1.
Lục Dật Lâm messaged me.
I turned on auto-reply, and the following conversation ensued:
Lục Dật Lâm: [What was that about today? Care to explain?]
Me: [(Automatic reply) This guy's busy.]
Lục Dật Lâm: [?]
Me: [(Automatic reply) This guy's busy.]
Lục Dật Lâm: [You want to fail the class, is that it?]
Me: [Aaaaaah, Professor, I'm sorry! I set up auto-reply…]
Lục Dật Lâm: [Too late.]
2.
Here's what happened. Because of the pandemic, the schools were closed, and the university moved classes online.
I was stuck in the dorm, sick of eating three meals a day from the cafeteria.
I swear, it just suddenly occurred to me that I could cook for myself.
Just this once.
Then, somehow, my camera turned on.
And stayed on.
I was standing in front of Lục Dật Lâm, slicing meat, and he even told me I was using too much chicken breast.
Boo-hoo! What's wrong with a college student eating a little extra meat?
3.
I was “invited” to a faculty office for a talk.
Everyone was wearing a mask, but that still couldn't hide Lục Dật Lâm's devastatingly handsome face.
His eyes were lowered, so he didn't see me. With nothing better to do, I fidgeted with my car keys.
The instructor rubbed his forehead and asked me,
“Where did you get the vegetables?”
“I bought them from the lady at the cafeteria.”
“And the seasonings?”
“I asked the dorm supervisor for them.”
“…”
“Seriously, Ngô Lâm Nghiêu, your social circle is way too big. You know everyone from the cafeteria lady to the dorm supervisor?”
I gave a couple of awkward laughs.
“Don't laugh. Go home and write a self-criticism. Don't do this again.”
The instructor turned to look at Lục Dật Lâm.
“Professor Lục, do you have anything to say?”
Only then did he look up. His ink-black eyes swept over me from head to toe.
“Me? I don't have anything else to say.”
“If my teaching was so bad that this student didn't want to listen, that's my fault.”
His tone was a little strange, but really, everything had been over the moment I got there.
But my brain short-circuited, and I blurted out, “But Professor Lục, you're so beautiful…”
The instructor and Lục Dật Lâm both turned to look at me.
A moment later, a cool, refined voice spoke.
“I've changed my mind. You can write me a thousand-word self-criticism too.”
“In English.”
4.
“Are you OK?”
My roommate, F, pushed her chair back and looked at me with concern.
“Don't. I don't want to hear a single word right now.”
I collapsed onto my bed.
Why, oh why, can't I keep my mouth shut?
If God gave me the power to turn back time, I'd go back six hours and tape my mouth shut.
I'd also take back that auto-reply feature.
And I wouldn't have made a fool of myself in the faculty office.
“Maybe this is just life.”
F leaned over my bed.
“Unpredictable?”
“Despair.”
5.
My phone rang seven or eight times. I sighed, glanced at the name on the screen, and sat bolt upright.
I answered carefully.
The person on the other end was quiet for a moment, then said, “Come downstairs and get the food your mom made for you.”
Then he promptly hung up.
…
I got dressed and raced downstairs.
Sure enough, I spotted his car beneath a big tree not far away: a white Phaeton, understated and luxurious.
Lục Dật Lâm sat in the car, his shirtsleeves neatly rolled up to reveal his slender arms.
He held the meal my mom had made.
That's right, he wasn't just my college English instructor.
He was my neighbor, too.
And not just any neighbor—he'd been one since we were kids.
6.
I buried my head in my food while Lục Dật Lâm scrolled on his phone beside me.
Without his glasses, his features looked quite sharp, but he still had the kind of face that made women swoon.
Honestly, good food can soothe the soul.
Especially Mom's cooking.
“Your mood's been all over the place through one meal. You really should've become an actor.”
The person beside me suddenly spoke.
“And you still made me write a self-criticism.”
I pouted and put the lid back on my lunchbox.
“I didn't make you. Your instructor came to my class on his own.”
I suddenly felt something at the corner of my mouth. I looked up. He'd taken out a tissue and was about to wipe away a smudge.
When our eyes met, he stopped.
His gaze drifted downward.
“Wipe it yourself.”
“…”
“Can I not write a thousand-word self-criticism in English?”
“No.”
“Please, Lục…”
“Trying to sweet-talk me? It won't work.”
7.
Over the next few days, my mom occasionally asked Lục Dật Lâm to bring me food.
Writing a thousand-word self-criticism in English? I'd rather die. I planned to bluff my way through it.
Then, out of the blue, he messaged me on Friday.
