Chapter 39: Exclusive on Jinjiang 1/2

“Just undress here.”

Shi Zhang rolled up his sleeves upon hearing Song Fuzhi’s words, and he immediately froze.

Song Fuzhi moved in the water, and his ears blushed slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He always seemed to be like this: blurting out uncharacteristic words when his mind was heated and then regretting them, ready to beat a retreat.

But Shi Zhang never gave him the chance to regret it.

“Is Professor Song inviting me to take a bath together?”

Every time, Professor Shi could use the most serious tone to ask the most straightforward questions.

Song Fuzhi sank a bit more into the water, staring at the light blue bubbles in front of him without raising his head.

Maintaining this posture, Song Fuzhi spoke to the bubbles, “The water consumption for each bath is too high. It’s wasteful for two people to bathe separately.”

Both teachers were environmentally conscious. Shi Zhang nodded and said, “Makes sense.”

Then, the tone shifted slightly, and Shi Zhang said, “I originally planned to go to your place to shower today.”

Song Fuzhi asked, “Are you still planning to go now?”

At this moment, Teacher Song was immersed in the soft bubbles. The water level just covered his chest. His skin was a healthy shade of white, and his collarbones were beautiful. From the neck to the shoulder blades, an elegant line was drawn, and Adam’s apple moved slowly—a strong masculine presence.

Due to the high temperature in the bathroom, Song Fuzhi’s lips looked rosy, and his hair was slightly wet, resting against the side of his ear.

If Song Fuzhi knew what he looked like right now, he would never have asked Shi Zhang, “Are you still planning to go next door for a shower?”

Because it was a hundred percent impossible for Shi Zhang to go.

Shi Zhang took a few steps forward, standing neatly dressed next to the bathtub, lowering his head to look down at Song Fuzhi.

“Professor Song asked me to undress here, so you have to watch carefully.”

Song Fuzhi tilted his head back and smiled, and his eyelids formed an attractive crease. “Go ahead, undress.”

Shi Zhang looked at him indifferently, lowered his head slightly, and started unbuttoning his shirt from the top button, one by one, slowly undoing them. The collar followed his movements, gradually opening up.

The contrast between the meticulously neat white shirt and the well-built physique underneath was stark. Shi Zhang had no unnecessary movements, no exaggerated performance; he just stood there, undressing.

However, no matter how ordinary the posture was, it became extraordinary when he did it.

It was like systematically unwrapping a gift or a carnivore shedding its tame disguise step by step.

Shi Zhang unfolded his arms, pulled the shirt off from one wrist, and the clear and smooth muscle lines tightened and relaxed with his movements.

Song Fuzhi leaned back, resting against the cold tiles with his back, and silently exhaled.

Even when taking off his shirt, Shi Zhang didn’t throw it around carelessly. He neatly folded it before placing it in the laundry basket.

Song Fuzhi smiled. “Professor is meticulous.”

“Used to it.” Shi Zhang didn’t pause and reached for his belt.

He gripped the metal buckle in one hand, calmly pulling it out. Song Fuzhi’s eyelids warmed a bit, and he quickly averted his gaze, closing his eyes.

Shi Zhang’s low laughter reached his ears. “Didn’t I say you should watch carefully?”

Song Fuzhi, still with closed eyes, replied weakly, “I didn’t say that.”

“Not planning to open your eyes?” Shi Zhang’s voice got even closer, and Song Fuzhi could hear his breath and a faint hint of amusement.

Song Fuzhi, a bit embarrassed, commanded, “Hurry up.”

As if wanting to cover up the awkwardness, he added, “No peeking unless necessary.”

Shi Zhang chuckled softly.

Before Song Fuzhi could be affected by the short, low chuckle, he felt the water in front of him sway, and there was a crisp sound.

Shi Zhang had stepped into the bathtub.

The water level clearly rose, and Song Fuzhi felt his head being held by a hand as it massaged his hair.

“Aren’t you going to open your eyes?” Shi Zhang said.

Song Fuzhi opened his eyes, only to see Shi Zhang sitting across from him, with foam covering his collarbone.

Shi Zhang chuckled. “Why so shy, Professor Song?”

Song Fuzhi pursed his lips and said, “I’m showing you respect.”

“Don’t be afraid.” Shi Zhang smiled gently. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Song Fuzhi fell into a moment of silence, contemplating the deeper meaning behind Shi Zhang’s words.

Last time in the tent, the two couldn’t distinguish any hierarchy between them.

Going further back in time, they formally discussed this issue not long after their marriage.

At that time, their attitudes were vague. Song Fuzhi didn’t explicitly state his preferences, and Professor Shi seemed to lack a clear inclination.

With this perspective in mind, Song Fuzhi could now discern the implications behind Shi Zhang’s words.

Song Fuzhi, lost in his thoughts, didn’t notice that his expression was quite serious.

After observing him for a while, Shi Zhang thought Song Fuzhi might be thinking about something unpleasant that happened today. He asked gently, “Feeling stressed lately?”

