Chapter 559: Rising Against All Odds, Transformation, the Car

Brought Zhang Bing two dishes.

Li Heng and Zhou Shihe didn't rush back to school; instead, they chatted for a while with a few others in front of the roasted sweet potato stall.

At that moment, the police arrived, and so did the hospital ambulance.

They saw Hu Ping being taken away in the ambulance, and He Qian getting into the police car.

The group was stunned.

Everyone exchanged glances; Li Heng, Tang Daoling, and Zhang Bing immediately headed toward Lantian Restaurant, and before they could even ask, they'd already heard the full story from the bystanders.

Seeing them return, Wei Sisi hurriedly asked: "What happened?"

Tang Daoling promptly recounted what he'd heard.

After listening, Wei Sisi sighed: "I hope Hu Ping learns his lesson this time—he threw away a winning hand."

Everyone agreed: even if Hu Ping hadn't won over Wei Xiaozhu, his own conditions were excellent; if he could just steady his mind, there were plenty of outstanding girls to choose from.

Bai Wanying commented: "Actually, Hu Ping was just sulking—he never expected to run into someone so tough this time."

Wei Xiaozhu said nothing after hearing this.

Tang Daoling said: "I think I should go to the hospital to check on Old Hu."

Li Heng said: "I'll come with you."

Hearing this, Zhang Bing began packing up his stall, putting the items into a rented house nearby, then planned to drop off the girls at school before the three boys headed for the hospital.

By the time Li Heng and the others arrived at the hospital, Hu Ping's parents had also arrived and were waiting for the injury assessment results.

Not long after, the guys from Room 325 flooded in, all rushing over upon hearing the news.

A few more minutes passed, and the results came out; Hu Ping's mother anxiously asked: "Doctor, is it serious?"

The doctor handed over the report: "It's not too bad—just a scalp abrasion and mild concussion."

Hu Ping's parents breathed a huge sigh of relief, repeatedly expressing their thanks. Only then did they have the chance and energy to fully entertain their son's roommates.

Since Old Hu was injured, the group originally planned to stay a little while before returning to the dorm, but his parents were so enthusiastic they couldn't refuse, and ended up having late-night snacks together.

By the time they got back to school, it was nearly ten o'clock; as soon as they entered the dorm, Zhang Bing and the others grabbed their clothes and buckets and headed for the communal shower room.

The dorm was suddenly left with only Li Heng, Li Guoyi, and Hu Ping.

Li Heng asked: "Old Li, why aren't you going to shower?"

Li Guoyi grinned slyly, pulled out a pack of Huazǐ, lit one for Li Heng himself, then asked Hu Ping: "Old Hu, you're injured—I won't give you one."

"Who cares? Give me one, don't be stingy," Hu Ping, already irritable, reached out straightaway for a cigarette.

Li Guoyi nodded and bowed as he lit one for Hu Ping too, then added to Li Heng: "Heng-ge, I already showered at the guesthouse this afternoon."

Showered at the guesthouse?

Why at the guesthouse?

Hu Ping asked: "Zhao Yan? Or did you get a new girl?"

Li Guoyi exhaled two perfect smoke rings: "I'm a loyal man—it's definitely Senior Zhao Yan."

Hearing this, Hu Ping, already simmering with frustration, blurted out a curse: "Fuck! My head got cracked open, and you're living it up—Heaven's unfair!"

Li Guoyi chuckled, jumped up, and taunted: "Fair? Old Hu, you've really been addled by women—how can you say such nonsense? Has this damn heaven ever been fair?

Look at Heng-daddy—he's handsome, talented, rich, and has this flawless artistic aura—who wouldn't be smitten?

Look at you and me—we've got enough cash, and even if we can't snatch girls' virginity from a crowd, plenty still throw themselves at us. But look at some guys on campus—they eat steamed buns and mantou for twenty out of twenty-one meals a week. Old Hu, learn to be content."

Hu Ping remained deeply depressed, lifting his head to ask: "Why are you two fine, but I'm the one who got hurt?"

