Chapter 84: Deep Affection

Return Chapter: My Hell and Heaven
Chapter 84: Deep Affection

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The official start time for the anniversary celebration at Q City No. 2 High School was scheduled for Sunday afternoon, after classes. Before that, all students were required to stay in their classrooms for self-study.

When Qin Lou and Song Shu entered the teaching building, it was during the break between two self-study periods.

The hallways and staircases were bustling with activity. Boys and girls scattered in groups of twos and threes, chasing and joking around. The corridors echoed with laughter and chatter.

Having confirmed which class Song Shu’s homeroom teacher, Meng Qingjin, was currently teaching, Liu Yusheng led Qin Lou and Song Shu directly to the third floor of this building.

Students were always curious about strangers on campus who were clearly adults based on their attire—especially when those strangers included one or two individuals who looked far too young to be teachers. Whispers and discussions followed them almost the entire way.

“Wow, look over there—so handsome!”

“Oh my gosh, really! What level of looks is this? Could it be a celebrity invited for our school’s anniversary celebration?”

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“R’x kd zshl, oyyb…”

“Nssj yv vbl zyeu clpkel bkx; pbl’p ps clywvkqwz vss!”

“Gal vblu y nswrzl?”

“Gbbb, ds oyu! Pke R fwpv qyzz kd zshl sdzu vs byhl xu blyav casjld? Jwv vblu zssj ps yzkjl—nswze vblu cl pkczkdtp kdpvlye?”

“Yyucl! Ps usw vbkdj R nswze ypj vbyv zyeu qsa bla ElUbyv? Fbl zssjp yrrasynbyczl.”

“Ebu esd’v usw vau?”

“…”

At first, Qin Lou only listened absentmindedly. When it came to looks, he had always been the best-looking in any crowd—so much so that it bordered on being a curse. He was long accustomed to comments like these and was far too composed to react to the chatter of a group of teenage girls much younger than himself.

That was until he keenly caught the words “ask that lady for her WeChat.”

Like a large feline lying lazily on the ground but instantly alert to rustling sounds in its territory—especially when those sounds targeted the “prey” it instinctively guarded—Qin Lou immediately turned his head upon hearing those words. His sharp gaze shot toward the group of chattering girls who had just passed by.

The girls, who had been egging each other on to approach and ask for WeChat, were suddenly met with his fierce glare. Startled, they froze in place, looking bewildered.

One of the girls, standing at the front, seemed particularly timid and unused to such an intimidating stare. Unlike those close to Qin Lou who had long developed a sort of immunity, she couldn’t hold back for more than a few seconds before her eyes reddened with tears.

Noticing Qin Lou had stopped in his tracks, Song Shu sensed something was off. When she turned to look back, she found him standing on the bottom step of this floor’s staircase, staring toward the corridor.

Curious, Song Shu walked down the stairs to see what had caught his attention. Following his gaze, she spotted the group of innocent, now slightly pitiful, girls.

“Why are you looking at them?” Song Shu asked, puzzled, as she hadn’t overheard the earlier conversation.

Qin Lou’s face remained cold. “Someone just said they wanted to ask for your WeChat.”

“…And so?”

“I want to see if I can find out who it was.”

“…”

Song Shu was momentarily exasperated and amused.

The side staircase of the school building was narrow, so Song Shu stepped behind Qin Lou instead of standing beside him. She stood on a higher step and leaned slightly forward, raising her hand to wave twice in front of Qin Lou’s face.

As her hand moved down, Qin Lou’s gaze followed, his attention reluctantly pulled back to her.

Song Shu sighed and asked helplessly, “Are you regressing in age, Qin Lou?”

Qin Lou didn’t reply.

“Arguing with a group of teenage girls—aren’t you ashamed?”

This time, Qin Lou answered, surprisingly serious. “When it comes to you, my principle is to never underestimate or dismiss any rival, regardless of their age or gender.”

“…”

Song Shu was left speechless.

She could only look past Qin Lou, offering an apologetic smile to the frightened girls before pulling the “madman” away by his arm.

Faint snippets of conversation floated from the hallway behind them:

“Wah, that guy is so scary! What a waste of such good looks!”

