Summer in Your Name - 69

Zhang Shu could already walk on his own and didn’t really need assistance.  

But lying down tugged at his abdomen, making him wince. Seeing this, Sheng Xia mirrored his grimace.

Sheng Xia said, “When you’re doing questions, doesn’t the wound hurt?”

Sitting for hours at a time—how had he endured it?  

Zhang Shu caught her expression and seemed to understand. Her sudden visit was about his grades.  

“No,” he answered honestly. “When I’m focused on the questions, I forget about it.”

She knew he’d give it his all once he showed up. “Your Chinese score only suffered because you wrote too slowly. I did the math—if you’d scored 120 in Chinese this time, the situation would’ve been much better. Don't worry too much…”

Zhang Shu reflexively asked, "How much better is 'much better'?” 

No matter how much better, compared to his past performance, it’d still be a letdown.

Before Sheng Xia could find the right words to comfort him, Zhang Shu spoke again: "Every stage has its own goals. Finishing the exam at all is a victory for this stage. Rankings are just a reference, they help you gauge where you stand, but fixating on them does nothing for improvement.”

Sheng Xia was moved by the resolve in his eyes and nodded in agreement.  

Zhang Shu studied her. "What about you? How were your grades?"  

Sheng Xia had done well this time, scoring over twenty points above the first-tier cutoff, maintaining her personal best. Strangely enough, despite feeling exhausted during the math exam, her score was surprisingly high.

"Pretty good," was all she said.  

"Looks like now I’m the one who should worry about not making it to Heyan," he joked.  

It was an offhand remark, but he hadn’t expected her to take it so seriously. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she gazed at him apologetically.    

He quickly backtracked. "It’s fine. I’ll be out of the hospital in two weeks. I know my limits.”  

Sheng Xia’s brow softened slightly, and she said earnestly, “If there’s anything you need help with, just tell me.”  

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized how presumptuous they sounded. His ‘emaciated camel’ was still bigger than her horse—wasn’t he still scoring better than her despite everything?  

Zhang Shu stroked his chin, pretending to think carefully. "Actually, there is something you can help me with."  

Sheng Xia: "Hmm?"  

"Shaving."  

Sheng Xia: "..."  

Shaving l?  

"Help me shave. It’s been three or four days since I last did it."  

"I—I don’t know how?" she stammered.  

"I’ll teach you."  

"..."  

A few minutes later, Sheng Xia stood by the bed, holding a small basin of water, utterly at a loss.  

"Put the basin on the bedside table. Wipe my face with a towel first, then apply the shaving foam, and just start shaving," Zhang Shu directed concisely.

Sheng Xia set the basin down, staring at the razor in her hand, confused—she’d clearly seen an electric razor in the bathroom. Wouldn’t that be easier? It could be operated one-handed, no bending over required.

"That, the electric one…" she ventured.  

Without missing a beat, Zhang Shu said, "That's not mine."    

No way. That thing buzzed like crazy, too noisy.

Sheng Xia: "Oh."  

She wrung the towel until it was half-dry, then hesitated on the next step. Should she just drape it over his face and wipe? Or focus on details first, like around his eyes, the mouth? Or maybe let him wipe himself?

After all, one of his hands was still perfectly functional.

As she wavered, Zhang Shu said, "How are you going to wipe from so far away? Are your arms that long?"  

The implication was clear: he wasn’t planning to do it himself.  

Sheng Xia leaned in. "Then… close your eyes," she demanded.  

Zhang Shu studied her face, now inches away, and marveled again at her flawless skin—pale and smooth, as if poreless.  

He didn’t know if he was bewitched, but he swore she carried a unique scent around her, unlike anything he'd ever smelled on anyone else. Back when they sat together, he’d caught faint traces of it, but it was never as distinct as now.

"No," he refused.  

Why would he close his eyes when chances like this were rare?

Sheng Xia noticed his eyelids lift slowly, his gaze tracing from her jaw, past her lips and nose, before settling into her eyes.  

Their eyes locked, an inexplicable tension hanging between them.  

Flustered, Sheng Xia shifted her gaze back to the towel and began carefully wiping his face without another word.    

