The next morning, after the bell for morning self-study had rung three times, the window seat in the back row of the classroom was still completely empty.
“Bro Zhou didn’t come today? His dad flew into such a rage at the school gate last night. Don’t tell me he really locked him up at home?”
“Could be. The look in Bro Zhou’s eyes when he shook off his dad and ran yesterday was seriously scary…”
Chatter rose and fell in the hallway and the corners of the classroom.
Xia Zhifeng sat at her desk, quietly turning the pages of her English textbook. As she listened to everyone’s guesses, she knew the truth perfectly well—in light of Zhou Huai’an’s temper, harder than stone, there was no way he would obediently follow Zhou’s father back to the Zhou family estate.
Back in their senior year, the two of them had once gotten into an argument over class business. In the heat of the moment, Zhou Huai’an had blurted out, “When I’m fed up, the only place I want to go is that crappy apartment near the school!”
It was a bachelor apartment in the old residential complex behind the school, private property his mother had left him before she died—and the only safe haven where he could hide from the storm.
As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Xia Zhifeng packed her schoolbag. She did not go straight home.
First, she went to a pharmacy and bought cooling patches, fever reducer, and a thermometer. Then she picked up a steaming container of light plain rice porridge from the congee shop outside the school gate. Following the route she remembered, she easily found the slightly run-down apartment building.
Standing outside the door on the fifth floor, Xia Zhifeng knocked.
“Knock, knock, knock! Get lost! Quit bothering me!”
Zhou Huai’an’s hoarse growl came from inside, rough as sandpaper. A moment later, something hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Xia Zhifeng did not knock again. She raised her head, her gaze landing on the narrow space above the doorframe. In her past life, this guy had always thought getting out his keys was a hassle, so he habitually kept the spare in a little box on top of the frame.
She reached up with her slender fingers and, sure enough, found a string of icy metal keys.
Click.
The lock turned, and the door was pushed open from the outside.
The apartment was dark. The curtains were drawn tight, and the air was thick with the heavy smell of medicine and stifling heat.
Zhou Huai’an was curled up on the old sofa in the living room, wrapped in a thin school uniform jacket. His eyes were tightly shut, his cheeks flushed from fever, his lips dry and peeling. His whole body trembled faintly from the high temperature.
Hearing the movement at the door, he blearily opened his eyes a sliver. Bloodshot veins filled his gaze from the fever.
When he saw Xia Zhifeng standing in the doorway, a fierce, intensely guarded look burst into the boy’s eyes. He struggled to sit up, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible. “Xia Zhifeng… what are you… Who let you in?! Get out…”
Xia Zhifeng completely ignored his bluster.
She closed the door behind her, set the medicine and porridge on the coffee table, took off her scarf, and crossed the few steps to the sofa.
“Don’t move.”
Under Zhou Huai’an’s shocked and resistant stare, Xia Zhifeng bent down and pressed her cool, refreshing palm directly against his burning forehead.
The coolness of her palm felt so good against Zhou Huai’an’s fever-fogged head that he unconsciously let out a soft hum. But the intense embarrassment that followed made him jerk his head away from her hand. “Don’t touch me…”
“Zhou Huai’an, a fever over 102.2 degrees can turn you into an idiot. You’re not exactly smart to begin with, and if the fever makes you even dumber, you’ll drag down the average score of our academic support group.” Xia Zhifeng’s tone was calm and teasing, but her hands moved briskly and decisively.
She took out a cooling patch and stuck it to his forehead. Then she poured a glass of warm water, supported the back of his neck, and slipped the fever reducer into his mouth. “Take your medicine.”
Zhou Huai’an was left somewhat dazed by her forceful yet completely natural attitude. Someone who was sick was already physically and emotionally vulnerable. Faced with Xia Zhifeng’s clear, gentle eyes, all the sharp defenses he had used to prick people seemed to lose their footing in an instant.
He swallowed the medicine with a gulp, then fell back onto the sofa and turned his face away from her. But whether from the fever or something else, the tips of his ears were bright red.
Xia Zhifeng went into the kitchen for a clean bowl and poured out the plain rice porridge.
“Eat some porridge first. Taking fever medicine on an empty stomach will upset your stomach.”
Holding the steaming bowl, Zhou Huai’an lowered his head and shoveled the porridge into his mouth one bite at a time.
The clean fragrance of the porridge spread through his mouth, warming his chilled stomach. The living room was utterly quiet, with only the sound of him drinking porridge and the gentle rush of water as Xia Zhifeng carefully washed a towel in the kitchen.
Zhou Huai’an watched her gentle, attentive back as she busied herself around him, and his eyes gradually began to sting.