Li Guoyi shot Li Heng a sly glance: "Heng-daddy, this guy's really been turned stupid by women—should we send him back to the hospital?"

Li Heng smoked half a cigarette, letting the other half rest loosely between his fingers, unlit, letting it burn freely: "Old Hu's in a bad mood—understand."

Hu Ping finished half the cigarette in one drag, then grabbed another and stuck it in his mouth: "Fuck! Understand my ass! He Qian's punch was so fast—I still don't even know how I ended up on the ground."

Li Heng said: "Didn't she warn you beforehand? She's trained in martial arts—told you to be careful."

Hu Ping rubbed his occiput, a little shaken: "I didn't think she was serious—I thought she was just bluffing. If I'd known she was real, I'd never have chased her—damn! I wasted two months."

After some idle chatter, Li Heng left the No. 4 male dormitory before the gate closed.

As soon as he left, Li Guoyi shut the dorm door and said: "Old Hu, you messed up today."

Hu Ping asked: "What mistake?"

Li Guoyi said: "You shouldn't have asked that dumb question right in front of Heng-ge—what do you mean 'you two are fine'? Are you the only one with problems?"

Hu Ping widened his eyes: "Isn't that right? One official girlfriend—Xiao Han—one romantic interest—Mai Sui—even Zhou Shihe, whom I'd never dare speak to, is always hanging around Heng—aren't they all top-tier girls?"

Li Guoyi smirked: "Yeah, they're top-tier, no doubt—but you've got to look at Heng-ge's current status and wallet! Status and prestige? Maybe we'll never reach them in a lifetime. But…"

Li Guoyi held up his thumb and index finger in front of Hu Ping's face: "Money! Do you have this much? Does your family's savings add up to even a fraction of his? If not, don't even compare—you're just asking for pain, self-inflicted."

Hu Ping looked miserable, sighed: "Then what about you? Teach me your secret."

"Pfft! You've lost your confidence because of He Qian. Secret? My secret is knowing your limits—never touch a woman you can't handle." Li Guoyi spat into the trash bin.

Hu Ping smoked, then asked: "How do you tell which women you can't touch? Like He Qian—I had no idea she was that strong."

Li Guoyi squinted, twisted his mouth: "Wei Xiaozhu—she's the little princess of Fudan. College isn't about not dating—it's about high standards. Do you think someone like her would even look at you and me?"

Hearing this, Hu Ping's cigarette suddenly lost its flavor—he pulled it from his mouth, stared at the glowing tip for a long time, then said: "The girls we common guys can't even dream of… aren't necessarily valuable to her."

The word "we" carried deep meaning.

Li Guoyi pretended not to understand, smiling: "You blew up at Lantian Restaurant today—did He Qian say something that provoked you?"

Hu Ping crushed the cigarette between his fingers: "Don't bring it up—I'm dizzy. I'm going to lie down."

Saying this, Hu Ping climbed onto his bed.

Li Guoyi watched him, smoking quietly, and finally relaxed: Old Hu didn't have the guts to take his anger out on Heng-ge.

…

Back at Lushan Village.

As Li Heng reached the middle of the alley, he ran into Yu Shuheng.

They locked eyes; he asked: "Teacher, it's this late—where are you going?"

Yu Shuheng didn't answer right away; instead, she walked over, circled him thoughtfully, then leaned close and whispered: "Good—no perfume."

Li Heng was speechless: "You don't trust me that much?"

Yu Shuheng looked at him with a half-smile: "The flag at home flies steady, the colorful flags flutter outside—little boy, what makes you worthy of trust?"

Li Heng clicked his tongue: "Where to?"

Yu Shuheng smiled faintly: "Hug me, and I'll tell you."

Li Heng rolled his eyes: "Teacher, don't play—this is outside."

Yu Shuheng's eyes flickered strangely: "Then you'd hug me inside?"

Li Heng's gaze dropped to her full chest.

Yu Shuheng froze slightly, then said: "I'm going to see Old Fu and his wife off to Tokyo."

Li Heng was startled: "Is Sister Chen going too?"

