Chapter 14 – Concern

In the following days, Ye Zhou didn’t rush into action; instead, he focused on healing his foot injury and returning to work at the restaurant. A mature man chasing someone knows how to proceed step by step, ensuring that work and romance don’t interfere with each other. Timing is crucial, especially when uncertain about the other person’s intentions. In such cases, it’s best to observe and create opportunities for meetings, gradually building presence in their life. If the other person doesn’t show aversion to your advances, you can proceed further, testing the waters slowly, much like cooking a frog in warm water.

Apart from being neighbors, Ye Zhou and Guan Heng didn’t have many chances to meet due to their different social circles. Their encounters were mostly brief pleasantries, lacking depth. It was clear that nothing would develop between them unless one took the initiative. Although pursuing someone may seem one-sided, the goal is to foster mutual understanding and communication.

Ye Zhou once heard a crude joke that to woo a girl, you must first find a connection, then try to get intimate. Though vulgar, the logic held true.

However, if Ye Zhou relied on their neighborly relationship to intrude frequently, it could easily backfire and come across as too lowbrow. To pursue someone as educated and intelligent as Guan Heng, simply being persistent wasn’t enough. Sincerity was key, and the approach had to be right.

Ye Zhou’s first move was to attend classes at the community college when he knew Guan Heng taught there twice a week. He would bring his own stool and listen attentively from the start to the end of each class, taking diligent notes. Community colleges, like regular universities, offered credits, but due to their open nature and high turnover, they didn’t discourage drop-in listeners.

Guan Heng was visibly surprised to see Ye Zhou in the classroom at the activity center, but he didn’t show it or comment. He continued teaching as usual, treating everyone equally. Ye Zhou didn’t mention his acquaintance with Guan Heng to others, quietly sitting in a corner of the classroom, appearing just like any other student seeking credits.

Most students attending community college classes were middle-aged or elderly, with only a few young people among them. Some had grown up poor and couldn’t afford education, finally fulfilling their dreams of learning later in life. Others had dropped out young and returned to earn degrees after starting families. Each had their reasons, but they all shared a common goal – to fill some of life’s regrets.

This was the reality of society, a side unseen in conventional schools, more vivid and real.

Among these students, Ye Zhou stood out not only for his youth but also his good looks. Having started working early and owning a restaurant, he’d encountered all sorts of people and knew how to interact effectively. Although he was targeting Guan Heng, he couldn’t admit this when asked; instead, he vaguely deflected the question, mentioning that he co-owned a nearby restaurant with friends, inviting everyone for meals and cleverly advertising his business. He had excellent interpersonal skills, sweet-talking even those old enough to be his parents or grandparents, calling them “big brother” or “sister” without hesitation.

The students were enthusiastic and eager to learn, despite their age affecting their vision, hearing, and comprehension. Guan Heng often had to repeat himself several times and explain concepts repeatedly. Ye Zhou would then step in to help, trying to minimize the number of times Guan Heng needed to speak. As a teacher, vocal health was crucial, especially considering Guan Heng’s daytime teaching commitments.

After noticing this, Ye Zhou researched various recipes and personally prepared soothing throat tea. He didn’t overdo it with his kindness, merely placing a thermos on the lecturer’s table before Guan Heng’s classes, along with a small note. He did so naturally, without fanfare, as if it were an afterthought, going unnoticed by others.

When Guan Heng arrived and saw the thermos, he glanced at Ye Zhou. Ye Zhou smiled at Guan Heng and then calmly prepared for class. Whether Guan Heng hesitated or not was unclear, but he ultimately accepted Ye Zhou’s gesture, using the thermos and returning it washed clean after drinking its contents.

From then on, the same thermos appeared on Guan Heng’s desk for every class.

Though Ye Zhou was clearly showing goodwill, he never brought it up himself. His kindness felt natural, not forced, like something he did regularly.

After class, Guan Heng would walk home with Ye Zhou, and they chatted casually on the way, unaffected by the subtle romantic tension. However, they began to share common topics. Ye Zhou could discuss his thoughts on the class, the students, or amusing incidents. He remained patient and unhurried, steadily increasing Guan Heng’s fondness for him.

Two weeks passed quickly. During a class, a middle-aged man who rushed to the lesson straight from work arrived late. He had fallen off his bike on the way, sustaining minor injuries – just cuts and bruises – but his knee was swollen.

