“Bro… brother?” Shu Qianzhi uttered in disbelief, her tone rising as the two words danced like joyful musical notes.
“Mhm.” Unlike her enthusiastic demeanor, the response from the other end remained indifferent. “What is it?”
Didn’t you tell me to call you?
And now you’re asking me what’s wrong?
Shu Qianzhi pouted, but her tone unconsciously slipped into a coquettish whine. “I missed you, brother—”
Though unintentional, her subtly alluring tone was particularly tantalizing, like dandelion fluff brushing past, deliberately tickling the heart before drifting away.
Ji Zechen clearly paused. Despite having countless words, they condensed into a simple, “Mhm.”
An automated response?
Shu Qianzhi massaged her temples in frustration.
But before she could rack her brains for another topic, she heard a question from the other end: “Have you eaten?”
Shu Qianzhi perked up instantly and replied immediately, “No! Brother, I’m hungry.”
“Wait for me.” With just two words, the other party hung up quickly. The dial tone echoed hollowly, yet felt inexplicably warm.
Clutching the phone in her palms, Shu Qianzhi inwardly rejoiced, kicking the blankets a few times in glee.
She could feel her relationship with Ji Zechen had progressed—he was actually starting to care about her proactively. Would the next scene be him descending like an angel, personally delivering the meal and feeding her bite by bite, while she clung to his arm, acting spoiled and snuggling up to him endlessly?
Of course, this was merely a scene from Shu Qianzhi’s imagination.
The next second…
Two knocks sounded, the bedroom door handle loosened, and the door slowly pushed open.
Shu Qianzhi lay obediently in bed, her gaze shifting to the person entering. She greeted him with a sweet, melodious voice she had prepared in advance: “Brother—”
However…
It wasn’t Ji Zechen who appeared at the doorway, but Wan Feng.
Shu Qianzhi fell silent immediately, her expression clearly reading “Why is it you?” as disappointment washed over her face, unconcealed.
Wan Feng didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He simply instructed someone to bring in the lunch and meticulously arranged everything for Shu Qianzhi.
Staring at him, Shu Qianzhi wore her boredom plainly, her face drooping. “Where’s my brother?”
“Master Ji is busy at the moment, but he personally instructed me to deliver these. Miss, you had a high fever last night—how are you feeling now?” Wan Feng spoke to her from the doorway, not stepping into the bedroom.
“I’m fine,” Shu Qianzhi replied, glancing at the IV drip still attached to her hand. She confirmed, “Was it brother who took care of me all last night?”
Wan Feng didn’t deny it. “Master Ji stayed with you until the early hours.”
Last night, during the meeting, Master Ji had seemed utterly detached from the girl’s condition, as if he truly didn’t care whether she lived or died. But when he returned and learned of her illness, he suddenly grew anxious, even keeping vigil by her bedside himself.
Having served Master Ji for so many years, this was the first time Wan Feng had witnessed such a side of him.
This softness, this tenderness—it really shouldn’t exist, yet Wan Feng felt an inexplicable sense of relief.
Shu Qianzhi’s eyes sparkled, and she beamed like the sun. “I knew brother cares about me the most.”
Wan Feng nodded and soon turned to leave, giving Shu Qianzhi some space to herself.
This time, Shu Qianzhi was unusually well-behaved. She didn’t fuss or demand to see her brother. Instead, she casually took a photo, edited it into a multimedia message, and sent it to Ji Zechen’s phone number—
“Thank you, brother, for the lunch you sent. It’s all Ze Xi’s favorite food. I hope you have a wonderful day too—”
She then promptly saved the number in her contacts, labeling it as:
My Most Beloved Brother.
……
Shu Qianzhi’s bedroom was on the first floor. From yesterday until now, the room had been tightly sealed off by floor-to-ceiling curtains, with only a few stubborn rays of light managing to slip through the gaps.
After eating her fill, she noticed her IV drip was empty and simply pulled it out. She got up, walked to the window, and drew back the curtains. Sunlight instantly flooded the room.
Behind the curtains was a glass door. Pushing it open revealed a small courtyard connected to the outer yard. Slipping on a pair of sandals, Shu Qianzhi pushed the door open and stepped outside.
Her feet touched the sun-warmed ground. The air was fresh, and everything felt vibrant and alive.
Unconsciously, Shu Qianzhi spread her arms, embracing the natural scents wafting toward her. She took a deep breath, savoring the moment.
