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Xiang Ge first met Zhou Xingyan when she was fifteen.
It was the first week of her freshman year in high school. Out of the five school days, Xiang Ge had been late for four. On the fifth day, she didn’t even plan to arrive on time.
That day, it just so happened that Zhou Xingyan was in charge of recording tardy students. The young man stood tall and handsome, with clean-cut black hair and a neatly pressed uniform. Not a single wrinkle marred his collar, and his zipper was pulled up perfectly.
Holding a clipboard at the entrance of Shida Affiliated High School, he glanced at her with long lashes slightly lifted, his expression devoid of emotion: “Name.”
Xiang Ge slung her empty backpack loosely over one shoulder, with one hand tucked into her uniform pocket and a lollipop dangling from her lips. She tilted her chin lazily, looking down at him with disdain.
After a long pause, she smirked and replied slowly, her tone nonchalant: “Your ancestor.”
Zhou Xingyan’s expression remained unchanged—no anger, no irritation, not even a flicker of his eyelashes. He simply raised his eyes to look at the arrogant and defiant girl before him.
His calm gaze swept over the few strands of grayish highlights in her hair, traced the contours of her eyes, nose, and chin, then drifted down past her neck and collarbone, finally resting on the unzipped zipper of her open uniform jacket.
With his fair fingers holding the yellowed, low-quality paper of the clipboard, he flipped through two pages without haste.
It was only the first week of school, so most students were on their best behavior. There weren’t many latecomers, let alone someone who had managed to be late every day for four consecutive days. Apart from the habitual offenders whose names were already well-known among sophomores and juniors, unfamiliar ones…
Zhou Xingyan lowered his eyes and scanned through the handful of names listed: “Xiang Ge?”
The girl stared back at him silently, her dark eyes filled with irritation and an inexplicable hostility.
So this was her.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Zhou Xingyan’s lips as he picked up his pen and began writing on the clipboard, his head still bowed: “Zip up your jacket.”
“…”
The dark-eyed girl bristled with defiance, rolling her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Just like now.
Xiang Ge sat at the consultation desk, her long-lashed eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man in front of her.
Eight years had passed, and here he was, acting as if he didn’t remember her at all. Yet, his slip-up went unnoticed, and he still pretended to ask for her name.
What kind of general practitioner starts a conversation by asking, “Name?”
Xiang Ge narrowed her eyes slightly, curling her tongue between her teeth and biting down gently. Her slender fingers, painted with deep red nail polish, pushed the medical record toward him.
Zhou Xingyan looked up briefly, took the proffered record, and opened it.
He sat in his white coat behind the desk, the youthful softness gone from his features, replaced by sharp, mature lines.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was no longer the smooth, boyish tone of his youth—it was cold and detached.
Xiang Ge rested her chin on one hand, elbow propped on the table, and spoke slowly: “I sprained my ankle.”
She deliberately dragged out the last syllable, her voice soft and low, almost dissipating into the air. Then, she slightly raised her ankle.
The woman was slim, her bare foot showing prominent toe bones that tapered off near the edge of her shoe. Above her delicate ankle, there was a small bruise—not deep, but striking against her overly pale skin.
Zhou Xingyan nodded: “Let’s take an X-ray first to check if there’s any bone damage.”
Xiang Ge raised an eyebrow but made no move. Drawing out her words, she asked teasingly: “And if there’s no bone damage?”
“If it’s just a minor sprain, there’s nothing serious. Avoid putting weight on your foot for a week and be careful when walking.”
“And if there is damage?”
“We’ll assess the extent of the injury once we see the X-rays. Surgery may be necessary if required.”
Xiang Ge gave a soft “Oh” and continued questioning: “Which cases require follow-up visits?”
Inwardly, she thought, You don’t remember me? Keep pretending.
The man lifted his eyelids again to glance at her.
His gaze was cool and distant, as though he truly didn’t recognize her.
After a moment, his thin lips curled slightly upward, and his flat, unemotional voice responded: “Let’s start with the X-ray.”
“…”
So you’re really going to keep pretending.
Xiang Ge stared at him for a few seconds, unmoving. The man met her gaze without flinching. She pursed her lips, then leisurely stood up, clutching her medical record and offering a polite thank-you.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, but didn’t leave. Instead, she lingered for a moment, her eyes roaming around the room. With a playful flutter of her lashes, she added casually: “Does getting an X-ray hurt? If it does, I’d rather skip it. Just give me some medicine—I’m really afraid of pain.”
Zhou Xingyan: “….”
What should have been a quick exchange turned into a drawn-out process because of her antics. Eventually, she went to get the X-ray, and Xia Wei came over to help her out of the examination room. As they walked, Xia Wei quipped sarcastically: “What’s gotten into you?”
Xiang Ge glanced down at the doctor’s handwriting on the medical record without raising her head: “What do you mean?”
“You’re suddenly acting like a lovesick fool.”
“I’m not lovesick.”
