Chapter 27: Exclusive to Jinjiang 1/2

At a hurried pace, they took shelter under an unoccupied tree. The pouring rain was suddenly cut off, and the surroundings became much quieter. The tree canopy created a clean, private space for them.

Shi Zhang put away his coat, lifting it with one hand. Water droplets dripped down the smooth fabric.

 The professor’s situation wasn’t any better than Song Fuzhi’s. He had brought an umbrella but lent it to a student, leaving himself thoroughly drenched.

Both of them looked quite disheveled, with wet hair sticking to their foreheads and dripping water.

It turned out that Shi Zhang had taken off his coat, and only now did Song Fuzhi realize that he was wearing a pure white short-sleeved shirt underneath, soaked through by the rain and clinging tightly to his body.

In an instant, Song Fuzhi was taken aback, finding it hard to imagine that this body belonged to the professor.

The texture of the abdominal muscles was visible through the wet shirt, clearly defined, rising and falling rhythmically with the man’s breath.

For a moment, Song Fuzhi felt like he had been hit hard.

After so long, it seemed like he was seeing his bedmate for the first time.

Although it was covered in clothes, the lines were unmistakable.

really damn good at hiding.

Why didn’t he say something so intense earlier?

Unable to tear his eyes away, Song Fuzhi couldn’t look away for a long time.

Shi Zhang asked, “What are you looking at?”

Song Fuzhi blinked and shifted his gaze, his throat slightly dry. “Nothing.”

Shi Zhang lowered his head, calmly taking off his glasses and using the dry edge of his coat to gently wipe them.

It was originally an action that wasn’t particularly proper, but the way he did it was damn attractive.

As the fabric was pulled up, it revealed a segment of a tight waist and abdomen, the back slightly arched, and the shoulders broad.

Song Fuzhi’s fragile nerves jumped again.

In just a few seconds, the clothing was pulled down, covering the contours of the skin’s ridges.

“Are you waiting to go back to school?” Shi Zhang asked.

Song Fuzhi, regaining composure, said, “Um, depending on how the kids are doing. If needed, I’ll go back to school early.”

He looked at the rain outside, a faint trace of anxiety between his eyebrows.

The rain didn’t stop but seemed to be getting heavier.

“This rain won’t last long,” Shi Zhang said. “I just checked the students. On average, two or three people share an umbrella, standing under the trees. They shouldn’t get too wet.”

Song Fuzhi relaxed a bit and said, “That’s good.”

“Good?” Professor Shi’s voice sounded somewhat cold. “Is your mind only on that group of high school students?”

It was the first time Song Fuzhi had heard Shi Zhang use such indifferent tones.

Song Fuzhi suddenly fell silent.

Who else should be in his heart? Should he, a high school teacher, also worry about the university students for him?

Suddenly, Song Fuzhi understood.

He really went off the deep end, not even thinking of such a simple answer.

“Are you cold?” Song Fuzhi asked gently, showing the care of a partner. “Is there a changing room in the professor’s office? When the rain stops, you can change into dry clothes.”

Shi Zhang gazed at him with a calm expression, and after a while, he said nothing.

In the silence, Song Fuzhi began to doubt himself.

Wasn’t it right? Professor Shi, who was usually polite and reserved, showed through his actions that he cared about him.

“Are you cold?” Song Fuzhi asked again, determined to get a response this time.

Shi Zhang suddenly took a half-step closer, unexpectedly reaching out. His long fingers, adorned with a ring, combed through Song Fuzhi’s hair from the front to the back, and droplets of water trickled through the gaps.

Unprepared, Song Fuzhi didn’t resist. Following the force of the other party, he slightly lifted his face, meeting Professor Shi’s deep eyes.

“If I were teaching in the classroom today and we hadn’t met, when were you planning to tell me that you came to the school?”

The professor’s tone was gentle as he questioned, a faint crease forming between his brows.

Song Fuzhi’s throat felt dry, and he couldn’t say a word.

“Didn’t you plan to tell me, huh?” Shi Zhang continued. “No need to disturb me.”

“I didn’t…” Song Fuzhi knew he was at fault; he indeed hadn’t informed in advance. “I didn’t say it because I was afraid of disturbing you.”

“Not a disturbance,” Shi Zhang said. “Next time you come, tell me in advance.”

Song Fuzhi agreed and promised.

Shi Zhang’s fingers retreated from Song Fuzhi’s hair, sliding down to his cheek. The thumb wiped away a raindrop near his eyebrow, and a slight sigh escaped from the professor’s lips.

“They’re all soaked,” he said.

Almost instinctively, a shiver ran through Song Fuzhi’s spine.

Forcing himself to stay calm, after several thoughts, Song Fuzhi couldn’t find any coquetry or insinuations in Professor Shi’s tone. He realized that he might have thought too much and had improper thoughts.

Song Fuzhi followed his lead, wiping away the raindrop at the corner of Shi Zhang’s eye. “You too.”

Shi Zhang said, “Are you waiting to go back to school?”

Song Fuzhi, blinking, said, “Um, depending on how the kids are doing. If needed, I’ll go back to school early.”

Shi Zhang suddenly grabbed Song Fuzhi’s wrist, not giving him a chance to move.

“Everything’s safe.” Shi Zhang raised his voice to that side, answering for Song Fuzhi.

After that, Shi Zhang’s hand didn’t loosen. Instead, he slid down Song Fuzhi’s wrist, palm to palm, his fingertips rubbing against the golden ring on his finger.

Professor Shi seemed a bit unusual, becoming more assertive and shedding some of the gentle politeness. Song Fuzhi silently pondered where this change came from.

“Did you intentionally extend your right hand when shaking hands?” he asked.

Song Fuzhi was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected Professor Shi to notice even this.

“To avoid unnecessary speculation,” Song Fuzhi carefully chose his words. “If needed, we can introduce each other at a more suitable occasion.”

 Shi Zhang remained noncommittal and asked in a subdued tone, “Have you told Director Wu that you’re married?”

Song Fuzhi slowly processed the situation. Professor Shi probably saw him chatting amiably with Director Wu.

He replied with a hint of a smile, “She didn’t ask. We didn’t talk about that.”

Given the circumstances, it was impossible for them to discuss such matters openly. Two educators, in broad daylight, in front of everyone—what else could they talk about besides work?

There was no change in Shi Zhang’s expression, but he tightened his grip on Song Fuzhi’s hand a bit more.

Holding hands under a big tree in the pouring rain—it was such an innocent scene. Even a mature man like Song Fuzhi couldn’t help feeling a bit flustered.

“Fuzhi,” Shi Zhang suddenly called in a low voice, sending a shiver down Song Fuzhi’s spine.

“Do you think we should clarify the definition of marriage again?”

Although Song Fuzhi taught mathematics and considered himself to have a clear understanding of various definitions, Professor Shi seemed to think his understanding was lacking.

Seeking help with a humble heart, Song Fuzhi asked, “How should we define it?”

Instead of giving a direct answer, Shi Zhang asked the question he had asked earlier: “Do you know what kind of tree this is?”