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Chapter 7

Fingers Interlaced, Holding Hands!

“Who is it, so annoying, Zhou Hao—”

Unable to bask in the sun, Chu Zhixia frowned in annoyance and looked up. She guessed it was probably Zhou Haoying—he had been glancing back at her repeatedly before leaving, likely to come back and check on her.

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly paused.

“Doctor Shen?”

Tilting her head back, the sunlight struck her from the side and was a bit strong. She shaded her forehead with one hand, surprised and delighted as she looked at him. “What are you doing here? Sit, sit.” Her mood was bad, so she was a bit lazy and didn’t want to get up.

Shen Qingshi looked down at her and said, “The ground is cold.”

She was still dressed in her usual casual home clothes, which she had purposely chosen today. After her last dental appointment, thinking she knew his preference, she wore a pure white oversized T-shirt paired with light denim shorts, revealing two slender, straight legs, and white sneakers—a youthful, delicate little flower.

Chu Zhixia thought he was worried about the cold, so she generously scooted aside. “Then you sit where I was sitting.”

Shen Qingshi said: “…”

“You should get up first; it rained last night, the ground is very cold.”

Also, her shorts were indeed a bit short, and he frowned slightly.

“Wait—are you caring about me?” Chu Zhixia only realized the meaning behind his words after a moment’s delay. Her smile instantly bloomed like spring flowers, yet she still didn’t stand but instead looked up directly into his handsome, elegant face.

For some reason, his brow was slightly furrowed, but there was indeed a faint layer of concern in his eyes.

Her mood lifted greatly. She stretched out her right hand toward him, nails rounded and clean, painted a pale pink that shimmered like cherry blossoms. “Then pull me up, please.”

Shen Qingshi glanced at her hand but didn’t move his body.

“Hurry up, please. I caught a bit of a cold from the rain yesterday; I’m feeling dizzy.” After waiting a while, she felt pitiful and coquettish.

Vaguely, she heard Shen Qingshi sigh softly. Before she could think more, a large man’s hand grasped hers.

His hand was somewhat cool, very big—able to wrap her entire hand—and even more slender and strong than she imagined, giving a calm impression.

The tips of his thin, long fingers felt like electric pulses, a tingling current instantly rushing through her palm and traveling up her arm.

Half her body tingled, and she was surprised that after being pulled up by him, she almost lost her balance.

Shen Qingshi tightened his grip and steadied her.

Now the sensation was even clearer.

She instinctively parted her fingers and intertwined them with his.

Shen Qingshi’s arm stiffened, as if to withdraw his hand, but Chu Zhixia wasn’t fully steady yet and gripped tighter.

Fingers perfectly interlocked.

More currents surged.

A tingling, buzzing feeling.

The currents suddenly converged again, reaching her chest, wrapping her entire heart, tightening with force, causing uncontrollable pounding—thump, thump, thump!

“Alright, alright…”

Fearing he would notice how nervous she was—hearing such a strong heartbeat—she withdrew her hand and slowly rubbed it, saying, “I’m steady now, thank you, Doctor Shen.”

She looked up and saw his ear was slightly red.

The white, jade-like ear rim seemed stained with rosy clouds. Because of that flush, his cold side profile was stunningly beautiful, his jawline tightened, and his Adam’s apple rolled.

The two of them just stood there quietly for a while without speaking.

Chu Zhixia even felt a bit afraid to look at him, her heart pounding like a drum.

It was Sunday; many residents of the community passed by and couldn’t help but glance at them, smiles tugging at their lips.

They looked like a perfectly matched young couple—handsome man, beautiful woman—stunningly striking.

Making people want to look again and again.

With so many eyes on them, Shen Qingshi’s expression cleared somewhat. He handed her the umbrella he had been holding for a while, his voice hoarser than usual, saying, “Your umbrella. Thanks for yesterday.”

So…

Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling something.

Did he… want it too?

Thinking this, Chu Zhixia felt like she couldn’t breathe, gasping for air, her legs weakening as if she might collapse. Yet she grew braver and didn’t take the crimson umbrella, but stepped forward a bit, rising on tiptoes, leaning close to his shoulder.

It was Sunday. He wasn’t wearing a white coat but a casual dark gray shirt and black trousers.

She recognized the brand—an extremely expensive, very low-key luxury label with no logos.

So expensive that she and Zhou Haoying probably couldn’t afford it together on a year’s salary.

Yet on him, the clothes disappeared; he was far more precious than the clothes he wore.

Chu Zhixia’s heart raced fiercely. Moving closer again, she asked, “Are you free this afternoon?”

Shen Qingshi didn’t dodge—in fact, thinking carefully, he seemed never to have dodged. He lowered his head, calming his breath, and looked steadily at her. “What’s the matter?”

Chu Zhixia leaned to his ear, having somewhat figured out his nature, and pleaded, “Please, you have to help me! I’m doomed!”

With some hesitation, Chu Zhixia led him into the corridor of Building 7.

Passing by the housekeeper’s sister who was giggling gossipingly, Chu Zhixia winked, then took him into the elevator and swiped for the 20th floor.

Shen Qingshi stood calmly as usual inside the elevator.