Xia Wei snorted: “Oh.”
Xiang Ge closed the medical record, tilting her head and smirking: “He’s my first love.”
Xia Wei stopped in her tracks, turning to stare at her in surprise: “Your first love? Why didn’t I know about this?”
She and Xiang Ge had met in France, and although Xiang Ge later returned to China for university, they had been close for eight years—nearly a third of Xiang Ge’s life.
Xiang Ge shot her a flirtatious wink: “It just happened a moment ago—a sudden spark, thump thump thump. “
She mimicked the motion of a heartbeat.
“…”
Xia Wei rolled her eyes, feeling regretful for having taken her earlier question seriously.
The X-ray line was long, and the two of them sat on the hard metal chairs in the hallway, waiting. After taking the X-ray, they waited another hour to receive the results.
Xiang Ge wasn’t known for her patience—she usually wouldn’t tolerate waiting more than five minutes for anyone—but today was different. For over two hours, she showed no signs of impatience, even humming a tune.
The woman lounged lazily in the stiff hospital chair, her makeup impeccable and her beauty unmatched—from her facial features to her figure. Her long legs were crossed elegantly, and her slender fingers, painted with deep red nail polish, tapped rhythmically against her knee.
The scene would have been perfect, except the melody she hummed was off-key and vaguely reminiscent of Beijing’s Jinshan Mountain tunes.
It was enough to shatter any romantic illusions.
Xia Wei could barely stand to watch anymore.
When the time came, she retrieved the X-ray and helped Xiang Ge stand up. As she supported her, Xia Wei couldn’t help but shake her head and mutter: “Why do I feel like your housemaid?”
Xiang Ge didn’t respond. She took the X-ray from Xia Wei, extracted it, and limped forward while glancing at it with feigned seriousness. Without emotion, she nodded: “Looks like there’s bone damage. Definitely needs a follow-up.”
“…”
Xia Wei felt her eyes ache from rolling them too much.
Back at the examination room door, a patient had just exited. The two of them entered, and Xiang Ge sat back down, handing over the envelope.
Zhou Xingyan extracted the X-ray and held it up to the light.
Bathed in the glow, his prominent nose caught a subtle highlight. His gaze was focused, his dark eyes clear and bright.
His chin was slightly raised, and the line of his jaw tightened, exuding an unexpected sensuality.
Xiang Ge propped her chin on one hand, tilting her head as she watched him. A lazy smile played on her lips, and her eyes were slightly upturned. Her arm on the table slid forward imperceptibly, leaning her upper body closer until her torso nearly pressed against the edge of the desk. “Doctor,” she drawled lazily, “how bad is it?”
Her tone was anything but what one would expect from a patient.
“The X-ray shows no bone damage—just a sprain,” Zhou Xingyan said, slipping the film back into the envelope. He slid his chair forward slightly. “Lift your leg.”
Xiang Ge didn’t react immediately. Her upper body straightened, but she didn’t move otherwise.
Zhou Xingyan raised his eyes and repeated calmly: “Lift your leg.”
Xiang Ge arched an eyebrow, her fox-like eyes twinkling mischievously. “Only my boyfriend can touch a girl’s feet,” she teased lazily.
Unfazed, the man’s lips twitched slightly: “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor. Your boyfriend will understand.”
Xiang Ge raised an eyebrow, lifting her injured foot as she spoke: “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Zhou Xingyan didn’t respond further. One hand supported the back of her ankle while the other carefully removed her high-heeled shoe, setting it aside on the floor. His fingers gripped the bruised area of her ankle.
His hands were beautiful—long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles and fair skin. Faint veins and tendons were visible beneath the surface.
At this moment, those hands were holding her bare ankle, his fingertips cool against her skin. Yet, Xiang Ge felt a burning sensation creep upward along the path of his touch.
Xiang Ge blinked, her thoughts stirring subtly.
The toes of her captured foot curled slightly, brushing against the edge of his white coat. The fabric shifted faintly under the movement.
Zhou Xingyan’s fingers tensed slightly, gripping her ankle more firmly. Leaning forward, he lifted his head to look at her from below.
The woman met his gaze, her expression feigning innocence and confusion.
Zhou Xingyan’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly.
In an instant, he returned to his usual composed demeanor, releasing her ankle and sitting upright.
His voice was low, cold, and steady: “No major issues.”
Xiang Ge felt a small pang of disappointment. “Oh,” she murmured, lowering her foot slowly. After a moment, she persisted: “Are there any minor issues?”
Zhou Xingyan raised an eyebrow, swiveling his chair slightly backward: “Minor issues are just related to the sprain. Apply ice within 24 hours after returning home, then use heat to promote blood circulation afterward. Be careful, and try to avoid putting pressure on your ankle for a week.” He turned back to the desk to write the prescription, then handed it to her.
His eyelashes lowered slightly as his gaze fell back onto her pale foot, which was sliding into her shoe. After a pause, he added: “Don’t wear high heels.”
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