Summer in Your Name - 74

Sheng Xia was roused awake by the grumble of thunder.  

Outside, a thunderstorm raged, a stark contrast to the clear, starry sky the night before, that, for a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream.  

Her hand instinctively went to her neck, the cool metal under her fingertips confirming that last night was real.

He had appeared downstairs at her home, extended an invitation, and she had reached out, their fingers intertwining tightly.

Standing before the mirror, Sheng Xia traced the delicate flower pendant necklace. Its clean lines cradled a tiny crystal at its center.  

Worried he’d spent too much, Sheng Xia had asked, and Zhang Shu had brushed it off, saying it was cheap, probably just a rhinestone.

Sheng Xia only ever wore a watch, never jewelry, and had no particular interest in it. But she’d seen enough to know his taste wasn’t bad—not the ‘straight-guy cancer aesthetic¹’ Xin Xiaohe and her friends often complained about.  

(¹: A slang phrase mocking stereotypical male tastes perceived as tacky or unrefined.) 

He said she was like jasmine.

Was she?

Her gaze shifted to her reflection.

Starting today, this disheveled, unwashed jasmine in the mirror—the one who hadn’t even brushed her teeth yet— had a boyfriend.      

The thought made her blush, and she hurried to wash up.

At breakfast, she felt Wang Lianhua’s eyes on her, but her mother said nothing. Sheng Xia fidgeted before volunteering her plans: “Mom, I’m going to school this afternoon to estimate scores, then there’s a class dinner. I might be back late.”

Wang Lianhua had no objections. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll pick you up.”  

“Okay.”  

---  

When Sheng Xia arrived at the classroom, Xin Xiaohe sized her up, stroking her chin. “You’re actually wearing a necklace?”

Sheng Xia tensed, suddenly realizing why her mother had been staring.

She’d been so caught up in the moment she forgot to tuck it away.

The classroom was nearly full, but Zhang Shu hadn’t shown up yet.

Wang Wei, growing impatient, called to hurry him along.

Sheng Xia knew he was busy getting a passport—Zhang Sujin was planning a wedding in Fiji, and time was tight, so he had to expedite it.

Wang Wei hung up and announced, “No need to wait for him. Let’s start estimating.”

Affiliated High School’s score estimation process spanned three rounds: strict, lenient, with the final score averaged.  

Sheng Xia began with math, the subject she was most confident in. The number she calculated stunned her: 136  

Even accounting for minor deductions on steps, she was safely above 130.

This boosted her confidence, her science comprehensive estimated score also turned out surprisingly strong.

By the time she finished estimating her English, Sheng Xia felt a surreal certainty: she might have outperformed her expectations.

Though the mock cutoff line wasn’t out yet, after the first, strictest round, Sheng Xia was almost sure: Heping University, here I come.  

Because her first estimate was the strictest possible.  

---  

“Xiaxia, you totally aced it, didn’t you?” Xin Xiaohe squealed beside her.

Sheng Xia: "Ah, I’m not sure."  

“Your cheek muscles are practically climbing your cheekbones! Don’t tell me that’s not good news!”  

So this was how it felt to be struck by joy—utterly impossible to conceal.  

"How about you, Xiaohe?"  

Xiaohe frowned. "Hard to say."  

But from her demeanor, Sheng Xia could tell it wasn't bad.  

"You definitely did amazing!"    

"From your lips to the gods’ ears!"  

Yang Linyu weaved through half the classroom to reach them. "How’d it go?" he asked Xiaohe.  

"Not telling!"  

Yang Linyu’s face fell, though he managed a faint smile. "You’ve got this," he encouraged.  

Xin Xiaohe: “Got what?”

Yang Linyu: “Dongzhou University, your dream.”  

Xin Xiaohe, still focused on her third-round estimates, didn’t look up. "Who says my dream hasn’t changed?"    

Yang Linyu: "......"  

“Once you’re done, don’t forget to input your scores in the system. The school will simulate mock cutoffs based on these estimates, so be responsible—to yourselves and your classmates. Estimate carefully, no wild guesses or random entries,” Wang Wei reminded from the podium. 

The classroom buzzed as students compared scores, some still debating answers in stubborn disbelief. Amid the chaos, Zhang Shu finally arrived, fashionably late.  

