Chapter 30: Exclusive to Jinjiang 1/2

Only after the semester started did Song Fuzhi realize that high school homeroom teachers seemed busier than university professors.

Professor Shi occasionally had to work late due to research and meetings, but Song Fuzhi almost never came home early.

When Song Fuzhi went on blind dates, he told Shi Zhang that the teacher’s job would be busy and he might not have much time to spend with him. Professor Shi indeed showed 100% understanding and support for his work.

Every night, exhausted, Song Fuzhi returned home to find Shi Zhang waiting at the table with a full meal, never once complaining.

Feeling guilty, Song Fuzhi had tried to come home early and prepare dinner a few times, but he always felt his cooking skills were far inferior to those of the private chef hired by Shi Zhang.

He once asked Shi Zhang why he insisted on hiring a private chef, and Shi Zhang earnestly replied, “Didn’t you say your favorite restaurant closed down? So I hired a private chef to customize the flavors you like.”

At that moment, Song Fuzhi was genuinely moved. A casual joke he made was remembered by Shi Professor, who, from any angle, was an outstanding husband.

One day, Song Fuzhi left work under the setting sun, saw the purple rays shining on the flower shop sign across the street, and noticed a girl coming out holding a large bouquet of roses.

Song Fuzhi was inspired and entered, choosing a bunch of light-colored freesias.

Having received many flowers before, it was the first time he bought flowers for someone else.

A handsome guy walking down the street carrying flowers in the sunset was a picturesque scene, and in just a short distance, Song Fuzhi attracted many admiring glances.

Shi Zhang, lounging on the sofa, watching the computer, saw Song Fuzhi open the door holding a bunch of flowers, and he immediately sat up straight.

Song Fuzhi approached Shi Zhang with the flowers and said, “Test the botanist; do you recognize these?”

The botanist adopted a contemplative pose: “I’ll try. What flowers are these?”

He looked up at Song Fuzhi, smiling gently. “If I guess correctly, will you give them to me?”

Playing it cool, Teacher Song said, “You guess first.”

Shi Zhang tapped his chin. “Mariachi?”

Song Fuzhi widened his eyes. “What?”

“An ornamental variety of freesia. White petals, slightly inwardly curled, heavy-layered,” Shi Zhang pointed at the flowers.

…

Teacher Song: “Actually, I only needed the words ‘freesia’ as the answer.”

“I don’t know all varieties; I just happen to know this one,” Shi Zhang sincerely said.

“It seems I not only answered correctly but also earned bonus points. Can Teacher Song reward me now?” Professor Shi raised his hands with an unexpectedly obedient appearance.

Song Fuzhi handed him the flowers with a smile. “Even if you guessed wrong, the flowers are still for you.”

Shi Zhang took the flowers from Song Fuzhi, feeling delighted. He tried to maintain composure on his face but couldn’t help sounding a bit arrogant. “It’s impossible for me to guess wrong.”

Song Fuzhi asked, “Does the botanist know the meaning of freesia flowers?”

This question stumped Shi Zhang.

After thinking seriously, he gave up and said, “Sorry, that’s not within the scope of botanical research.”

Suddenly, two loud coughs came from the previously silent computer. A woman’s voice followed, “Come on, kill me for your entertainment!”

Song Fuzhi’s eyelids twitched, realizing that Shi Zhang had been on a video call.

“Zhang Ziyan and Ouyang Xi.” Shi Zhang pointed at the two people on the screen and introduced them.

“We were just discussing the route for our outing,” Shi Zhang added.

Song Fuzhi, standing outside the camera’s view, was asked for his opinion. Shi Zhang said, “Do you want to meet them?”

“Oh, sure.” Song Fuzhi suddenly felt a bit nervous.

Song Fuzhi sat next to Shi Zhang, seeing their own faces in the window. He waved to the camera, “Hi.”

Zhang Ziyan, in an open-necked suit with a jewel between her collarbones, lounged lazily in a leather chair, exuding a dominant aura.

As soon as she saw Song Fuzhi, she sat up straight, approached the camera, and greeted with bright eyes, “Teacher Song, hi!”

