Summer in Your Name - 32

“Sheng Xia!”

She was still standing in place when someone called her name.

It was Xin Xiaohe, walking down the corridor, carrying the pole for ‘big windmill’. A few girls trailed behind her, all drenched in sweat.

“What are you doing just standing there?” Xin Xiaohe asked as she approached.

“Calling home,” Sheng Xia replied.

Xin Xiaohe handed the pole to a classmate and waited until the others left before asking, “What’s wrong? You okay? You don’t look so great.”

Was it that obvious?

Sheng Xia tightened her grip on her phone, then, struck by a sudden idea, asked, “Xiaohe, could I, um, temporarily store my dress and stuff in your dorm?”

Xin Xiaohe looked slightly surprised but didn’t pry. She nodded. “Of course! Wanna take it over now?”

Sheng Xia glanced at the time, it was already past eleven. “Sure, thanks.”

“Why so polite?” Xin Xiaohe teased, moving to sling an arm around Sheng Xia’s shoulder but stopping when she noticed her own sweat-soaked state. She grinned sheepishly. “Let’s go!”

They headed back to the classroom to get the boxes, but Sheng Xia’s seat was surrounded by a crowd.

To be precise, Zhang Shu’s seat was surrounded by a crowd. 

A group of boys was animatedly discussing the upcoming NBA regular season—who they were betting on, which team had changed coaches, which was losing steam, new rising stars, and how Chinese players might perform…

Xin Xiaohe jumped into the conversation with gusto, while Sheng Xia stood outside the circle, utterly lost. For the sake of bros, sisters get ditched?

Hou Junqi was the first to notice Sheng Xia. He smacked the boy occupying her seat. “Get up, the goddess is here.”

Everyone turned to look.

Zhang Shu glanced over too, meeting the girl’s wide, blinking eyes before quickly looking away.

When is she going to take off that makeup?

Her eyes were so big and watery, it looked like you could swim in them.

“Dude, you dare sit in the goddess’s seat? Tired of living?” someone jeered.

“My bad, my bad!”

“Forget betting on teams, how about we bet on which goddess wins the confession wall?”

Every time a big event wrapped up, the school’s confession wall app buzzed with activity. It wasn’t just a secret-sharing spot anymore; it was now turned into entertainment. The school's ‘top idols’ were often crowned there.

“I already saw a ton of posts about Sheng Xia!”

“What about Chen Mengyao?”

“Uh, she’s got a lot too…”

“Open it and count, quick!”

The group was in a frenzy, even parting to make a path for Sheng Xia. But sitting back down in the middle of all this, with everyone teasing her, felt impossible.

Plus, it would be just her and Zhang Shu in the middle, surrounded by a standing crowd. The scene felt awkward no matter how you looked at it…

Sheng Xia tapped Xin Xiaohe. “Xiaohe, ready to go?”

Xin Xiaohe clearly noticed Sheng Xia’s discomfort. “Oh, yeah, let’s go!”

Hou Junqi asked, “Where to?”

Xin Xiaohe shot back, “Girls’ dorm. You coming?”

Hou Junqi: “…Carry on.”

Sheng Xia bent down to pick up the boxes from the bookcase by her seat when an arm reached out. “Need help?”

She froze mid-motion.

After realizing her own little thoughts, his voice seemed to carry some magnetic pull, stirring her nerves.

He was so close that the scent of sun-warmed grass filled her senses.

Sheng Xia’s heart skipped a beat.

She grabbed the boxes and finally answered, “No, thanks.”

Zhang Shu frowned slightly. Her tone was the same as always, but something felt off.

Like, for instance, she didn't even glance at him.

On impulse, he spoke again, “Then how about we eat together later?”

Silence fell.

The noisy crowd exchanged glances.

Everyone knew Sheng Xia often ate with Zhang Shu and Hou Junqi at Zhang Shu’s relative’s place for lunch.

But what was with the electric crackle in the air?

Thump, thump, thump.

Sheng Xia heard her own heartbeat, loud and solitary in the quiet, like boiling alcohol.

Her only thought was to get out of there before anyone hears it.

