Chapter 82

Chapter 82, Confession. Zhou Jingze belongs to Xusui.”

An uncertain speculation gradually formed in her mind. Xusui held her phone, not even wearing a coat, and hurriedly ran downstairs. The wooden stairs in the small hotel creaked under her feet.

The call between them hadn’t ended, with the wind whistling on Zhou Jingze’s side. He took the cigarette from his mouth, chuckled lightly, and said in a low voice, “Why run? I’m right here.”

Pushing open the door, Xusui gasped for breath and immediately spotted the man standing not far away. He wore a black coat, his shoulders darkened by rainwater. He stood under a red billboard, his profile rugged, lazily biting a cigarette, smiling at her.

Often not thinking of him, but every time they met eyes, her heart fluttered. It was indeed surprising to suddenly see someone who was still in another city right in front of her.

Xusui ran up to the man, grabbed his sleeve, and asked, “When did you get here?”

Zhou Jingze extinguished his cigarette, lifted his hand and pinched her cheek, his voice low and teasing, “During times when a certain little girl isn’t happy.”

Only after stumbling upon Han Mei’s complaint about the flight’s forced landing did he realize they were still stranded at the airport. Zhou Jingze messaged Xu Sui for confirmation, receiving a brief reply in return.

Zhou Jingze guessed that his girl was unhappy.

So, he hurried over.

After Han Mei sent him the address, Zhou Jingze bought the next high-speed train ticket to Ningcheng.

Upon meeting Xu Sui, Zhou Jingze led her away, finding a new hotel for her. Later, when Xu Sui was away on a business trip in Shanghai for three days, Zhou Jingze set aside everything to accompany her for those three days.

Back in Beijing, Xu Sui finally got a break, taking a day off, sleeping in until mid-morning. She still didn’t let Zhou Jingze stay overnight, not wanting to dwell on those three days in Shanghai.

At half-past ten in the morning, Xu Sui woke up and quickly freshened up. She planned to order takeout, then work on her conference report at home and gather some medical case materials.

As Xu Sui reached for her phone, Zhou Jingze’s message arrived, short and to the point:

[Your keeper has arrived at the door.]

Setting down her phone, Xu Sui rushed barefoot to answer the door. Zhou Jingze stood there with breakfast in one hand and a hot coffee in the other.

“I was just about to order takeout,” Xu Sui said, dimples appearing on her cheeks.

Zhou Jingze glanced at her bare feet, then changed into his shoes. He promptly scooped her up and carried her to the couch.

“If you don’t wear shoes next time, I’ll break your legs,” Zhou Jingze half-joked, squatting to help her put on her shoes, his palm gripping her foot, eyes narrowed as he looked up at her. “It’ll be convenient. You won’t be able to run during your punishment.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Xu Sui glared at him, her cheeks flushing.

After Xu Sui finished breakfast, she settled into her study to work. Zhou Jingze cleared the table and fetched a can of soda from the fridge, about to open it.

“Zhou Jingze, can you come in and grab a book for me?” Xu Sui’s voice faintly echoed from the study.

Carrying a can of coke in his right hand, Zhou Jingze leisurely approached the study door. He glanced up to see Xu Sui struggling to reach the top shelf of her bookcase.

As she stretched, her tight beige sweater lifted, revealing her slender waist and prominent ribs, with a large tattoo visible.

Heliotrope&ZJZ

No matter how many times Zhou Jingze read that English phrase, his heart still fluttered.

“Aren’t you coming over?” Xu Sui turned her head, raising her eyebrows.

Zhou Jingze walked over, leaning against her, wrapping his arm around her waist, his palm against her ribs, cold and rough fingertips tracing the tattoo, slow and warm breath brushing her neck, teasing under the daylight.

Unconsciously, Xu Sui bent forward, her heart tightening, instinctively about to pull back. Seeing this, Zhou Jingze swiftly brought her close, his dark eyes filled with playfulness, his voice low and mild:

“If only you’d call me ‘husband,’ this book would already be in your hands.”

With a lift of his hand, Zhou Jingze effortlessly reached for the medical book Xu Sui mentioned. But as he turned around, distracted, his elbow knocked another book off the shelf.

With a “thud,” a thick poetry book fell nearby. The afternoon sun streamed in, pages rustling.

A Chinese language test paper slipped out, along with a small photo, landing on the ground.