He didn’t enter the classroom, just leaned against the window, quietly staring into the classroom. Or more specifically, staring at Sheng Xia sitting by the window. His lips curved slightly, but he said nothing, as if waiting for her to notice him.

Sheng Xia, engrossed in logging her scores, was oblivious to it.

“Enough already, quit eye-flirting in public…” Xin Xiaohe spotted Zhang Shu first. “We’re graduating, have some mercy on the rest of us."  

Everyone turned to look.

Sheng Xia glanced up and nearly bumped into his chin.

Zhang Shu reached out, ruffling her hair, then circled to the front door and entered.

The class erupted in teasing cheers.  

"Ooooh, looks like someone’s stopped taking Old Wang seriously now that we're graduating!"

Old Wang: "......"  

"You two... did it?" Xin Xiaohe whispered, suggestively tapping her index fingers together.  

Sheng Xia’s ears burned. Did what?  

Xin Xiaohe’s gesture was so vague—what did it mean? Were they a couple now? Had they kissed? Or… something else?

But she wasn’t about to ask, so she shot Xin Xiaohe a look and ignored the question.

"Wait, seriously?" Xin Xiaohe’s eyes flicked to Sheng Xia’s necklace, already spinning her own story, her voice hushed but excited. “What base are you at?”  

Sheng Xia: "......"  

Her expression was a mix of exasperation and innocence. Xin Xiaohe, frustrated, pressed, “Come on! Do what you gotta do! It’s not like it’s puppy love anymore! Don’t tell me you two haven’t even kissed yet?”  

"Estimates! Focus on score estimates!" Sheng Xia deflected weakly.

Xin Xiaohe shook her head, clicking her tongue. "Brother Shu can't do it.” 

Zhang Shu started estimating late but finished quickly. When others, including Old Wang, probed, he only said, “Logged it.”

Not a word more, his reticence leaving everyone guessing.

On Xinfeng, posts about score estimations were flooding the platform, with one about Zhang Shu floating at the top of the trending list.  

[Anyone from Class 6? How much did Zhang Shu estimate? Spill the tea!]  

1st Comment: [Curious +1]

2nd Comment: [Curious +2]

3rd Comment: [Curious +10086]

4th Comment: [Class 6 here, no clue. Your Brother Shu didn’t leak a single subject.]  

5th comment: [Which traitor from Class 6 wrote the comment upstairs? Brother Shu didn’t treat you well enough?]  

6th comment: [Did he bomb it? If he did well, wouldn’t he say something?]  

7th comment: [Not necessarily. Don’t big shots have their own quirk?]

8th comment: [Shouldn’t we just wish him high scores? This thread’s so gossipy.]  

9th Comment: [Don’t tell me you’re not curious. We all want our school to have a top scorer, but Zhang Shu's condition really seems shaky. Can’t we even discuss it?]  

10th comment: [Why’s everyone still obsessing over him? Is Affiliated High out that short on talent? I don’t get it. He’s just got looks going for him. He came from rural middle school, his foundation was shaky to begin with. He peeked in second year. Since third year, hasn’t he been consistently underwhelming?]  

The posts veered into dissecting Zhang Shu's past grades. 

They nitpicked down to which math question he’d gotten wrong in which exam, to ‘prove’ his weak foundations. The level of detail was nothing short of astounding.  

Class 6 was filled with outrage, and some fired back in the thread.

This time, Zhang Shu didn’t log into his flashy SHU_xxrmm account to clap back. He just glanced at the thread and chuckled. "Damn, even I don’t remember half of this."  

Those old scores? He’d long forgotten them.  

Class 6 defended him, but deep down, they weren’t sure either.  

On this day, by unspoken agreement, no one brought up Zhang Shu’s scores.

Sheng Xia didn’t plan to ask, though she was anxious and dying to know.

But no matter the future, no matter the scores, their hands were already tightly intertwined together.  

There was no doubt about it.  

Once estimations were done, everyone started packing up.

Zhang Shu had to leave early to help Zhang Sujin pick a wedding dress. 

Before going, he came to Sheng Xia’s side, crouching by her seat, tilting his head up and pinching her cheek. "Did well?"  

He was shamelessly affectionate; the onlookers were equally shameless in their staring.

Sheng Xia reminded herself to get used to it—but her expression still stiffened. She quickly deflected. "Are you coming to dinner later?"  

"Yeah. I’ll find you after I’m done."  

