Summer in Your Name - 93

During the summer break, neither Sheng Xia nor Zhang Shu returned to Nanli. They both had summer programs to attend for their guaranteed admission to graduate school, and them staying on at their respective universities for their master's was basically a sure thing.

Heqing University’s summer camp started two days earlier than Haiyan’s, held at a resort in the suburbs. It had been raining for days, and Zhang Shu, worried about Sheng Xia taking a cab alone, accompanied her there.

A torrential downpour hit the entire way. Just as they arrived at the resort, they received news that the upstream reservoir was releasing floodwaters, and a section of the road was now submerged.

With no way back to the city, Zhang Shu could only find a hotel nearby and wait for the roads to clear.

Sheng Xia’s camp hadn’t started yet, so she stayed with him there.

Outside, the wind howled fiercely. Inside, Zhang Shu held her close as they watched a movie.

Suddenly, Sheng Xia asked, “What if you can’t make it back for your summer camp?”

"Shouldn’t happen," Zhang Shu replied, unconcerned.

Sheng Xia stared at him. "But what if?"  

Zhang Shu lifted his gaze and, mimicking her tone, quoted a line of poetry: “Heed not the sound of rain striking the forest leaves, why not chant and stroll at ease?”

Even at a time like this, he remained calm and in high spirits.

“The road’s flooded, where are you going to stroll?”

“It’ll definitely clear up tomorrow. There are plenty of people more anxious about it than us."

"...Mm.”

Of course Sheng Xia knew the road wouldn’t stay flooded forever, but the ‘road’ she meant wasn’t this one.

What if, because of her, he got stuck here, stuck in the country? Wouldn’t she be the one flooding his path?

"I heard from Liao Jing that Cheng Zhuoyang is applying to MIT?”

Zhang Shu, focused on the movie, gave a casual “Mhm.”

Sheng Xia pressed further, "Is the U.S. really that much stronger in this field?"  

Zhang Shu, still casual, replied, “More than just 'much’."  

“What about you then?”

"Huh?" Zhang Shu was caught off guard, how had the conversation shifted to him?  

"Why aren’t you going?”

Zhang Shu lowered his gaze from the screen. Sheng Xia was nestled in his arms, looking up at him, adding to her question. “A-Shu, with your resume, why didn’t you go abroad for grad school?”

Sheng Xia had heard from Liao Jing that for Ivy League schools, Zhang Shu's resume was even more advantageous than Cheng Zhuoyang's.

Zhang Shu looked at her steadily for a few seconds, piecing together her emotions and the tangled threads of her thoughts. He paused the movie, hoisted her up by the waist, and settled her on his lap to face him.

"Maybe I’ll go for a year or so later, as an exchange student or on a research visit,” Zhang Shu said. “What did you hear? That I didn't apply because of you?"

Sheng Xia lowered her head. "No one said anything… I just guessed.”

"Good guess." He smiled as he said it, but Sheng Xia's face crumpled into a look of surprised dismay as she stared at him.

Even though she'd known it in her heart, she'd thought he'd be more tactful about it.

Zhang Shu pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Of course you’re part of the reason. If you didn’t weigh that much in my decisions, how could I ever qualify for legal status?"  

The words didn’t comfort her.  

"But you didn’t hold me back," he added. "Don’t get the wrong idea.”

"When it comes to AI, there’s no denying that the U.S. still holds absolute dominance…" His tone turned serious, holding her hand and absently stroking it. "But that's just academic research. In terms of practical application, China has the advantage. A larger population base means more scenarios to implement it in. I talked to you about this when I got back from that Stanford summer research program last year, didn't I?"

Sheng Xia nodded.

Truthfully, she only half-understood, but she loved listening to him talk about those strange, technical terms, just as he was curious about her world of poetry and songs.

When he came back from his summer research last year, she'd picked him up at the airport. On the way back, he was visibly excited, like an idealist whose beliefs had just been reaffirmed. As soon as they got in the taxi, he started telling her about self-driving cars. Passing by the financial district, he talked about how, in the next twenty years, personal credit would be entirely measured by big data, how missing a phone bill payment could affect your insurance premiums. Back at school, while picking up a package, he discussed the conditions and timeline for widespread adoption of smart warehousing…  

To her, these were the stuff of science fiction, but he said they’d soon become reality.