Why was he suddenly making this ‘invitation’ in front of everyone? Hadn’t he heard the rumors?

Or maybe he had, and he was just—

Playing with her.

She heard a faint voice in her heart.

“No, I’m eating with Xiaohe in the cafeteria,” she replied, then turned and left first.

Xin Xiaohe hurried after her, confused. …Did we talk about that?

As the girls left the classroom, the group’s gossiping urge exploded, though no one dared start it outright. They just snickered, winking and nudging each other.

“Alright, break it up. Time to eat,” Zhang Shu said, standing and shooing them off.

“Hey, A-Shu, who’re you picking?” someone finally blurted out.

Zhang Shu was packing his bag. Hou Junqi expected the usual ‘boring’ brush-off, but instead, Zhang Shu said lightly: “Do I need to say? Yi Jianlian.”

“Who’s asking about Yi Jianlian?!”

Zhang Shu slung his bag over his shoulder, chuckling. “I’m out.”

“Lame!”

“Boo, no fun!”

Hou Junqi’s eyes lit up as if he’d cracked some code. He slapped the desk and jumped up, declaring to the disappointed crowd. “Don’t you get it? He’s picking his own people, idiots!” 

Then, grinning smugly, he followed Zhang Shu out.

---

After the opening ceremony, senior year students had little to do with the festivities. They returned to regular classes, but screams from the sports field echoed through, and groups of first- and second-year students constantly passed by their teaching building, shouting and laughing, creating a lively ruckus.

The most absurd thing was some juniors specifically came to Class 6 to catch a glimpse of Sheng Xia.

A few boys lounged boldly at the classroom door, peering in with a ‘as long as I’m not embarrassed, the embarrassed one is you’ attitude.

One of them spotted Sheng Xia and called out, “Hey, Senior, can I add you on QQ?”

Sheng Xia kept her head down, silent.

This kind of thing never happened at No. 2 High School. Are all the top students here so… lively (shameless)?

Hou Junqi stood up, blocking their view, hands on hips. “Didn’t you hear? Senior sister belongs to senior brother. Still daring to shout?”

The juniors just grinned, unfazed, and shot back. “Is she yours then senior?”

Hou Junqi faltered. “Well, no, obviously not.”

“Then what’s it to you? You’re not that ‘Wrestle, Pikachu’ guy, are you?”

“You brats!” Hou Junqi rolled up a book and chucked it at them. The juniors dodged, laughing, but refused to leave.

The class erupted in laughter.

“Sheng Xia, the teacher’s calling you.”

A pleasant male voice came from the back door of the classroom. Everyone turned.

It was Zhang Shu.

He’d just come from Old Wang’s office, his expression less than friendly.

For some reason, the juniors quieted down.

Hou Junqi blinked. Since when does A-Shu call Old Wang ‘teacher’?

“Uh? Oh.” Sheng Xia hesitated. Why’s the teacher looking for her? Did those rumors reach their ears?

She sighed, getting up nervously.

As she passed Zhang Shu, he leaned in and whispered, “The teacher didn’t call you. Meet me in the water room.”

Sheng Xia’s steps faltered.

What is he saying?

What is he doing?

 

Those juniors had just been making a scene, and now almost the whole class was watching her, yet he chose this moment to whisper to her.

So close…

Her ears burned. Sheng Xia didn’t have the mental space to gauge her classmates’ reactions. She hurried out of the classroom, practically jogging upstairs.

The classroom was filled with teasing looks.

Zhang Shu, stone-faced, grabbed his water bottle and then picked up Sheng Xia’s bottle from her desk. He walked out toward the water room, completely ignoring the curious, provocative stares from the juniors.

What is going on? 

Is he… getting water for her?

The juniors got the hint. So, the senior sister really belonged to the senior brother’s?

---

Sheng Xia went around from the second floor to the water room on the first.

It was empty. She stood there, dazed.

A slender hand waved in front of her face, followed by a teasing voice. “Overwhelmed by your overnight fame?”

Sheng Xia looked up. Zhang Shu stood before her, head tilted, one eyebrow raised. His eyes sparkling.

