"How Childish"
The familiar sound, like an electric current, shot from her ear straight through her organs.
A cold draft slipped through the gap in the window and brushed against her forehead, easing her drowsiness slightly. The caller ID showed Hong Kong, an unfamiliar string of numbers ending in six threes.
It wasn't the Hong Kong number she'd been texting before—that one was saved under "Mr. Zong, Sponsor."
So who was the owner of this number…
Her mind was foggy with sleep, her throat thick and sticky: "Mr. Zong?"
He let out a soft laugh. "Was dinner to your liking?"
Certain now that it was Zong Xubai on the other end, her thoughts cleared considerably. Important people probably had multiple phone numbers—work and personal kept separate.
"It was. Thank you, Mr. Zong."
"Feeling any better?"
"A bit better."
"You're not lying to me?"
He Cheng pressed her hand against her throbbing stomach, biting the soft flesh of her inner lip, feeling a guilty sense that Mr. Zong was right there watching her lie. She was honest by nature—some questions, once asked again, she didn't dare deceive.
He laughed softly a few more times, his handsome face faintly traceable even through the phone: "How childish—can't even tell whether you're better or not."
His low voice was incredibly gentle, like coaxing a child, that deep magnetic rasp easily stirring the imagination. But He Cheng didn't let her mind wander—she knew Mr. Zong was a gentleman.
"I know. I just didn't want to deceive you. After a good night's sleep, I'll be fine tomorrow."
Zong Xubai spoke slowly, deliberately: "The doctor told you a good night's sleep would fix it? How will you recover without an injection or medicine? Dragging it out won't do you any good. Uncle Bing is already downstairs—he'll take you to see a doctor."
He Cheng's knuckles curled. She sat up in surprise, thin moonlight spilling through the glass window onto the edge of her bed, her entire figure bathed in silver, her haggard face gaining an unexpected softness.
She got up and walked to the window in the moonlight. The dim shadows of trees swayed below, and orange lamplight poured molten gold over a black sedan.
That car—either it had never left, or it had circled back.
Still in shock, she murmured: "I took medicine. You don't need to have Uncle Bing take me to the hospital."
"What medicine did you take? Taking it blindly?"
"I'm not taking it blindly. Lu Qi took the same medicine when she wasn't feeling well a couple days ago."
"He Cheng." Zong Xubai suddenly called her name in a serious tone, a hint of reproach in his voice: "You really are a child. You don't even know what illness you have, yet you follow someone else's medicine—and you say that's not taking it blindly?"
A single sentence woke her from her daze.
He Cheng's symptoms were nearly identical to Lu Qi's—vomiting, dizziness, stomach discomfort, weakness throughout the body. Neither had seen a doctor; they'd simply concluded it was acute gastroenteritis.
When the medicine didn't help, they assumed the illness had gotten worse—never suspecting they'd taken the wrong medicine.
She wavered, but still held her ground: "I have gastroenteritis, just like Lu Qi."
Zong Xubai heard her stubbornness and laughed helplessly: "Fine. Let's see what the doctor says in a bit."
He still intended to send her to see a doctor.
He Cheng refused again: "Really, there's no need. If I'm not better tomorrow, I'll go to the health clinic myself."
"Don't argue with me. See the doctor sooner, and you'll sleep better tonight." Zong Xubai breathed softly, then exhaled lightly: "If you don't come down, Uncle Bing will keep waiting there."
So composed, so reasonable, so domineering.
He Cheng choked on her words, lips parting as if to speak, then stopping.
Hong Kong's summers were long—even at the end of October, there was still no chance to wear a light jacket. Perhaps because she was sick, He Cheng felt very cold, a chill creeping up from the soles of her feet. She pulled a jacket from the wardrobe and went downstairs.
The warm breeze from the downhill slope of the dormitory hit her head-on, and she sneezed in discomfort.
Recalling Zong Xubai's forceful, unrefusable manner on the phone, her fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the leather seat.
Mr. Zong's kindness made her feel a trace of warmth in this foreign land, sick and alone—but his dominance made her shrink involuntarily, curling herself into the corner by the car door, playing with her phone.
Chatting with Ye Yanzhi.
Just trivial bits of daily life.