Song Fuzhi exhaled, and some tension left his shoulders. “Not exactly stressed. It’s more of a personal issue.”

Shi Zhang moved a bit closer, massaging Song Fuzhi’s scalp. “Want to talk about it?”

Song Fuzhi remained silent for a while, then turned around, placing his chin on his arm. Smiling, he said, “Do you want to hear? It’s quite boring.”

Shi Zhang adjusted the handheld shower, checked the water temperature, and rinsed off the foam from Song Fuzhi’s hair. “I want to.”

Perhaps because both were naked and vulnerable in the bathtub, stripped of all human adornments, it felt pure and candid. At this moment, Song Fuzhi felt safe.

Next to him was his husband, who always seemed to have a heart good at understanding others, as if he could embrace everything.

Song Fuzhi rested his chin on his arm, looking straight ahead. “The students I have this year are more lively than any other class I’ve taught before. They are creative and have a strong class cohesion. They are the kind of kids who can both play and study, and they don’t need much supervision. They are responsible for themselves.”

Shi Zhang nodded, signaling that he was listening.

“But I have always been strict with students. The class rules must be strictly followed, and if not, I get angry. To put it bluntly, I’m a bit rigid.”

Shi Zhang combed through his hair, smiling. “Class rules should be followed. Isn’t it for maintaining order?”

“That’s true.” Song Fuzhi smiled. “But many other teachers at our school have good relationships with students. While they are strict during class, they can also chat and laugh with students after class—something I can’t do.”

Shi Zhang, naturally, said, “Teachers should be serious. It’s not like we are telling jokes with the students.”

 Song Fuzhi asked, “Professor Shi, what are you like in your daily life?”

“University professors and high school teachers are quite different.”

Shi Zhang, like Song Fuzhi, leaned over the edge of the bathtub. They chatted side by side, like high school students talking during a break, leaning against the railing.

“In university, there are too many students, and professors only focus on teaching knowledge. Whether the students learn or not depends entirely on themselves. But high school students are not yet adults, and many of their behaviors still need guidance and correction from teachers. Without strict guidance from teachers, many kids might go astray in their lives.”

Shi Zhang’s voice was somewhat low when he said the last sentence, as if it carried a lot of emotion.

Song Fuzhi agreed with this difference, nodding.

Shi Zhang continued, “So, personally, I always feel that it’s more challenging to be a high school teacher than a university professor. University professors only teach, but high school teachers also have to nurture students.”

As Shi Zhang spoke, he leaned in closer to Song Fuzhi, kissing his cheek.

“I saw at the sports meeting that the kids in your class really like you. The looks and tones of the children can’t deceive people—Professor Song, you’re doing great, really great.”

After the kiss, Shi Zhang didn’t immediately move away. Instead, he leaned even closer, opening his arms and embracing Song Fuzhi. His voice was low, and each word was sincere.

“Professor Song, don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s exhausting. I feel for you.”

Song Fuzhi was momentarily stunned, and his heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

In the past, students and parents who got into good schools would often say “thank you” to Song Fuzhi. Other teachers would mostly comment on “high teaching standards,” and after achieving good results for the school, the leaders would praise him, saying Song Fuzhi was excellent at teaching.

But no one had ever expressed approval for him in such a pure and fervent manner before. No one had ever told him that he was working hard, and they felt for him.

Shi Zhang said, “Professor Song, you’re really great.”

Song Fuzhi, inexplicably, felt a bit teary. “Is that so?”

“Don’t demand too much of yourself.” Shi Zhang pinched his shoulder. “Relax a bit.”

Song Fuzhi leaned into Shi Zhang’s arm, and his wet hair brushed against Shi Zhang’s arm.

Chatting like this was very comfortable. When the other person shares a similar profession, they quickly understand each other’s feelings, and there’s a complete understanding of the significance of hard work.

So, Song Fuzhi completely relaxed, saying to Shi Zhang, “Actually, sometimes I envy the students in my class. They know how to have fun, lead colorful lives, and they’re brave.”

He self-mockingly added, “The old man is quite envious.”

Shi Zhang chuckled from his chest. “This old man can’t keep up. I can only envy those young people.”

“That’s what kids are like—they want to try everything. Young people are like that, full of untapped energy.”

Song Fuzhi looked at him for a moment and chuckled softly. “If I say I never tried things when I was young, and I was like an old man, going to school, doing homework, and leading a boring life,”

“Uh-huh,” Shi Zhang responded quickly. “What do you like? Start trying from now on.”

Song Fuzhi asked with a bit of a probing tone, “What if the things I like are childish, similar to what the kids in the class like?”

Shi Zhang laughed heartily and replied, “Things kids like aren’t necessarily childish; they might just be youthful and fun.”

“This means Professor Song has a young mindset.” Shi Zhang patted Song Fuzhi’s forehead.

Song Fuzhi laughed along, his tone light. “But I’m already over thirty.”

“Not old at all.” Shi Zhang pinched Song Fuzhi’s earlobe, pleased to see him shiver.

“Hey, wait a minute.”