Chapter 4

Early the next morning, Ji Xiunian had barely arrived at the college when Fang Xun flagged her down.

“Teacher Ji, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Fang Xun lowered her voice. “Some students saw you and Dean Zhou outside the dance studio… and it didn’t look too friendly.”

Ji Xiunian: “These children must have too much free time.”

Yesterday Zhou Lang had said something inexplicable and walked off.

Afterward, students had been spreading word that the two of them had quarreled, saying her expression had been stormy when she returned to the classroom.

Fang Xun, a veteran on the gossip front lines—up on every celebrity scandal in the Entertainment Industry, a fixture on forums and message boards, always first in line for the drama; down to knowing that a professor in the neighboring college had fought with his wife and begotten a fat boy of nearly nine pounds—did not disappoint. Her gossip instincts blazed anew. “Teacher Ji, did you and Dean Zhou actually fight or not?”

At that meeting the other day, the two of them had clearly rubbed each other wrong.

Ji Xiunian patted her head. “That’s enough out of you, gossiping about me now. I’m off—I have an appointment with the Dean.”

Fang Xun rubbed her head, unwilling. “Oh.”

Fine. If she wouldn’t tell her, she’d observe for herself.

As she saw it, there was definitely something going on between those two.

Ji Xiunian knocked and entered. Hao Shuyou was watering the potted plant on his desk, smiling before he spoke. “Teacher Ji, come in.”

“Dean, for the graduation art exhibition, I could help handle some things.”

“Glad to have you. Teacher Fang Hui… he’s a good sort, just not the easiest to get along with.”

“He seems bad-tempered, but he’s actually quite reasonable. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back?”

Hao Shuyou stopped her. “Oh, right—Teacher Ji, did you know Zhou Lang before?”

Ji Xiunian paused. “…I suppose.”

“Are you close?”

“Not close.”

“We’re close.”

Two voices sounded at once as Zhou Lang pushed open the half-closed door. “Senior Martial Brother, Professor Ji and I knew each other before. Weren’t you asking which teacher should liaise for the college? I think she’s the perfect fit.”

Hao Shuyou laughed. “No wonder you said you didn’t mind sharing an office with Teacher Ji… Well, if you know each other, that simplifies things. Teacher Ji, would that be convenient for you?”

Ji Xiunian: “I’m sorry. It isn’t.”

Her voice was calm; her tone, firm.

Hao Shuyou was easygoing. “All right, no matter. Though this… I suppose I should blame my Little Junior Martial Sister for acting on a whim. That day, when she saw…”

“Senior Martial Brother,” Zhou Lang cut him off with a smile, “the meeting’s in ten minutes. Shouldn’t you head over?”

One look at her darting eyes and Hao Shuyou knew she was scheming something. “Fine, I’m going. You two talk. Remember to come along after.”

Ji Xiunian returned to the office for her notebook and, entering the meeting room, took her usual inconspicuous seat.

The meeting’s agenda was the Leheng Group donation proposal.

Teaching buildings on campus were severely strained. Constructing a new building would require approval through departments at both the university and college level—slow and drawn-out. Buying a building off campus raised questions of location and student travel safety.

At public gatherings like this, Ji Xiunian never liked to speak.

She listened to the others’ opinions, occasionally lifting her head, her peripheral vision drifting of its own accord toward Zhou Lang nearby… and found her silent too.

Just as Ji Xiunian moved to look away, the woman who had been studying the table with lowered eyes raised her head and, as if sensing it, met her gaze directly—then offered the faintest smile.

Her voice carried remarkably. “Professor Ji, what’s your view?”

Why was Professor Ji being called on again?

Fang Xun was taking minutes with the Dean’s assistant Cen Yao; hearing Ji Xiunian singled out once more, she was bewildered.

The other teachers froze too, then remembered… the rumors of bad blood, and how Zhou Lang had indeed shown Professor Ji no face that day in the auditorium.

Ji Xiunian’s lashes lowered. “Time is tight. Building on campus would take at least two years. I lean toward Option Two. One more point: this is a large sum, so a fund oversight committee should be established to ensure the money is used properly.”

Gao Qirui sneered. “Professor Ji, Leheng Group is a famous enterprise at home and abroad. True, some companies have used charitable donations for tax evasion in recent years—but Dean Zhou is a Ning University alumna and a Visiting Professor. Saying that… do you not trust Dean Zhou?”

