Chapter 72: Exclusive to Jinjiang 2/3

At this moment, Shi Zhang claimed to be helping Song Fuzhi change clothes, but his fingertips were subtly touching him. With little fabric to begin with, a large expanse of chest skin was revealed, removing all barriers.

Song Fuzhi grabbed his wrist, preventing him from continuing to touch, and raised an eyebrow playfully. “Where are you touching?”

“Helping you change clothes,” Shi Zhang said solemnly, in a nonchalant tone. “Professor Song, where do you want me to touch?”

This statement was clearly flirting. Song Fuzhi was not holding back now and laughed, “If I let you touch, we’ll be done for today.”

In recent times, the two of them have been immersed in work and slept obediently at night. They hadn’t done anything naughty.

At this moment, helping each other change clothes in the same room inevitably led to some touching and caressing, creating a somewhat sticky atmosphere.

Song Fuzhi’s clothes were intricate, with various straps and ties.

Professor Shi, with a serious and stern face, was not abiding by the rules with his fingers. Originally, accessories were supposed to be pinched onto the clothes, but gradually, they ended up in other places.

During the process of changing clothes, Song Fuzhi’s breathing gradually became heavier. Collaborating with the Octopus God was not an easy task.

Shi Zhang, with eyes lowered, looked at Song Fuzhi finely, sighing lightly, “So beautiful.”

Song Fuzhi didn’t respond, turning his head directly and picking up Shi Zhang’s clothes and saying, “Your turn.”

Shi Zhang smiled and casually took off his clothes, a motion to undress that was inherently sexy when performed by Professor Shi.

It had to be said that Shi Zhang was well-suited for this character, with a powerful physique and a crazy personality.

Professor Shi, usually refined and gentle, was actually a demon king.

This character Shi Zhang portrayed simply didn’t wear a shirt, only loosely draped in a red sleeve, revealing a large area of firm and robust physique.

Song Fuzhi’s heart skipped a beat. Regardless of how many times he had seen it, whether in photos or in reality, Shi Zhang’s physique always made him weak in the legs.

It was just pure hormonal suppression and unrestrained male strength. Professor Song really liked it.

“Do we need to put on makeup?” Song Fuzhi asked.

“Put on makeup?” Shi Zhang asked.

Song Fuzhi looked at the bottles and jars placed on the table by Shi Zhang, most of which he couldn’t recognize.

“Can I trust you?” Song Fuzhi asked with a smile.

Shi Zhang had already supported Song Fuzhi’s face, applying the foundation, “It’ll do.”

Song Fuzhi lightly closed his eyes, completely surrendering himself to Shi Zhang.

The feeling of having a lover do your makeup was strange. Song Fuzhi not only felt the soft touch of the makeup brush on his cheeks but also the warmth of Shi Zhang’s fingers, as well as his earnest and meticulous gaze.

The two were very close in their little room that belonged only to them, staring at each other’s faces.

The makeup was almost done. Although Shi Zhang’s skills were only passable, the overall effect was apparent.

Once the wig was put on, the feeling came to life. The two stood together, the devil and the god, and even the passing doves would say they were well-matched.

“Get the camera, get the camera, let’s take a quick shot.” Song Fuzhi was a bit excited.

“We might have to take quite a while.” Shi Zhang checked the time. “It’s almost dinner. We can’t cook like this. How about we order takeout and eat later?”

“Sure.”

The two took a break and quickly ordered takeout, then continued to immerse themselves in their work.

“The camera is in the dressing room; I’ll go get it.” Shi Zhang was also looking forward to it.

Following him, Song Fuzhi said from behind, “You were supposed to stick red patterns on your chest; let’s skip that this time. Next time, I want to stick them on you myself.”

Shi Zhang walked through rows of racks filled with cosplay costumes and reached the innermost part, opening a cabinet filled with photography-related items.

He smiled and glanced at Song Fuzhi. “Professor Song, are you up to no good?”

Song Fuzhi raised an eyebrow, looking directly at him. “Thieves are calling out to catch thieves, huh?”

It was the same; who could be up to any good?

Walking to the deepest part of the room, Song Fuzhi only then realized that there were more things behind than he had imagined.