Ever since his mother’s death, the Zhou family estate had held nothing but lofty reprimands and his stepmother’s hypocritical, cold stares. Whenever he got sick with a fever, he had always been alone, curled up in this cold apartment and toughing it out.
This was the first time someone had crossed most of the city to bring him medicine, cook him porridge, and put a cooling patch on his forehead after learning he was sick.
Not long after he finished the porridge, the medicine began to take effect, and Zhou Huai’an felt drowsy.
Just as he was drifting toward sleep, the phone on the coffee table suddenly began vibrating violently.
Zhou Huai’an frowned and picked it up. The screen clearly displayed the words “Second Uncle.”
He pressed the answer button and turned on speakerphone, then rasped, “Hello…”
A middle-aged man’s voice came through the phone, falsely kindly with a hint of concern. “Huai’an! Second Uncle heard you had a huge fight with your dad last night? Sigh, your dad has always favored your younger brother. It makes Second Uncle angry for you! Your mother helped him build Zhou Enterprises from the ground up back then, so why should all the benefits go to your younger brother now?”
Pressing his aching temples, Zhou Huai’an spoke with utter annoyance and weary despair. “Second Uncle, what are you trying to say?”
“Huai’an, Second Uncle is trying to help you!” His voice lowered as he coaxed him. “Come to my office tomorrow morning. I’ve drafted an agreement for you. All you have to do is sign it, authorize me to fight for your equity, and I guarantee I’ll help you get back what your mother left you!”
His father had wounded him so deeply, and his head was splitting with pain. Zhou Huai’an felt as if nothing mattered anymore. He rasped out a few words. “Whatever. I’ll go tomorrow…”
“Sign what? You’re sick and need to rest.”
A slender, pale hand suddenly reached over. Without the slightest hesitation, it swiped across the screen, and with a decisive click, the call ended!
Xia Zhifeng then pressed the power button, shut off Zhou Huai’an’s phone, and tossed it back onto the coffee table.
Zhou Huai’an was completely stunned. He stared blankly at what she had done. “You… why did you hang up on my call?”
“You have a high fever right now. Your brain is practically mush. What kind of business agreement are you going to discuss?” Xia Zhifeng picked up the thin blanket beside him and covered him with it, then naturally patted his shoulder. “There. A sick person’s only job right now is to sleep. Even if the sky falls, it can wait until your fever breaks.”
With that, Xia Zhifeng pulled a round stool from the corner of the living room and sat down beside the sofa.
She took her homework and textbooks out of her schoolbag, switched on the desk lamp beside her, and let its clear light spill over her. It made her quiet profile look especially gentle.
“You… you’re not leaving?” Zhou Huai’an asked dully, clutching the blanket.
“I’ll leave after your fever breaks.” Xia Zhifeng opened her textbook and said softly without looking up, “Go to sleep. I’m right here.”
Zhou Huai’an watched her quietly doing her homework.
The warm light of the desk lamp fell across her hair, reflecting a gentle halo. The room held only the soft scratch of her pen across the paper and the mingled sound of their breathing.
This unfamiliar sense of security was like a warm hand smoothing away all the irritability and violence in his heart. Zhou Huai’an’s long eyelashes trembled, and at last he could no longer resist the heavy pull of sleep. He sank into a deep slumber.
He slept all the way until evening.
When Zhou Huai’an opened his eyes again, the high fever on his forehead had broken, and much of his strength had returned.
Outside, the sky had been dyed golden by the setting sun. Evening light poured through the gap in the curtains and stretched long shadows across the living room floor.
Zhou Huai’an sat up and immediately saw Xia Zhifeng still sitting on the round stool.
She had finished her homework. Now she rested her chin in one hand and gazed sideways at the evening clouds outside. Her profile, bathed in the golden afterglow, was beautiful enough to be a painting.
Hearing movement from the sofa, Xia Zhifeng turned around and reached out to touch his forehead. A relaxed smile curved her lips. “Mm, the fever’s gone. Looks like you’re in decent shape.”
Zhou Huai’an looked at her, then at the phone on the coffee table, which was still turned off. His mind returned to Second Uncle’s call before he fell asleep.
The proud, prickly boy awkwardly rubbed his hair, glanced away, and spoke with a dry voice. “Before… why didn’t you let me agree to what Second Uncle said? He is my second uncle, at least. He said he wanted to help me…”
Xia Zhifeng closed the pen in her hand and turned to face him.
She did not lecture him from a position of superiority or analyze the situation with any especially serious business jargon. She simply looked at him with those calm, clear eyes, a teasing smile at the corners of her lips.