Yu Shuheng nodded: "There are many opportunities in Tokyo's stock market, real estate, and industry. Old Fu won't be back soon—Siya is going to accompany him."

He leaned close: "You've never been abroad—want to come with me and take a look?"

Li Heng shook his head: "I don't have a passport."

Yu Shuheng said: "I'll get you one."

Li Heng didn't question her power; after thinking, he shook his head: "No—I'm going to lock myself in and write my new book starting tomorrow."

Writing was the top priority—and one of the main reasons she'd fallen for this talented boy. Hearing this, Yu Shuheng immediately abandoned the idea of a romantic trip to Tokyo with him.

She reminded him: "Don't forget what you promised me in Aba—I want to be the first reader."

Li Heng thought: I'll just leave the manuscript on the desk—so long as I don't know who's read it, its first reading will always be mine.

But thoughts were thoughts—he couldn't say it aloud: "I haven't forgotten. How long will you be gone, Teacher?"

"Two days in Tokyo, then a trip to the U. . and Singapore to handle matters—I'll be back in about seven days," Yu Shuheng told him precisely.

Li Heng asked: "Have the classes been rescheduled?"

Yu Shuheng said: "I've already taught all next week's lessons in these past few days."

Li Heng gave a thumbs-up: "Teacher, you're more dedicated than I imagined."

Yu Shuheng's deep black eyes fixed on his, her voice soft: "If I hadn't met you, I'd be even more dedicated."

What did "if I hadn't met you" mean?

It was practically a confession in disguise.

Faced with this sudden surge of emotion, Li Heng held her gaze for a long moment, then spoke up: "I'll walk you to the car."

Yu Shuheng nodded, stepped past him, and walked ahead toward the alley's mouth.

Li Heng turned and followed.

The two said nothing more, walking one behind the other until they reached the alley's mouth.

It was deep night, winter, pitch-black all around, with almost no one on the road.

Opening the car door and stepping into the backseat, Yu Shuheng told Liu Bei in the driver's seat: "I'll talk with him."

Liu Bei understood, turned off the headlights, shut the driver's door, nodded to Liu Ying, and both took up positions—one ahead, one behind—to keep watch.

Li Heng got in, closed the door, and asked: "Huh? Why turn off the headlights?"

Yu Shuheng didn't answer—she leaned forward and kissed his lips, then lay back, resting her entire body on his thighs.

The Mercedes' backseat was cramped; she lay with her legs bent up.

Li Heng touched the spot on his lip where she'd kissed him, then his right hand unconsciously slid to her abdomen, slowly stroking it.

Yu Shuheng pressed his hand with both of hers, her voice warm in the darkness: "Let the teacher lie quietly for five minutes."

Hearing this, Li Heng paused, his mischievous right hand halting on her lower abdomen, no longer moving.

Five minutes wasn't long, but neither was it short; the car was silent, their faces invisible, their presence felt only through bodily contact.

After a long while, Yu Shuheng asked: "Do you remember what you promised me in Bai Luyuan this March?"

Li Heng thought back: "I remember."

Yu Shuheng asked: "What?"

Li Heng said: "During winter break, Teacher came to my house."

Yu Shuheng smiled gently, her voice wise: "Say it differently."

Li Heng complied: "It wasn't you coming to my house—it was me inviting you to my hometown to experience rural life."

Yu Shuheng released his hand, stretched lazily, and said contentedly: "You're teachable. After all, I'm your university teacher—you should know how to show respect."

But no sooner had she finished speaking than she felt a hand press against her left chest. She froze, didn't pull it away, but slowly closed her eyes, sensing every movement of his touch.

Though born in the south, Li Heng, having lived two lives, had long mastered northern dough-kneading techniques—kneading, rolling, pinching—all second nature, executed with precision.

After only a moment, Yu Shuheng's crimson lips trembled, then trembled again, holding back any sound.

Finally unable to bear it, she rolled over, half-lifting herself, then willingly sat in his lap, arms circling his neck, leaning forward to peck his lips once, then again with tender affection—their four red lips barely touching, no deep kiss.