This time, Xu Sui wasn’t as lucky as in college when she visited the infirmary. The photo, with a blue background, faced upwards, revealing her youthful secrets once again.

Xu Sui’s eyes narrowed, about to step forward.

But Zhou Jingze’s legs were longer; he took a step forward, picking up the test paper and photo. The winter sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting light on the photo.

The young man in the photo had short hair, single eyelids, high eyebrows, thin lips, his slightly long eyes revealing impatience.

Cold and unruly temperament.

The person in the photo was none other than Zhou Jingze.

Zhou Jingze squinted at the photo, unable to recall when it was taken, asking:

“Where is this from?”

“High school, top 100 list,” Xu Sui replied softly.

Looking at the spirited youth in the photo, Xu Sui couldn’t believe she had kept this picture for ten years.

While in Tianzhong High School, after secretly admiring him, Xu Sui began chasing after that figure. In the first half of her sophomore year, there was a slight rearrangement of seats in the class.

Zhou Jingze moved his desk directly to her group, and when Xu Sui heard the sound of the desk moving and caught sight of the black school bag hanging on the corner of the desk, her heart raced.

Finally, she didn’t have to hope for a change in groups every other week just to be closer to him.

Xu Sui was the group leader, responsible for collecting assignments. Her task after morning reading was to check who hadn’t submitted their work and remind them.

Several times, as Xu Sui counted the assignments, she hoped to see Zhou Jingze’s name on the list of those who hadn’t submitted, giving her an excuse to remind him and get closer.

Even though he was a good student like Zhou Jingze, he rarely missed an assignment. There was just that type of person who, even if they skipped evening self-study the night before to play games or go out to play ball, could still submit their work on time, consistently ranking first in the grade.

The only time the young master was lazy.

In the morning, the boys in the back row were all wailing. From their noisy conversation, Xu Sui learned that they had gone to a bar to stay up late watching the World Cup match and even bet on it.

The losers were in tears, claiming they would jump into the school’s artificial lake.

“Master Zhou, Lao Zhang said he’s going to jump into the lake. As someone who won, seeing him without pants, shouldn’t you comfort him a little?”

Zhou Jingze leaned against the backrest of the chair, looking lazy, absentmindedly spinning the pen in his hand. His tone was casual:
“Go ahead and jump. I’ll be responsible for fishing you out.”

Old Zhang cried louder, accusing, “You evil capitalist.”

Zhou Jingze arrogantly raised an eyebrow in response, then lazily lay his head on the table for a nap.

Xu Sui, carrying a stack of homework, made her way through the rowdy aisle towards the back. Her heart was pounding like a drum. She held onto her homework tightly, elbows pressing against the pages, causing them to deform slightly. Her voice quivered:
“You didn’t turn in your biology assignment.”

Her voice was soft, but he still heard it. He struggled to lift his head from his crossed arms, his voice slightly hoarse:
“Oops, forgot to do it.”

“Can I copy yours?”

Xu Sui hesitated for a second before realizing he was asking to borrow her homework. She raised her eyelashes:
“Uh, okay.”

Xu Sui hurriedly rummaged through 12 exercise books to find hers, causing one to fall to the ground. He stood up, a sharply defined hand reached out towards her, casting a shadow on her side.

He took the exercise book and a faint scent of smoke filled the air, then he moved away.

Xu Sui dared not look at him, her gaze falling on the male student beside her with his head bowed writing. She noticed the prominent spine protruding from his back and his narrow yet broad shoulders.

Zhou Jingze copied quickly. Finally, as he prepared to return the exercise book, he looked at her with a smirk:
“Didn’t expect a girl’s handwriting to be so messy; copying it was quite a hassle.”

With a loud “boom,” Xu Sui’s face grew hot. She quickly retrieved her exercise book and, amidst a long string of urgent bells, hastily handed her homework to the class representative.

She indeed liked writing in cursive, even though teachers said it would affect her grades. Xu Sui never took it to heart. As she returned to her seat, she silently resolved to practice her handwriting well this time, striving to earn his approval.

Even just a casual comment like “Your handwriting seems to have improved” would suffice.

That would be considered approval, right?

However, as Xu Sui improved her handwriting and even received praise from teachers, Zhou Jingze never missed a homework submission again.

Until one day, during Chinese class, the teacher had everyone exchange and grade quizzes. It seemed like fate when Xu Sui’s paper ended up in Zhou Jingze’s hands.

