Chapter 17: Unhappy

On the rooftop of a summer afternoon, the girl leaned forward, her eyes curved with a smile as she looked at him and said, “I’ll wait for you here.”

“If you don’t come, I’ll keep waiting.”

Zhou Hangyan went.

The sunlight was strong in the May afternoon. The rooftop was vast and open with no shade, so he feared she might find it too hot. He finished the last exam paper in only two-thirds of the allotted time and was the first to hand in his test and leave the examination room.

He waited on the rooftop until evening.

The next day, she dropped out of school.

She didn’t even show up, disappearing cleanly and completely.

Zhou Hangyan never understood why, after meeting her again, she could remain so calm and composed, almost naturally disrupting his life once more.

She was reckless, crashing into his meticulously laid-out, peaceful existence with unstoppable force again and again. She stirred up chaos without reason, and then vanished without a trace.

Not even leaving him a single word.

What was this?

“Are you having fun playing with me?”

The man’s voice was low and raspy, as indifferent as ever, devoid of emotion, seemingly not angry either.

The background on his side was quiet. When he fell silent, all that could be heard were the faint sounds of electric currents and air moving.

Xiang Ge lacked the energy to analyze the deeper meaning or emotions behind his words. Without much thought, she blurted out, “No, I’m not happy.”

Zhou Hangyan chuckled, his laugh carrying an uncomfortable chill. “It seems I haven’t been able to entertain you fully?”

Xiang Ge fell silent.

Her thoughts drifted. She had a fever, and her mind felt sluggish, unable to fully grasp his sarcasm.

All she knew was that he sounded so harsh.

His tone was so severe.

Ever since she met him at the hospital, he had been treating her poorly.

He would speak kindly to other women, even go on dates with them, saying things like “maybe tomorrow.” But when it came to her, all he showed was coldness and severity.

Even when she obediently wore flat shoes or brought him sushi, it made no difference.

He was still harsh.

The bedroom was quiet. The linen curtains swelled slightly, and the sparse stars and bright moon outside became the only source of light, casting a hazy glow over the soft contours of the foot of the bed.

The wind blew in waves. Xiang Ge shivered from the cold, but her body was burning with heat. Her head spun dizzily, as if the darkness before her eyes was swirling. Her weak, hoarse voice whispered two words clearly: “Alright.”

Zhou Hangyan instantly fell silent, his black lashes trembling slightly.

Xiang Ge closed her eyes, her fingertips groping backward for the blanket. Not finding it, she curled up again at the edge of the bed.

Her phone pressed against her ear, her voice tinged with委屈 (grievance). “I feel awful.”

Thinking of his earlier harsh tone, she felt even more wronged.

He used to be different.

He never used to be harsh with her.

Xiang Ge lowered her long lashes, burying her face in the pillow. In a weak and pitiful voice, she repeated, “I feel so awful.”

For a brief moment, Zhou Hangyan’s breath hitched.

He paused, setting aside all negative emotions, and softened his voice to ask, “What’s wrong—where are you?”

Her voice was small, raspy, and somewhat muffled: “At home.”

Zhou Hangyan had already stood up. He had just taken a shower and changed into pajamas. Now, he quickly grabbed some clothes from the closet, snatched the car keys from the coffee table, and rushed out the door.

The call hadn’t ended; he held the phone close as she continued speaking, her voice intermittent and distant. He couldn’t hear clearly.

Half an hour later, he arrived at her building. Getting out of the car, he stood by the entrance, holding the phone and calling her name.

There was no response from Xiang Ge’s side.

Zhou Hangyan raised his voice slightly.

She made a soft sound, as if just realizing: “You’re still on the line?”

Zhou Hangyan climbed the steps, standing on the marble slab where she had previously unbuttoned his shirt. Frowning at the locked door, he asked, “Which floor is your apartment?”

Xiang Ge gave him a room number.

Zhou Hangyan pressed the doorbell twice, but there was no response.

With patience wearing thin, he called her, “Xiang Ge, open the door.”

After a while, a faint click was heard from the door.

Zhou Hangyan pushed it open and entered.

Xiang Ge’s apartment complex was designed for privacy, with two units per floor. The elevator led to separate anti-theft doors on either side, blocked from view by a cold marble wall.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he heard the sound of the anti-theft door being unlocked. Xiang Ge stood barefoot at the entrance, her toes curled and rubbing together. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes wet and unfocused.

A thin white nightgown clung tightly to her sweat-dampened body, faintly revealing the outline of her skin underneath.

She leaned her head against the doorframe, shivering from the cold, her lips pouting as she looked at him. “I’m so hot.”

Zhou Hangyan didn’t say anything. He walked in silently, closing the door behind him, and placed his hand on her forehead.

Her skin was damp with sweat, scorching hot.

Zhou Hangyan looked down at her: “Xiang Ge, we need to go to the hospital.”

But Xiang Ge suddenly flinched.

It was as if she had been transported back to many years ago. She froze briefly, then instinctively shook her head.

Despite her previous eagerness to visit frequently, she now refused to go.

