Chapter 49: Exclusive to Jinjiang 2/2

Shi Zhang stood under the tall plane tree at the school gate, tall and clean, holding a bunch of light pink African chrysanthemums in his arms. He looked quite young, and at first glance, it seemed like a school grass waiting for his girlfriend after school.

“Professor Shi…?” Teacher Qian showed a puzzled expression, glanced at Song Fuzhi, and then realized, “Oh, oh, Teacher Song’s significant other?”

Song Fuzhi walked a few steps to Shi Zhang’s side, his voice a few degrees lower and a soft smile in his eyes. “Who is this?”

Shi Zhang asked seriously, “I’m looking for the high school’s teacher, Song; do you know him?”

Song Fuzhi tilted his head and said, “I seem to have heard of him.”

Shi Zhang handed the flowers to Song Fuzhi. “Can you help me give these to Teacher Song? Just say they’re from an admirer.”

Song Fuzhi took the flowers and burst into laughter.

Childish.

The two only had time to say a few words because other teachers gathered around to greet Shi Zhang.

In the lively and noisy scene of the last sports meeting, only a few teachers knew Shi Zhang.

Tonight, all the teachers were together, and those from the same office were more interested in him. The ones in a hurry to go home also slowed down, saying it was rare to meet and they should get to know each other.

Song Fuzhi’s eyes softened as he looked at Shi Zhang. Introducing “Shi Zhang, my spouse.”

Teacher Fu smiled and gathered her long hair. “No wonder Teacher Song has been so insightful this semester.”

“Still so romantic after being an old couple for so long, bringing flowers to pick up Teacher Song after work,” Teacher Ma said with a smile.

Old Zhou said, “They can’t be called an old couple yet; they just got married this year.”

Shi Zhang laughed and said, “People are old, but marriages aren’t.”

The teachers laughed.

The next-door class teacher interjected, “Before, Teacher Song was still showing off in the office, saying his husband is extremely handsome. The Chinese teacher said, ‘Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.’ Teacher Song said it’s not like that and mentioned that we’d understand when we see it with our own eyes—looking at it now, Old Song didn’t lie to us.”

Shi Zhang looked at Song Fuzhi with some surprise, making Song Fuzhi’s face suddenly a bit hot.

He vaguely remembered saying something similar, but he didn’t expect the next-door class teacher to directly spill the beans.

The teacher next to him looked at the flowers in Song Fuzhi’s hand and said with a smile, “This is the first time I’ve seen Teacher Song receiving flowers. In the past, our Song Fushi never received flowers from anyone!”

 Shi Zhang quickly grasped the main point and repeated naturally, “Were there others who sent flowers?”

“Absolutely!” The office teachers loved to gossip. Before Song Fuzhi could signal him, they spilled the beans: “That guy surnamed Qiao; he once sent such a big bouquet of red roses to the office. Teacher Song looked at it with a cold face, nothing like now. It’s totally different.”

Song Fuzhi helplessly patted the colleague’s back, whispering, “Please leave me some face.”

After listening, Shi Zhang didn’t say much; he just raised the corner of his mouth.

Since her husband appeared in person, there was no way they could join in the late-night barbecue.

Teachers urged them to go home early, and Shi Zhang didn’t hesitate, leading Song Fuzhi out of the crowd.

Song Fuzhi sat in the passenger seat, fastened his seatbelt, and still held the African chrysanthemums given by Shi Zhang on his knees. “Why did you suddenly come over tonight?”

Shi Zhang turned the steering wheel and said, “I worked several days in a row and didn’t have time at night. Today, I want to make it up to Teacher Song.”

Song Fuzhi lowered his head, playing with the flower petals. “Hmm, how will you compensate me?”

Shi Zhang thought for a moment: “What kind of late-night snack do you want? I’ll make it for you.”

Song Fuzhi didn’t eat much in the evening, and his stomach indeed growled at the mention of food.

“Fried dumplings and fried chicken legs, okay?” Song Fuzhi added with a smile. “Suddenly, I want to eat some junk food.”

Shi Zhang indulgently agreed, “Sure thing.”

In the elevator, the two stood close together. Song Fuzhi still held the flowers, which, unexpectedly, matched him quite well in their girlish pink color.

Shi Zhang glanced at him through the mirror and suddenly said in a slow tone, “Teacher Song is quite popular; so many people send you flowers.”

“This isn’t really receiving; I only accepted flowers from you,” Song Fuzhi replied.

Shi Zhang smiled lightly and said, “Hmm.”

Song Fuzhi looked at Shi Zhang, suddenly reached out, and touched his jaw.

“Oops, it pricks.” Song Fuzhi withdrew his hand.

Shi Zhang also touched his own face and said, “Sorry, I’ve been too busy these days; I didn’t shave much.”

Back home, Song Fuzhi put the African chrysanthemums in the living room vase and stood with Shi Zhang in front of the mirror to wash their hands.

After shaking off the water, Song Fuzhi examined Shi Zhang’s jaw for a few seconds and impulsively said, “Let me shave you.”

Shi Zhang tilted his head up to make it easier for him, showing some interest. “Why did you suddenly ask this?”

“Uh.” Shi Zhang seemed unprepared for this sudden question, but he gathered his thoughts and answered, “Time is squeezed out, for example, exercising between two classes. During the busiest time, I had to reduce sleep and entertainment time.”