Her touch was so gentle it felt like a tickle to Zhang Shu.

When she reached his lips, she carefully avoided the lip itself, her fingertips wrapped in the towel, tracing the outline of his mouth.  

Zhang Shu’s lips twitched into a sudden smile.

Startled by the unexpected movement, Sheng Xia paused, shot him a glance, then continued…

That brief pause seemed to heat the air around them.

Sheng Xia studied his faint stubble, her thoughts drifting.  

Why were men and women so different? Men grew beards and Adam’s apples; women didn’t. Women have—  

Stop.  

She set the towel aside and picked up the canister, which looked like a spray bottle. "Do I just… spray this?"  

“Yeah, put it wherever there’s stubble.”  

She squeezed a bit onto her hand, the hiss of the foam sounding jarringly loud. Or maybe it was her nerves making every sound feel amplified.

She applied it slowly to his face.

The moment their skin touched, both of them froze.

Zhang Shu’s body tensed, his slightly widened eyes burning with intensity. 

Sheng Xia felt like she’d touched a live wire, a jolt shooting through her arm, leaving it numb.  

Her hand jerked, and foam splattered onto Zhang Shu’s chest. Flustered, she grabbed the towel to wipe it off, then darted to the bathroom for a dry towel, wrapping it around his neck like a bib.

He looked like he was wearing a makeshift apron.

"Sorry, I…"  

"You’re doing great. No rush."  

"..."  

She’d meant to say she couldn’t do it and ask him to apply the foam himself.  

“It’s fine, just keep going,” he said, tilting his chin slightly to make it easier for her.

The gesture felt like an invitation.  

Steeling herself, Sheng Xia squeezed out more foam and started from his cheeks. Up close, she realized a guy’s stubble was surprisingly widespread—denser around the mouth, sparser on the sides, with a few stray hairs under the jaw.

She’d thought beards only grew around the lips.  

This time, she imagined his face as a cake base, the foam as frosting to spread evenly. The mental image made her movements steadier.  

Zhang Shu lowered his gaze, tracing her features over and over.

Under the light, her long lashes fluttered, casting soft shadows beneath her eyes.

She was serene, gentle.

So focused, carefully smoothing foam across his face.

The thought sent a wave of heat through his abdomen. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he looked away, unsettled.

Shaving felt like waging a war.

The buildup had been nerve-wracking, but once the actual shaving began, the tension eased. She just wanted to get it done.

The razor in her hand became a weapon of victory.

As the blade glided, clearing away foam to reveal clean skin, she found it oddly satisfying.  

"Does it hurt?"  

“Did I nick you?”

She checked in periodically.

“No pain.”

“Nope.”

He was fully cooperative, pursing his lips, tilting his chin, turning his face—utterly compliant.  

She finished smoothly, even wiping away residual foam with the towel without guidance...  

Then she gently held his face, inspecting it from both sides. So clean. A sense of accomplishment washed over her.  

A small, relieved smile escaped her face.  

Rosy lips, flawless skin, a pure smile—everything was right there in front of him. Zhang Shu felt the light flicker, as if an angel had descended.

A terribly clichéd thought, but it was his first.

He wanted to be closer.  

The urge flashed through his mind, too quick to process. His body acted first. Taking her leaning posture to his advantage, his hand reaching out to loosely encircle her waist.  

Sheng Xia froze, her eyes snapping up.  

He only held her lightly, not pulling her closer or making any further move.

Yet that cautious touch felt all the more ambiguous…  

She was still cradling his face, and his expression held a trace of disbelief and flustered uncertainty.

On the field that night, they’d shared a deeper embrace, yet that hadn’t felt half as heart-stopping as this casual touch.  

If that night was an outpouring of emotion, this touch was a conscious exploration in the clear light of day.

One lying down, the other leaning over.  

The position was far too intimate.

Sheng Xia felt her waist go numb.  

She lost all feeling in it.

She wanted to straighten up, but her body refused. Her mind and limbs were out of sync.  

Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?  

Knock knock. Two light taps, and the door swung open.  

Sheng Xia was standing too close to the bed, out of view from the small window.

