OS - 13

Cheng Wanyue had promised Zhou Yu that she would visit Yan Ci the next day, but she only remembered in the afternoon. On the way, she picked up some spicy hot pot as a treat.

She knocked on his door so loudly that even the neighbors across the hall poked their heads out to see what was going on. Only then did Yan Ci reluctantly open the door.

His illness made his already-decadent demeanor more pronounced. His neck was flushed with an unnatural red, and his eyes were wet and glistening.

At the moment he opened the door, Cheng Wanyue caught a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. The fuller the moon, the sooner it wanes; the fuller the cup, the sooner it spills over. The more he tried to hide his feelings, the more obvious they became. The fever medicine on the table had only been taken once—clearly, he had been waiting for someone. The flicker of disappointment when he saw it was her revealed exactly who he had hoped for.

The TV was on, playing a variety show. The house wasn’t particularly quiet. Yan Ci sat on the sofa, his gaze indifferent as it rested on the screen. Much of Cheng Wanyue’s tolerance for his harsh attitude stemmed from pity, especially when he appeared this vulnerable—it stirred her compassion.

Cheng Wanyue stayed with him for a while, asking if he wanted to go to the hospital. He ignored her. She asked about the meaning behind the letter “Y” tattooed on his lower back—he ignored her again.

“It’s not ‘Yan,’ is it? Tell me, and I’ll help you.”

Yan Ci shot her a cold glare. “Mind your own business.”

“This is precisely why I admire you—keep it up,” Cheng Wanyue said without the slightest irritation. In fact, her affection for this handsome, strong, yet tragic young man grew even stronger. She grabbed a thermometer, stuck it into a cup of hot water, and when the temperature rose sufficiently, she took it out and snapped a photo with her phone. “Don’t worry—I’ll definitely show this to Zhou Yu.”

Cheng Wanyue opened the door just as Qing Hang was about to knock, nearly bumping into him.

The smell of spicy hot pot was potent, spreading throughout the hallway. Qing Hang furrowed his brow.

“Foods with strong flavors aren’t suitable for sick people.”

“What’s wrong with spicy hot pot? When I have a fever, that’s exactly what I crave. My mouth feels so bland it could grow birds.” Cheng Wanyue immediately bristled at his comment. “Who wants your plain rice porridge?”

She gave Qing Hang an impatient glance, pushed past him, and headed downstairs.

Her flowing hair brushed against her shoulders as she walked. Qing Hang could almost detect a hint of her fragrance amidst the spicy aroma of the food. Her steps were light, their echoes audible, and through the gaps in the staircase railing, he could catch glimpses of her red figure. She loved wearing red—bold and fiery.

Cheng Wanyue had arranged to meet Zhou Yu at her house in the evening. Thinking Cheng Yuzhou might be bored alone, she invited him along as well.

When Cheng Yuzhou learned that she had just come from Yan Ci’s place, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had gone there intending to take advantage of his vulnerability, though her plan hadn’t succeeded. “Are you falling for him too?”

“Liking one person is boring—I prefer to like many.” Cheng Wanyue zoomed in on the photo. “Hmm, 40 degrees seems a bit unrealistic. This won’t fool Zhou Yu—I need to Photoshop it.”

“What photo? Let me see.”

“The thermometer. Zhou Yu has such a soft heart—this trick works best.”

Cheng Yuzhou took the phone she handed him. After realizing which “trick” she was referring to, he promptly deleted the photo—and even the backup.

“Why did you delete it?!” Cheng Wanyue exclaimed.

“Not on purpose,” he apologized. “I’ll get to work now—you can sit here.”

With that, Cheng Wanyue let it go. “Good.”

Zhou Yu’s house was near the train station. Few trains passed through the tunnel, so many middle school students liked to gather there to play. Along the way, Cheng Wanyue and Cheng Yuzhou encountered two groups of people.

