Chapter 3: That Person's Back

Two math classes passed without incident, followed by a languid Chinese lesson.

Lin Shu possessed a natural gift for languages. Even without much study, her Chinese and English scores ranked among the top. She seemed innately to know which words to fill in and what messages the texts conveyed. She could even sense the nobility or vulgarity of the authors.

After graduating, she worked as a translator, contributing to the translation of two foreign literature books that received favorable reviews. Later, she married Ji Xing Shen as she had hoped and gave up her career to focus on her family.

Once, during a quarrel, Lin Shu stubbornly declared she would go back to work.

Ji Xing Shen’s smile at that moment remained etched in her memory forever.

“AI can do translation now. It’s wise for you to give up sooner rather than later, or you’ll just be unemployed... You don’t really think your literature degree still holds any value, do you?”

Ji Xing Shen was right.

Shortly after graduating from university, AI emerged suddenly, and many of her former peers struggled. It wasn’t just translation; writing, painting, composing—human artistic creation was being replaced by AI.

People once believed technological progress would ease our burdens, giving us more time to enjoy life and create, but unexpectedly, it made life harder.

Ji Xing Shen worked in AI development.

This was his era.

But hers was gone.

Watching the man she loved trample on her worth with his achievements, Lin Shu felt something inside shatter, though at the time, she did not listen closely to that feeling.

She had once believed love was everything.

“Lin Shu...” the Chinese teacher tapped on her desk, “It’s your turn to read.”

The teacher invited everyone in the row to stand and read the text aloud. Lin Shu pulled herself away from her memories and read her line: “Circling the tree thrice, on which branch to lean?” A tremor ran through her heart. A tear slipped down, but she turned her head calmly and wiped it away.

The teacher paused, then patted her shoulder.

Lin Shu sat down.

The lesson continued.

She was in a science-focused class but was one of the few who chose a liberal arts major after the college entrance exam. Apart from her parents’ support, teachers had been skeptical. But with her family’s wealth, no one advised her from a career standpoint. When her translated books were published, her high school Chinese teacher even called to congratulate her.

Though her future seemed uncertain, her parents always encouraged her to pursue what she wanted. The only person who seemed to think she was worthless was Ji Xing Shen.

Her thoughts churned as the school day ended, and Lin Shu remained lost in thought at her desk.

Zhou Ya came over with a bucket, urging her to go home.

Lin Shu waved her off, “It’s Friday, and there’s no class tomorrow. Let’s finish cleaning up first before going back.”

Lin Shu picked up a broom willingly.

Zhou Ya sighed, helpless, “Alright, but take it easy.”

Lin Shu and Zhou Ya’s cleaning team worked diligently and quickly swept the classroom clean. She also wiped down the corner wall near her seat and sprayed some air freshener, banishing the lingering odors.

Zhou Ya went to take out the trash.

Lin Shu sat at her desk, waiting with her backpack on.

The sun was already low.

The noisy chatter faded away, leaving only the sporadic thuds from the basketball court.

Soon, Zhou Ya came back panting, telling Lin Shu to head home first. The homeroom teacher, Gang Ge, had caught her on the playground and drafted her to help grade papers in the office.

“Ah,” Lin Shu said, disappointed. “I was going to say we could go to Pizza Hut together.”

Zhou Ya laughed, “If you don’t leave soon, Gang Ge might draft you for duty too!”

Gang Ge was fine in most ways, but when it came to shirking work, he managed to get students to do it instead of himself.

Zhou Ya slung her backpack on and pinched Lin Shu’s cheek teasingly, “You shouldn’t invite people out for such expensive things so easily.”

Lin Shu nodded.

Zhou Ya squeezed her shoulder once more and then disappeared out the classroom door.

Lin Shu was indeed a bit oblivious in this regard.

She thought treating classmates to food would help her get along with them, but even when they ate her treats, they didn’t necessarily speak well of her—they mocked her for pretending to be rich, unlike Ji Xing Shen, who was truly wealthy.

In truth, those worth befriending never liked taking advantage of others. Like Zhou Ya, she never assumed Lin Shu’s treating was a given.

But when she was young, Lin Shu simply felt happy being surrounded by others.

How endearing, how pitiable.

After swinging her legs a bit and adjusting the loose sleeves of her uniform, Lin Shu jumped down from the desk.

The hallway was empty.

Her footsteps echoed off the stairs.

When she reached the second floor, she glanced back, wondering if the neighboring class had also cleared out.

If she remembered correctly, that person was always the last to leave.

She never knew what held him back. But in her memory, whenever he emerged, a few boys would be standing by the railing, joking and out of sorts, sometimes even smoking. He was always there—the only one bold enough to defy school rules by wearing earrings. That flash of gold was unforgettable.

Lin Shu stared at the golden steps for a moment, tightened her backpack straps, and continued down.

Leaving the teaching building, she saw a few elongated shadows cast by the setting sun.

Autumn had arrived. The days were hot, but evenings had grown cool.

The boys on the court had discarded their school jackets.

Wearing just T-shirts or tank tops, they didn’t seem to mind the cold; their physiques were enviably strong. She silently wished they could experience menstruation—after all, pads don’t get cramps.

In her heart, Lin Shu quietly complained about the absurdity of creation.

Suddenly, a dazzling flash caught her eye, and she stopped, squinting involuntarily.

Under the sinking sun, a tall boy leapt gracefully to shoot, his tank top clinging to his well-shaped young body. The hem fluttered in the breeze, revealing defined abs uncharacteristic of his age. His bones were still developing—a charming youthfulness. The ball swished through the net, and he smiled—a smile more brilliant than the gleam of his earring.

There was no vanity in that smile, only the pure joy of succeeding at looking cool, almost foolishly so.

Only someone untainted by knowledge could smile like that.

Xie Bu Chen.

Lin Shu whispered his name inwardly, took a few steps away, and smiled nervously.

She didn’t know what she was laughing at.

Perhaps it was the genuine relief of knowing he was still alive.

In her previous life, when the storm and floodwaters swept her away, she was terrified and hopeless for the first time in her life. The muddy river water choked her; she tried to cough, but each breath brought in more water. She struggled, calling Ji Xing Shen’s name, but it was Xie Bu Chen who jumped in and caught her from behind, telling her not to struggle.

They had never spoken before.

That day was the first—and last—time they spoke.

Stepping through the school gates, Lin Shu looked up.

She had done many reckless things, the most reckless being her seven-year crush on Ji Xing Shen and enduring ten loveless years of marriage. But she owed Ji Xing Shen nothing. If she were to owe anyone in this life, besides her parents for raising her, it would be Xie Bu Chen for saving her life.

The troublemaker’s grades and reputation were poor, but his heart was genuinely kind.

If she could, she wanted to help him.

In this life, Lin Shu would no longer drown for Ji Xing Shen, and Xie Bu Chen would not die saving her. Lin Shu would be well, and Xie Bu Chen would be well.

They would both be well.