Ji Zechen remained silent, merely taking a tissue to wipe his fingers as if the giant sticker-like presence beside him was nothing but air.
Seeing this, Shu Qianzhi immediately leaned her head closer, pouting her lips to press her advantage. “Wipe my mouth.”
“Don’t you have hands?” Ji Zechen’s voice was deep.
She promptly displayed her bandaged hand. “It hurts.”
“Hah…” You didn’t seem to feel any pain when you were clinging to me earlier, but now suddenly it hurts enough to serve as an excuse?
Nevertheless, Ji Zechen indulged her small request, taking a clean tissue to wipe the oil stains from her lips.
Wan Feng had already grown numb to it all.
Their Master Ji had been acting so abnormally these past two days that “abnormal” no longer sufficed to describe his state.
One might even say he’d lost his mind.
Having eaten her fill and even enjoyed the privilege of being fed, Shu Qianzhi had accomplished in just a few days what she wouldn’t have dared imagine in her previous life. But her ambitions clearly extended further—she wanted to be with Ji Zechen every moment.
She tightened her embrace around him, whispering softly in his secure hold, “Brother, are you going to abandon me again? I don’t want to leave you, and I don’t want to stay here alone. I’m scared.”
Perhaps sensing her considerable ambitions, Ji Zechen’s expression darkened, losing its earlier gentleness. “Then what do you want?”
“I want to go home,” Shu Qianzhi replied without hesitation, blinking her pitiful eyes. “Brother, take me home, please? I don’t want to stay here anymore.”
By now, Ji Zechen had realized something was amiss, convinced he’d been played by this woman before him.
All traces of affection vanished as he abruptly withdrew his hand from her embrace, instead gripping her wrist and pinning her against the wall.
He warned her sternly, “Don’t try any tricks with me. Either stay here quietly, or get out.”
Almost simultaneously.
Shu Qianzhi’s tears fell with a patter, landing precisely on Ji Zechen’s hand, her expression helpless and pitiful.
She didn’t speak or even move, yet Ji Zechen found himself unsettled by her once again.
“What are you crying for?” Staring at the teardrop on his hand, Ji Zechen felt himself teetering on the edge of irrationality, instantly annoyed with himself.
Shu Qianzhi’s lips trembled slightly as she uttered a single word, “Hurts…”
Ji Zechen froze, his gaze falling on the hand gripping her. He had indeed been aggravated earlier, applying more force than intended, momentarily forgetting her injuries.
He immediately released her hand, forcibly suppressing his anger.
Rubbing her sore wrist tenderly, Shu Qianzhi’s tears continued to flow uncontrollably.
It genuinely hurt—who knew how much strength he’d used? Never mind that she was a patient with serious injuries, even someone in perfect health couldn’t withstand such treatment.
Moreover, since returning to this life, something had gone wrong—she’d become extremely sensitive to pain, where even minor injuries left her half-dead with agony.
Sitting on the hospital bed while cradling her hand, Shu Qianzhi pouted and grumbled, “Brother, you have no idea how to cherish the fairer sex. You’ll never find a girlfriend like this.”
Wan Feng: …
Damn, even at this point she could still say something like that—he’d willingly call her a warrior.
Ji Zechen massaged his temples with a headache, feeling somewhat helpless against her.
The hospital room fell into silence once again, each of the three lost in their own thoughts. Before long, the pain in Shu Qianzhi’s body faded, and seizing the opportunity, she immediately spoke up again, “Brother, I want to go home.”
Sweet and soft remained her signature tone, but there was a hint of seduction in her trailing voice, subtly tugging at one’s heartstrings.
“Tch…” Ji Zechen cursed inwardly.
…
There were four people in the car, and aside from the driver, the three passengers were in completely different states of mind.
Shu Qianzhi was ecstatic about winning her gamble, Ji Zechen was replaying his own inexplicable reactions, and Wan Feng—
“I don’t get it, I just don’t get it.”
Although he was always compassionate and deeply sympathetic to the girl’s plight, even protesting Ji Zechen’s cold-heartedness over it, now he was actually planning to take an amnesiac girl home, fulfill all her requests, even personally feed her and wipe her mouth.
He couldn’t help but start speculating about Master Ji’s true intentions.
“Brother, the sunlight is so bright today, so warm.”
“Brother, look at that cloud—it’s shaped like a heart.”
“Brother, that balloon is so pretty, I want one too.”