Sheng Xia nodded, correcting him, “You mean find us.”

"Mm. Find you."  

"......"  

If the day the College Entrance Exam ended was all about liberation, only now did the weight of parting truly settle in.  

Sheng Xia looked at the desks, once piled high with books, now clean and empty, stretching out like an open plain. A sudden melancholy washed over her.  

Third year—gone in the blink.  

The covered walkways had turned into a massive flea market.  

Underclassmen were picking through notebooks and practice books, marveling at how cheap and pristine some were, never wondering why they were still pristine.  

Never realizing the seniors might’ve bought these same books from seniors before them. 

Haggling filled the air. Feeling her things weren’t worth charging for, Sheng Xia left her box of books on the walkway for the underclassmen to take freely.  

Zhang Shu, unsurprisingly, had nothing to sell.

She, Xin Xiaohe, and a few others wandered the school, hitting every memorable spot, snapping group photos to make up for the rushed graduation shoot.

---

The teacher appreciation banquet was held at a restaurant near the school.  

When they arrived, they found the place practically taken over by Affiliated High School—each class claiming a private room. Walking down the hall, you could hear different versions of thank-you speeches.

Class 6 had booked a small banquet hall with five tables. Hou Junqi boldly claimed the main table, aside from the one reserved for teachers, and waved Sheng Xia and her friends over.

The table was filled with familiar faces.  

Hou Junqi, Qi Xiulei, Yang Linyu, and two of Yang Linyu’s roommates.  

Xin Xiaohe, Lanlan, and Xiaomai.  

With Sheng Xia and Zhang Shu, it made exactly ten people.  

When Zhang Shu walked in, he didn’t hesitate, heading straight for Sheng Xia and took the seat beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world, greeting everyone casually.

He didn't even ask if the seat was taken, as if the spot next to her had always meant to be his.  

Yang Linyu: "Brother Shu, tone down the PDA later. I wanna actually eat tonight, not get full on dog food before the dishes even arrive."  

Qi Xiulei: “Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

Sheng Xia was baffled. What PDA? He hadn’t even looked at her, he’d been talking to them the whole time!  

Lanlan: "No, I’m not seconding. Please, go ahead, show off all you want. I doubt I’ll get to witness such a perfect CP up close in college.”

Hou Junqi: “Feels like we’re at a wedding.”

“Hahaha, you’re so right!”

"Alright, alright, the emcee’s starting."  

Right as Xin Xiaohe said that, Wang Wei was on stage, testing the mic. “Hello, hello.”

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Their table erupted in laughter.  

"That was way too perfect."  

"I’m dead."  

Their table was the closest to the stage, and Sheng Xia and Zhang Shu just happened to be seated in the center seats, the scene was…  

Sheng Xia’s ears weren’t the only things burning now. She leaned back, trying to sink into her chair, her cheeks and neck flushed. If you didn’t know her, you’d think she was having an allergic reaction.

Zhang Shu propped an elbow on the table, turning to stare at her.

She was wearing the necklace he gave her—how did it suit her so perfectly?  

The thought made his fingers twitch, he reached out to pinch her cheek, but before he could, his hand was caught mid-air. Sheng Xia swatted him away, glaring. "Stop moving around!"  

She thought she looked furious. Zhang Shu thought she was adorable. 

"Alright, alright," he conceded, raising his brows in exaggerated compliance.  

Sheng Xia exhaled in relief. The dishes had started arriving, and Wang Wei was droning on with his speech, the same old clichés, even after graduation. Everyone ate, drank, and clapped on cue, giving him full respect.

Then, Sheng Xia’s hand, resting on her lap, was suddenly grabbed. She turned, glaring at him.

Zhang Shu’s eyes twinkled with a smile. He squeezed her hand, leaning closer.

Amid Wang Wei’s impassioned speech, a low voice whispered in her ear: “I miss you so much.”

Sheng Xia: …

He was literally right there! What was there to miss?!  

Just as abruptly, he let go, sat up straight, and started chatting with someone from another table who’d come to toast.

Sheng Xia blinked, dazed.  

Had she imagined that?

---

The guys’ cups were filled with real liquor, and some girls could hold their own, toasting round after round without flinching.  

The room was lively with clinking glasses. Sheng Xia, using juice instead of wine, joined Xin Xiaohe to toast a few teachers.

She moved alongside Xin Xiaohe, entirely unaware of the figure trailing behind her. 