His eyes weren’t large, more narrow and sharp, but softened by the aegyo-sal under them, giving him a youthful charm. When he smiled, the right corner of his mouth tugged higher, a little roguish, effortlessly carefree.

Sheng Xia had never seen such a perfect blend of contrasts on one face.

Dynamic yet composed, commanding yet boyish.

He was Nuwa¹’s favorite creation.

(¹: A Chinese mythological goddess who created humans and mended the heavens, often associated with creation and beauty.)

“Not as used to it as you,” Sheng Xia replied. 

Her tone carried a rare hint of temper.

Zhang Shu raised a brow, studying her with an amused, probing gaze.

Up close, he noticed her eyelashes—long, dense, not quite black but a soft brown, and straight. No wonder her eyes shone so much with makeup, like they’d been amped up a hundred watts.

He’d heard straight lashes meant a big temper. So why wasn’t she like that? Or… was she just hiding it?

Leaning down slightly, he asked, “Are you… angry?”

Sheng Xia didn’t answer, her brows furrowed. Then she noticed the water bottle in his hand.

She looked up again. “Why’d you take my bottle?” 

Zhang Shu turned, opened the faucet, and filled her bottle in a few quick seconds. He held it up, chuckling. “This thing’s all looks, huh? Seems big but holds nothing.”

No wonder she’s always running out here between classes.

His topic jump threw her off, she answered instinctively, “It’s hollow for insulation.”

“Oh—” He dragged the sound, smirking as if he'd known all along.

Like he was saying, “What, you think I didn’t know?”

Sheng Xia realized he was teasing her. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a flustered reaction, but he’d just helped her out of that awkward situation, so she couldn’t just snap at him.

She let out a sigh through her nose, falling silent. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and before she could sort it out, a group of girls walked into the water room, chatting and laughing.

They froze upon seeing Zhang Shu and Sheng Xia, their eyes darting between them, hesitant to step inside.

The two were just standing there, yet the air around them felt… charged.

Sheng Xia snatched her bottle from Zhang Shu and hurried out, head down.

It felt like she was fleeing.

Zhang Shu paused, glanced at his now-empty hand, and laughed softly.

The girls exchanged looks, their eyes gleaming with intrigue.

---

Sheng Xia returned to the classroom. The juniors were gone. Her classmates, seeing her with the water bottle, shot her a knowing smile.

Ignoring them, she sat down, stared at the blackboard for a few seconds, then pulled out a notebook and read quietly.

If not for her slightly red ears, she’d seem utterly detached, lost in her own world, unaffected by the stares around her.

Hou Junqi sensed something off about her but couldn’t pinpoint what. When Zhang Shu returned, Hou Junqi stared at him, his face screaming, What’s going on?

Zhang Shu ignored him, propping his chin in his hand and openly staring at Sheng Xia.

She was buried in her reading notes, pages filled with neatly copied phrases, quotes, and poems.

What had she said before?

—“Reading poetry cools the summer heat.”

Is she… feeling hot?

Nanli had no autumn; it leapt from summer to winter overnight. Though it was technically fall, there wasn’t a hint of autumn color. November still felt like summer.

But the temperature wasn’t as brutal as August or September. An occasional cool breeze would blow.

So her ‘heat’ clearly wasn’t the weather’s fault.

It was his.

Had he gone too far with that ‘overnight fame’ joke?

Right then, she turned a page, scribbled something in the blank space, closed the notebook, and pulled out a textbook to prepare for class.

The bell rang. Zhang Shu reached into his desk for his book, his body tilting slightly toward Sheng Xia as he did. She flinched like a startled bird, pulling away from him.

Her elbow, in her haste, knocked her notebook to the floor.

Zhang Shu froze, confused.

What? Did he have some kind of plague she couldn’t get near?

Her whole body screamed ‘stay away’. Zhang Shu’s face darkened. Still leaning over, he picked up her notebook.

It had fallen open to the page she’d just written on. His eyes landed on the words.

Two bold lines filled the center, less like notes and more like a self-reminder:

Let idle gossip fall where they may, what harm are sharp tongues and blades?  

A heart of ice remains pure amidst dust and mud; I roam free, singing my own song.

---

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