With a casual wave of her hand, her dominant aura disappeared.

Ouyang Xi, also in formal attire, greeted, “Hello, Teacher Song. My surname is Ouyang, and my name is Xi. I was Shi Zhang’s high school classmate.”

They both seemed to be at work, dressed meticulously.

After a brief self-introduction, Zhang Ziyan said she ran a small business, and Ouyang Xi claimed to be a financial worker. Shi Zhang jokingly scolded them, telling Song Fuzhi not to believe their nonsense.

Just based on their appearance and manners, it was evident that these two were outstanding individuals. Were all Professor Shi’s friends of this caliber? Song Fuzhi felt a bit pressured.

“Teacher Song is really handsome,” Zhang Ziyan sighed, “a bit wasted on Shi Zhang.”

Helplessly, Shi Zhang said, “Stop mocking me.”

Song Fuzhi chuckled for a moment. “Not a waste at all; Shi Zhang is also very handsome.”

Zhang Ziyan teased, “I also want to experience the feeling of being protected by my husband.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Ouyang Xi laughed and redirected the topic, “Have we confirmed sleeping in tents tonight?”

Song Fuzhi’s attention was immediately drawn: “Sleeping in tents at night, in the wild?”

“Yeah!” Zhang Ziyan clapped her hands. “That’s the part I’m most looking forward to.”

“Is that settled, then?” Ouyang Xi was happy. “Changan and Xiaoyu have been looking forward to camping for a long time.”

“Oh, right,” Ouyang Xi introduced to Song Fuzhi, “Changan is my wife, and Xiaoyu is my daughter, eight years old this year. They will also join the trip.”

Song Fuzhi nodded. “Professor Shi mentioned it to me.”

“Okay, meeting adjourned,” Shi Zhang said. “We’re going to have dinner.”

“I’ll go heat up the dishes first.” Song Fuzhi got up, said goodbye to the other two, and went to the kitchen.

Shi Zhang was about to end the call when Zhang Ziyan stopped him and said, “Wait.”

Shi Zhang paused and asked what she wanted.

Zhang Ziyan asked, lowering her voice, “Are you busy after getting married?”

Shi Zhang smiled ambiguously and said, “Well, busy enjoying married life.”

“Do you know what I want to say?” Zhang Ziyan raised her eyebrows.

Shi Zhang said, “I probably know.”

“Zhang Ziyan, understand a married old man a little.” This came from Ouyang Xi, who was holding a cigarette, and smoke wafted around him. “I don’t even remember the last time I watched an anime. Damn it.”

Ouyang Xi looked up in thought. “It might have been four years ago, just that time we went out. I randomly found an episode of Conan to watch. I still remember when Zhang Ziyan was scared by the masked man inside.”

Zhang Ziyan teased, “Damn it.”

Ouyang Xi exhaled smoke, lowered his eyes, and said, “Changan is not happy when I watch these. She thinks it’s unreliable for a nearly forty-year-old to watch cartoons, giving people a feeling of being unreliable.”

The overall audience of the second dimension has always been skewed towards the younger age group. Otherwise, why do so many people leave the circle due to real-life responsibilities? It’s often seen as “returning to the right path,” but they understand it’s a compromise forced by reality.

If not for pressure and judgment from various sources, who wouldn’t want to be a carefree and happy middle-aged adolescent for a lifetime?

“Also, ha.” Zhong Ziyan also lit a cigarette, smiling. “Fortunately, I don’t plan to get married.”

Shi Zhang: “Marriage has its own merits.”

Zhong Ziyan squinted and flicked the ash off her cigarette, her gaze sharp. “Shi Zhang, I suspect you like your husband.”

“My point is, you’ve liked him for a long time.” Zhong Ziyan raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten married, and you wouldn’t even be willing to give up beloved hobbies for marriage.”

Shi Zhang smiled calmly. “If you say so.”

–

Lately, Song Fuzhi has added a new activity to his evenings: jogging.

Shi Zhang was also a fitness enthusiast, and the two could run a few laps around the neighborhood after dinner, keeping pace with each other.