Yet this quiet intimacy stirred the heart more than any deep kiss; at that moment, both their souls felt as if they had slipped free, floating, trembling.

After eight or nine mutual pecks, she lay curled against his chest and whispered: "Little brother, take a break. If you keep this up, Teacher won't go to Tokyo tonight."

Li Heng immediately withdrew his hands from her body: "Has the shareholding in Hengyuan Investment really been settled?"

Yu Shuheng asked: "What's wrong with it?"

Li Heng said seriously: "It's not wrong—it's just that taking 51% feels like too much. I'd feel unworthy."

Yu Shuheng smiled, slipped out of his arms, and bent to tidy her disheveled clothes: "If I'd feared you'd refuse, I'd originally planned to give you 67%—and transfer another 16% to you from my share."

67% meant absolute control of the company.

Li Heng fell silent, then spoke after a long while: "Why are you so good to me?"

Yu Shuheng froze, then shook her long hair: "That's a novel question—I never thought about it. If not you, who else would I be good to?"

Before he could answer, she added: "Rest easy. I won't scheme behind your back against your other lovers. Either I win your love openly, compete fairly with them, or I lose openly."

She had long understood: only what is won honestly lasts. He won't resent you afterward, won't subtly neglect you, and can live beside you without guilt.

This was a major shift in her thinking.

From once being clueless, sending people to investigate Huang Zhaoyi, to now being open and unashamed, she had grown clearer about her feelings. The deeper she loved, the more she cherished her own dignity, unwilling to let him see her as jealous.

A woman may be jealous—it's natural, like selfishness is innate.

But she must learn to control it. Aside from Song Yu and Zhou Shihe, whom she found threatening, the other women didn't leave her heart still, but she could largely suppress her inner ripples.

Of course, that Great Green Robe was an exception.

Since Li Heng had been with Huang Zhaoyi, she had never met her face-to-face. She didn't know how she'd feel when they finally did.

She fastened the last button on her coat, raised her wrist to check her watch: "Time's running short—I must hurry to the airport. Go home. Don't stay up late. Sleep before 1 a. ."

She could have left earlier, but she'd waited, inexplicably wanting to see him one last time.

Only when time grew tight did she finally depart.

But unexpectedly, she met him in the alley—slightly surprised, pleasantly so.

"Alright." Not a farewell of life and death, Li Heng didn't indulge in melodrama or false sentiment. He opened the car door and stepped out cleanly.

The moment he stepped out, Liu Bei got in.

Liu Ying got into another car.

Zeng Yun wasn't there. Yu Shuheng had left him behind to secretly protect Li Heng, guarding Buildings 25, 26, and 27, to prevent mishaps while she was away.

…

In truth, Li Heng felt Yu Teacher's changes most deeply.

Before, she'd always been cold to him—the innate control of a great family, so strong it made him instinctively recoil.

But as time passed, Yu Teacher slowly moved her heart to him, and as her feelings deepened, she reflected constantly, changing bit by bit.

There's an old saying: Don't fix your impression of a person in their first form—see how much they've changed for you.

Those who truly change themselves for you are sincere.

So now, his feelings toward Yu Teacher changed daily—from initial resistance, to now quietly enjoying being with her. That was his response.

Old Fu and his wife had moved away.

Yu Teacher had just left.

Building 27's windows and doors were tightly shut, pitch black.

Li Heng stood at the alley's end, suddenly struck by absurdity. The once lively scenes felt like a dream; now, the quiet felt real.

Were they all still in the dorm? Thinking this, he pulled out his key and entered his own small house.

As he passed the door, he glanced at the withered ginkgo tree, thinking he'd need to replant one come spring.

That was his scheming bride's labor—he had to care, couldn't forget.

Yes, and he'd need to review books, learn the planting techniques and precautions for ginkgo trees.

Entered the house, climbed to the second floor.

Li Heng first bathed and washed his clothes, then sat properly on the attic swing, gazing up at the dark, starless sky—no moon, no stars.

He felt uneasy.

With Ma Sui gone, the house felt wrong everywhere, hollow inside, as if his soul had been stolen.

