Chapter 8: Eight-dimensional 1/2

The model store was packed with people, bustling, and crowded.

Luo Liuli held a large box in her hands, her smile as bright as a sunflower at noon, seeming to have successfully snatched something.

“Let’s keep browsing. I was too busy snatching; I didn’t get a chance to look around,” Luo Liuli said, her voice a bit breathless, having just come from the battlefield.

Song Fuzhi stopped and said, “Sure, take a break.”

The two leaned against a counter in the store to rest. Not far away, a low, excited scream could be heard. A group of boys and girls gathered around a shelf, all looking pleasantly surprised. They seemed to have found some treasures.

“Youth is wonderful,” Luo Liuli envied. “We two in this store, we look like middle-aged people who took the wrong road while buying groceries.”

He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now they do seem out of place. Most people coming to browse these peripheral stores were young students, and it was rare to see social old dogs like them in their thirties.

“It means we’re still young at heart, right?” Song Fuzhi joked.

They laughed for a while, and Luo Liuli nudged Song Fuzhi with her elbow. “How was the blind date at lunch? Tell me about it.”

Two girls walked past them, hand in hand. The clear voices of their conversation could be heard: “Buy some manga, and let’s go to the anime club after the exam next week!”

While they were chatting about exams and clubs, they were discussing blind dates in their thirties. Song Fuzhi smiled. “Seems like we’re really getting old.”

“You guys took quite a while for lunch.” Luo Liuli ignored Song Fuzhi’s diversion. “What did you talk about?”

“All the usual topics.”

Song Fuzhi briefly introduced Shi Zhang to Luo Liuli.

In summary, a university professor with a stable job, a house, and a car

“Oh, colleagues. Both are gardeners for our motherland.” Luo Liuli became interested. “What does he look like?”

Song Fuzhi thought of a word, “cultured.”

It wasn’t a word used to describe appearance, but rather a temperament. However, Luo Liuli instantly understood the feeling.

Luo Liuli asked again, “Is the professor’s salary high?”

Thinking of the pricey Jiangnan restaurant, Song Fuzhi calmly said, “It should be considerably higher than a high school teacher.”

“What’s his personality like?”

“Polite and refined.”

Song Fuzhi’s answers

were all positive, signaling a very positive impression.

The more Luo Liuli listened, the more she felt that this person was reliable, and the more she listened, the more she felt that the two of them had a chance.

“So, he passed the first test with you?”

Luo Liuli’s voice was light and cheerful.

Song Fuzhi glanced at her, smiling and shaking his head. “You should ask whether I passed the first test with him or not.”

In all aspects, Shi Zhang was outstanding, making it difficult to find any flaws. In the marriage and dating market, he was the one who could be selective. Blind dates were a mutual selection process, and Song Fuzhi didn’t know how many options Shi Zhang had on his side or how the meeting went.

Luo Liuli nudged him with her elbow. “Then, message him on WeChat and see how he feels.”

“We haven’t exchanged WeChat yet,” Song Fuzhi said.

Luo Liuli expressed disbelief, “What? You haven’t even added each other on WeChat? You two must be feeling quite lonely after the meal.”

After coffee and lunch, they parted ways without exchanging contact information. Now, Song Fuzhi realized that Shi Zhang probably agreed to the blind date to honor Mrs. Wang.

Meeting the son of your teacher for the first time was acceptable, right?

Song Fuzhi had met a guy recommended by his aunt before, purely as a duty. He behaved politely, finished the meal, and never contacted him again.

Shi Zhang treated today’s meeting in a similar manner: courteous and polite.

The meal was paid for by Shi Zhang, and he probably didn’t expect Song Fuzhi to return the favor.

Suddenly, Song Fuzhi stood up, straightened his clothes, and grabbed the paper bag. “Have enough rest; let’s go home.”

Luo Liuli protested from behind, expressing that she hadn’t rested enough and questioning why he was in such a hurry to return.

The next day, Mrs. Wang called. Song Fuzhi’s phone vibrated on the table.

He was at home doing shoulder exercises, and the muscles in his arm were swollen and defined. He put down the dumbbell, answered the phone, and Mrs. Wang’s voice came through the Bluetooth earphones.

Mrs. Wang, as direct as always, asked, “Had a meal with Shi Zhang?”

Song Fuzhi’s breath was still heavy, and he responded with a simple “Yes.”

“How was the meal?”

“Normal.”

Mrs. Wang frowned.

Song Fuzhi didn’t answer immediately. He wiped his neck with his hand, and a few drops of water slid down his neck into the tank top.

“What does ‘normal’ mean?”

Song Fuzhi didn’t answer right away. He picked up the dumbbell again, fanning himself with his collar after a couple of intense swings. Then he asked slowly, “Mom, do you have his WeChat?”

“Shi Zhang’s? Yes.”

“Then send me his contact card.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Wang sounded calm. She repeated, “You want me to give you Shi Zhang’s WeChat ID?”

Suddenly, his dad’s excited voice came through: “Hey, asking for WeChat; it’s getting interesting!”

He lowered his voice sneakily, as if thinking Song Fuzhi couldn’t hear him through the hands-free device.

Song Fuzhi felt a bit helpless and somewhat amused. He replied to Mrs. Wang, “Yes, thanks, Mom.”

Almost instantly, Mrs. Wang sent Shi Zhang’s contact card.

Song Fuzhi held the phone quietly for a while, but in the end, he put it down and picked up the dumbbell again, switching to a heavier one.

—

Shi Zhang has been a bit restless lately.

It’s been several days since meeting Song Fuzhi, and it’s like dropping a pebble into a deep pool—no ripples.

He understands the polite and courteous language between adults. It’s usually about “let’s talk next time,” “let’s meet again,” or “I’ll treat you next time,” but most often, there is no next time.

Shi Zhang forces himself not to speculate about Song Fuzhi’s thoughts and prevents himself from becoming anxious. Work temporarily alleviates the symptoms, but when he’s idle, emotions engulf him.

He checks his Weibo and video platform accounts to see how many comments and likes have accumulated. When feeling annoyed, he looks at them.

It’s been quite a while since Professor Zhang updated; fans are eagerly waiting, and Shi Zhang is a bit itchy to update something himself.

Ever since the night of fierce competition with Zhong Ziyan and Ouyang Xi at the arcade, Shi Zhang has been considering cosplaying characters from King of Fighters. Today, he finally has the time.

It’s also a good opportunity to find an emotional outlet for the anxiety of these days.

Whenever real-life situations go beyond control, he briefly relies on the world of the second dimension to numb himself—that’s his eternal comfort zone, established since childhood.

There were a few professors from the School of Life Sciences who invited Shi Zhang to have dinner together tonight. He smiled and declined, citing a lack of time.

Professor Qian expressed dissatisfaction: “It’s always Old Shi who’s not married yet, and now he’s become the busiest, with the lowest attendance rate. You’re failing.”

Shi Zhang, interacting well with these professors, gestured politely, “Sorry to trouble you all, but I really don’t have time. How about this? You all have dinner casually tonight, my treat.”

“Get out!” Professor Gu, a mother of two, drove people away with a motherly vibe. “You go cultivate, and we’ll send you photos to make you jealous.”

Shi Zhang agreed with a smile.

When Shi Zhang arrived at the place, there were already some people inside.

There was a new face in the place, and Shi Zhang thought for a moment, recalling the reason.

The previous photography teacher had something urgent, so there was a temporary replacement, a young photographer.