The words were thick with innuendo, and combined with the rumors of discord, the air abruptly grew taut with drawn bows.

Meng Xiaoying, the teacher seated beside her, added her own barbed remark. “Professor Ji stands tall and sees far. Clearly she thinks a great deal.”

Several veiled, probing glances swung over. Ji Xiunian’s expression didn’t change. “A fund oversight committee is accountability to the college—and to Leheng Group. Director Gao’s imagination runs wide; there’s no need to over-interpret. I’m addressing the matter itself, not any person.”

Gao Qirui’s brow furrowed.

The rest knew full well that both of these women were at odds with Ji Xiunian, and all held their tongues, eyes sneaking toward the ever-silent Dean Zhou, waiting to see her reaction.

Regrettably, apart from calling on Ji Xiunian first, Zhou Lang’s expression remained placid, betraying nothing.

Hao Shuyou wanted to end the argument. “You’ve all made fair points. This is an important question; the college’s working group will evaluate it further.”

But Zhou Lang wouldn’t let him have his way. “It’s fine. If Professor Ji doesn’t trust me, then let Professor Ji chair the fund oversight committee.”

Ji Xiunian said nothing, as if the words hadn’t reached her.

Hao Shuyou stood. “All right, we’ll discuss it later.”

He was starting to get a headache… Could it be that Zhou Lang and Ji Xiunian really did have some old grudge?

And so she’d wanted to share an office with her, and wanted her handling the Leheng liaison.

Zhou Lang smiled and didn’t press further.

When the meeting ended, Zhou Lang took a phone call and left a little later than the rest. Within a few steps, she ran straight into Gao Qirui.

Gao Qirui smiled at her. “Dean Zhou, you know Professor Ji’s personality—she’s always spoken rather bluntly…”

Zhou Lang’s steps halted, a cold, searching gaze swinging over—and she vaguely recalled… Gao Qirui had been Ji Xiunian’s college roommate.

She despised nothing more than this breed of trouble-stirrer. “Director… Gao?”

Gao Qirui started. “Dean Zhou, just call me by my name.”

Zhou Lang’s smile grew ever kinder. “Director Gao, the college keeps you busy. Hard work, I’m sure. My affairs needn’t concern you.”

What did this woman think she was?

Inserting herself into matters between her and Ji Xiunian—hoping to use her hands to embarrass Ji Xiunian, to make her lose face.

Their affairs were no one else’s to touch.

Gao Qirui had been dishing out passive-aggressive barbs for ages; others maintained surface politeness, but Zhou Lang, as it happened, was not a polite person.

Gao Qirui managed to squeeze out a smile. “There is indeed a lot to do.”

Zhou Lang took in every micro-expression on her face, then turned and walked off, going after Ji Xiunian a short distance ahead.

Ji Xiunian was searching for her office keys when her elbow was caught from behind. “Professor Ji, you have a problem with me?”

Ji Xiunian stopped, trying to pull free of Zhou Lang’s grip. “I don’t.”

Zhou Lang didn’t let go, instead drawing her toward the windowsill at the corridor’s end. “Then Professor Ji doesn’t trust me?”

Ji Xiunian’s brows locked. “I don’t. You’re imagining things.”

Zhou Lang gazed at her, closing the distance inch by inch. “Professor Ji… I’m conducting official business, and yet you won’t cooperate at all.”

Ji Xiunian barred her arm against her leaning body. “Is this official business too?”

Zhou Lang caught her arm and sighed out a laugh. “Ji Xiunian.”

Ji Xiunian had been about to wrench free—but hearing her name spoken for the first time since their reunion, she froze.

She looked up straight into Zhou Lang’s face, near enough to touch.

She… had never properly looked at her as she was now.

This close—close enough to see the two fine lines beneath her eyes, to see that her dark pupils were as clear as ever, reflecting her own image so distinctly.

She knew she should shove her away, but her hands were pinned and her will beguiled; she blinked hard and could only turn her head aside in futility.

But the other woman’s movement stopped.

Then came the smiling words: “Director Gao, how’s the view from the keyhole?”

Ji Xiunian’s head snapped up, staring at the person a short distance away.

Zhou Lang released her hand and turned around, her smile brilliant and lovely. “What were you hoping to hear, or to see—or… to photograph?”

Gao Qirui’s fingers clenched tight around her phone as she forced out a smile. “You joke, Dean Zhou. I was just heading back to my office for some documents. Carry on, you two.”