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Chu Zhixia secretly observed him through the reflective wall, feeling that he probably knew everything, and was aware that she was making up lies to fool him. Even yesterday, that question was something she just casually made up; he was so smart, he surely understood it all.

But whether out of manners, upbringing, or some other reason, as long as he didn’t speak up, she would keep up the act.

Besides, she really enjoyed being with Shen Qingshi.

The elevator stopped at the twentieth floor, a private unit. Looking at the security door, Shen Qingshi’s steps hesitated slightly.

“Since our hands are already holding, and we’re on the elevator—You wouldn’t be that traditional, right—”

Once there’s a first time, there’ll be a second. Chu Zhixia tugged his arm and stepped inside.

Hands already held, fingers intertwined—touching his arm was nothing.

Chu Zhixia closed the security door and, after thinking for a moment, locked it from the inside.

Shen Qingshi: “…”

Chu Zhixia found a pair of disposable slippers for him—fortunately there was one left—and helped him sit on the sofa. The honey grapefruit tea was finished, so she went to get a cup and poured him some water.

Shen Qingshi hadn’t expected to actually come upstairs. Looking at the water in the glass, his voice lowered, “No need to go to so much trouble.”

“No trouble, just wait for me here.” Chu Zhixia brought the blueberries that Aunt Zhou had just washed in a small floral bowl and placed it in front of him, then returned to her room for materials.

She worked quickly and soon came back, stuffing a thick stack of printed papers into his hands.

Even fabrications need some basis.

Besides, she really did need help.

Shen Qingshi glanced at her, took the papers, leaned lightly against the sofa, supported himself on the armrest, and carefully read through them.

Chu Zhixia thought he looked so elegant and refined even while reading a thesis.

She admired him for a while, then came closer, didn’t sit, but leaned over him and pointed, “Here’s the corpus I’ve compiled. During the interview, the teachers will ask questions in English. My answers will be based on these materials. Can you help translate them into English, especially possible questions the teachers might ask? I used DEEPSEEK, but some technical terms are never translated accurately.”

Shen Qingshi skimmed through and said, “I’m not from the humanities.”

Chu Zhixia: “…”

“Are you mocking me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Shen Qingshi gently pressed his brow and kindly explained, “I mean, I might not fully understand these theories either. The best way to get the most accurate translation is for you to read the original English papers yourself.”

After a pause, adding, as if he’d wanted to say it many times before, “Don’t call me ‘you’ (formal).”

“If I had that ability, why would I need to ask you for help?” Chu Zhixia sat beside him, hugged a pillow, hummed lightly, and deliberately kept calling him that.

“Read more, and you’ll understand.”

Shen Qingshi kept flipping the pages. At graduate level, it wasn’t basic material, covering literary theory, sociology, aesthetics.

This kind of liberal arts stuff really was different from his experimental, data-driven field.

Some parts were genuinely hard to understand. Many lines were highlighted in various fluorescent colors, very glaring.

“Are you going to help me or not? Please help me this once.” Chu Zhixia moved closer, blinking, “If you don’t, I’ll be doomed. Just imagine the interview: seven or eight senior professors, and I can’t understand their English professional questions. Not understanding would be terrifying—”

Shen Qingshi turned his face slightly, looking at her calmly.

That look seemed to say, “Where have you been until now?”

“Every difficulty can be overcome. People like you top students can’t understand us art students. Our field has many uncertainties; we can only take one step at a time.” Chu Zhixia said this and naturally placed her left hand on his shoulder.

She was so natural about it that Shen Qingshi didn’t feel anything inappropriate. Then a faint, delicate fragrance drifted near his nostrils.

Very light and elegant, a very subtle floral scent with some familiarity, giving a dreamy feeling.

It vanished in an instant.

“Smells nice,” Chu Zhixia noticed too, moved her fingers, and sniffed near his wrist bone, “It’s wisteria that’s everywhere in spring. I made this scent myself; it’s closer to wisteria in early summer.”

Perfume making was a hobby of Yin Xueling’s when she was young.

Shen Qingshi slightly nodded and lowered his eyelashes.

No wonder the scent was familiar, though real wisteria’s waterfall fragrance was richer, especially in early summer, with a powdery cosmetic note in the mystique. Hers was blended with other scents—maybe citrus—very faint, fresh, and dreamlike.

“Here’s the deal: I’ll find you a few English papers to read first, then I’ll give it a try.”

He closed the thesis. His knowledge of literature and history was limited, but her materials weren’t extremely difficult.

“Long live Dr. Shen!!!”

Chu Zhixia almost wanted to jump and kiss him.

But from earlier, Shen Qingshi had shifted slightly to the side, showing a cold, keep-away demeanor.

He noted her key points and assessment scope, glanced at the time, then stood up to leave politely, “Thanks for the water.”

Everything today really surprised him.

“Could you wait just a little longer, please?” Chu Zhixia was reluctant and had some questions that had been on her mind for a long time. She could ask Zhou Haoying but felt his answers were superficial.

She wanted to understand herself from another angle.

Hearing her say “you” again, Shen Qingshi pursed his thin lips but remained standing.

“I just want to ask: in your eyes, what kind of person am I?”