Last night's loss of control and chaos in the bathroom had been like a raging fever, tormenting Zhou Huai'an all night.
The next morning, dawn had barely begun to break.
With faint dark circles beneath his eyes, Zhou Huai'an walked into the classroom with one hand in his pocket and heavy steps. His eyes were webbed with red veins, and his entire body radiated an irritable, don't-mess-with-me attitude.
All day, Zhou Huai'an did everything he could to avoid looking toward the front of the room.
For once, he loudly joked around with the bro beside him during class and horsed around without restraint. Even when playing basketball during break, he moved with almost vicious intensity, trying to use that exaggerated swagger to prove that Xia Zhifeng hadn't affected him at all—to prove that he was still the same reckless menace.
But only he knew that every time Xia Zhifeng passed by him and that faint, clean soapberry scent drifted past his nose, his heartbeat would uncontrollably skip half a beat, and his back would stiffen like an iron plate.
At lunchtime, the students gradually left the classroom for the cafeteria.
Zhou Huai'an didn't go. Irritably, he pulled his uniform jacket over his head, folded his arms, and lay facedown on his desk, trying to use sleep to suppress the dull spasms in his stomach and the smile that refused to leave his mind.
He didn't know how long had passed before the area around him fell completely silent.
Half-conscious, Zhou Huai'an heard faint footsteps stop beside his desk. Then came the soft rustle of a plastic bag being placed on the corner of his desk.
The footsteps didn't linger. They soon turned and walked away, stirring up a faint breeze.
Zhou Huai'an abruptly yanked the uniform jacket off his head and looked to the side with a wary gaze.
In the upper-right corner of his desk sat a carton of milk still steaming slightly, along with two plump, snowy-white meat buns.
Beneath the milk carton was a small slip of paper torn from a workbook.
In neat, graceful handwriting, it read: *“If your stomach's bad, don't sleep on an empty stomach. Eat first, then sleep.”*
There was no signature in the lower-right corner, but Zhou Huai'an was more familiar with that handwriting than anyone.
Zhou Huai'an stared at the milk and buns on his desk, his whole body seeming to freeze in place.
He stared hard at the note, his fingers unconsciously curling into fists. Shock, confusion, and an indescribable panic flashed through his eyes.
“Damn... Psycho. Who asked you to care?” he muttered, his voice terribly hoarse.
But despite the insult on his lips, his eyes seemed glued to the carton of warm milk. He couldn't look away.
“Yo, Bro Zhou! Where'd these buns come from? They smell amazing. I didn't get full earlier—mind sharing one?”
His bro had just come back from playing basketball and reached for the buns on the desk.
“Back off!”
Zhou Huai'an's gaze instantly turned cold. Like a wild animal protecting its food, he snatched the bag of buns and the milk into his arms. He glared viciously at his bro and snarled, “Where do you think you're reaching? Buy your own if you want one!”
His bro jumped at the sudden burst of anger and quickly pulled his hand back. “It's just one bun. Do you have to guard it like it's some kind of treasure...?”
Zhou Huai'an ignored him. Turning his back, he unwrapped the straw, stuck it into the milk, and took a long, hard pull.
The warm milk flowed down his throat into his stomach, easing the spasms and spreading its heat all the way to the deepest part of his chest.
He took a bite of the meat bun, filling his mouth, while his eyes remained fixed on Xia Zhifeng's empty seat at the front of the room. The tips of his ears flushed an unusually deep red again.
The afternoon sky was frighteningly gloomy, dense with dark clouds that looked ready to collapse at any moment.
When school let out, a blinding flash of lightning tore across the sky, and torrential rain violently swept over the entire city. Dense raindrops hammered against the awning at the school gate with a deafening patter.
The students hurried into the rain beneath their umbrellas or crowded beneath the school gate, waiting for their parents to pick them up.
Xia Zhifeng stood quietly beneath a tree at the school gate, holding a black folding umbrella and waiting for the rain to let up.
Just then, a black luxury sedan screeched to a stop on the crosswalk outside the school gate.
The door opened. A stern-faced, middle-aged man in an expensive suit stepped out with an umbrella in hand, impatience and haughty authority written across his face.
He was Zhou Huai'an's father—the head of Zhou Enterprises.
Xia Zhifeng's gaze sharpened slightly. In her past life, it was only much later that she learned how painful Zhou Huai'an's sophomore year had been. His mother had died young. His father had married a stepmother and had a younger son, and toward Zhou Huai'an he had shown nothing but endless criticism, abuse, and disdain.
“Zhou Huai'an! Get over here!” Zhou's father shouted as he walked up to Zhou Huai'an, who had just come out of the school gate. His voice was loud enough to draw sidelong glances from many students nearby.
Zhou Huai'an held his backpack with one hand, his uniform jacket snapping in the wind. Standing in the rain, his eyes were as cold as ice, and a mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What do you want?”
“What kind of attitude is that?!” Zhou's father was so furious that his face turned steely. Pointing at Zhou Huai'an's nose, he cursed, “Look at you! You look like some street punk! You came in dead last on the midterms again, and you're causing trouble at school every day! Your younger brother ranked first at his private school, and what about you? You've disgraced the entire Zhou family! Come back to the estate with me to see Second Uncle Zhou. Stop embarrassing me here!”
As he spoke, Zhou's father reached out roughly, grabbed Zhou Huai'an by the arm, and tried to drag him toward the car.