Dean Zhou nodded. “Is that so? Then do take care, Director Gao.”

Gao Qirui turned away, and the smile vanished from her face in an instant.

So Zhou Lang had a bit of dirty money and spoke to her like she was giving orders… No matter. Those old lovers were reunited—who knew when sparks might fly. So what if the internet campaigned for same-sex marriage? In the real world, a university teacher outed at work… She refused to believe Ji Xiunian could stay at this school!

She gave a cold laugh.

The two of them had best keep their tails hidden. The moment she caught a whiff of anything, she had plenty of means.

Meanwhile, Zhou Lang watched from the window as Gao Qirui drove off. “This college roommate of yours—she’s not much of a person, is she?”

Ji Xiunian’s palms were sweating; she wiped them lightly on her hem. “Dean Zhou, please conduct yourself with more propriety in the future.”

Zhou Lang laughed. “Propriety? Sorry—’propriety’ doesn’t seem to be in my dictionary.”

Ji Xiunian’s face went cold, and she left, circling around her.

Zhou Lang didn’t stop her this time.

In the blink of an eye, it was Friday.

Ji Xiunian had spent the week busy choreographing for a student club, rarely coming to the college, and hadn’t run into Zhou Lang.

As for the liaison duties mentioned before—since she had made her unwillingness explicit, Hao Shuyou no longer pressed them on her.

She didn’t want to see Zhou Lang… The Zhou Lang of now felt like a stranger. Every word, every gesture seemed a mere whim, impossible to fathom.

At ten that night, Ji Xiunian finished up and returned to the college for documents. Passing the Dean’s office, she saw the light still on and heard Hao Shuyou on the phone.

“Zhou Lang, stop fooling around. Why must it be Teacher Ji and no one else? Everyone’s waiting on your word now.”

“Who I approach… I’ll give you an answer Monday. We haven’t settled which teacher is responsible yet…”

“You heartless girl, enjoying your Senior Martial Brother’s misfortune? You know I just arrived and can’t move people, and still you insist on digging this pit for me?”

Ji Xiunian felt a touch helpless.

She knew Zhou Lang—a true Eldest Miss; once willful, stubborn past moving, impervious to anyone.

She was tempted to help Hao Shuyou out, but she truly didn’t want much contact with Zhou Lang.

So she quietly walked on.

She collected her teaching materials from her office and went downstairs, coming upon Hao Shuyou standing by the window on a call, apparently persuading some teacher to take the responsibility.

He must have failed; he hung up resignedly and spotted Ji Xiunian. “Ah, Teacher Ji. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“Mm? Please go ahead.”

“I’ve reached that senior specialist I mentioned. Is your child’s health any better? Someday soon I’ll take you both over.”

“Really? Thank you so much—let me treat you to a meal.”

“No need, you’re too polite.”

“No, I mean it.”

Hao Shuyou was a bit helpless. “Professor Ji, I mean it too—you’re far too courteous.”

He had met Ji Xiunian at an academic conference, where he’d casually printed a document for her; recently transferred to Ning University, she had helped him out repeatedly.

Ji Xiunian smiled. “I’m not being polite.”

She was a person with strong boundaries—disliked meddling in others’ affairs, disliked troubling others, and above all hated owing favors. Bad treatment she could bear; but one measure of kindness from someone, and she strained to repay ten.

Hao Shuyou waved a hand. “Forget it, another day. Head home—it’s late.”

Ji Xiunian nodded, took a few steps, then stopped. “Aren’t you going home either?”

Hao Shuyou looked weary, yet his back stayed straight as green bamboo, his smile warm. “Still some work to finish. You go ahead.”

Ji Xiunian hesitated.

Hao Shuyou had labored over Anyang’s matter for a long time… she owed him a favor.

Knowing he was currently run off his feet over the Leheng Group matter, pulling late nights for a week straight, she couldn’t just stand by.

Consider it sharing his burden—and repaying the debt.

“Dean Hao…”

Hao Shuyou turned back, seeing her still there. “Mm? What is it?”

Ji Xiunian looked out at the thick night beyond the window and let out a soft breath. “The liaison with Dean Zhou… I’ll handle it. Leave this to me.”

Zhou Lang… was like someone who had calculated everything, dug the pit, and was waiting specifically for her to fall in.

And she had no choice but to fall.