I was seeing if I could set up a mixer, although it’s a bit…”
Chen Jinshan closed the locker door and interrupted his words again: “Nothing happened between you and Xu Ling?”
Gao Zhiyang’s voice was muffled: “She started cycling through messages again when I messaged her after getting back to school. I don’t want to bring up the past.”
Better than him.
At least there was a “following up.”
Chen Jinshan mocked himself internally.
“Alright, I’m off.” Chen Jinshan shouldered his bag and walked toward the exit.
By the time Gao Zhiyang, who was wallowing in his sentimental grief, reacted, Chen Jinshan had already vanished.
“Big brother, wait for me!” He hurriedly packed his things and rushed to catch up.