When he talked about these things, Zhang Shu was vibrant, pure, and radiant.

"Cheng Zhuoyang and I have different strengths. He wants to be a pioneer in technology, so he needs to be at the forefront of academia, pushing boundaries firsthand. I don’t have that obsession.”

If it weren't for her, Zhang Shu would naturally choose to go abroad, after all, staying close to the forefront of innovation was never a bad thing. But she was here, and he had more important things to do.

"Then what does A-Shu want to do?”

"Me?" Zhang Shu chuckled. "Learn just enough to understand, then bring it under my wing.”

"How cunning.”

"Gotta be precise with your words, great writer. This is called ‘specialization in one’s craft.’”

“Are you going to start a business?”

“Mhm.”

“Money-grubbing merchant.”

"Mhm. Gotta succeed first to have the money to grub…”

“Of course you will.”

Sheng Xia looped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, quietly listening to the rain outside the window. She murmured, "‘A bamboo cane and straw sandals are lighter than a horse. Who’s afraid? Anyway, I know you’ll become someone truly, truly extraordinary.”

Back in their third year of high school, when she was helping him revise his speech, she'd told him then: he could be useful to the country, to the world, something she might not achieve, but he certainly would. Back then, he had seemed almost superhuman to her. He barely studied, yet he could still come first. His future was bound to be extraordinary.

At that time, they hadn't been this close. He was on an unreachable pedestal as the city's top student. Now, he was holding her; she was in his arms, in his heart. In front of her, he could be bossy, childish, or endlessly nagging. No longer mysterious, no longer on a pedestal. He wasn't even first in his year anymore, or second, or third. It seemed like he'd fallen from grace.

Expecting someone to stay at the peak forever isn’t realistic. No one can stay on that pedestal forever. It was a truth Zhang Shu had known in high school, and Sheng Xia was beginning to understand it now.

A new stage always brings new rankings. One isn’t accountable to rankings, only to oneself, to the future. Finding your own path is what matters most.  

Even now, Sheng Xia firmly believed that the name Zhang Shu wouldn't just fade into obscurity. In the field he’d chosen to master, he would become someone extraordinary.

She nuzzled his shoulder, feeling it broader and sturdier than ever before.

“A bamboo cane and straw sandals are lighter than a horse. Who’s afraid… ” So what if I lean on a bamboo cane and tread in a straw sandal? It's lighter than riding any horse. 

Zhang Shu repeated the line after her, then suddenly smiled. He flipped her over, pinning her beneath him. "What kind of celestial being did I land myself with?"

Sheng Xia blinked. Why was everyone calling her that lately? What was that about? 

“A-Shu, what you’re doing is truly meaningful. The changes in our future lives might just bear your mark. As for me, I’m just a useless scholar.”

Zhang Shu’s gaze deepened, but his words weren’t exactly romantic. “Su Shi’s bold style really does come with a touch of affectation."  

“Hm?”

Zhang Shu continued, “This old poet’s lyrics are quite versatile, they fit anyone. ‘Within me, there is you¹.’”

(¹: It can be interpreted as you and I are inseparable from each other.) 

Sheng Xia caught on. He was calling himself bold and unrestrained, and her affected!

“Zhang! Shu!” The warm, intimate atmosphere shattered. Furious, she raised her foot to kick him, but as her leg bent, it slammed into his stomach.

“Ouch!” Zhang Shu grimaced in pain, clutching his stomach and collapsing to the side. 

Sheng Xia leaned closer, concerned. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“It hurts…” he groaned, his voice strained and restrained.

Panicked, Sheng Xia frowned and rubbed his stomach. “I didn’t push that hard, how did—”

Before she could finish, an arm hooked around her neck and pulled her down. Zhang Shu tilted his head, capturing her lips in a swift, sure kiss. The hand she'd been using to rub his stomach was guided elsewhere.

 

After a long, long kiss, Zhang Shu lay back, looking up at her, a smile playing on his lips.

How could a scholar be useless?

Money is easy to come by; a pure heart is hard to find.

Immortals are immortals precisely because they need do nothing, they exist solely as mortal delusions and objects of worship.

