Happy Valentine's, my love

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Here's a little something before you read: https://x.com/gremlinyibito/status/1756645241724252252?t=0r-RKj0Q4W9JhVAmFJZlpw&s=09

Xiao Zhan, an art professor at a university, hails from an excellent family of art prodigies. He is well-known and has received numerous rewards for his own talent. He completed his master's and doctorate degrees in arts at a young age. Despite receiving countless invitations from different universities, each attempting to persuade him with unlimited compromises, he chose to remain at his alma mater.

During the day, he spends his time lecturing to aspiring artists. But when darkness envelops the sky, he sits in front of his canvas, eyes focused on the blank slate before him, grabbing a brush and dipping it into a color of his liking. His hand holds the brush as he gracefully swipes lines and curves with varying heaviness.

He stays at the university, having his own lecture room which becomes his studio when night falls. His bedroom is in the back room of his lecture hall, specially customized for his accommodation. The university has become his primary residence; he only goes home to his penthouse on Sundays.

On some nights, he feels a shiver, stopping midway to scan his surroundings but shrugging it off afterward, continuing his work once again. He sometimes hears music resonating from the other room, not that he minds; rather, it makes him more focused on his work, so he doesn't complain. It is always peaceful at night when students don't run around, and only a few staff and personnel walk around the hall. Sometimes, the guards who patrol the university greet him with wide smiles, probably happy to see such a hardworking man. Having grown accustomed to his late-night work, it isn't all new.

There are times when the guard brings him food, placed in a box. He is always confused, brows furrowing and complaining that he always receives food for free, but the guards always smile sheepishly at him, telling him that they just saw it at their desk at the guardhouse, addressed to him. Xiao Zhan pouts at the sight of the box; he doesn't want the food to go to waste! So he opens it. It always surprises him; it's always the food he likes, something he only eats at home. It always makes him smile despite not knowing where it comes from, and he eats it deliciously, his cheeks puffing in delight, legs kicking under the table as he savors the treats. "I want to thank whoever gave me this!" he always squeals, but as the guards always tell him, it will always be on their desks when they get back, the CCTVs not recording anyone putting them there.

One day, his routine changed. His Saturday suddenly became occupied because of his mother's insistence on setting him up. She complains that Xiao Zhan is already getting old and his age is out of the calendar already, and he should be married by now. Xiao Zhan finds it ridiculous, evident all over his face. But he can't argue back to his mother; he's single and he can't always reason out that he's busy with his work. He sighs in defeat, well aware that accepting the offer will make his mother stop pestering him.

The next Saturday, he went on the date his mother set up. He met the woman, shaking hands with her with a polite smile on his face before entering the high-end restaurant. Two platters of high-grade steak were served with a bottle of wine. The meal started smoothly, with casual conversation about the state of their families and their educational backgrounds.

The lady introduces herself as Jia, a high school teacher currently pursuing her doctorate degree in arts. She's a beautiful lady, professionalism evident in her posture. She's fine, similar to Xiao Zhan's interests; they seem to share the same interests, keeping their conversation mostly focused on their expertise.

After dinner, Xiao Zhan insisted on accompanying her home. She never complained one bit; a blush flashed across her skin as she lowered her head to hide her cheeks, her hand gripping tight on her bag's handle to conceal her excitement, her lips trying hard to hide the smile that was about to break out.

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