After he sent the photo, it was as if it had sunk into the sea. There was no response for a long while.
No one knew how much time had passed.
Then the other side sent a voice message dozens of seconds long.
Zhang Yang casually converted it to text.
[No, bro... are you serious... you got Teacher Meng... you bastard...]
The long message contained emotions as turbulent as a roller coaster, twisting and turning through every rise and fall, peppered with all kinds of vulgarities to express his utterly unplaceable shock.
Zhang Yang could naturally understand Chen Zhuo's complicated emotions and shock.
After all, Chen Zhuo had been one of their classmates back then. They had shared those school days together, and who knew—perhaps he had once been one of Meng Baihan's admirers as well.
Messages continued pouring in, but Zhang Yang had already lost the desire to keep reading.
The last thing Chen Zhuo sent seemed to be an unwilling question.
[After dinner, you were only planning to take a casual walk, right? You had to be, right?]
Zhang Yang shook his head with a laugh, casually set down his phone, and turned back to enjoy dinner with Teacher Meng.
That night, they both drank a little.
Teacher Meng's cheeks were flushed from the wine. Resting her chin in her hands, she stared unblinkingly at Zhang Yang.
"Zhang Yang, where are we going tonight?"
"Home after dinner, obviously. Where else could we go?" Zhang Yang said with a grin, blinking at her.
"No..." Teacher Meng said with a soft, reproachful pout. "Your hotel is so big, but there's no room for me?"
As she spoke, she gently took Zhang Yang's hand.
"Can we not go back...?"
The unattainable girl of his youth, the Teacher Meng of today.
Holding