Zhang Shu: “Silly fairy. Who’s afraid?”

Sheng Xia: …

---

During graduation season, Sheng Xia’s vlog went viral.

She'd filmed a few snippets of graduation life and posted them on her short video platform. Heqing University's official account reposted them.

She captured the campus fruit shop: Winter’s gone, but the scent of sweet potatoes lingers; summer’s here, where do we find watermelons?

She captured the cramped, bustling copy shop, barely a few square meters: Not one sheet less, not one sheet more, the machine spins, two cents a score.

She also captured the sunset outside the library windows, the wildly growing creepers along the lecture hall walls, the academic couple strolling by the artificial lake, and lovers posing for graduation photos on the lawn.

Even the mountains of packed luggage piled under the dormitory buildings, ready to be shipped away by soon-to-be graduates…  

The footage was ordinary, the editing simple, yet it exploded in popularity.

People flooded her profile, binge-watching all her previous videos.

One was a behind-the-scenes look at Dorm 219's graduation photos. Commenters went wild over her roommates' looks.

Another showed Zhang Shu helping her move dorms.  

She didn't need to ship anything; she was just moving from the undergrad dorm building to the graduate one.

Zhang Shu, busy with studies and preparing to launch his startup, had already rented a place off-campus and wasn't planning to live in the dorms.

In the video, every time he moved a box, he'd ask, "Why won't you live with me?"

Sheng Xia thought the expression on his face each time was adorable. She even zoomed in for a close-up. His face was a mix of helplessness and resignation, yet he stood there patiently, letting her film him at point-blank range while her giggles rang through the entire clip.  

The comments were a unanimous chorus:  

[Just say yes!]  

[Move in with him! Please!]  

[If you won’t, I will!]  

The reason for not living with him was simple: "Not legal yet."

They were still students, if Wang Lianhua ever found out, she’d break her legs, and maybe Zhang Shu’s too. Too risky. No way, no way.

The three girls of 219 had a final meal together, then packed their bags and went toward their separate future. Fan Jingshu smoothly started her job at the TV station as an editorial trainee. Zhong Lujie, in the end, couldn't go against her parents, she took the civil service exam in her hometown, secured a stable position, and would return home to start work immediately after graduation. Liao Jing was accepted into law school and, like Sheng Xia, would remain in Heqing.

Their dorm hadn't had any dramatic stories, no intense conflicts, maybe not even overwhelmingly passionate feelings. Yet when the time came to say goodbye, they all dissolved into tears.

Sheng Xia was the last to leave. She said goodbye to the dorm auntie and walked out of Building 23. She felt like she'd reached the end of one voyage and was standing at the starting point of a new one.

And there, waiting for her outside the gate, was Zhang Shu, just as always.  

---

In grad school, Sheng Xia was still buried in reading notes. Her academic advisor's book lists seemed endless, and her first-year coursework was even more demanding than during her undergraduate days. On the rare evenings she had free time, she was tasked to draft speeches for Professor Tan.  

Last year, Professor Tan had been a consultant on a language-focused TV show. His erudite explanations and humorous personality made him an online sensation. His quotes were shared everywhere, and video sites had meme compilations of him. Now, TV shows constantly invited him on. He joked that he'd become an old internet celebrity in his old age. As his "last disciple," the vlogs Sheng Xia had previously filmed about him were dug up by netizens and edited into memes.  

Over the years, with a few viral moments along the way, Sheng Xia’s video channel had amassed hundreds of thousands of followers.

She maintained her posting rhythm, but Zhang Shu appeared on camera less and less, eventually reduced to just glimpses below the neckline. Fans teased in the comments that she’d grown stingy. 

Later, Zhang Shu stopped appearing altogether.

It wasn’t that Sheng Xia was being stingy. In her second year of grad school, Zhang Shu had left for Stanford on a year-long exchange program.  

Her first semester of second year had the lightest course load. And with Zhang Shu away, the entire city felt hollow.

He hadn't given up his rented apartment. Sheng Xia would stay there occasionally for a couple of days, cleaning up. Seeing the stacks and stacks of business plans and research reports in his study made her heart ache.

Starting a business was never easy. Transforming an idea into reality involved far more than just securing capital.  