Cosplay props, photographic equipment, reflectors—everything was neatly arranged.

This was not just a simple dressing room; calling it an arsenal was not wrong.

But what surprised Song Fuzhi the most was when he turned his head and saw a wall full of plant specimens.

From top to bottom, seven rows in total, it was a magnificent sight.

Various plants were pressed flat, and here, they had eternal life.

Song Fuzhi was stunned for a few seconds and asked Shi Zhang, “Did you make all these yourself?”

Shi Zhang lifted his head from the camera shelf and paused. “Ah, yes.”

His heart suddenly raced a bit, feeling conflicted.

Shi Zhang didn’t want Song Fuzhi to see it, but at the same time, he hoped he would see it soon.

Song Fuzhi was very interested in Shi Zhang’s primary job. Although he couldn’t name each plant or understand the equations, he had an instinctive love for living beings in nature.

Starting from the first row, where various plants were neatly framed, the leaves slightly yellowed, resembling paintings of nature.

Each specimen had two small notes attached, one for collection and one for identification.

Song Fuzhi casually looked at one, and it detailed the specimen’s number, botanical name, collection location, environment, and notes—no detail was spared.

Song Fuzhi silently chuckled; the method of managing cosplay costumes throughout the room was in line with the specimens. Each piece of clothing had to be labeled with the date and scene.

As he looked further down, Shi Zhang’s heart slowly tightened.

Just before reaching the middle row, Song Fuzhi’s phone rang.

Shi Zhang’s heart hung there, frozen.

“Hello, Mom?” Song Fuzhi answered, holding the phone while his gaze remained on those specimens.

Mrs. Wang asked from the other end, “Are you at home now?”

Song Fuzhi looked at the dense and slender leaves of the metasequoia, his gaze moving aimlessly downward. “No, we’re at Shi Zhang’s former home. What’s up?”

“Near Binjiang Road, right? That’s perfect,” Mrs. Wang said. “Your dad and I made smoked sausages and just sent them to your aunt. We also went shopping with her and bought you a few new clothes. You complained last time that you only bought for Shi Zhang.”

Song Fuzhi smiled and responded with an “Hmm,” but before the word settled, his gaze slowly fixed.

It stopped at the first specimen in the middle row, which was obviously different from the rows above.

Mrs. Wang seemed to be continuing, “Her house is near Binjiang Road, so we might as well come over later and bring the sausages and clothes for you.”

Song Fuzhi didn’t listen to this sentence at all because he was shocked by what he saw.

Specimens usually emphasize structural integrity, but the plant tissues in this one were almost completely shattered.

Two white lilies unfolded on the paper, and the crushed petals resembled fluttering butterflies. Though now flat, the wrinkles from being crushed seemed to be still visible.

This didn’t look like a specimen; it looked more like a work of art.

What completely widened Song Fuzhi’s eyes was the collection label next to it.

All of them were labels handwritten by Professor Shi in bold cursive.

Number: 1

Name: Lily

Collection location: Bedroom

Time: 11:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. the next day

Environment: autumn, cool temperature

Notes: First time, poor technique; thank you, teacher.

It was clear that this was a complex and lengthy collection process.

They were all very plain and objective sentences, yet they easily brought back clear memories.

Can researchers please not bring this research spirit into their personal lives?

Jumping to the back, Song Fuzhi hesitated slightly.

In the notes, Professor Shi wrote in vigorous handwriting:

“He is more beautiful than the lilies; I don’t know how to love him.”

Song Fuzhi took a light breath, his chest congested, as if he had leaked air.

Mrs. Wang’s voice came from afar: “Hey, Song Fuzhi, did you hear me?”

Song Fuzhi’s mind froze, casually responding, “Hmm, got it.”

Clearly, his mind wasn’t there.

Mrs. Wang hung up without wasting more words.

Song Fuzhi gripped the phone tightly, just turning around to meet Shi Zhang’s deep crimson eyes.

The demon’s eyes were blood-red, and Shi Zhang wore contact lenses, standing still, restraining the flames within him.

Song Fuzhi looked at Shi Zhang, and as he looked, he chuckled, “You really are…”

What exactly he was, Professor Song couldn’t find an appropriate word.