Chapter 64: Exclusive to Jinjiang 1/2

During the break, Teacher Song stood at the classroom door, supervising the students going downstairs for exercise.

The final exams were approaching, and many kids stubbornly stayed in their seats, refusing to move, absorbed in their studies. Even with Teacher Song standing at the door, shouting was necessary to get this group of bookworms to budge.

As they walked from the classroom to the ground floor, they gradually emerged from the atmosphere of studying and started chatting about lunch plans and various random topics.

“Recently, there’s a new cosplayer who’s really popular. Have you seen him? So handsome!” Fan Tong gestured.

“I’ve seen him too! His name is Fufu, right? He really reproduces the character well, and his body is—wow. Ah, I also want to work out and get that figure.”

Teacher Song walked alongside the students, trying hard to control his expression. He wanted to keep a distance from them, but his ears couldn’t help but perk up.

“But it seems that Fu Fu might have some gossip. Some people say he’s riding the popularity wave.”

“But isn’t Wen Qian even more of a wave rider? The crucial thing is that Wen Qian is out of character. I can’t stand it. Most likely, only cloud players who care about looks like him, right? Compared to that, Fu Fu reproduces too much, easily outperforming other cosplayers in terms of skill.”

Yao Xinxin said quietly, “I think Fufu really likes Octopus Teacher. I find it quite touching.”

Fan Tong made a boxing gesture: “I don’t know what so many people are cursing about in the comments. Last weekend, I argued with a troll under Teacher Fu post until 1 a.m. I was so annoyed.”

Song Fuzhi:…

That day, Teacher Song added a line of comments to Fan Tong’s assignment: “Spend less time online, read more books.”

Later, Yao Xinxin came to talk to Song Fuzhi again. She said her parents basically agreed, but she had to maintain her grades in the top ten of the class this semester.

The shy girl thanked Song Fuzhi, and it was evident that without the teacher’s lengthy conversation with her parents, convincing them solely based on Yao Xinxin’s words would have been difficult.

Sometimes, parents were like that. They listened to the teacher and the fortune teller, but were unwilling to listen to their own child’s voice.

Song Fuzhi shook his head, telling Yao Xinxin that there was no need to thank him. He said, “This may be just the beginning of many difficulties. You may have chosen a difficult path.”

Yao Xinxin nodded, saying she understood. She was a stubborn girl, and Song Fuzhi was moved by her determination.

For those who truly want to do something, it’s never too late to start, regardless of when.

Whether you’re seventeen or in your thirties, it’s neither early nor late.

On this evening, Professor Shi was working late in the lab, and the house was quiet, with only the light in the study room on.

Teacher Song was alone at home. He reached into the desk and pulled out a key, unlocking the bottom drawer of the bookshelf.

The reference books that were originally used to conceal things had long been moved by Song Fuzhi. As soon as the drawer was opened, one could see book covers filled with a sense of the years, featuring the young Teacher Zhang cosplaying as a cool boy.

Song Fuzhi took out several volumes of photographs, opened them, and the pages rustled.

In each photo book, there were scattered leaves, some already dried and flattened, successfully transformed into bookmarks.

These were the leaves Song Fuzhi picked up from trees, each with a small significance.

The earliest one was a cute elliptical locust leaf, taken from Professor Shi’s university.

That day, under the rain curtain, Shi Zhang and he kissed under the locust tree. Not far away were teachers and students, two adults acting as impulsively as kids.

The leaf fell on Song Fuzhi, and after hesitating for a moment, he didn’t throw it away. Instead, he brought it home, dried it, and placed it in a thick dictionary.

Later, he often brought home some leaves, such as when he brought back the maple leaves from the hill when camping with Shi Zhang’s friends.

Occasionally, when he and Shi Zhang explored shops on the other side of the city on weekends and they found something delicious, Song Fuzhi would secretly bring back a leaf from a roadside tree.

Each leaf had a date and location written on it, like a small, living diary, recording their life.

Song Fuzhi didn’t make specimens; putting them in books was the simplest choice.

Later, he learned that Shi Zhang was the teacher. When he returned home, he was shocked to flip through the old photos of Zhang and successfully find a face similar to Shi Zhang’s on the lightly made-up young boy.

Song Fuzhi transferred those scattered leaves from dictionaries and textbooks to the photo albums, one by one, pressing them down.

Today, Song Fuzhi didn’t come to pick leaves.

He carefully took the fragile leaves from the photo album, turned to the first page, and began looking at the photo album he had flipped through many times before.