On some rejected proposals, Zhang Shu’s dense annotations covered the pages. As Sheng Xia traced the words, she could almost see him hunched over his desk, scribbling late into the night. 

She missed him so much.

Before he left, she’d confidently said, "We'll both be so busy, a year will fly by.”  

Now, every day felt endless.

"Go on this show for me. Look at some other young people for a change, give your eyes a treat. Staring at my old face all day, no wonder you’re pining after that boyfriend of yours who looks like a celebrity." Professor Tan forwarded her an invitation email.  

It was a mainstream TV show promoting Hanzi², featuring celebrities and big names from the literary and academic worlds to explore the origins of Hanzi.

(²: Chinese characters)

An academic big name?

"Professor, I’m not sure I’m the right person for this. They invited you…”

"People are tired of seeing this old face of mine, no matter how they film me, it won’t spark any interest. You go, they’ll be thrilled.”

A young, pretty scholar, what a perfect hook.  

"Go for it. Your generation has such great opportunities and technology. If you can use it to promote culture, wouldn’t that be a truly meaningful contribution?"  

When Sheng Xia mentioned it to Zhang Shu, he also encouraged her. "You've been filming videos for so long, you shouldn't be afraid of the camera. Professor Tan knows his influence, big as it is, won't last forever. He's getting older. You're his hope."

Sheng Xia stopped hesitating and agreed. The production team even adjusted their plans and guest list because of her. She was paired with a newly popular young idol who was undeniably easy on the eyes. The moment their traditional-style promotional pictures were done, she sent them to Zhang Shu.  

He video-called her immediately. “This show is ridiculous. If they want to promote Chinese culture, then do just that, why force a pairing?”

Sheng Xia: “What pairing? He’s only nineteen!”

“You think you're so old? You don't look a day over sixteen to me."

Sheng Xia burst out laughing. “So jealous! You’re so sour, you’re getting confused. When I was sixteen, you didn’t even know me yet.”

Zhang Shu faltered, then grumbled pointlessly: "Just don’t go being the old cow eating young grass."  

Sheng Xia: …

“What about you? Met any blonde, blue-eyed beauties in your class?”

“No.”

“Any pretty Chinese classmates, then?”

“No.”

“Oh. How boring.”

“Not as thrilling as you filming with your little fresh meat, I'm sure.”

“…”

After the show's official account posted the promotional photos, netizens initially thought Sheng Xia was some newbie actress and accused the show of propping up a newcomer by pairing him with the idol. The idol's fans instantly swarmed the show's Weibo, then flooded onto Sheng Xia's page, accusing her of riding his coattails. Later, they realized she not only had a boyfriend but was also one of the show’s mentors, with credentials listing her as a classical Chinese scholar. By then, it was too late to apologize.

Netizens who followed cultural programs generally held prejudices against popular celebrities and began mocking the young star for trying to pair up with Sheng Xia, calling it social climbing. Some busybodies even dug up Sheng Xia's vlogs and discovered her boyfriend was a top scorer in the college entrance exams.

This led to Zhang Shu being dragged into the fray, with netizens pitting him against the young star: A "nine-year compulsory education fish” like you scheming to moon-landing-scam this power couple? Get real!  

In any case, before the show even aired, an online war of words had erupted.

Sheng Xia never expected that participating in a mainstream variety show would land her on the hot search list.  

"Honestly, the kid's nice, really polite. He just has too many fans, and some are bound to be irrational,” She tried to reassure him, afraid he might pull another stunt like back in high school, publicly clapping back at netizens under his real name.

He wouldn’t lose, but he was building a business now. He had to maintain a positive public image.  

Zhang Shu: “Already defending him, are we?"  

Long-distance relationships were tough. Sheng Xia sighed. Some people were like vinegar jars, fermenting all on their own at the slightest provocation.

"Should I apply for a Weibo verification that says ‘Zhang Shu’s Girlfriend’?”

"No way. At the very least, it’d have to be ‘Zhang Shu’s Wife.’”

Sheng Xia scoffed. “Pushing your luck!”

Zhang Shu chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “Oh? And how exactly am I pushing my luck right now? All ambition, no opportunity.”  