The visitor hadn’t expected anyone else to be there and halted mid-step.  

Sheng Xia jerked upright, locking eyes with the stunned caregiver.  

Her mind replayed the moment. Just now, her position—it looked like she was about to kiss him!

No, no!

That’s not what happened!  

Sheng Xia practically fled the hospital. Zhang Shu called a taxi for her, his subtle, barely concealed amusement growing more apparent throughout.  

She was in a feverish daze the whole way, so she decided to skip class and called Wang Lianhua to pick her up early.

Back home, Sheng Xia studied Zhang Shu’s exam papers. She’d made copies beforehand. 

His Chinese exam was self-explanatory, messy handwriting and overly brief answers on reading questions were the main culprits for lost points.

English, aside from the essay, was all multiple-choice, and he’d breezed through.

Math was a mess—his paper was scribbled over chaotically. He probably hadn’t used scratch paper, finding it too troublesome with his limited mobility. The answer sheet wasn’t clean either; mistakes were crossed out in broad strokes without correction tape, and the final answers were crammed in tightly, barely legible.

The same went for the comprehensive science exam.  

Just looking at the papers, she could tell he’d struggled.  

She compiled all his mistakes, planning to record explanation videos for him later. 

At his current score level, there wasn’t much she could do. She just hoped to make studying a little easier for him.  

By the time she finished organizing, it was already past midnight. Sheng Xia couldn’t help recalling how he’d once sorted through past Affiliated High School's exam papers for her—so many sets, who knew how much effort that had taken?  

She silently cheered, both for him and herself: I'll make sure you can, A-Shu.  

Sheng Xia couldn’t visit the hospital often, so Hou Junqi became the courier, delivering recent exam papers to Zhang Shu every few days.  

When teachers explained the papers, Sheng Xia listened with intense focus, jotting down not just the teachers’ problem-solving approaches but even their tangential advice. Then, she sent her notes along with the recorded videos to Zhang Shu.  

If he had questions, he’d call via video or voice.

At first, Sheng Xia struggled to explain things well. To help him, she’d first clarify with teachers, rehearse the explanations in her head, and only then relay them to him.  

Lai Yilin praised her: “The way you ask questions is so targeted. At this rate, you might not even need the independent enrollment to get into a 985 university.”

Sheng Xia admitted she was just acting as Zhang Shu’s ‘mouthpiece’, noting that top students had unique ways of dissecting problems. 

Lai Yilin was surprised. “He doesn’t know these?”  

Sheng Xia: “Some he does, but he says they’re not fully clear.” 

Lai Yilin smiled thoughtfully. “I see. Well, keep being his mouthpiece, then.”  

On April 20th, Heqing University released its ‘Strong Foundation Program’ announcement, listing candidates shortlisted for assessment.  

For the Classical Chinese Literature major, only three students were to be admitted through this program, but only one made the assessment list.   

Nationwide, Sheng Xia was the only one.

As long as she scored above the first-tier cutoff in the college entrance exam and published the book before enrollment, her spot was guaranteed.  

Sheng Xia was so busy she lost track of time and hadn’t checked the announcement. She learned the news from her father.  

Sheng Mingfeng said, “Being the only one nationwide shows you’re exceptional in this field. But being the only one also means it’s a niche major. I looked into it—this program is new, and job prospects are uncertain. Even compared to general Chinese Literature, the outlook isn't promising.”  

Sheng Xia replied, “If it’s textual research, I think I can do it for my whole life."  

Sheng Mingfeng didn’t argue, only saying, “I’m keeping study-abroad options open for you. You can decide after the college entrance exam.”

Even though he stood by his stance, these concessions meant he was putting the decision completely into Sheng Xia's hands.  

Wang Lianhua was thrilled yet melancholic, murmuring, “It already feels like you’re leaving me.” 

She reminded Sheng Xia not to get distracted, to prepare for the exam as if the admission didn’t exist, and to aim for her best score.

Sheng Xia agreed.  

She sensed changes in her parents.

Wang Lianhua was less domineering; Sheng Mingfeng seemed to shift from gentle but firm to firm yet gentle.  