After class, when the papers were returned, Xu Sui couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the writing on hers. Zhou Jingze had left a cold note:
“Your handwriting has improved.”

At the bottom of the score was a grader’s signature: Zhou. Next to it was a red check mark that looked somewhat blurred. Xu Sui felt like that little dot, small but craving the sunlight.

It was like a reward from God, a piece of candy.

Xu Sui carefully treasured this “candy.”

People are like that; once they taste sweetness, they want more.

The school’s exam system was based on rankings, with the top 100 immediately updated on the school bulletin board.

Xu Sui had recently transferred and struggled to keep up with the curriculum. Her grades were unstable, but to be closer to Zhou Jingze, she buried herself in her studies, always the last to leave evening self-study and waking up early to study.

She was never particularly talented. Xu Sui knew that only through hard work could she go a little further.

During the routine afternoon exercise and with the evening sun beating down on them, drying their skin, Xu Sui struggled to memorize vocabulary while jogging. When she reached “one-sided love,” she paused and laughed self-deprecatingly.

She wondered if hard work really paid off.

And indeed, sometimes it did. During the final exams, Xu Sui jumped more than 80 places, suddenly ranking second in the entire grade. When the school announced the results, her classmates told her the news, and Xu Sui was stunned.

A boy from the back of the class went to disturb the still-sleeping Zhou Jingze, shaking his shoulders:
“Dude, you’re first again this time.”

“And?”

“Awesome,” his friend gave him a thumbs-up. “But the person behind you in academics got pushed down; second place has changed.”

“Oh, who?” His tone was indifferent and dismissive.

Xu Sui’s hand holding the pen trembled as she listened, trying to calculate the problem but unable to concentrate.

“Xu Sui, the quiet girl in our class,” his friend replied.

Xu Sui’s heart tightened as she turned away from them, holding her breath. She wanted to know Zhou Jingze’s evaluation of her, to know if he remembered her.

The boy’s face lifted from his arms, fingers rubbing his tired face, almost smiling, his voice hoarse:
“She’s good.”

These two words exploded like fireworks in Xu Sui’s ears, making her heart flutter with excitement, so much so that she was somewhat distracted throughout the entire day of classes. After evening self-study ended, people gradually left the classroom. Xu Sui walked out of the classroom and onto the school campus pathway. It was deserted around her, with only senior classmates from the third year walking side by side, pushing their bikes and discussing test answers.

Xu Sui stood quietly in front of the bulletin board, gazing at the name of the first-place student—Zhou Jingze—right next to her own name in second place. For some reason, a twisted sense of intimacy arose within her.

The moonlight was bright as she looked up at the photo of the young man on the bulletin board. Glancing around and finding no one nearby, she impulsively tore off the photo and hurriedly fled.

Consequently, the exam paper and the photo were both kept by her until now.

Zhou Jingze suddenly remembered the basketball game during their second year when Xu Sui had fainted. He had escorted her to the infirmary, and a photo had fallen out. Zhou Jingze picked it up but didn’t look at it; he just wanted to tease her when he saw how flustered she was.

“Is this someone very important to you?” Zhou Jingze looked at her with a half-smile.

Xu Sui nodded, her long eyelashes quivering. “Yes, very important.”

Now, it seemed that the very important person was him.

The reason Xu Sui had torn the photo back then was also very important—it was because Zhou Jingze’s name was written under the photo, right next to hers.

Now that Zhou Jingze knew everything, it seemed she couldn’t hide her feelings for him anymore.

Over the years, it seemed he was the only one who could make her heart flutter.

“The grass in the heart of the lake is deep; my heart has nowhere to hide.”

Zhou Jingze reached out and pinched her nose, looking at her. “Silly.”

Years later, Zhou Jingze stood in front of Xu Sui holding that photo and the exam paper. He took a pen from her hand and added two words carefully between Zhou Jingze and Xu Sui.

He showed the photo to Xu Sui. She looked up at it, and her heart started beating uncontrollably. Zhou Jingze lifted her chin, looking at her, and said solemnly, word by word:

“Do you understand? It’s not unrequited love.”

The two names, once written side by side on the faded blue-background photo, became somewhat blurry. Zhou Jingze added the words “is” and “your” above them. Read together, they formed:

Zhou Jingze is Xu Sui’s.

I am yours, always have been.