“That girl, though her expression was neutral, seemed so gentle.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.”

“You guys should stop dreaming. They’re definitely a couple, and that’s why he was jealous. Plus, he looked so fierce but immediately followed her when she pulled him away.”

“It’s… kind of sweet.”

“Are you addicted to shipping couples? Even this?”

The rest of the chatter faded as they moved further away. But Qin Lou’s expression showed clear signs of brightening.

Meanwhile, Liu Yusheng, waiting at the third-floor staircase, had been glancing curiously down, wondering why they were taking so long. He finally saw a seemingly content Qin Lou being dragged up by the expressionless Song Shu.

“What happened?” Liu Yusheng asked curiously.

Song Shu began to consider how to phrase the incident so Qin Lou wouldn’t seem too childish. Before she could think of anything, Qin Lou, with a slight smile in his voice, said, “The students at No. 2 High School are much more sensible now than they used to be.”

Liu Yusheng blinked in confusion. “…?”

Song Shu: “…”

Unable to decipher Qin Lou’s cryptic comment, Liu Yusheng gave up and laughed it off, steering the conversation elsewhere. He gestured toward an office door at the opposite side of the hallway.

“That’s the office where Mr. Meng and two other teachers work. They’re all homeroom teachers and are supervising today’s self-study sessions. I asked a colleague to give Mr. Meng a call earlier, so he’s in there now. No one else is around. Shall I bring you both in?”

Qin Lou’s eyes flickered briefly. “No need. We’ll go in ourselves. This place is still familiar to me—the teaching building hasn’t changed much, not even the location of the tool room.”

“The tool room?” Liu Yusheng paused, instinctively turning to glance to the side.

Sure enough, there was a small tool room door nearby, typically left unlocked so students on cleaning duty could grab equipment as needed.

Coming back to himself, Liu Yusheng chuckled. “I’ve heard people say that President Qin had exceptional academic performance during his school days. Seeing this today, it’s clearly true. After all these years, you even remember details like the location of the tool room.”

“Details? Not at all.” Qin Lou lowered his gaze, smiling faintly. “The tool room is where… some very memorable things happened.”

“?”

Liu Yusheng was once again dumbfounded.

Was it his imagination, or did that statement sound increasingly odd no matter how he thought about it?

Song Shu, who had been holding back for a while, finally couldn’t suppress herself when she heard this. Taking advantage of Liu Yusheng’s momentary pause as he lowered his head in thought, she raised her eyes and glanced at Qin Lou.

Qin Lou chuckled softly, realizing he had pushed the “little clam” too far. Knowing it wouldn’t end well for him if he provoked her further, he spoke before Liu Yusheng could notice anything unusual:

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Liu. We’ll head in now. For the anniversary ceremony later, we’ll head over directly, so you don’t need to trouble yourself further.”

“Oh, Mr. Qin, you’re too polite.” Liu Yusheng waved it off. “It might indeed be inconvenient for me to stay here. Feel free to proceed, and I’ll wait for you at the assembly hall I mentioned earlier.”

“Alright.”

With that, the two parties bid farewell, and Liu Yusheng headed downstairs. Meanwhile, Song Shu and Qin Lou stopped in front of the office door.

Just as Qin Lou was about to knock, Song Shu grabbed his hand. “Are you sure you really want to go in?”

“We’ve come this far,” Qin Lou said with a low chuckle. “Or would you rather let your ‘mentor’ wait inside all afternoon? I could accept that outcome too.”

Song Shu sighed. “Your vindictiveness is off the charts, Qin Lou.”

Qin Lou smiled, his gaze turning cold. “That’s just who I am. And when it comes to anything involving you, my tolerance is about as wide as the eye of a needle.”

Song Shu still felt uneasy. “Fine, but let’s agree on one thing. You can go in, but don’t cause too much trouble.”

“What qualifies as too much trouble?”

“…”

Qin Lou’s smile grew wilder. “You know, a madman’s definition of ‘too much trouble’ might differ a lot from a normal person’s.”

Song Shu stared at him expressionlessly. “Then we’ll use the normal person’s definition.”