When will she come back?

Will she come back tonight?

When the clock passed 11: 0, Li Heng gave up waiting. He rose and went to the study.

Sitting upright, he calmed his breath for a long while, then pulled out a fountain pen, ink bottle, and colored stationery.

He would write a letter—to Song Yu.

Among his three wives in his past life, he could call Zijin directly, visit Xiao Han on weekends, but only letters could maintain contact with Song Yu.

Just as the pen tip filled with thick ink, he remembered something, set the pen aside, and reached into his bag to retrieve a bracelet.

The bracelet Chen Lijun had passed to him through Liu Li.

The bracelet wasn't cheap—solid gold, at least ten grams, possibly more. He stared at it, wondering: Was Chen Lijun using Liu Li to make him give up hope?

Did that young man understand this meaning?

And where was Chen Lijun now? What was she doing? Was she in danger?

He feared Zijin's dream.

Though after the college entrance exam in his past life, he'd had no contact with her, their friendship during high school had been deep, and his impression of her remained very good.

After about two or three minutes, Li Heng rubbed the bracelet with his fingers, then placed it in the bottom drawer of his desk—where two letters from Chen Lijun already lay, perfectly matched with the bracelet.

He had no intention of opening the letters.

Let them stay sealed—memories to savor in old age.

Having done this, Li Heng returned to his chair and resumed writing to Song Yu.

As he wrote, he mentioned Chen Lijun, asking her to analyze the situation.

For Song Yu, Chen's secret crush on him was no secret—discussing it might reveal unexpected insights.

He wrote for over twenty minutes, blew dry the ink, and set the letter aside. He didn't move from his chair, but picked up a document he'd brought back from Aba and began reading.

About half an hour later, having organized the plot's flow, Li Heng began again, pen in hand, writing his new novel.

He wrote Chapter Two: "The Day of Domination."

At this moment, the Tusi's Lady was calling out upstairs and downstairs, searching for me.

If Father were home, he'd never stop me from such games. But these days, Mother was in charge—and things were different.

…

Perhaps because he'd rested long, or because he was well-prepared, tonight his mind was unusually calm, clear, bursting with inspiration.

The fountain pen scratched softly across the white paper; in less than four hours, he'd written six thousand words.

He stopped, glanced at the time: 3: 8.

Damn. Lost track of time—over two hours past Yu Teacher's 1 a. . curfew.

He rubbed his slightly swollen temples. His mental state was fine, so he didn't rest immediately, but began reviewing.

He checked paragraph by paragraph, sentence by sentence, word by word, studying the characters' personalities, speech patterns, and psychological descriptions in different scenes.

With relentless perfectionism, he revised the draft three times. Outside, dawn had broken. When he set down his pen, exhaustion hit—he yawned repeatedly, his earlier vigor vanished.

He rotated his aching wrists, capped the pen, tightened the ink bottle, stretched, left the study, went to the bathroom, then returned to his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed onto the bed, falling fast asleep.

As always, his manuscript lay on the desk, not locked in the drawer.

He did this because he felt someone wanted to read it.

And indeed, at noon, Ma Sui hurried to Lushan Village with a box of food.

With her was Zhou Shihe.

That morning, someone hadn't shown up at the sports field to watch her host the opening ceremony. Ma Sui guessed he'd stayed up all night writing—she was worried, and wanted to scold him.

But she thought and thought, unsure how to scold him.

Since childhood, she'd rarely argued with anyone, didn't even know many common rural curses.

Thinking of this, Ma Sui suddenly asked: "Shihe, can you argue?"

Zhou Shihe, beside her, was startled, unsure what her friend was getting at, and shook her head: "I don't know."

Ma Sui asked: "Why don't you know?"

Zhou Shihe said gently, "I've never argued with anyone—I might, or I might not."

Mai Sui nodded in agreement: "Me too."

Zhou Shihe frowned: "Why are you asking this? Aren't you worried about him?"

Mai Sui said, "He promised to meet you at the playground yesterday, then stood you up. He must've stayed up all night—I want to scold him."