Before, when looking at the photos of Teacher Zhang on the pages, Song Fuzhi’s thoughts were not so clean. Now, his mood has completely changed.

When shooting the first cosplay collection, Teacher Zhang was probably in his twenties. Song Fuzhi wondered what he was doing in real life when taking these photos.

Studying abroad? Or repeating failed experiments in the lab, or struggling with publishing papers?

Did his mother ever contact him? Did Shi Zhenglin abandon him?

It’s all a long time ago, and Shi Fuzhi knows that Shi Zhang may not remember now.

But through these photos printed on paper, Song Fuzhi could see a side of Shi Zhang’s life.

At least, in the process of dressing up as these characters, Shi Zhang really enjoyed himself.

Now, when Song Fuzhi flips through Teacher Zhang’s photos, it’s like looking at Shi Zhang’s growing-up album.

The gaze used to be straightforward; now it’s gentle.

At the end of the first photo album, Teacher Zhang wrote a conclusion.

In essence, cosplay brought him a lot of joy. He talked about the small difficulties encountered in cosplaying and the moments of laughter and tears, thanking everyone for their support and love.

The young Zhang was much more approachable than the later Zhangyu in his thirties. He was sincere and cute with his words.

Previously, Song Fuzhi always skipped this conclusion. He had no interest in Teacher Zhang’s life story before, but now it’s completely reversed.

In the last sentence of the conclusion, Song Fuzhi saw Zhang write, “If possible, I want to play cosplay for a lifetime! Cosplay as a young man now, as an uncle later, and even as an old man… Haha, doesn’t it sound great?”

Song Fuzhi couldn’t help but smile.

The next moment, there was a sound from the entrance, followed by the noise of the shoe cabinet. Then came Shi Zhang’s voice: “Fuzhi, I’m back.”

Song Fuzhi stiffened all over, and a layer of sweat broke out on his back.

He got too absorbed in looking and didn’t pay attention to the situation—damn!

After a half-second of stiffness, Song Fuzhi hurriedly clipped all those leaf bookmarks back into the photo album, quickly stuffed these books back into the bottom drawer, and with a tip of his toe, the drawer closed silently.

When Shi Zhang pushed open the study door, what he saw was Song Fuzhi frowning and thinking deeply over the teaching materials, holding a pen, and absentmindedly scribbling on the materials.

“Oh, you’re back?” Song Fuzhi casually glanced at Shi Zhang, gave a small yawn, and said, “The teaching materials are too difficult to write.”

Shi Zhang raised an eyebrow lightly. “The first time I’ve seen Teacher Song pondering over teaching materials, is this lesson difficult? Wasn’t it all quite easy before?”

Song Fuzhi hesitated for half a second, propped up his head, and said, “Difficult.”

In his heart, he wondered if he exaggerated his acting. He probably couldn’t match half of those little monkeys in their class who were good at pretending.

Having been a good student for half of his life, the last time Teacher Song did such sneaky things was probably reading comics in his mom’s office.

And that comic was still Shi Zhang’s; why was everything related to him?

On Shi Zhang’s side, he thought, thankfully, that Teacher Song was busy tonight. Otherwise, he would definitely notice the brand-new custom-made suit he brought home and would ask why he bought a suit and for what occasion.

The two of them quietly worked at their desks for a while. When they stood up to prepare for a shower, Shi Zhang glanced casually at Song Fuzhi and couldn’t help but pause.

Before, at the bottom of Song Lao’s bookshelf, there was always a small lock. It was given as a matching gift when they bought the bookshelf, and they laughed that the style was old-fashioned, like an old cadre from the last century.

However, now the lock was nowhere to be found.

Song Fuzhi stood up and stretched lazily. Shi Zhang calmly shifted his gaze away and opened the study room door for him.

Shi Zhang had initially made some unrealistic speculations, guessing what Teacher Song might have locked in the drawer—perhaps love letters from his youth. This had troubled Professor Shi for a while, but he eventually got used to it. However, now that Song Fuzhi had suddenly unlocked it himself, Shi Zhang’s curiosity was piqued once again.

But Shi Zhang just glanced at it casually, walked out of the study, and went to fill the bathtub.

—

In the Teacher Zhang photo album, Song Fuzhi selected the most popular one from that era.

Xiao Zhang, in his twenties, already had a great figure with distinct muscle lines, situated between youth and maturity, exuding a masculine charm.

The original character was a high school student with a tough personality and a handsome appearance, always wearing a black coat and a black hat, looking cool but with a sullen face, always appearing impatient, and his catchphrase was, “That’s enough.”