Fu Jie rose to her feet, eyes glistening with emotion, looking at Sheng Xia but calling out, “Zhang Shu!”

Only then did Sheng Xia turn, nearly bumping his chest. Zhang Shu didn’t back away, just looked at her with a hint of helplessness, tapping her forehead and nudging her aside. “Listen to the teacher.”  

Fu Jie sighed dramatically. “You’re graduating, and your Sprite Teacher might need years to recover, ugh. When will I meet students like you again?”  

The name sounded familiar to Sheng Xia, and she suddenly remembered, on Weibo!  

“Super-strict Teacher Sprite,” Zhang Shu teased, naming the account username. “Super strict indeed.”

Fu Jie huffed, “I strictly order you, Zhang Shu, to cherish her.”

A hiccup escaped her mid-sentence, betraying her tipsy state. 

But she was still a teacher; stopping short of saying more.

Sheng Xia caught the implication, as did everyone nearby.  

Zhang Shu clinked his glass against Fu Jie’s. “Following the teacher's orders. I’ll finish mine, you take it easy.”  

Then he tilted his head back and downed it in one go.  

Sheng Xia also took a large gulp of her juice.

Naturally, they continue the next round of toasts as a pair—Sheng Xia in front, Zhang Shu right behind her, his frame towering over her. When his arm grew tired from holding his drink, he would slung it over her shoulders. To which Sheng Xia would shoot him a glare over her shoulder.  

Nearby, Lai Yilin whispered to Fu Jie:  

“How did Zhang Shu’s score estimates go?”  

“Teacher portal’s not open yet, can’t see.”

“Sheng Xia’s probably solid.”

“Who’d have thought she’d be the first to lock it in?”  

“That girl’s got quiet power, a late bloomer, but explosive in the end.”  

“Zhang Shu’s a force. Not even the College Entrance Exam can hold him back. Even if he underperforms, that kid’s future will be anything but ordinary.”  

“Students like him are rare. A pair like them? A fairy tale, Old Lai.”  

“Probably won’t happen again in this lifetime.”

“Perfect match.”  

“Match made in heaven.”  

---

With bellies full and spirits high, the revelry moved to round two: KTV.  

With graduation looming, everyone—even the teachers—let loose, throwing caution to the wind.  

The VIP room was huge, with areas for cards, dice, and singing, something for everyone.  

The boys huddled around poker tables while the girls dominated the mic. When Wang Wei selected his song, the room paused what they were doing to cheer him on. 

Everyone expected something like 'Wild Goose’ or ‘Love Song of the West Sea¹’, but he chose ‘Someone Like You’. 

(¹: Chinese folks songs.) 

"Holy shit, Adele? Old Wang’s full of surprises today!"  

Wang Wei ignored the commentary, singing along with the track.  

His pronunciation wasn’t flawless, but his tone and emotion were on point, nailing even the subtle hint of a Western affectation with uncanny precision.

It was eye-opening.

The whole class was stunned.  

In that moment, it dawned on them: Wang Wei was barely over thirty. A young man, really.  

Earlier, during dinner, they’d noticed Wang Wei ditched his usual formal look for sporty casual, finally looking his age. Even his ringtone had changed, no more ‘Moon Over the Lotus Pond’.  

Fu Jie remarked from the side, "Your teacher Wang sure put on quite the act to reassure parents they were leaving you in good hands!"    

And it was true—his school persona was exactly what parents wanted: experienced, reliable.

The revelation cast a brief hush over the boisterous room.  

Some of the girls had tears glistening in their eyes.    

Including Sheng Xia’s.  

She thought back to her first meeting with Wang Wei, their first ‘Brother Heart-to-Heart’, when he asked if she didn’t want to study abroad, when he signed her leave slip…

He would have many, many more students in the years to come.  

But for everyone in this room, he was their one and only senior-year homeroom teacher.

The song ended, and thunderous applause erupted.  

Wang Wei took off his glasses, wiped his eyes, and shouted into the mic, “Dear friends, happy graduation, may all your futures shine bright!"  

Friends.  

From that moment on, they were no longer just his students. They were his lifelong friends.

---  

Most teachers left early, and others gradually trickled out, but the energy in the private room never waned.  

Sheng Xia didn’t sing or play games. She simply sat and watched as they rolled dice.  