“Don't touch me!”
Like a wild animal whose most vulnerable spot had been touched, Zhou Huai'an suddenly swung his arm and violently shook off Zhou's father's hand!
His eyes were filled with disgust, disappointment, and the scars left by being trampled underfoot.
“What does your Zhou family have to do with me? Don't compare me to your precious son. You don't have the right to control me!” Zhou Huai'an roared, his eyes red. His voice sounded unbearably hoarse and desolate in the downpour.
He gave Zhou's father no chance to say anything else. Turning around, he plunged headlong into the pitch-black, narrow old alley across from the school gate, braving the storm.
Behind him, Zhou's father stamped his feet and cursed furiously before finally slamming the car door and driving away.
The students watching nearby whispered among themselves, their eyes full of mocking delight at the spectacle.
Under the tree, Xia Zhifeng watched Zhou Huai'an's despairing back disappear into the curtain of rain. Her heart felt as though an invisible hand had seized it tightly, squeezing out waves of aching bitterness.
In her past life, she had seen only Zhou Huai'an's arrogant, overbearing side. When had she ever seen him wantonly humiliated and trampled by his own family like this?
Without a moment's hesitation, Xia Zhifeng tightened her grip on the umbrella handle, stepped into the downpour, and chased after him toward the pitch-black alley.
The old alley was dim, with floodwater rushing through the cracks between the stone slabs.
Cold rain poured down from the heavens, swallowing the entire alley in a biting chill.
Zhou Huai'an leaned alone against a mottled, freezing brick wall.
He was completely soaked through. His uniform clung to his body, and cold rainwater kept sliding from the black strands hanging over his forehead. His hands were shoved into his pants pockets, his knuckles whitened from how tightly he clenched them. Huddled in the shadows, he radiated the viciousness and despair of someone abandoned by the entire world.
The pain of having his dignity torn to shreds beneath the feet of his closest family felt like a dull knife, sawing back and forth through his heart.
The sound of the downpour above him suddenly softened.
The cascading rain no longer struck his body. In its place was the black canopy of an umbrella covering his head.
Zhou Huai'an's body gave an almost imperceptible jolt.
He slowly raised his head. Through his rain-soaked hair, his gaze collided with a pair of clear, gentle eyes.
Xia Zhifeng stood before him.
To shelter him from the rain, she had tilted the not-quite-large black umbrella almost entirely toward his side. Half of Xia Zhifeng's own shoulder and uniform sleeve had already been soaked through by the violent downpour, and droplets slid from the tips of her hair.
As Zhou Huai'an looked at her face, at the complete absence of mockery in her eyes and the compassion and concern filling them—
An overwhelming sense of shame and defeat erupted in his chest like a volcano!
She had seen all of it: the most humiliated, most wretched moment of his life, when his father had rejected him as if he were nothing but trash!
“Get lost!”
Like a beast whose tail had been stepped on, Zhou Huai'an instantly lost control. He whipped up his arm, creating a rush of wind, and violently knocked the umbrella from Xia Zhifeng's hand!
Splash!
The umbrella slammed into the standing water, rolled twice, and was instantly swallowed by the downpour.
The torrential rain once again pounded furiously against both of them.
“Xia Zhifeng, what the hell did you follow me for?! Is watching me make a fool of myself that much fun?!” Zhou Huai'an snarled hysterically, his eyes red. His voice was so hoarse it nearly tore apart. “You don't need to worry about me! My dad called me a loser, and the whole school saw me get humiliated. Are you satisfied now?! Stop pretending to be some good person! Get lost! Just get lost!”
His chest heaved violently. Like a hedgehog with every quill raised, the boy tried to push away the only gentleness before him with the cruelest, most cutting words he could find.
Yet Xia Zhifeng didn't retreat even half a step in the face of his loss of control and fury.
His shouting didn't frighten her, nor did she show the slightest sign of hurt or sadness.
Her twenty-seven-year-old mind understood perfectly that the Zhou Huai'an before her was merely a little wolf wounded beyond recognition, using a body full of quills to disguise his vulnerability.
Xia Zhifeng silently turned around and walked into the downpour, picking up the umbrella lying in the standing water. She opened it again and walked back toward Zhou Huai'an one step at a time, once more holding it steadily over his head.
She didn't lecture him or offer any of those pale, powerless words of comfort.
She simply looked at him in silence. Her clear eyes were as calm as a deep pool, holding understanding, acceptance, and a steadfastness that had crossed the boundaries of time.
Zhou Huai'an met her gaze.
That look again. That look that seemed able to see through every disguise, every weakness, and every sorrow he possessed.
Before those calm yet powerful eyes, all his ferocity, all his defenses, and all his quills seemed ridiculous and powerless.
Being seen through so completely terrified Zhou Huai'an. He couldn't face this version of Xia Zhifeng, much less the wretched, vulnerable self he became in front of her.
“Damn it...”
Zhou Huai'an clenched his teeth hard, his eyes so red they looked ready to bleed.
He turned away from Xia Zhifeng's gaze, shoved through the curtain of rain before him, avoided the umbrella sheltering him from the wind and rain, and once again charged headfirst into the depths of the pitch-black storm without looking back!
His steps were frantic and clumsy. He fled the alley in almost humiliating disarray.
Xia Zhifeng stood in the icy rain, gripping the tilted umbrella.