Zhou Shihe laughed softly: "He's your heart's treasure—he's more precious to you than your own life. Are you sure you can bring yourself to?"

Mai Sui looked anxious: "I'm afraid he's wearing himself out."

Unexpectedly, Zhou Shihe said lightly, "It's not that serious."

Mai Sui turned to look at her.

Zhou Shihe explained, "Once you get used to staying up late, it's no different—he always catches up on sleep afterward. It's become his own biological rhythm. Like the greats—my grandfather used to work at night, and he lived past eighty."

Mai Sui found this reasonable.

Then Zhou Shihe added, "Still, it's better not to stay up late. Regular rest is definitely healthier."

Walking along the cobblestones to the end of the alley, the two women looked up at the window of his bedroom—it was tightly shut. They exchanged glances and slowed their steps instinctively, moving as silently as cats from entering the house to climbing to the second floor.

Afraid of waking him.

They placed the takeout food on the coffee table, lining the bottom with a newspaper. Later, Mai Sui crept quietly to the master bedroom door and pressed her ear to listen.

Inside, it was perfectly quiet.

After thinking it over, Mai Sui still didn't open the door to check. Instead, she went into the shower room.

She knew he loved cleanliness—especially after staying up all night, he always took a shower before sleeping, saying it washed away the greasy buildup from sleeplessness and let him rest fresh and clear.

In the bathroom, his clothes were piled up, unwashed. Mai Sui took off her coat, rolled up her sleeves, and skillfully filled a basin with water, squatting down to wash them.

Zhou Shihe had been watching her friend, following her into the bathroom, observing as the other worked. At one moment, she asked, "Do your uncle and aunt know about your situation?"

The "uncle and aunt" she meant were Mai Dong and his wife.

Mai Sui paused, her hands stilling. Then she resumed, pinching detergent onto his pants as she rubbed, saying, "They don't know."

Zhou Shihe asked, "Do you plan to keep hiding it forever?"

"Mm." Mai Sui admitted.

Zhou Shihe said, "What if one day you can't hide it anymore? What if it all comes out?"

In her view, Suisui was an only daughter, beautiful and well-educated—being Li Heng's mistress could never be a real solution. Not to mention others—even just Mai Dong and his wife would be impossible to explain to.

Mai Sui lowered her head and said softly, "I haven't thought about it."

Zhou Shihe's gaze lingered on her friend's forehead a moment, realizing this was genuine—her friend had truly never thought ahead, never considered how to burden him.

But she didn't urge again.

She had already urged twice before. Nothing should be pushed past three times.

She wouldn't urge a third time.

She also knew she couldn't. Not only because Li Heng might never let go—but Suisui herself was already lost in this feeling, beyond rescue.

After a year and a half together, she understood one truth: Li Heng was Suisui's sky—more important than her own life. If she truly lost Li Heng, Suisui would be nothing but a hollow shell, a walking corpse. What would be the point?

What meaning would there be in urging her friend to leave?

As her thoughts drifted, Mai Sui finished washing his coat and began washing his underwear alone.

Zhou Shihe froze, her gaze unconsciously falling to the front of the underwear—just as Sun Man had said, the indentation was deep and wide.

For an instant, Zhou Shihe's cheeks flushed slightly, then she silently slipped out of the bathroom.

Standing in the living room a moment, she walked straight to the study, gripped the doorknob, turned it gently—the door opened, and her eyes peered inside.

There, as she'd hoped, was the manuscript.

Was it Chapter Two?

She thought so, and raised her foot to step in.

But just as she lifted her right foot, she realized—she stared at the open manuscript on the desk, wrestled inside, and finally, reason overcame curiosity. She pulled her foot back.

She closed the door again, stood at the threshold for a few seconds, then turned to the sofa and picked up a newspaper Mai Sui had bought that morning.

Huh?

As soon as she opened the Xinmin Evening News, the front-page headline reported news about him.

Specifically, news about his pure music album.

The main headline read: "Legendary Musician Li Heng, Pride of China!"

The subheading: "Record-Breaking! Mr. Li's Pure Music Album Tops the Billboard Charts in the U. .!"

