Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Two evenings later, Xia Dai showed up at our door carrying a bag of lychees.

She was wearing a low-cut white dress, her makeup flawless, her hair still half-damp as it fell over her chest.

“Teacher Shen, Sister An, these lychees were sent from my hometown. I brought some over for you to try.”

I accepted them with a smile and, rather interested, peeled one and ate it.

“They really are sweet. But I prefer my lychees chilled, so I’ll have them after they’ve been in the fridge for a while. Thank you.”

I handed the bag to Shen Xiubai in passing.

He took it as naturally as could be, carried it into the kitchen, transferred the lychees into clean food-storage bags, divided them up, and placed them in the refrigerator one by one.

Xia Dai blinked, looking a little surprised.

“Teacher Shen is so accomplished. I never expected him to be this meticulous with housework!”

I smiled and slowly wiped the sticky juice from my fingers with a wet tissue.

Shen Xiubai was indeed excellent at housework.

Diligent, meticulous, organized.

Very much to my liking.

Shen Xiubai walked over and sat down on one side of the long sofa, picking up his phone to check it.

That spot was very close to the armchair where Xia Dai was sitting. Their toes were almost facing each other.

Xia Dai straightened her chest slightly, her eyes shimmering.

I tilted my head and looked at her with a smile.

“You came over today because you needed something, didn’t you?”

The corners of her lips curved, and she laughed.

“Everyone says Teacher An is refined and perceptive. Turns out it’s true! It’s like this-I’ve been getting interested in history lately, but I don’t have any foundation, and there are some parts I really can’t understand. Since I happen to have such an advantage being nearby, I was wondering if I could ask Teacher Shen for guidance from time to time?”

As she spoke, her gaze went straight to Shen Xiubai.

Shen Xiubai seemed focused on his phone and did not answer right away.

Xia Dai lightly bit her lip.

Shen Xiubai had top-tier academic ability, but he was also proud to the bone. After publishing two well-received historical works, he had once been invited to several banquets by certain bosses fishing for reputation.

He came back deeply displeased. From then on, whenever anyone mentioned seeking his advice, he would first say he was “allergic to stupidity,” with no regard for whether the other person could save face.

At that moment, Shen Xiubai slowly lifted his gaze from his phone, gave Xia Dai a bland look, and said without a ripple in his expression, “History is a vast and profound discipline. It requires persistence and patience. Can you manage that?”

Xia Dai lifted her chin and said sweetly, “Of course. I definitely won’t disappoint you, Teacher Shen!”

I leaned back and quietly watched the scene before me.

Xia Dai’s damp hair hung down, soaking the front of her white dress and making it somewhat transparent. The high curves beneath were faintly visible.

She seemed completely unaware, leaning in with eager enthusiasm to ask for a reading list.

Shen Xiubai rattled off titles with ease. For every book he named, Xia Dai lowered her head and wrote it down.

My gaze fell on the pot of red maple in the center of the balcony.

It had clearly been cared for with painstaking attention.

Yet for some reason, it had begun to wilt.

I abruptly stood up.

My movement interrupted the two of them, who had been leaning closer and closer as they talked. They stopped at once and looked at me in unison.

I smiled and raised the scissors in my hand.

“Go on. I’m just going to prune the potted plant.”