Sheng Xia: …

The two continued chatting idly about this and that. Just before they hung up, Zhang Shu suddenly called out, “Baby.”

“Hm?”

"If you do get verified, it should be for who you are. A scholar, a writer, or whatever you choose to be. You'll be Zhang Shu's wife, but your name won't be 'Zhang Shu's Wife.’ You’re Sheng Xia.”

---

As the show aired, Sheng Xia’s followers on her short-video platform soared past one million, her popularity climbing with each episode. She even earned herself a new nickname: Senior Sister

It started because the young idol mentioned how much he admired Heqing University but couldn't get in. So recording with a real Heqing ‘Senior Sister’ was an honor, and he was going to make the most of it, acting the part of the admiring junior student.

Whenever he hit a problem, he turned to Sheng Xia, making zero effort to uphold the typical ‘self-reliant genius' image. In every episode, no matter which team’s footage was being shown, you could hear his voice echoing in the background: “Senior! Senior!”

"Senior! Senior! This character has three pronunciations? What's the other one?”

"Senior! Senior! For the jiang in Jiang Jin Jiu, The Great Chinese Dictionary and The Cihai list different readings! Which one do I use?”

"Senior! Senior! Help! This character over here…”

"Senior! Senior! Time’s up, time’s up! Why are you so calm?!”

“Senior, save me!”

The show aired simultaneously on TV and online, and the streaming version’s bullet comments were also flooded with cries of "Senior! Senior!”

Whether it was orchestrated by the idol's agency or just organic buzz, one thing was certain: every episode featuring ‘Senior Sister’ Sheng Xia ended up on a trending topic. The idol, thanks to his humble, polite, and well-behaved image on the show, completely reversed the bad impression netizens had of him before it aired, and his popularity hit new heights. He even followed Sheng Xia on Weibo.

Sheng Xia's inbox was constantly flooded with messages from talent agencies, streaming platforms, and e-commerce sites. Some wanted to sign her as a talent, others wanted her to do promotional collaborations. At first, she was flustered, even overwhelmed. But with time, she grew indifferent, learning to simply ignore them and eventually resumed posting videos as usual.  

Unaffected by either favor or disfavor, untouched by praise or blame.  

---

Stanford's holiday schedule was different from China's. When his break came, Zhang Shu didn’t return to China. He stayed to conduct research and visit Cheng Zhuoyang at MIT.

Sheng Xia went back to Nanli alone for the winter break.

This time, there was no hiding it. Wang Lianhua had discovered all her social media accounts.

In the past, her online presence had been contained within niche circles, flaring up briefly before fizzling out. Middle-aged people like Wang Lianhua wouldn’t have noticed. But a televised program was different. Even if Wang Lianhua didn’t watch it herself, someone around her would.  

After dinner, Wang Lianhua sat on the sofa scrolling through Sheng Xia's videos. One particular one caught her attention, and suddenly, she turned up the phone volume to max—

"You should live with me."

“Why won’t you live with me?”

"Are you going to live with me or not?”

"No, you have to live with me.”

“Why won’t you live with me?!”

Sheng Xia, washing dishes at the sink, felt a chill crawl up her spine. She dragged out the task for a good ten minutes before finally turning around and walked right into Wang Lianhua's stern gaze.

“Did you do it?” 

“Huh?” Sheng Xia’s heart raced. What was Mom talking about? Do it?

Wang Lianhua enunciated each syllable: "Did. You. Live. Together?”

At that moment, Sheng Xia felt exactly like when she’d mistaken Zhang Shu had found out about the criminal law book, only to realize she’d just written his name wrong—first panic, suffocating dread, then dizzying relief.  

“No…”

Wang Lianhua’s voice sharpened: “Really not?”

“No!”

Wang Lianhua: “How far have you gone?”

Sheng Xia trembled. “Huh?”

“You haven’t done anything, and he’s that clingy, brazenly asking you to live with him? You think I was born yesterday?"  

“…”

“Speak!”

Waaah. What could she even say? Her Mom already knew everything, why ask her like this? She always forgot that her daughter was already in her second year of grad school. At this age, other parents might be pushing for marriage. How was she supposed to answer this? Help.

 

Wang Lianhua’s voice rose again. “Tell Zhang Shu to get back here and see me!”

---

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