Eventually, Ye Yanzhi turned coquettish: [Don't want to study anymore. Want Chengcheng. Do you miss me? You've never said you miss me.]
He Cheng's face grew warm again. She did miss him—she'd thought of Ye Yanzhi while eating the food Mr. Zong had sent, and in her vulnerable moments of physical discomfort, she'd thought of him too.
[I do.]
Ye Yanzhi pressed further: [How do you miss me? How many times?]
He Cheng answered honestly: [Today Mr. Zong sent me food, and I remembered how you used to bring me food in high school too. The stuffed tofu, stuffed bitter melon, and mei cai pork the teacher cooked were so delicious.]
Ye Yanzhi: [Why did Mr. Zong send you food?]
That line stumped He Cheng. She'd expected Ye Yanzhi to reminisce with her, but instead his focus was on Mr. Zong sending her food.
The principle that one move affects the whole body was never more vividly demonstrated than at this moment. In a long-distance relationship, so many sorrows, joys, and fresh gossip couldn't be shared with the other person in time. He Cheng had originally intended to hide the fact that she'd eaten something bad and wasn't feeling well—she didn't want to worry him. But now, she didn't know what excuse to use to explain why Mr. Zong would send her meals.
"Kindness" seemed too flimsy.
He Cheng had learned to keep things brief and change the subject: 【Mr. Zong packed it for me on his way out. I didn't eat much.】
Ye Yanzhi: 【That Mr. Zong sounds like a nice person. Why didn't you eat more? Was it not good? You're not a picky eater, though.】
He Cheng: 【It's not that. I just miss the food you cook.】
Ye Yanzhi: 【Little foodie, you'll get to eat it when you come home for New Year's [head pat]】
【It's not my mom's cooking you miss—it's me. I miss you too [kiss]】
He Cheng: 【Smiley face jpg】
With Ye Yanzhi chatting alongside her, the physical fatigue and pain in He Cheng's body eased considerably.
During the gaps between red lights, Uncle Bing caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror of the young woman who hadn't moved since getting in the car, curled up in the corner in the same position, chatting with someone.
Ten minutes later, the car arrived at the underground parking garage.
Uncle Bing turned off the engine and looked back at the back seat. "Miss He Cheng, we're here."
He Cheng poked out her fuzzy, disheveled head, her dark eyes surveying the surroundings outside.
It wasn't the hillside villa.
It didn't look like a hospital either.
Stepping into a mirror-polished elevator, Uncle Bing pressed the top floor. The metal doors reflected both their figures, her haggard face clearly visible.
In the eerily silent space, not knowing where she was, a flicker of fear suddenly surged through her. Only then did He Cheng feel uneasy, wondering if she had been too trusting of Mr. Zong.
"Uncle Bing, where is this?"
Uncle Bing could see her nervousness and wariness—she had kept her head down the whole ride, and only now started to worry.
He chuckled softly. "This is Mr. Zong's apartment in Central, right next to HKU. He thought going all the way back to the Peak would be too tiring for you, so he chose somewhere closer."
"Mr. Zong's company is also nearby, so it's very convenient for him to come here. But he has plans tonight."
He Cheng understood—Mr. Zong wouldn't be at the place she was about to go. To be safe, she asked for the address and immediately sent it to Lu Qi, telling her to check in on her from time to time, so that if anything seemed off, someone could call the police.
The apartment had a private elevator—one unit per floor.
Only when standing at the door did she realize the apartment faced the sea in front and backed onto the mountain. The living room looked out directly onto the Victoria Harbour night view, with a panoramic view of the entire Sheung Wan and West Kowloon coastline.
Once, chatting with Lu Qi in the dorm's common area, they'd talked about how many people working in Hong Kong rented apartments in neighboring cities because Hong Kong homes were both small and expensive.
They'd also said the rich lived on the Peak, in Central, or in Deep Water Bay, while the poor lived in public housing and subdivided flats in Sham Shui Po, Yau Tsim Mong—wealth distribution was extremely uneven.
Lu Qi had said she wished she could own an apartment in Central, so she wouldn't have to suffer through the annual dorm application process and could study conveniently.