The other students urged him to go home and rest, but he refused, insisting it was a minor injury and wanting to finish the class.

Young students often skipped classes for trivial reasons, but such behavior was unheard of here. Regardless of weather or unforeseen circumstances, as long as classes weren’t canceled, the room would always be full.

There were limited seats in the classroom, usually reserved for older students. Seeing the man standing during the lesson was inconvenient, Ye Zhou immediately gave up his stool without hesitation.

The middle-aged man was accustomed to standing during classes since he spent most of his workday seated. Given today’s special circumstances, he didn’t decline Ye Zhou’s offer, thanking him repeatedly.

Guan Heng merely glanced at Ye Zhou, said nothing, and resumed teaching.

But Ye Zhou felt, perhaps it was his imagination, that Guan Heng’s gaze fell upon him several times during the class. Once or twice might be coincidental, but three or four times was definitely not.

Initially perplexed, Ye Zhou followed Guan Heng’s gaze to his right calf and understood instantly. He had only recently removed his cast, and while walking normally wasn’t an issue, he still needed to be cautious. Ye Zhou wasn’t being reckless; he considered his condition before giving up his stool, believing two hours of standing wouldn’t cause problems. He was pleasantly surprised that Guan Heng noticed this detail.

Ye Zhou pretended everything was normal on the surface, secretly relishing Guan Heng’s occasional glances filled with concern. Giving up the stool was worth it.

After class, they walked home together as usual. Indeed, Guan Heng asked, “How’s your leg?”

“It’s fine,” Ye Zhou replied. He hadn’t been idle these past weeks, regularly massaging his leg. Now, he only felt a slight ache, no major issues. “Aren’t you teachers also standing for long periods during lessons? Compared to you, it’s nothing. As a student, all I have to do is listen, which is relatively easy.”

“That’s different; your foot injury has just healed.”

Ye Zhou sensed an opportunity and seized it. “Professor Guan, are you worried about me?”

His tone was lighthearted yet probing, filled with unhidden ambiguity. When he smiled like that, it was hard to resist.

Guan Heng looked at him and honestly replied, “Yes.”

Ye Zhou had anticipated this, but hearing Guan Heng’s admission still made his heart sing, rewarding his efforts. But it wasn’t enough; he could sense that Guan Heng’s feelings toward him were merely at the level of fondness, far from desiring a deeper relationship. Yet Ye Zhou wasn’t in a rush, actually enjoying the process, knowing he had more plans up his sleeve.

Then Guan Heng added, “Actually, you don’t need to come to these classes specifically. They’re just basics and won’t benefit you much.”

Ye Zhou was well aware of this, but he didn’t consider it a waste of time. Pursuing Guan Heng was one reason, but spending time with these passionate elders had left a profound impact. He began to understand why Guan Heng devoted time to these activities: “It’s not that there’s no benefit. Back when I was in school, I didn’t enjoy studying and my grades were average. I often wondered about the purpose of education, especially since much of what we learned wasn’t applicable to daily life. Even in math, I thought knowing how to calculate money was enough…”

Ye Zhou chuckled as he spoke, his handsome, sunny smile remaining bright under the night sky: “But it’s different here. I feel like I’m learning things beyond the books, a learning attitude…or perhaps an attitude toward life. Each of them has rich life experiences, which I find incredibly valuable. Professor Guan, don’t you think so too?”

Although Ye Zhou barely scraped through graduation, he had strong observational skills. Over the past two weeks, he realized that Guan Heng genuinely enjoyed teaching here. It wasn’t one-sided instruction but rather an exchange of knowledge, trading academic expertise for life experiences, enriching one’s perspective. There was no rule stating that highly educated individuals couldn’t learn from less educated ones; it was just that most people weren’t willing to do so. Guan Heng’s humility and willingness to lower his stance were exceptional qualities.

Guan Heng listened silently as Ye Zhou spoke, gazing at him intently. The night concealed his expression, but his eyes held a new light: “You’re right.”

Ye Zhou smiled, feeling satisfied that he had articulated his thoughts well, the joy of a student who was called upon by a teacher and answered correctly, a mix of fulfillment and embarrassment. More importantly, he hadn’t misunderstood; Guan Heng indeed shared his sentiments. He felt closer to him, sensing Guan Heng’s attitude softening.

Upon returning home, Ye Zhou immediately began contemplating his next move. With Guan Heng showing signs of wavering, it was time to strike while the iron was hot.