“Zhou Huai’an, you’re pretty smart when you play basketball. How come you turn stupid whenever it comes to family matters? He didn’t contact you sooner or later—he picked the exact moment when you were fighting with your dad the hardest, when you were practically ready to cut ties with him, to ask you to sign?”
Zhou Huai’an froze for a moment.
“Was he really trying to help you? He saw that you were angry and wanted to use the things you said in the heat of the moment to trick you into signing a statement giving up your rights or entrusting your equity to him. He wanted to use you as a weapon against your dad.”
Xia Zhifeng raised her eyebrows and continued in a half-joking tone. “Besides, sick people shouldn’t be making complicated decisions in the first place. If you’re going to sign anything, wait until our Young Master Zhou’s head is clear. Otherwise, you’ll get scammed and end up crying into your pillow.”
Her words about crying into his pillow made Zhou Huai’an’s face heat up. He glared at her in embarrassment and anger. “Who’s going to cry into their pillow?! I’m not that stupid!”
Though his words were tough, his heart was surging like a massive storm.
Xia Zhifeng was completely right. He really had almost fallen for it because his father had hurt him so deeply that he had become utterly disheartened.
The girl in front of him had not only taken care of him physically; in those few short minutes, she had also used an extraordinarily sharp and calm instinct to shield him from a massive trap.
The living room fell briefly silent again. The glow of dusk settled over them both, leaving the atmosphere subtly sweet.
Zhou Huai’an looked at Xia Zhifeng, feeling the extraordinary steadiness and wholehearted protection she gave him. The confusion and stirrings in his heart finally reached their peak.
He lowered his head and stared at his long fingers. His voice was low and hoarse, carrying the frustration and self-mockery unique to a teenage boy.
“Xia Zhifeng… what’s gotten into you lately? Why are you suddenly being so good to me?”
The boy paused. His eyes were slightly red as he softly asked the question he had kept bottled up for so long.
“Even my dad thinks I’m a useless loser, and everyone at school hates me… What do you want from me?”
Hearing the self-deprecation straight from his heart, Xia Zhifeng felt as if something had gently twisted her heart, leaving waves of ache in its wake.
She did not offer him a long-winded speech of comfort or make some grand vow.
Xia Zhifeng stood up and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt, then slung her packed schoolbag over her shoulder. Turning around, she looked down at Zhou Huai’an on the sofa. The corners of her eyes curved into lovely crescents, and an extraordinarily bright, sunny smile bloomed across her face.
“What do I want from you? Zhou Huai’an, did you forget what you did?”
Zhou Huai’an looked up at her, bewildered. “What?”
With her schoolbag on her back, Xia Zhifeng placed both hands on the coffee table and leaned slightly closer. Her clear eyes were full of playfulness and mischief.
“At the beginning of sophomore year, on the one-on-one academic support form, you were the one who made a big sweeping selection and chose me as your group leader. Since I’m your academic support group leader, of course I’m this kind—taking care of my group members and stopping them from getting scammed. Isn’t that what a group leader is supposed to do?”
The boy’s pupils instantly widened!
The inferiority, frustration, and hurt that had been building in his heart vanished without a trace in the face of her words—three parts teasing and seven parts indulgent affection.
The tips of his ears rapidly turned bright red. Zhou Huai’an sprang up from the sofa like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and shouted, stumbling over his words, “You… Xia Zhifeng! You’re bringing up that form again!”
“Okay, the academic support group member assignment is complete. The group leader is going home for dinner.”
Seeing his flushed, lively face, Xia Zhifeng laughed softly. She stopped teasing him, went to the door to change her shoes, opened it, then turned back and waved at him with a bright smile.
“Zhou Huai’an, see you at school tomorrow! If you dare to be late, your group leader is making you copy the text!”
“Who said I’d listen to you?! Get lost!” Zhou Huai’an shouted fiercely, but there was not the slightest trace of real anger in his voice.
Bang.
The door closed gently.
Xia Zhifeng walked lightly down the stairs. The setting sun stretched her shadow long, and her mood was unbelievably bright.
Inside the apartment, Zhou Huai’an stood alone in the entryway.
He looked at the empty doorway, then at the empty bowl that had held the plain rice porridge and the thoughtful box of cooling patches on the coffee table.
The faint clean fragrance of soapberry still seemed to linger in the air from her presence.
Zhou Huai’an raised both hands and covered his burning cheeks, pressing hard. Through the gaps between his long fingers, the boy’s lips revealed a brilliant curve he could no longer suppress.
“Academic support group leader…”
He muttered the words under his breath, then collapsed back onto the sofa, pulled the blanket over his head, and rolled across the cushions with absurd childishness. His low laughter drifted out from beneath the blanket.
This time, he never wanted to run away again. See you at school tomorrow.