He Shuxia happened to be nearby and laughed at her for dreaming, saying even if she sold herself, she couldn't get through the gates of a luxury Central apartment, because some of the luxury properties in Central were never even listed for sale—to maintain their high-end exclusivity, you had to go through a qualification screening just to view them.
She wondered if this was one of those luxury homes that money couldn't buy, as He Shuxia had described.
The suite was decorated in a modern minimalist style. The living room was extremely large, extremely open, and extremely airy, with only two color tones—warm snowy white and steady ink-cloud gray.
It was his personal style.
Between the reception area and the dining room stood a massive butterfly screen made of glass. Hundreds of butterflies of different species and colors were arranged in graceful disarray, so lifelike they seemed ready to spread their wings and fly out of the glass.
The same sense of unease she'd felt the first time she visited Zong Xubai's villa resurfaced. Passing through three security checkpoints before seeing him had left her deeply impressed.
She hadn't expected that just one day later, she'd be walking into his luxurious apartment in Central.
Three family doctors were already waiting in the reception area, with some medical equipment beside them.
He Cheng felt immense pressure—this was making too big a fuss.
For a minor illness, he'd called in three doctors. Two female Western medicine practitioners drew several vials of blood—one sent it for testing, the other packed up the supplies.
The third, an older male practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine, took her pulse, examined her tongue coating, and asked about her condition. He said her spleen and stomach had yang deficiency and needed warming to dispel cold.
Uncle Bing was courteous to all three of them, and from the way they spoke, it was clear they had known each other for some time.
She sat upright in the single sofa, and while waiting for the test results, Lu Qi saw her message and asked what was going on.
He Cheng: 【Came to see a doctor. Was worried it might not be safe, so I sent you the address.】
Lu Qi: 【You're really cautious. Did you finish your medicine? Why didn't you call me? I could have come with you.】
He Cheng typed: I haven't finished it. Mr. Zong said I should see a doctor before taking the medicine. I'm at his apartment seeing the doctor now.
She looked at the message and felt something was off. Her relationship with Mr. Zong seemed so close, yet in reality, they weren't even friends.
He Cheng deliberated carefully, confirming the message had no issues before sending it.
Unexpectedly, Lu Qi's screen exploded with messages, sending several exclamation marks in a row.
She asked why Mr. Zong was so concerned about her, and started asking about what Mr. Zong looked like.
Some questions He Cheng herself couldn't answer, so she could only attribute it to Mr. Zong's kindness.
He Cheng: 【I told you before—the man at the high table dinner who clapped to help me out and gave me a blanket was Mr. Zong.】
Lu Qi was shocked again, saying why hadn't she mentioned such an important thing when she came back from the Peak yesterday.
【Rich, handsome, and kind—oh my god, what an incredible man. Wait, I have a feeling he's trying to pursue you?】
This passage made He Cheng frown, her heart suddenly pounding violently, like a balloon flying aimlessly in midair that had been popped, with no idea where it would fall.
She quickly and forcefully typed out a few words: 【He knows I have a boyfriend. Don't talk nonsense.】
Lu Qi let out an "oy oy" and said, "Alright, alright, I know you have a boyfriend! No more joking."
He Cheng: 【Mainly because Mr. Zong is of noble status. We shouldn't spread rumors behind his back. He's my sponsor, and we should respect him.】
Lu Qi: 【Fine, fine, fine, we'll worship him like a Buddha.】
The test results came back as food poisoning. The doctor asked her what she'd eaten and teased that she was lucky to be alive, having managed to tough it out for an entire day.
For a faster recovery, she needed an IV drip.
There wasn't much flesh on the back of her hand, and her skin was thin. The doctor quickly found a vein and inserted the needle.
Uncle Bing escorted the traditional Chinese medicine practitioner to the door, saying that a car had already been arranged downstairs and thanking Uncle Yuan for coming all the way from afar.
Uncle Yuan glanced past him at the young woman who had collapsed onto the living room sofa, exhausted, her eyes closed in rest. A meaningful smile spread across his face. "This is nothing. What's rare is that he needs me. I've watched him grow up, and I never knew he could be so thoughtful, even arranging nutritional supplements for a girl."
Uncle Bing also smiled. "Indeed. Live long enough, and you'll see everything."