Recalling those days, most of the cosplays’ makeup and scenes were researched by Shi Zhang late at night, but he enjoyed it.

The angle of shaving wasn’t quite right, so Song Fuzhi sat on the edge of the sink, allowing Shi Zhang to stand between his legs—much better.

“Is that too hard?” Song Fuzhi sighed. “Professor Shi is amazing.”

Shi Zhang, not daring to make any big movements, spoke with a slightly amused tone, “It doesn’t feel hard because I like it.”

“How about you? What would you like to do?” Shi Zhang lowered his eyes and looked at Song Fuzhi, asking, “What does Teacher Song want?”

Song Fuzhi slowly replied, “Currently, there’s nothing. But there might be something in the future.”

“If it’s something that will cause you stress, don’t force yourself,” Shi Zhang advised. “But if it’s something you like, then I encourage you to start early.”

Song Fuzhi smiled and agreed, “Yeah.” He added, “It’s not like we’re early, considering our age.”

Shi Zhang thought for a moment and said seriously, “Even one day earlier is considered early.”

Song Fuzhi turned off the razor, reached out, and touched Shi Zhang’s jaw. “Very smooth.”

Shi Zhang rubbed his clean jaw against Song Fuzhi’s neck, and Song Fuzhi, dodging playfully, suddenly realized what position they were in.

To make it convenient for the other to shave, Song Fuzhi had been sitting on the sink with both knees relaxed, hanging between Shi Zhang’s waist.

Now they were very close, and Song Fuzhi’s breath was filled with Shi Zhang’s scent.

They locked eyes at a close distance, and the atmosphere changed within seconds.

Neither spoke, and it wasn’t clear who initiated the kiss. They naturally started kissing each other.

Song Fuzhi instinctively climbed up Shi Zhang’s neck, hands entwined behind his neck.

The razor was casually placed on the table, and Shi Zhang reached out, not letting it fall.

In this slow and intimate kiss, Song Fuzhi gasped and said, “I suddenly don’t feel hungry.”

Shi Zhang softly hummed, took a step back, and then leaned in for another kiss.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, he lifted Song Fuzhi’s thighs with both hands, exerting strength and firmly lifting him off the sink.

In that moment of suspension, Song Fuzhi tightened his grip around Shi Zhang’s neck, and his heartbeat went wild.

“Wow!”

Song Fuzhi’s mind went blank for a moment, and he was stunned.

In his memory, he hadn’t been lifted like this by anyone since he graduated from elementary school.

Song Fuzhi, who considered himself at least physically fit, with muscles throughout his body having real weight, couldn’t comprehend how Shi Zhang could lift him so effortlessly.

For an adult male, such a rigid posture might make one feel somewhat uncomfortable. Song Fuzhi tried twice to jump down, but both times Shi Zhang firmly held down his thighs.

Hanging onto him for balance, Song Fuzhi frowned, “Your injury—”

 —

Shi Zhang briefly responded to him, “Completely fine now; the scab is almost completely off.”

*

Song Fuzhi lazily breathed, lifted her head, and gave Shi Zhang an affectionate kiss. Behind them were a few fallen petals of African chrysanthemums, making the sofa look like a spring garden.

Yes, they once again involved the flowers placed aside. Someone accidentally knocked over the vase, and flowers scattered all over the floor.

“Sorry, Flower Brother.” Song Fuzhi apologized for the flower arrangement.

He fumbled to get up, picked up the fallen flowers, and placed them on the coffee table.

Shi Zhang helped him tidy up, saying, “It’s okay.”

“I’m not apologizing to you.” Song Fuzhi smiled.

From childhood rubber duckies to flowers, it seemed like they would inadvertently harm innocent bystanders every time.

Song Fuzhi lay for a while, casually put on some clothes, and walked inside as if nothing happened.

Shi Zhang, half-lying on the sofa, called out to him, “Where are you going?”

“To the bedroom to get cigarettes.” Song Fuzhi turned back. “The professor doesn’t mind, right?”

Shi Zhang shook his head.

Song Fuzhi brought back the cigarettes, and the lighter produced a flame with a “click.” He took a puff first, then handed it to Shi Zhang’s lips.

Shi Zhang lowered his head and took a drag from Song Fuzhi’s cigarette.

“This time it’s achieved,” Shi Zhang exhaled with a smile. “Cigarettes after sex.”

Song Fuzhi smiled.

“Is it good?” Shi Zhang asked.

Song Fuzhi thought of a metaphor, but before he could say it, he burst into laughter.

“Last time was like that street-side small restaurant, very direct and delicious. It was like the first time, even though it was spicy, it felt amazing. But this time is like a three-star Michelin, you know? Appetizer, main course, dessert, one after another, kaiseki cuisine, that kind. Each dish is small, but as you eat, you gradually feel full, and the service is impeccable, except for the word ‘good,’ I can’t describe it with anything else.”

Shi Zhang chuckled for a while, then seriously looked back at Song Fuzhi. “Fuzhi, I think you’re really hungry.”

Shi Zhang put on his home clothes and added an apron outside. He went to the kitchen to prepare a midnight snack for Song Fuzhi.

Pan-fried dumplings and fried chicken legs, the aroma gradually wafted out.

Song Fuzhi sat on the sofa, squinting his eyes slightly. His stomach was indeed empty.

But to be honest, the Michelin three-star felt like air in the stomach compared to a bowl of fried rice from the street.

In other words, the professor was good everywhere, just too gentle.