Shu Qianzhi leaned comfortably against Ji Zechen, her exclamations occasionally filling the car’s interior. Whether anyone responded or not, her next remark would always follow on schedule.
“Brother, I’ve forgotten my own name.” Her fingers idly played with Ji Zechen’s hand as she looked up into his eyes, blinking repeatedly. “What’s my name?”
Ji Zechen: …
How could he possibly know?
“I don’t know,” he replied irritably, his gaze fixed outside the window, thinking he should send this person away as soon as possible.
Everything he did around her was abnormal, often beyond his control, as if she had cast some spell on him. Keeping someone like this close was extremely dangerous.
“Ah.” Shu Qianzhi nodded as if understanding, a smile playing on her lips. “So my name is ‘Don’t Know’.”
Ji Zechen’s inner thoughts at that moment: Is this person insane?
…Well, she probably is.
Not wanting to be pestered like this, he let out a heavy sigh and casually made up a name to brush her off. “Ji Zexi.”
Ji Zechen, Ji Zexi—together, they formed “Morning Light.”
Shu Qianzhi secretly rejoiced inside.
She was actually surnamed Ji! He had completely accepted her as his little sister. How wonderful.
She would stay by his side as his sister for now—close to him, near him, accompanying him.
When the time was right, she could always switch roles later.
…
Banyan River in the capital was unequivocally an affluent area, located in the suburban part of the city, nestled against mountains and water, surrounded by natural scenery. Ji Zechen owned a sizable villa here, lavishly decorated.
Shu Qianzhi hadn’t expected Ji Zechen to bring her here, as he had another place of his own in the city center. That location was undoubtedly more convenient, and he stayed there more often.
But this place was quiet and comfortable, filled with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers—an ideal spot for recuperation. Moreover, it would help her avoid running into the Shu Family, making it undoubtedly the best place for her.
The only downside was that she couldn’t be sure she would get to see Ji Zechen every day.
Shu Qianzhi stared out the window with her large, sparkling eyes, letting out an inadvertent gasp of “Wow.”
Ji Zechen’s gaze fell upon her, a faint trace of mockery barely perceptible at the corners of his brows.
The car came to a smooth stop in the villa’s courtyard. Wan Feng was the first to step out, respectfully opening the car door for Ji Zechen. Without the slightest hesitation, Ji Zechen stepped out indifferently.
Meanwhile, Shu Qianzhi showed no intention of getting out just yet. Unhurried, she extended her hand, her crescent-shaped eyes fixed on Ji Zechen. “I want big brother to hold my hand.”
After a moment of silence, Ji Zechen, defying all expectations, actually reached out. His warm, broad palm enveloped her slender hand as he pulled her out of the car.
Though his movements were anything but gentle, Shu Qianzhi still smiled sweetly, her voice dripping with affection. “Big brother is the best.”
Her voice remained as innocent as ever, just as Ji Zechen’s behavior remained utterly baffling.
Wan Feng: These eyes of mine have already seen too much.
Ji Zechen didn’t respond to her words, merely letting out a soft hum as Shu Qianzhi clung to his arm, pressing herself tightly against him.
And he tacitly permitted all her actions.
“Master Ji, this…” The Butler, hearing the commotion, hurried out from inside the house only to see an unfamiliar woman nestled against Ji Zechen. He couldn’t quite grasp the situation.
“Prepare a room,” Ji Zechen instructed calmly.
The Butler naturally had no objections. “Yes.”
Seeing the opportunity, Shu Qianzhi immediately spoke up, “Big brother, will my room be next to yours?”
“Uh…” At her words, both Wan Feng and the Butler paused in their steps simultaneously.
This time, Ji Zechen clearly showed more displeasure. He warned her in a low voice by her ear, “I advise you not to play games here.”
Bringing her home was already the biggest concession he could make—a gesture of gratitude toward his savior who had lost her memory because of him and ended up in the hospital. But deep down, he knew this person was far from simple. Keeping her close would make it easier to investigate her.
That was all.
But Shu Qianzhi acted as if she didn’t understand his meaning, looking at him in confusion. “Games? Like the stuff in the circus?”
Wan Feng couldn’t hold back a snicker but was silenced by Ji Zechen’s glare.
“Behave yourself,” Ji Zechen coughed twice, reclaiming his authority.
“Mm-hmm,” Shu Qianzhi nodded immediately. “I won’t listen to anyone but big brother.”
“Uh…” That didn’t quite seem to be what “behave” meant.
But Ji Zechen had no interest in correcting her.