Uncle Yuan waved his hand. "Alright, alright. Come by my place tomorrow to pick up the medicine."
While the IV dripped, He Cheng fell asleep from exhaustion, a thin layer of pale yellow light covering her eyelids. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the neon colors of Hong Kong's night. Inside the room, after a faint beep, a figure in white came to the sofa.
The IV bag was slowly dripping. She didn't look well.
But she slept beautifully. Warm orange light spread across her fair, tender face, catching the eye like it had been gilded with gold.
This peaceful sleeping face overlapped with the wary face she'd shown at noon when she'd retreated two steps after feeling his touch, and a sense of displeasure easily surfaced.
Zong Xubai leaned down, his straight legs taut and restrained. In this position, his hand landed accurately on her forehead, touching it gently.
It was warm.
The emptiness from his failed attempt to touch her at noon wasn't filled by this contact—instead, it felt even more hollowed out.
Zong Xubai composed his expression, his gaze traveling from her lashes to her cheeks to her lips. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, an abrupt vibration sounded at an inopportune moment.
It was the phone clutched in her arms.
Having fallen asleep, she'd lost awareness, and the phone was about to slip and fall. Zong Xubai caught it with lightning speed.
The lit screen displayed a WeChat message from someone named Ye Yanzhi.
【Calling Orange Orange, you haven't said goodnight to me yet today.】
That single line of text splashed into Zong Xubai's eyes. He narrowed them in displeasure, realizing this was the long-distance boyfriend He Cheng had mentioned.
He Cheng was still asleep.
He'd noticed earlier that her phone didn't seem to require a password. He tentatively swiped upward with his finger, and sure enough, the screen unlocked.
The wallpaper was a group photo.
The background was the shabby entrance of Xizhou No. 1 High School.
She had her hair tied in a high ponytail, wearing the loose blue-and-white spring-summer school uniform, holding a bouquet of colorful flowers in her hands with a shy smile. The boy beside her was a head taller than her, in a white T-shirt and jeans, with clean, crisp features and a sunny, toothy grin.
The two stood close together, the boy's right arm hanging at his side nearly touching her school uniform.
It must have been a graduation photo.
The flowers were tacky, but she looked beautiful smiling.
Her boyfriend could only be described as full of youthful vigor—very young, spirited and confident.
So this was the type she liked.
Zong Xubai glanced at He Cheng. She frowned at something, perhaps in a dream, a faint whimper escaping her throat.
That whimper landed in his ears like a feather lightly brushing against his heart.
【Orange Orange, Orange Orange.】
More messages continued to pop up at the top of the screen.
Zong Xubai's long lashes didn't move.
In the eyes of others, he was a gentleman of grace and refinement. Little did they know, he merely concealed his inner wickedness and corruption very well. If even one bad side rolled out, the good side would be devoured.
His noble exterior—his soul could not withstand judgment.
In the end, his curiosity won out over his pride-worthy cultivation and character.
He opened WeChat. In the chat list, Ye Yanzhi had 3 unread message red dots.
Zong Xubai flipped through a few pages. She didn't seem to mind talking about him in front of her boyfriend.
The three characters "Mr. Zong" were a bit glaring.
She didn't share her troubles, nor did she tell her boyfriend about being sick.
So she liked stuffed tofu, stuffed bitter melon, and Mei Cai Kou Rou.
She also liked the villa on the hilltop.
"Goodnight" and "I miss you" were always initiated by the boyfriend.
Long-distance couples seemed to rely only on verbal sweetness to ease their loneliness.
The conversations were all about trivial daily matters.
Zong Xubai's interest was drawn to the boy's profile picture. He opened it. Unlike He Cheng's profile picture, which was the bouquet of flowers from the wallpaper, his was a photo of He Cheng. It was taken from a slightly high angle—she was eating a cone of ice cream, looking up as if someone had called her name, her eyes sparkling, a bit of white ice cream at the corner of her lips, with the McDonald's M logo in the background.
Zong Xubai's thumb swept across the screen, his fingertip landing on the corner of her lips.
In the silent space, a soft, delicate whimper suddenly sounded. He lowered his gaze. The person lying on the sofa frowned, her long lashes trembling slightly, showing signs of waking.