After falling seriously ill last night, all her pain had vanished in an instant. Now, she felt exceptionally energetic—the most comfortable she had been since being reborn into this life.
It had to be said, the air here was truly refreshing. It was as if only here could she truly feel the breath of life, reminding her that she had been given a second chance.
She looked up, studying the structure of the entire villa, before her gaze settled on the figure standing by the second-floor window.
“Brother!” she called out joyfully, waving her hand and giving a little hop. Her entire being radiated youthful vitality.
This was a stark contrast to the lifeless version of herself in the hospital room just two days ago. It seemed this lively demeanor suited her far better.
The person on the second floor paid her no mind. After barely glancing at her for less than a second, he turned and disappeared from view, not even allowing her a longer look.
Hmph, still playing hard to get.
Shu Qianzhi pouted slightly. If Wan Feng hadn’t told her that he had personally stayed by her bedside all night, she might have been fooled by his aloof act.
But it didn’t matter. There was plenty of time ahead.
At the very least, in the short two days since her rebirth, she had already accomplished things she wouldn’t have dared to dream of in her previous life.
A swing chair was placed in the courtyard under a tree, perfectly shaded to avoid direct sunlight. It offered a warm, cozy space without being too harsh.
Without a second thought, Shu Qianzhi kicked off her sandals and lay down on the swing, rocking back and forth gently.
Her physical condition in this life was clearly quite average—not only was she highly sensitive to pain, but she also tired easily.
She wasn’t sure if this was a lingering effect of the car accident or a side effect of her rebirth, nor did she know if other discomforts might arise later.
But for now, the more important task was to carefully plan what she needed to do next.
Staying by Ji Zechen’s side and winning his heart was her top priority, but feigning amnesia wasn’t a sustainable strategy—sooner or later, she would be found out.
She wasn’t sure how much time she had left, but she had to seize every opportunity to secure a place by his side.
Besides that, she also had her own matters to resolve…
Some noise came from outside the courtyard. Sensing something, Shu Qianzhi immediately jumped off the swing and, without even bothering with her shoes, hurried barefoot to the railing. She leaned against it, standing on tiptoe to peer out.
There, Ji Zechen emerged from the villa’s main entrance, accompanied by several men in black. As the others stood by respectfully with hands at their sides, he prepared to get into the car.
Seizing the opportunity, Shu Qianzhi immediately waved and shouted toward that direction, “Brother, are you going out? Goodbye!”
Hearing the unusual commotion, everyone turned their gazes toward her. Even with sunglasses shielding their eyes, Shu Qianzhi could clearly see their disbelief at Master Ji’s “golden house hiding a beauty.”
A mischievous smile curled at the corners of her lips, and she waved even more cheerfully.
Ji Zechen’s gaze lingered on her for less than a second before he got into the car, never responding to her from beginning to end.
But Shu Qianzhi didn’t mind. She remained barefoot by the railing, watching Ji Zechen’s car until it disappeared from view before finally turning back to put on her shoes.
After Ji Zechen left, the entire villa seemed to instantly grow much quieter. Even the birds in the trees stopped chirping, and suddenly it felt a bit boring.
Swaying in the hanging chair for a while longer, Shu Qianzhi climbed down and returned to the bedroom, pushing open another door to step out. Her gaze fell upon the empty, silent villa.
Such a massive home, yet usually only Ji Zechen lived here alone. It was hard to imagine how quiet this place would become at night. If it were her, she definitely couldn’t stand staying more than two days.
She wandered like a tourist, observing as she walked. The surroundings were uniformly monochrome, so she tried to find any other colors in this sea of black and white.
Clearly, there were none.
The only color came from the distant peak blue nail polish on her fingertips.
Hearing some noise from the kitchen, Shu Qianzhi ambled over until she saw someone inside.
“Aunt Li,” she called softly. She recognized this person—the elder who had been taking care of her throughout her groggy state last night.
Though no longer as weak and helpless as in her previous life, she still felt a natural affinity for kind-faced people like Aunt Li who cared for her attentively, finding it hard to maintain any guard against them.
“Ah, you’re here,” Aunt Li smiled gently and beckoned her over. “I made some white fungus soup and was just about to bring it to you. Perfect timing.”
Aunt Li brought the soup to the table and guided Shu Qianzhi to sit down. “You just had a high fever last night. You need to boost your immunity now.”
Warmth spread through Shu Qianzhi’s heart, and she immediately sat obediently at the dining table, staring at the bowl of soup for a long time.