Zhang Shu was unstoppable at dice, it was almost like he had a sixth sense.  

After several consecutive defeats, Hou Junqi grew indignant. “Shu, move aside! Are you cheating? Let Little Sheng Xia roll!”  

Zhang Shu arched a brow, glanced at Sheng Xia, then tugged her hand, pulling her from the girl's side and settling her beside him. His arm slid naturally around her waist as he said to Hou Junqi, “If you lose again, two drinks per round.”  

Hou Junqi: “Fine, fine, no problem!”  

Qi Xiulei: “What, picking on a girl? Make it three drinks!”  

Hou Junqi: “Dude, do you think any girl taught by A-Shu would lose? Are you in your right mind?"  

Qi Xiulei: “Right, right, whatever! Let’s roll!”  

Amid their bickering, Sheng Xia felt the spot where his hand rested on her waist tingle as if electrified. Yet he seemed utterly unfazed, chatting and laughing with his friends like it was nothing.  

“Know how to play?” Zhang Shu turned to ask her.  

As he spoke, his fingers absently traced small circles against her waist—a casual, unconscious gesture to draw her attention.  

So natural.  

“No.” She was anything but natural!!  

“I’ll teach you. You’ll get it in one round. Just shake and roll.”

Sheng Xia gripped the dice cup. “What if I lose?”  

“Doesn’t matter. I haven’t lost yet anyway. I’m thirsty.”  

"Damn it," Hou Junqi couldn't take it anymore. "Stop showing off in front of your wife, just roll already!”  

Sheng Xia sat stiffly.  

In the end, she never quite grasped the rules, just followed his instructions—shake when he said shake, call out whatever number he told her to.

Somehow, Hou Junqi ended up downing several bottles, while Zhang Shu only drank one glass.  

They had won.  

Hou Junqi threw his hands up. “I’m done, need a break!”

Zhang Shu turned to her. “Fun?”  

Sheng Xia pressed her lips together. “It was alright.”  

He just laughed and pinched her chin.  

She realized he had so many of such little gestures! 

And how could he just… do them so naturally?

Meanwhile, her waist still felt stiff. 

He hadn’t let go all night.  

“Brother Shu, sing something! Haven’t heard you singing in ages.”  

Zhang Shu readily agreed, “Sure.”  

Then he turned to her: “What do you want to hear?”  

“Anything’s fine.”  

He finally let go of her waist, went to pick a song, then returned with the mic but didn’t sit, standing instead to sing.  

A ballad.  

‘If I Were Young and Promising’ 

“The TV keeps flickering, your contact’s still saved on my phone. All the kindness you showed me, I ruined with my own hands…”  

His voice in ballads was impossible to resist.  

People stopped to listen. Some glanced at Sheng Xia. Others pulled out their phones to record.  

Zhang Shu just sang, focused.  

“If I were young and promising, not shackled by insecurity,  

If I’d understood what truly precious,  

Those beautiful dreams I didn’t give you, I’ll carry that guilt forever.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Sheng Xia felt this song wasn’t just a random choice.  

The lyrics spoke of regret, yet the way he sang them—it was like a reminder to himself. Don’t live with regret. Be young and promising.  

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Zhang Shu reaching for her hand. Seeing her didn't react, he simply took it himself, he only held it, his eyes still fixed on the lyrics on the screen.  

He stood. She sat.  

He sang. She listened.  

Their hands were clasped.  

Surrounded by friends, under everyone’s gaze.    

For once, Sheng wasn’t nervous or scared.

They will be young and promising.  

The song ended, its wistful echo leaving everyone wistful.

“Ugh, why’d you ask him to sing? Now none of us dare follow that,” someone joked, shattering the silence. New music kicked in, and the room came alive again.

Zhang Shu flopped onto the couch, leaning back, looking tired. 

Sheng Xia also leaned back, wanting to ask when they'd leave.

Just as she settled, she felt a weight on her shoulder.  

His head rested there. She tilted her head slightly to look at him.

So close. Close enough to catch the faint scent of alcohol on his breathe.  

Noticing her gaze, he lifted his chin slightly, still resting on her shoulder, and looked straight at her.

Too close. She straightened her neck, putting a sliver of space between them.  

After a long moment, a warm breath grazed her neck as his voice, low and deep, murmured by her ear:  

“Sheng Xia. September. See you at Heyan.” 

---

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