Has time smoothed over their fierce conflicts?

It didn't seem so.

They still clashed sharply. 

But they were listening to her now.

Really hearing her, considering her opinions.

She was no longer a lump of clay in their tug-of-war. 

Was it because she’d grown up?  

---  

The weather grew hotter, the sunset lingered later, and even the breeze carried a restless edge.

The summer-limited cucumber juice was back on sale. After dinner, Sheng Xia bought a cup, savoring it contentedly on her way back to the classroom.  

Usually, half an hour before evening study, the senior-year building stood in stark contrast to the junior-year ones. The former was silent, pens scratching furiously; the latter buzzed with laughter and chatter.    

But today, Class 6 was different. Students clustered in small groups, animatedly discussing something.    

When Sheng Xia walked in, all eyes turned to her.  

Li Shiyi pulled Sheng Xia to sit down and thrust a phone at her. “Look! Zhang Shu’s online roasting idiots!”

On the screen was a thread of screenshots—nine in total.

The blogger’s caption read: Can’t stop laughing. Saw this account going off in the comments on Xinfeng. Turns out it’s the man himself. @SHU_abcdef Dare to accept the title of ‘Nanli’s Roast King’?]  

‘Xinfeng’ was a social app developed by an Affiliated High School alumnus. It was even more popular than forums or Weibo among students.  

While posts were anonymous, comments showed usernames. Many used it to confess their feelings, earning it the nickname ‘Confession Wall’. 

The screenshots showcased a collection of recent comments from a user named ‘SHU_xxrmm’.

Anonymous Post: [Let’s be real, is Zhang Shu done for? This result is like picking up sesame seeds but losing a watermelon¹.]  

(¹: Chinese idiom meaning to focus on minor gains while losing something major.)

—SHU_xxrmm: Seriously, is Xinfeng done for? This post is like meddling in someone else’s business while munching on salty radishes². 

(²: Chinese idiom meaning to meddle in others’ affairs without understanding.) 

[With all his hype, he’ll debut as a celebrity. Who cares about being top-scorer? When’s he getting discharged? Bet he’ll make headlines again.]  

—SHU_xxrmm: He’s getting discharged next week. So concerned about your dad—planning to kowtow and pay respects morning and night?

[It’s over for him, no matter how smart he is, jumping from 300th place to top-scorer in just over a month is impossible.]  

[I think he’s got this. Zhang Shu’s forever the GOAT.]

[The one above’s a brainless Zhang Shu fangirl, huh? Still hyping him up in this state?]

—SHU_xxrmm: The one above’s a jealous moron, huh? Still barking in this state?

Anonymous Post: [Was Zhang Shu really stabbed by the rumor-monger above? How can they even post this? I’d be dying of guilt.]  

—SHU_xxrmm: Was Zhang Shu really stabbed saving that girl from his class? How can she even show her face? I’d be dying of guilt. 

[Yeah, didn’t his girlfriend get into a fight with two girls over this last week?. It was like an idol drama.] 

—SHU_xxrmm: Yeah, last week his girlfriend was reasoning with two rumor-spreading girls. It was like playing a lute to a cow³. 

(³: Chinese idiom meaning to waste effort on an unappreciative audience.)

[Nah, they mistook some girl at the bookstore for his girlfriend.]

—SHU_xxrmm: My girlfriend’s drop-dead gorgeous—how could there be so many look-alikes? I’d never mistake my girlfriend, thanks.

[His girlfriend is pretty, but does she bring bad luck or something?]  

—SHU_xxrmm: His girlfriend is pretty and brings her man luck.  

Anonymous Post: [Whoa, is Zhang Shu actually replying to those old posts?] 

—SHU_xxrmm: Yup, it’s Zhang Shu clapping back at those low-quality posts.  

……  

Sheng Xia scrolled through page after page, utterly astonished. 

He’d ignored all the posts confessing to him, but replied to almost every post mentioning ‘girlfriend’. 

From him, she finally learned what it meant to give an eye for an eye.  

But aren't his clapbacks a bit too smooth?

And wasn’t he a little too comfortable at calling her his girlfriend?

Also, what was with that username?

---

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