This article was much longer than usual for that section, rich in detail—not only highlighting the album's success overseas and on the UK music charts, but meticulously documenting every single ranking and milestone achieved on Billboard.

The article mentioned that Li Heng, a name simple in strokes but profound in meaning, had appeared on the November 25 issue of The New York Weekly.

Zhou Shihe read the article four times, each slower than the last. When she finished the fourth, she felt genuine joy on his behalf.

A pure music album reaching number one on the Billboard charts was already a major event in this era—not due to luck, but to undeniable musical genius and talent.

The entire article overflowed with praise; the editor made no secret of his admiration for Li Heng!

No, it was more than admiration—it was reverence, worship.

Those were the editor's exact words.

Zhou Shihe glanced toward the master bedroom—he was still snoring soundly, unaware the world outside had turned upside down for him.

She quickly flipped through more than ten other weighty newspapers. As expected, his name dominated them all today.

Domestic celebrities like Li Guyi and Zhu Fengbo publicly expressed their appreciation and respect for Li Heng in the papers.

Beyond mainland China, there was news from Hong Kong's Tam Wing-lin.

When interviewed by the media, Tam Wing-lin said without hesitation: "If Mr. Li comes to Hong Kong, I'll treat him to a lavish meal myself and personally serve him tea and water—he's incredible!"

Mai Sui came over, hung the laundry on the balcony, then sat down on the sofa.

Mai Sui asked, "What news are you reading that has you so absorbed?"

Zhou Shihe remained silent, simply handing over the newspaper. Clearly, she was still lost in the world of the article, not yet returned to reality.

Mai Sui spent a few minutes skimming the paper, then followed Zhou Shihe's path, finishing all ten-plus newspapers in one go.

Half an hour later, Mai Sui lifted her head and met her friend's gaze.

The two women stared at each other across the space, silent for a long time.

Finally, Zhou Shihe broke the quiet: "When you bought the paper this morning, didn't you notice the news?"

Mai Sui shook her head: "I was busy reviewing my hosting script—I didn't have time to look."

Zhou Shihe said gently, "He made the cover of The New York Weekly. They called him a 'legendary musician.'"

Mai Sui excitedly found the article, pointing: "Several papers mentioned it—I saw."

Zhou Shihe spoke calmly: "His fame overseas is already high. Once he travels abroad, the adoration will likely be even greater than here."

Mai Sui listened, half-understanding.

Zhou Shihe patiently added, "I have a cousin and his wife in France—they told me."

Mai Sui grew even happier: "I hope he'll be on the cover of The New York Weekly."

Zhou Shihe thought a moment: "He no longer represents just himself. There might be a chance."

Next, shaken by the news, the two women huddled together and flipped through the ten-plus newspapers again and again.

As the time slipped past to 2 p. ., Zhou Shihe reminded: "Suisui, you should head to the playground."

Mai Sui looked at her wristwatch, worried: "Oh, he still hasn't eaten. The food's gone cold."

Zhou Shihe said understandingly, "Go ahead. I'll go to the market and later bring Manning back for dinner."

Saying "dinner" was just a way of saying she wanted to treat him.

Because she still had the manuscript in the study on her mind.

Also, this time, by association with him, her and Yu Laoshi's reputations had indirectly benefited from the overseas success of his pure music album.

So Zhou Shihe wanted to thank him, to do something for him.

He had no lack of money or fame—he lacked nothing, except that he'd always taken pleasure in her cooking. So she'd follow his preference and cook him a grand meal in return.

Mai Sui asked, "Shall I come with you to the market to carry the groceries?"

Zhou Shihe smiled and shook her head. "No, I'll ride my bike."

The two women rose and went downstairs.

On the way out of Lushan Village, Mai Sui said, "He likes duck, winter bamboo shoots, eel, fish."

Zhou Shihe laughed. "I'll remember. I'll buy it all—tonight we'll watch your man eat alone."

Mai Sui blushed deeply, looping her arm through her friend's, staring at the cobblestones: "Shihe, I'm truly proud of him. I'm so happy."

