Chapter 487: Have You Ever Thought You

Living room.

In early September, the sky still stayed dark late; the sun hung on the horizon, painting the clouds a soft orange-pink, like a canvas lightly brushed with watercolors.

Song Yao glared at Xu Xu Qingzhou for dumping the pot on her, furious—this guy clearly intended to make her think dirty thoughts.

So sleazy.

She really wanted to punch him into the wall.

Seeing Song Yao's sour expression, Xu Xu Qingzhou stopped teasing her and asked, "Feel like going out for a walk, getting some air?"

Song Yao glanced out the window and nodded softly, "Mm." Stuck in the office all day, the evening air seemed nice—perfect for a stroll.

Without delay, they put on their coats, swapped shoes, and stepped out.

The sun had sunk below the city's edge, slanting in from the southwest, casting long shadows of pedestrians along the Charles River—calm and serene.

Xu Xu Qingzhou and Song Yao walked hand in hand toward Harvard Bridge.

The riverbank teemed with people, tourists mingling with residents out for an evening stroll after work.

Song Yao stood by the river, took a deep breath, and felt much lighter. She turned her head to ask Xu Xu Qingzhou beside her, "Is the experiment going well?"

"No problems."

Xu Xu Qingzhou relaxed now, slouching lazily: "We've taken the first step of a ten-thousand-li journey, but the real challenges lie ahead—take it slow."

"Professor Xu, I'm your backup."

Xu Xu Qingzhou laughed. Song Song Xiaohua really had an obsession with supporting him financially. He grinned: "Fine—if the experiment fails, I'll go home and become a full-time husband: doing laundry, cooking, and raising kids."

Song Yao rolled her eyes, gazing at the shimmering lake far away, thinking: this guy's imagination is too rich—kids? Not even close yet.

Xu Xu Qingzhou leaned against the railing, playing the stone of the waiting wife again. A river breeze carrying the scent of algae blew past; Song Yao's loose strands fluttered, and she absentmindedly tucked them behind her ear—again.

So nice.

He turned, mimicking her posture, chin propped up, squinting into the distance, his thoughts drifting.

The second autumn since arriving in Boston.

Time really felt like it had been stolen.

Seeing Xu Xu Qingzhou lost in thought, Song Yao slowly drifted over, leaning into his arms. This beautiful scene only felt right when they were pressed together.

Time slipped away slowly; the sun sank below the horizon at a visible pace, and the temperature dropped steadily.

"Let's go back," Song Yao said, pulling away from Xu Xu Qingzhou's arms.

"Wait."

Xu Xu Qingzhou cupped Song Yao's face. She opened her large, sparkling eyes—and didn't swat his hand away like usual.

Song Song Xiaohua's hair was messier than before, perfectly disheveled—always making him want to pinch her cheeks again.

Song Yao blinked, motionless. Xu Xu Qingzhou really loved pinching her face; sometimes she even liked it too—because it let her pretend to be a delicate little girl, especially without makeup.

"I never imagined it would be like this."

Xu Xu Qingzhou took Song Yao's hand and turned back toward home, exhaling deeply. After a busy day, returning to cuddle with your partner—this was heaven.

"You never imagined it?" Song Yao couldn't believe it.

"Isn't this normal?"

Xu Xu Qingzhou found it even more unbelievable—who could have imagined that years later, he'd be holding hands with Song Yao, watching the sunset, strolling through a foreign land?

Song Yao's lips moved twice. She walked beside him for a while, then couldn't help asking: "What if you're always… in heat? How do you solve that?"

"."

This guy simply couldn't sit still—he'd always get himself off whenever they were hugging.

Yes, animals go into heat—cats, for example, typically during spring and autumn, or roughly every twenty days, with a week-long estrus period.

But Xu Xu Qingzhou seemed to be in heat every single day.

Would he just jack off if she weren't around?

Xu Xu Qingzhou's face darkened. He traced a light circle in her palm, retorting: "That's clearly you seducing me."

"Pfft~"

Song Yao scoffed. She'd only ever gone along with the flow—mainly because this guy was a pervert.

As dusk settled, the two young people returned home, just as they'd gone out for fresh air.

Xu Xu Qingzhou poured Song Yao a glass of water, then sat at his computer to read papers on superconducting thin films. He wasn't worried about Carson's team's experiment.

After all, first-time experimental data rarely looks good—just proceed step by step from here.

Song Yao reclined on the sofa, reviewing materials. There were few practical cases to draw from; high-frequency trading models were core secrets. Academia could only study and speculate through public market behavior—like signal generation, order execution logic, risk control parameters, etc.

Lately, she'd been executing the first step of modeling market microstructure: training an LSTM model on historical order flow patterns to predict short-term liquidity changes and optimize execution paths.

She'd also set a small goal: within this month, code a Mobile Corps Commander algorithm to detect iceberg orders and dynamically adjust order-splitting strategies to reduce market impact costs.

But after half an hour of reading, she put down her tablet to rest.

During her period, no need to push so hard—rest when tired.

Anyway,

Song Yao glanced at Xu Xu Qingzhou. With this guy around, she'd just exploit him later to do her grunt work.

Time ticked by, second by second.

10 p. m.

Xu Xu Qingzhou stretched, walked over, and pulled Song Yao's legs into his lap. Seeing she still looked listless, he asked, "Want me to massage you?"

Song Yao was chatting with Ding Ding Jiahui. She shifted slightly, lifting her legs to let him sit closer, resting her thighs on his lap.

Xu Xu Qingzhou massaged her lower abdomen. After a while, he suggested: "Why don't you hit me?"

"Are you crazy?"

Song Yao's typing hand froze. Her face twisted with complex emotion.

She had reason to suspect Xu Xu Qingzhou's perverted psychology had worsened—he was bored and just wanted her to beat him up.

Terrifying.

"Aren't you happier when you hit people?"

Xu Xu Qingzhou squeezed her hand lightly. Her palm was soft and delicate—but when she pinched, it actually hurt.

Song Yao narrowed her eyes, finally suppressing the urge to strike. She wouldn't satisfy this creep's perverted request—it'd make her look like a real violent person.

"Get off! I don't want your massage anymore!"

They lounged on the sofa for ten minutes before Xu Xu Qingzhou was kicked out by Song Yao.

Massaging the belly was one thing—but he kept moving higher. Deserved a punch.

Xu Xu Qingzhou chuckled, returning to his computer. Song Song Xiaohua's mood was better than this morning—she was recovering.

He planned to build several preliminary optimization models: first, construct a quadratic polynomial model to establish quantitative relationships between process parameters and thin-film properties like jc, guiding experimental design.

He also needed to build a kinetic model based on the data, to simulate thin-film growth and identify optimal experimental conditions.

Before starting the models, Xu Xu Qingzhou checked his email first.

His inbox was piled with over a dozen unread emails.

He skimmed them quickly—mostly scholars seeking mathematical collaboration. He wasted no time, rejecting each one.

(End of chapter)