At first, Jiang Fuyue’s hands hovered awkwardly in the air.
Then, little by little, they slowly lowered, and finally, she gently patted his head.
“Why are you still the same as before, you big crybaby?”
The man froze, released her, and looked up in disbelief. “What… did you call me?”
“A big crybaby.”
Boom—
His cheeks flushed scarlet.
“I—I’m a scientist now. You can’t call me that!”
“Being a scientist doesn’t mean you can’t also be a crybaby.” Her peach blossom eyes blinked innocently.
“…”
Everyone knew Professor Ming Yu was a man of few words—serious, cold, and stern. But they didn’t know that twenty years ago, when he was still a teenager, he was petty, easily brought to tears, proud, and willful.
Back then, Lou Mingyue called him “Little Crybaby.”
Now, twenty years have passed, and the “Little Crybaby” has become a “Big Crybaby.”
“You’re still so young and beautiful, but I’ve already grown old…” His eyes filled with a smile—bittersweet and helpless—before settling into a deep, unwavering gaze.
Blankly, through his glasses, his pupils didn’t shift, as if trying to etch her forever into memory.
Time cannot rot beauty, and years cannot erode love.
Jiang Fuyue raised her hand, brushing against the graying hair at his temples, her eyes stinging slightly. “It’s only been twenty years. Why do you have white hair already?”
Ming Yu looked at her with a smile: “I wished I could grow old faster.”
That way, I could go find you sooner.
“But now, I think staying young is better.”
Jiang Fuyue nodded: “Exactly. You’re not even fifty and already acting like some old fogey. What were you thinking?”
Ming Yu grew serious: “I won’t anymore.” I still want to be with you for a long, long time. To witness your brilliance, your radiant life.
Jiang Fuyue’s gaze swept to the wheelchair beneath him. Her lips pressed into a tight line. “What happened?”
“Nuclear explosion experiment. Got injured during a site inspection.”
He said it lightly, but it must have been a hundred times more dangerous than he let on.
“And your eyes…?”
“Severe radiation damage. Irreversible.”
Jiang Fuyue crouched down so their eyes were level. Through the glasses, she peered into his gray-blue, dim gaze. “Can you still see me clearly?”
Ming Yu nodded: “Yes.”
“Then tell me—what do I look like now?”
“Peach blossom eyes, skin just as fair as before. Your face has filled out a bit—looks healthier than it used to. Your nose is small, your lips are small too. Very pretty.”
Jiang Fuyue held the hand resting on his lap. His palm was damp with nervous sweat.
“You always sweat when you’re nervous.”
A trace of embarrassment flashed across Ming Yu’s face. “You caught me again…”
“Why are you nervous?”
“…Afraid you’d say you don’t recognize me.”
“Are you dumb?”
He smiled, “Can a dumb person become a scientist?”
Jiang Fuyue: “I think you’re dumb to the core!”
Still smiling, the man replied, “Then let me be dumb. I’ll agree to whatever you say.”
“You wrote that math test paper?”
Ming Yu didn’t deny it: “Mm.”
“To test me?”
“…Ahem.”
Jiang Fuyue twitched the corner of her mouth: “Did you know the average score for the grade was only 49?”
“Th-that low?”
“Otherwise? How many high schoolers could solve the problems you gave them?”
“But you solved them, and even got full marks.”
Jiang Fuyue: “…”
Now that they had reunited and cleared things up, it wouldn’t do to keep occupying the old principal’s office.
“You wait here for me a bit. When class ends, I’ll take you out for a meal, okay?”
Ming Yu: “Okay. Go take care of your class. I’ll wait here.”
As Jiang Fuyue left, the principal looked at her with intense curiosity, and Zhong Hao stared at her in disbelief.
“You two go on in. I’m heading back to class.”
Principal: “Y-you’re just leaving like that?”
Jiang Fuyue raised her wrist to check the time and reminded him, “Only two minutes until class starts.”
“Oh! Right, right, right! Go to class first. We’ll talk later—yes, after class!”
When he returned to the office in a daze, Ming Yu had already composed himself—cold, rigid, and as expressionless as ever.
Zhong Hao walked to the wheelchair and leaned in, asking in a low voice, “Professor, are you alright?”
Ming Yu waved his hand.
“So what are we doing now?”
“Staying here.”
“Huh?”
“Waiting for class to end.”
“…Oh.” Zhong Hao nodded, dazed and confused.
He had no idea why the professor was staying.
Traveling all the way to Linhuai and personally setting a math exam for a high school—that was already unbelievable.
He prayed nothing even crazier would happen next.
Amitabha!
Ming Yu looked up at Hu Yongwei. “Principal Hu, would it be alright if I stayed here a little longer?”
“O-of course it’s alright! We’re beyond honored to have you at No. 1 High! Truly!” He was so excited that he even started stammering.
Ming Yu’s lips curled slightly: “Sorry to trouble you.”
“Please don’t say that! Let me get you some tea—would red tea be alright?”
“That’s fine.”
Hu Yongwei immediately turned to make the tea.
Zhong Hao, standing to the side, was already stunned.
He stared at Ming Yu’s profile in shock, as if seeing something unimaginable.
Did Professor Ming just… smile?
He wasn’t dreaming, right? No hallucination?
That gentle curve on his lips—it was still there. It was real.
Dear heavens, has the world gone mad?
