He must be tired.
She pursed her lips, moved closer to him, and said softly, "Get up and eat something. Then you can sleep again."
A few strands of fragrant hair fell on his shoulder.
She knew his eating habits weren't regular, and he didn't have any dietary restrictions. When he was busy with work, he would just grab whatever, so his stomach wasn't in good shape.
That was why, whenever they were both at home, she would cook some stomach-soothing porridge or soup for him in the evening.
Yi Zhuo sat up, took a deep breath to clear his mind, and saw a bowl of steaming white congee in front of him.
The living room light had been adjusted to a warm, soft yellow, not harsh. The faint fragrance from her lingered in his nose, and his heart suddenly calmed.
This might be what essays often called "the quiet beauty of time."
He smiled at her, then picked up the bowl and began to drink the porridge slowly.
"I need to grade last week's students' sketch assignments, about two thousand pieces. You can go to bed first," she said as she stood up.
"So the student who always turned in homework last has become a teacher now."
He held his forehead and gently teased her.
Chang Xuyu's face reddened.
"What are you talking about..."
She didn't understand, didn't understand.
Then she quickened her pace toward the study, and "bang" slammed the door shut.
The man shook his head, chuckled softly a few times, and the white congee in his mouth was soft, sticky, and sweet, like sugar.
After washing the pot and bowl, he got up and walked to the study, planning to accompany her reading before going to bed together.
Chang Xuyu was very serious about her work. She was wearing glasses and only turned her head when he came in, then buried her head again.
"Are you starting to teach sophomores again?"
He placed a bottle of freshly squeezed juice in front of her, walked to the side, and sat down.
Chang Xuyu nodded.
Seeing her expression wasn't good, Yi Zhuo followed her gaze and caught a glimpse of her new students' sketch assignments...
He frowned, his mood a bit complicated.
They were truly ugly in every possible way.
The man coughed lightly, looked away, and said flatly, "Take a break for now. Rest a bit."
"I can't finish grading them, can't finish."
She shook her head and muttered to herself.
Yi Zhuo stared at those drawings for a while, collected himself, and silently gave a verdict: all ugly.
"I think you don't need to be so meticulous. These drawings aren't worth grading. They're too far from the level of the art exam, can't even make it to the second tier. It's better to give them all a uniform encouragement score and save yourself the trouble."
Chang Xuyu paused, turned her head, and laughed at him: "I know, but for them, this is just the beginning. In my heart, I naturally have a new set of criteria. Those who have talent and those who are hardworking—all can be seen in these drawings. That's the most important point of my grading. I can't let some hidden pearls be buried forever because of my negligence."
Since she was in this line of work and had become the teacher of dozens of students in this class, she had to be responsible and do her job well to support their dreams of college.
"My students are the best. I'm sure I can bring them out. Wait and see—next year, our class's undergraduate admission rate will definitely still be one hundred percent."
She winked at him, her fair cheeks tinged with two rosy clouds, her expression lively and playful.
Yi Zhong raised his eyebrows, looking at her almond-shaped eyes brimming with laughter, and silently curved his lips.
After so many years, she had forgotten so many things, but she was still a kind girl with her own ideas.
This might have been her dream all along. It suited her well, and he believed she would definitely succeed.
He opened a new page. The Japanese title read "がしんえいえん", which meant "My Heart Will Go On."
A light lit up in his eyes, and his Adam's apple moved.
My heart will go on.
"I know you're always serious about things. You treat these students with sincerity, and they won't let you down."
The man's voice was deep, carrying a gentle warmth like a spring breeze.
She responded, hoping so.
Around half past ten, Chang Xuyu finally finished grading and organizing all the drawings.
She stretched, and her eyes were so sleepy they were full of tears.
The man stood up and directly lifted her horizontally from the chair.
Suddenly airborne, she reacted and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
"What are you doing?" she asked warily.
"Carrying you back to sleep."
The man said it seriously.