[Just because I'm not nagging you doesn't mean I forgot.]
[…]
That Friday evening, as soon as I got in the car, I shoved two crumpled sheets of my self-criticism into his hand.
He didn't smile, but I could tell he was pretty satisfied.
There was a great variety of food today, too.
I was halfway through eating when I suddenly froze.
“Ah!”
“What is it?”
He furrowed his brow slightly and leaned on the steering wheel, looking at me.
His expression was tired, like he was thinking, “Let's see what you're up to now.”
“Didn't my mom go hiking with her friends?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Then this food is…”
“I made it.”
“…”
No wonder. I knew it—how could my mom, who was devoted to Chinese food, suddenly make steak and Western-style rice?
“Is it bad?”
Though the person beside me asked, he didn't look the least bit unsure of himself.
“It's delicious!” I nodded furiously.
“Then could this silly student eat in silence?”
“…”
Why'd he have to call me stupid all of a sudden?
He sighed, as if he knew what I was thinking.
“I glanced at your self-criticism, and spotted at least four grammar mistakes right away.”
“Are you trying to get your Level Six certificate or something?”
“…”
8.
“Lục Dật Lâm.”
I closed my lunchbox and called his name seriously.
He answered with a quiet “Mm.” His dark eyes turned toward me, and even his glasses couldn't hide their helpless look.
“The pipe in my dorm is broken, so I can't shower.” I fiddled with the hem of my skirt.
“And?”
“So… could I come to your place to take a shower?”
9.
I really liked Lục Dật Lâm's home.
Yeah, it was refined. Incredibly refined.
There was nothing unnecessary, and just looking at it made me feel at ease.
Everything had its proper place. For example, if I came over to his place, my shoes would go in the second empty slot in the shoe cabinet.
That was where my shoes went.
I'd once asked him what he, as a perfectionist, would do if a lot of guests suddenly showed up at his house.
Those dark eyes still looked at me coolly.
“Do you think I'd let anyone else come over besides you?”
10.
The plumbing and electricity in our dorm weren't all that great, so the bathroom at his place brought me a lot of joy.
I just still wasn't used to adjusting the water temperature.
I didn't know whether to turn it left or right, or up or down. The water wasn't all that cold, but it still felt freezing to me.
I called to him from the bathroom, and he appeared almost immediately.
As soon as he saw me, he looked away. “Get dressed properly.”
“I am dressed properly. What's wrong with this?”
I didn't understand why he was making such a big deal of it. I turned to look in the mirror. I'd only taken off my sweater and put on a nightgown with a robe over it.
Maybe it was because my shoulders were showing, or the neckline was a little low?
He glanced at me, then walked past and turned on the water, checking the temperature again.
After a moment of silence, he said, “I remember now.”
“Hm?” I tilted my head to look at him.
“I'd set the water temperature to a steady level before, so that's why it feels off to you.”
“Lục Dật Lâm, is this the temperature you usually shower at?”
“Why?”
“It's a little cold.”
“What about your water? Every time you finish showering, I wonder if a volcano's about to erupt.”
“…”
I'd gone to his place to shower now and then, but I hadn't realized he had a problem with the temperature I liked.
But I thought the temperature was just right. Why did he think it was hot?
11.
Lục Dật Lâm said he had to go outside to turn off the water heater, so I obediently stepped aside to let him through.
Maybe I shouldn't have been quite so obedient.
His slippers were a little slippery. I'm just telling it like it is.
So when I leaned to the side and lost my balance, I thought he might not be able to catch me in time.
My head was bound to swell up like a ladle.
But he managed to pull me back in time. I grabbed his sleeve, and we tumbled heavily to the floor together.
More precisely, I landed on top of him.
“Are you okay?”
He let out a quiet groan, and I panicked.
In that instant, I understood one thing: Maybe men's body temperatures were naturally higher, which was why they showered in such cold water.
“What are you groping around for?”
It wasn't until the cold, gritted voice of the man beneath me rang out that I realized we were in a very strange position.
Very strange.
“Right, right, right. I'm sorry.”
I hurried to get up, only then noticing that my ears had grown hot. His gaze in particular felt as if it could see straight through me.
He sighed and got to his feet with easy composure.
“I'm fine.”
This time, when he walked past me, I felt a little guilty and wanted to tug on his sleeve. He stopped.
His voice was as cool as ever, with a hint of helplessness.
“Ngô Lâm Nghiêu, do you really think I'm that much of a gentleman?”
“Or do you think I wouldn't have the normal physical reaction of a man when it comes to you?”