"Mm." Zhou Shihe softly hummed.

Mai Sui asked, "What do you think his reaction will be when he wakes up and sees those papers, all the praise?"

Zhou Shihe thought a moment: "He'll definitely brag to us."

At that, the two women looked at each other, then burst into quiet laughter.

As they reached a fork in the road and prepared to part, Mai Sui asked, "Where will you cook today?"

Zhou Shihe didn't hesitate: "At your place. My kitchen stove hasn't been used in a while."

"Good," Mai Sui said. "I was just going to ask you to cook at Building 26 so he won't eat cold food when he wakes up." Regarding Zhou Shihe's "your place," Mai Sui, after a moment of shyness, spoke thus.

After parting, Mai Sui hurried toward the playground.

Zhou Shihe left the school gate, crossed the street, and arrived at the market.

Coincidentally, as she arrived, she saw Wei Quan and Wei Xiaozhu.

Wei Xiaozhu waved at her: "Shihe, are you here alone?"

Zhou Shihe parked her bicycle at a familiar vendor's stall: "They're all busy; only I'm free."

She walked over and greeted Wei Quan: "Teacher Wei, you're here to buy groceries too?"

Wei Quan nodded, sizing her up from head to toe, then couldn't help praising: "Shihe, your demeanor has improved so much—even someone my age finds it tempting to look at."

Zhou Shihe smiled faintly. "Thank you, Teacher."

Wei Quan asked: "Have you read today's newspaper?"

Zhou Shihe said: "I have."

Wei Quan curiously asked: "What was Li Heng's reaction to such a big achievement?"

Zhou Shihe said: "He was asleep."

Wei Quan was stunned, then after a moment realized: "So he was working on his new book last night."

Zhou Shihe said: "You knew about that too?"

Wei Quan immediately sold out her niece: "Xiaozhu often mentions you two—including your habits."

Zhou Shihe glanced at Wei Xiaozhu.

Wei Xiaozhu laughed in protest: "Don't listen to my aunt—she's nosy. She's always asking what Li Heng is doing, or how his relationship with Sui Sui is going."

Wei Quan didn't deny it. She scanned the surroundings, then lowered her voice: "Shihe, isn't it true that Teacher Yu Shuheng has fallen for Li Heng?"

Zhou Shihe looked at Wei Xiaozhu, unsure how to answer.

She instinctively wanted to deny it.

But she sensed that if someone could ask this, they might already have noticed something.

So until she understood the full picture, she wouldn't speak rashly.

Wei Xiaozhu said: "Auntie's just guessing. She says every time Li Heng goes out for fieldwork, Teacher Yu disappears too—she suspects they're together."

Wei Quan chimed in: "It's not entirely baseless. Many Fudan professors are whispering behind closed doors. In March, Li Heng didn't show up at school for over a month, and Teacher Yu missed the entire month's faculty meetings. In October, when Li Heng went to Aba, some noticed the same pattern."

Wei Quan added: "Li Heng is too famous, and Teacher Yu's background is too unusual. No matter how quietly they behave, countless eyes are watching them."

Zhou Shihe knew this was true, but she still didn't want to comment. She simply said: "Teacher Yu and Li Heng's high school English teacher are close friends. Since the semester began, his teacher asked her to look after him."

As expected, upon hearing this, Wei Quan wisely dropped the subject.

Like all the other teachers, Wei Quan only suspected—she didn't dare truly believe it. After all, a male teacher and a female student was one thing.

But a female teacher and a male student?

Hmm. Too fantastical. Too absurd.

Of course, that wasn't the main issue.

The real issue was: Li Heng already had Xiao Han as his girlfriend and was romantically involved with Mai Sui. If Teacher Yu truly had feelings for him, given her exceptional qualities and the Yu family's status, could she possibly tolerate Li Heng constantly doting on other women right under her nose?

Precisely because this dead end couldn't be resolved, all the teachers only whispered behind closed doors—none dared take it seriously.

Now, hearing Zhou Shihe's explanation, it suddenly seemed plausible.

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(End of chapter)