Chapter 83: Exclusive to Jinjiang 1/3

The aftermath of this program was too big. Occasionally, Song Fuzhi still felt it was unreal, as if the past few days were a fantastic dream.

It wasn’t just for Song Fuzhi; it was evident that others were still immersed in the aftermath.

For example, the cosplay chat group that had been chattering all along, the extraordinarily lively “Husband” CP super topic on Weibo, and the official shots of the stage play reposted by Teacher Octopus.

Originally, Song Fuzhi wasn’t planning to watch the official shots because he felt embarrassed, but when he saw Teacher Octopus’s repost, he couldn’t help but take a look.

The video was even better than Song Fuzhi had imagined. The two ordinary people were kissing in a red flower rain, misty and magnificent, truly resembling a wedding.

The comment section was enthusiastic, and the viewers referred to this stage play as a “godly performance.” However, Song Fuzhi felt their evaluations were too exaggerated. The preparation time was not sufficient, and many performance details were rough, but the audience didn’t seem to mind.

– It’s so satisfying to see a real couple cosplay as a couple! If you want to hug, just hug for real; if you want to kiss, really kiss them!

– Really, I repeatedly watched the gazes exchanged between the two teachers. They were so emotionally expressive, and the cosplayers did an amazing job!

– One person as Blood and another as Book—we need more small couple roles like this! I want to see my CP in the three-dimensional world!

– Teacher Octopus next to FuFu really seems like a different person because he truly loves… You must be happy!

While Song Fuzhi was browsing Weibo, Shi Zhang sat beside him, gently massaging his shoulder pit as if he had something to say.

“Hmm?” Song Fuzhi glanced at him.

Shi Zhang asked with a somewhat serious tone, “Do you feel that playing cosplay has affected your life?”

He added, “I mean, because of the show, there’s suddenly a lot more followers. They will evaluate you and have expectations of you.”

Teacher Octopus had long been accustomed to this life, and he balanced online and real-life well. However, Song Fuzhi had only recently entered this world, and Shi Zhang was afraid he might not be used to it.

“Indeed, there are quite a lot of people, a bit overwhelming,” Song Fuzhi said as he looked at his video platform account, where the number of followers had increased to an almost frightening figure. He smiled and said, “But it’s lively, and I’ve made so many new friends.”

“And to be honest, by putting on makeup and dressing up as a character, I actually feel more relaxed,” Song Fuzhi paused. “I don’t care about the audience’s comments; as for expectations, what could they expect?”

Shi Zhang pointed to the endless comments section. “For example, people want to see us cosplay more couple roles, have more screen time, more interaction, and so on.”

Song Fuzhi countered, “Did Teacher Octopus always fulfill the fans’ demands before?”

Shi Zhang propped his forehead and chuckled, jokingly saying, “After playing for so many years, if they don’t dislike me, that’s already a miracle. What new demands could they have?”

“But you’re different,” Shi Zhang said as he looked at him. “Teacher FuFu is handsome and very popular.”

Song Fuzhi raised an eyebrow. The tone sounded a bit sour.

“So, don’t think too much about others; it’ll be exhausting.”

Ah, that’s what he wanted to say.

Song Fuzhi nodded. “I know. Anyway, the things I choose to do are things I want to do.”

“That’s good. I just hope that cosplay won’t become a burden for you.” Shi Zhang hugged him. “If you feel tired, let’s take a break.”

Song Fuzhi squinted his eyes. “Why are you only asking me? Professor Octopus, have you never felt tired all these years?”

Shi Zhang almost laughed. “I haven’t really felt tired. Instead, I can’t stop.”

Song Fuzhi was puzzled. “Why?”

“If I stop cosplaying, I’ll feel empty, prone to overthinking, and fantasize about some unrealistic things…” Shi Zhang didn’t look at Song Fuzhi and searched for words: “Cosplay used to be my spiritual support, but I don’t need it much now.”

Song Fuzhi was curious. “Why don’t you need it anymore?”

The answer burned clearly in Shi Zhang’s mind: “Because my fantasies came true, I have you,” but he cleared his throat, and his brain suddenly tensed, unable to speak it out no matter what.

The familiar nervousness came again, pumping hot blood from his heart to his limbs, causing a tingling sensation in his fingertips.

Even though Song Fuzhi was already Shi Zhang’s legal husband, representing a more special existence, in Shi Zhang’s heart, he would forever be an even more unique presence.

Some feelings, buried in the soil for too long, became increasingly difficult to articulate. After many years, when looking into the familiar eyes of an old friend, the heart would swell with aching excitement and pain.

In an instant, memories of the young, fair face from many years ago and thoughts of his own devious methods would flood back. This was an integral part of Shi Zhang that couldn’t be separated.

Shi Zhang didn’t answer, and they just gazed gently at each other.

This wasn’t the first time Shi Zhang hesitated to speak, and even the clumsy Teacher Octopus couldn’t hide the clues. If Shi Professor, the man who was rarely at a loss for words, was struggling, Song Fuzhi, no matter how foolish, could sense that something was amiss.

Worried that he might ask too casually or recklessly, Song Fuzhi thought for a moment and tentatively asked, “Professor Shi, did we meet before our blind date?”

Shi Zhang’s pupils contracted, and after a while, he said, “…Not just met.”

Song Fuzhi’s gaze flickered, not showing surprise on his face but just encouraging him to continue with his eyes.

“Actually, before that, you also met me, but you don’t remember,” Shi Zhang said.

The conversation suddenly turned back to him, and Song Fuzhi was a little surprised. “Ah, when did we meet?”

Shi Zhang gently interrupted him, “High school.”

Song Fuzhi… was thoroughly stunned.

“At the high school we attended?” Song Fuzhi asked.

Shi Zhang almost laughed, and he suddenly felt a bit lighter in his heart. “No, it’s our common high school alma mater.”

“When we were in high school?” Song Fuzhi was genuinely astonished. “We met at school so many years ago?”

“It’s easy to forget old acquaintances,” Shi Zhang smiled at him, picking up what he could say. “You were a freshman when I was a senior. You caught me smoking behind the school’s slope. But you didn’t deduct any points. Do you remember?”

The description was detailed enough. Song Fuzhi searched his brain for a long time, but those memories were too distant, like they belonged to a previous life, and he had no recollection.

He smiled apologetically, “Ah, that… maybe I caught too many people at that time.”

Shi Zhang gently interrupted him, “It’s okay, I know you don’t remember. It’s normal.”

Shi Zhang continued, “So, you probably don’t remember. You followed me back to my classroom, and I lent you a box of cooling oil to apply on your mosquito bites. Before you left, you told me not to smoke if I didn’t like it.”

Song Fuzhi opened his mouth and asked, “Did I say something like that?”

Shi Zhang: “Yes.”

Song Fuzhi found it hard to believe: “So, you… didn’t you like me since then?”

Like me?