“But I’m not a normal person—I’m just a madman,” Qin Lou replied, feigning innocence. “How would I know what a normal person’s definition is?”

Song Shu: “…”

Just as Song Shu was about to give up trying to reason with him, Qin Lou seemed to have had his fun. He lowered his eyes, laughing softly.

“Alright, I get it. Even though I don’t know where a normal person’s line is, isn’t that why you’re here?”

Song Shu looked up at him.

Qin Lou hooked his fingers around her hand. “As long as you give me a look, I’ll stop—I’ve always only listened to you. You know that.”

“…”

Emotion flickered faintly in Song Shu’s eyes.

After a brief moment, she sighed with a wry smile. “Madman.” Her tone was both exasperated and deeply gentle.

She lowered her hand, no longer stopping him. Qin Lou raised his hand and knocked on the office door.

A voice from inside immediately responded, “Come in.”

Qin Lou pushed the door open and waited for Song Shu to step in before following her.

Inside, a middle-aged man sat at a desk. His face was utterly unremarkable, resembling any other high school teacher. Looking at his features, Song Shu could vaguely recall traces of past impressions.

Having been informed by a colleague that one of his former students would stop by to visit, Meng Qingjin was now trying hard to place which year this student belonged to.

Perhaps because Song Shu had been too quiet during her school days, Meng Qingjin only felt a vague sense of familiarity, like seeing a shadow through frosted glass—something he couldn’t quite grasp.

Standing up, he asked hesitantly, “Your name is…?”

“Song Shu,” she replied.

A voice answered in Song Shu’s stead.

Following the sound, Meng Qingjin looked up past Song Shu to see a strikingly familiar and handsome face appear in his line of sight.

Meng Qingjin froze in place.

If this face were slightly less chiseled and carried more of a youthful arrogance and sharpness, wouldn’t it be…

“I’m Qin Lou. Long time no see, Mr. Meng.”

Qin Lou smiled faintly and stopped where he stood.

“Q-Qin Lou??”

Meng Qingjin’s expression shifted dramatically. Q City Second High had produced its fair share of excellent students throughout its history, but none as impossible to sum up in a single word as Qin Lou.

Even today, teachers occasionally gathered and reminisced with a shake of their heads, marveling: Who could have imagined that the student who was such a rebellious troublemaker yet excelled academically would one day, in just a few short years, become a legendary name in the international financial world?

Likewise, the tales of Qin Lou’s time at school had continued to circulate among teachers and students, gaining a life of their own.

A genius and a madman—a description perhaps no group agreed with more than the teachers who had endured the year Qin Lou was a student at Q City Second High.

Meng Qingjin, however, had his own reasons for feeling even more affected by such memories.

His gaze shifted to the girl who had entered silently and had remained just as quiet. He smiled wryly.

“Now I remember, Song Shu. I should have remembered you.”

Song Shu lowered her gaze slightly. “Hello, Mr. Meng.”

Her softly spoken greeting, simple and understated, stirred old memories in Meng Qingjin with remarkable ease. The impression this girl had left on him was significant, after all. At that age, students as beautiful, academically outstanding, and quiet as she was were practically unheard of.

And to make matters more memorable, this girl had been inextricably linked with the school’s most notorious troublemaker.

Meng Qingjin could recall vividly how often he had called Song Shu to his office—not for disciplinary issues but to persuade her to “turn over a new leaf” and “come back to the light,” urging her to distance herself as much as possible from that obviously dangerous boy.

Regrettably, none of his attempts worked.

Meng Qingjin looked at Song Shu, then back at Qin Lou, and couldn’t help but smile, a mix of embarrassment and apology in his expression.

“So, you’ve come today to show me how my efforts not only failed but were completely misguided, is that it?”

Song Shu remained silent, her gaze lowered, standing motionless.

She didn’t agree with Qin Lou’s approach, but since he had made this choice, she would stand by him and treat it as her own.

“No. I came to thank you, Mr. Meng.”

A voice broke the stillness in the office.

Surprised, Song Shu lifted her gaze toward Qin Lou.

Meng Qingjin, even more taken aback, asked, “Thank me? Thank me for what?” He chuckled wryly, almost mockingly. “For judging others with bias and labeling my students without a second thought?”