Zhou Hangyan sighed and pulled her inside. “Let’s get off the cold floor first.”

Xiang Ge hung her head, quietly following him. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he magically produced her medicine box and fetched a basin and towel from the bathroom.

Zhou Hangyan closed the window tightly, drew the curtains, turned on the bedside lamp, and turned to her: “Lie down.”

Xiang Ge blinked and obediently lay down.

She turned to look at him, her body trembling uncontrollably as she rasped, “I’m so hot.”

Whether she was feeling cold or hot, it was unclear.

Zhou Hangyan felt both exasperated and amused. He bent down to retrieve the cup she had kicked to the foot of the bed and covered it securely.

Xiang Ge’s face and chin were half-hidden under the blanket, looking stifled. She started to struggle, but he firmly pressed her down.

“Heat,” she murmured, looking up at him.

“Even if you’re hot, stay covered.”

She stopped moving.

Zhou Hangyan soaked a cold towel and placed it on her head. Then he bent down to search through her dilapidated little medicine box, which contained only two boxes of cold medicine and a pile of painkillers, but no thermometer.

Finding some fever-reducing pills, he took one out and went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of lukewarm water.

When he returned, the person on the bed had already closed her eyes. Her lashes trembled, and her body still shook.

Zhou Hangyan sat by the bed and called her, “Xiang Ge.”

Xiang Ge frowned but didn’t move.

He called her again.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Zhou Hangyan placed the glass of water on the bedside table, lifted her by the shoulders, and handed her the water and pill. “Take the medicine before sleeping.”

Xiang Ge stared at him for a moment.

The man’s expression was calm as he sat by the bed, his presence carrying the pleasant scent of shower gel mingled with something uniquely his.

It was crisp yet warm, reminiscent of many years ago when, as a youth, he had said with a clean gentleness, “If you fight again, I won’t care about you anymore.”

Xiang Ge suddenly remembered hazily the movie audition she had attended that morning.

The savior-type people.

If they truly existed.

If they did exist.

She spaced out for a while, and Zhou Hangyan waited patiently, watching her take the pill and slide back under the covers.

After lying still for a while, she slowly spoke again, “I set a lot of alarms.”

Zhou Hangyan was startled and looked up.

Under the warm yellow light, her eyes glistened with moisture. Her fair cheeks were flushed, her breathing a bit rapid, and her body, wrapped in the blanket, rose and fell gently.

“I was so afraid of oversleeping,” she said.

“I didn’t dare take the fever medicine.”

“Otherwise, I’d be sleepy when I saw you.”

“You’re not being mean anymore.” She raised her hand to rub her eyes and muttered, “Maybe it was a dream.”

Zhou Hangyan couldn’t utter a word.

Deep within his heart, something was being tugged by her soft, gentle words, causing a lingering, subtle ache.

His Adam’s apple moved slightly, and his fingers tightened around the corner of the blanket. His voice softened and became hoarse: “Close your eyes and sleep.”

Xiang Ge shook her head, kicking her legs restlessly under the blanket. “So hot.”

Zhou Hangyan pressed down on the edge of the blanket to prevent her from moving. “Stay covered. You’ll feel better soon.”

The blanket was firmly pinned down, and Xiang Ge couldn’t free herself. Heat radiated from her body, making her fever unbearable.

She whimpered softly, burrowing her head into the blanket.

Before Zhou Hangyan could react, he saw the lump under the soft blanket slowly sliding downward until the upper half of the bed was empty. Her pale feet and long legs gradually emerged from under the blanket, trailing onto the bedroom carpet.

Zhou Hangyan: “….”

Was this girl a little troublemaker?

Her nightgown was being pushed upward, and as her knees continued to slide down, Zhou Hangyan quickly grabbed the person who had buried their entire head in the blanket. He lifted her up and tucked her back under the covers.

Xiang Ge’s face reappeared on the pillow, not very pleased, as she wrinkled her nose. “Hot.”

This time, Zhou Hangyan’s face hardened. “Bear with it.”

Xiang Ge whimpered pitifully, “I’m going to be thoroughly cooked.”

Zhou Hangyan pulled the blanket higher and tucked her extended arm back under the covers. “You won’t be cooked until you reach 75 degrees Celsius.”

Xiang Ge didn’t reply. Slowly and cautiously, she tried extending her foot out of the blanket again.

But before she could touch the edge, she was pulled back.

Her temperature was high, and her mind was already somewhat unclear. As the drowsiness from the fever medicine set in, she grew quieter, falling into an uneasy sleep.

In her haze, she could feel the cool, refreshing sensation as the towel on her forehead was continuously replaced, prompting her to sigh in relief.

Lost in deep sleep, trapped under the tightly pressed blanket, she began undressing under the covers.

The woman furrowed her brows, her eyes tightly shut, seemingly still asleep. Under the blanket, her body wriggled for a long while. Finally relaxing, she pulled out a white dress and tossed it aside.

The soft fabric floated lightly, landing with a soft “plop” on Zhou Hangyan’s head.

“…”