Liu Fen had planted some vegetables in her garden. There were too many tomatoes to eat, so Zhou Yu invited Cheng Wanyue to come pick some.

Cheng Wanyue was wearing new shoes, so she opted to sit under a tree while Zhou Yu took Cheng Yuzhou to the vegetable patch.

Cheng Yuzhou picked two tomatoes first. Zhou Yu had initially wanted to tell him that the ones grown at home were pesticide-free and safe to eat directly, but after reconsidering, she decided to lead him to the sink to wash them.

The faucet was faulty, and Zhou Yu didn’t have time to warn him before he loosened it slightly. A sudden burst of water sprayed out, soaking half of his T-shirt.

“Do you want to dry off?”

“No, it’ll dry soon.” Cheng Yuzhou wiped the water from his face, washed one tomato thoroughly, and handed it to Zhou Yu. “Better?”

Zhou Yu hesitated for a few seconds before reaching out to take the tomato, its surface still glistening with water droplets. With her other hand, she touched the back of her head. “It doesn’t hurt as much as yesterday, but I still have to sleep on my side.”

“Spray the medicine a few more times.” Cheng Yuzhou washed another tomato and tossed it toward Cheng Wanyue. “Catch!”

Cheng Wanyue caught it and bit into it.

Zhou Yu went over and sat beside her. “Has Yan Ci’s fever gone down?”

Cheng Wanyue deliberately sighed dramatically. “No, he’s still burning up. I went to see him out of kindness, but he didn’t appreciate it at all—he even told me to leave.”

They happened to be facing the direction of the vegetable garden. Cheng Yuzhou stood out in his white T-shirt amidst the lush greenery.

Zhou Yu had been worried about Yan Ci, but as Cheng Wanyue spoke beside her, her attention shifted to Cheng Yuzhou.

“Doesn’t my brother have nice hands?”

Long, strong, and with distinct knuckles—they were indeed good-looking.

“And he doesn’t seem to have any fat around the waist, right?”

The white T-shirt, dampened by water, had become somewhat translucent. As the wind blew, it clung to his body, revealing faint outlines of his abs.

“And his butt looks pretty firm too.”

Zhou Yu didn’t look.

“And his legs are long.”

At 186 cm tall, of course they were long.

“He comes from a wealthy family, has a great face and physique, and isn’t bad in character either. It’d be a waste to let outsiders snatch him up. Rather than waiting for him to be targeted after school starts, I should find a friend who suits him. Having a first love like my brother wouldn’t be a bad deal.”

Cheng Wanyue had many friends, including several beautiful girls. Zhou Yu averted her gaze and looked down at the tomato in her hand. “Didn’t you say he just got out of a relationship?”

“That was a lie—nothing happened.”

“…Right now, studying is more important.”

“He’s smart enough that dating won’t affect his studies.” Cheng Wanyue already had someone in mind. “What do you think of Gao Rui?”

Zhou Yu knew Gao Rui too—the prettiest girl in the art class. “She’s great.”

Cheng Yuzhou came over carrying a small basket of tomatoes. “What’s great?”

“Wanyue and I think a classmate suits you,” Zhou Yu said, winking at him. “She’s an art student—not at all inferior to the child star who supposedly hurt your feelings. She’s talented and beautiful. What do you think?”

Zhou Yu remained silent, but she could feel Cheng Yuzhou’s gaze lingering on her.

“How beautiful is she? If she’s less attractive than you, forget it.”

“Of course I’m more beautiful!” Cheng Wanyue failed to notice that he was looking at Zhou Yu when he said this—or that the “you” in his sentence wasn’t referring to her. “Why do you only care about looks? So shallow! I despise you!”

Cheng Yuzhou replied, “That’s how men are.”

“Did you hear that, Ah Yu?” Cheng Wanyue’s tone changed completely. “Never let shallow men deceive you in the future. You deceive them instead! Lure them in with your beauty until they’re hopelessly in love with you, then dump them mercilessly.”