Qin Lou didn’t smile as he replied, “I’m thanking you for wanting to protect her, Mr. Meng.”

Meng Qingjin was stunned.

Qin Lou said, “I was an unqualified student back then. I didn’t like the teachers, and they didn’t like me—that was fair. But Mr. Meng, you liked her and wanted to protect her. That alone cancels everything out. No matter what, I should thank you.”

Meng Qingjin was silent for a while before coming back to his senses. He shook his head with a wry smile. “You came here deliberately to make me feel ashamed, didn’t you? Honestly, it was well-known around school back then. I also knew that you seemed to like Song Shu quite a bit—at least, you listened to her. But how old were you both at the time? Kids are fickle; a small thing can separate them. Even if you liked her, it wouldn’t have lasted. That’s why I always thought, in the long run, it would be better for Song Shu to stay far away from a little troublemaker like you.”

After finishing, Meng Qingjin paused and then laughed. This time, his laughter carried a sense of relief and a touch of warmth.

“I was wrong, though—not wrong in trying to persuade, but wrong in not seeing things clearly. The two of you were different from other kids. Your resolve came early, and I shouldn’t have spoken about you like that in front of her. Thankfully, she didn’t listen to me.”

At these words, Song Shu couldn’t help but smile.

The earlier awkwardness and distance in the room melted away. The three chatted comfortably as teacher and students. Song Shu and Qin Lou sat down and spent a good amount of time catching up with their former teacher.

As the sun set and the bell for the final self-study session of the day rang, the two finally stood to leave.

Not wanting Meng Qingjin to see them out, Song Shu and Qin Lou said their goodbyes and stepped out of the office.
The door clicked shut.

With classes in session, the hallway was now empty, leaving only the shadows of Qin Lou and Song Shu. The golden glow of the setting sun streamed in through the windows, casting their long, intertwined silhouettes on the ground.

Perhaps out of unspoken understanding, neither moved. They stood quietly.

After a moment, Qin Lou broke the silence. “I heard it.”

Song Shu looked up at him, unsurprised by his sudden words. Her gaze carried a hint of exasperation but also a deep indulgence.

Qin Lou smiled at her, repeating words from a long-past memory, his voice low and deliberately unsettling.

“So, you told me to make friends because everyone told you that you should stay far away from me? You finally realized they were right, but agreeing with them only now—don’t you think it’s a little late?”

No matter how exasperated she felt, he was her madman, and she could only oblige.

“I didn’t agree with them.”

“But you know,” Qin Lou continued, “they weren’t wrong about one thing.”

He paused, his tone softening noticeably.

“You should’ve left a long time ago.”

Song Shu frowned—not at his words, but at the vivid memories suddenly flooding her mind. Things she thought were long buried resurfaced with startling clarity.

She lowered her gaze instinctively to her empty wrist, recalling the weight of his grip that day. After saying the only cruel thing he had ever directed at her, he had frozen for a few seconds before lowering his gaze with a mocking sneer.

Those eyes, bloodshot as if they could bleed, felt so close, as if it were only yesterday.

“…Who cares?”

He had been so reluctant but forced himself to let go and turn away.

She had watched his retreating back and couldn’t stop herself from calling out.

“Qin Lou.”

His steps faltered but quickly resumed.

“Qin Lou.”

He didn’t respond.

“Qin Lou.”

Still, he ignored her.

“Qin Lou!”

Finally, at her fourth call, his figure stopped abruptly.

He stiffly turned back.

Song Shu’s eyes trembled.

Looking at the young man in front of her, she suddenly saw the boy he had once been—the one who hid a soft, wounded heart behind a tough, menacing exterior, always exposing his most vulnerable side to her.

Her eyes misted. Her lashes fluttered briefly before lowering, hiding her small smile.

“I’m still here. I never left.”

Qin Lou’s emotions flickered in his eyes.

A few seconds later, he smiled, stepped forward, and pulled her into his arms.

Lowering his head, he kissed her gently on the lips.

“Even if the sky fell, I’d come to you the moment you called me a fourth time.”

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