[Offset Value: 13%]
—In that fleeting moment… did you ever long to be seen?
Most of the time, the pharmacy was just this quiet and empty.
The pharmacist, dressed in white, leaned against the counter, idly scrolling through her phone.
Even when someone walked in, she only lifted her head slightly.
“What do you need?”
“Iodine and cotton swabs.”
Hearing that, the pharmacist asked, “Is the wound serious?”
When she noticed the long red mark on the boy’s face, her lips pressed together ever so subtly, as if to say, “Is there really any need to treat something this minor?”
Fortunately, she didn’t say it out loud.
The two items were tossed onto the glass counter with a smack. Then she lowered her head again, returning to her phone, no longer paying them any attention.
—Thank goodness.
Zhu Shuiwen pulled the boy over to sit nearby.
Throughout the entire process, He Xueqi behaved like a puppet being moved around at will—strangely obedient.
Even when the slightly stinging iodine swab touched his skin, his expression didn’t change, as if he were already used to this kind of pain.
“How did this happen?” Zhu Shuiwen asked carefully.
The boy’s eyes returned to that lifeless dullness as he replied, “I got it by accident.”
Feeling uneasy, she probed again, “Your mom and your aunt… they both seem really nice.”
“Mm.”
“Your younger brother is cute too.”
“Mm.”
“Are you close with your brother?”
“More or less.”
…Are you made of stone? I can’t get a word out of you no matter what!
Zhu Shuiwen sighed heavily to herself. Since he clearly didn’t want to talk, she had no choice but to drop it.
She handed him the remaining iodine and cotton swabs. “Take these back and apply them again later.”
“Thank you. I’ll transfer you the money later.”
For some reason, that made Zhu Shuiwen a little irritated. Without thinking, she replied, “Sure, no problem. But… you helped me with so many questions—how much should I pay you?”
He Xueqi fell silent for a few seconds, then obediently accepted the items. “Alright. Thank you.”
—So, he wasn’t going to bring up money anymore.
She had been ready for a back-and-forth tug-of-war, but hadn’t expected to reach her goal so easily. For a moment, Zhu Shuiwen almost couldn’t believe it.
The villain… actually gave in!
But before her smile could spread, his next sentence dragged her straight back down.
He took out his phone and said casually, “Let’s add each other.”
Seeing her suddenly stiffen, his deep eyes fixed on her as he said, word by word:
“Didn’t you say you’d be ‘keeping in touch’ with me often, Classmate Zhu?”
…In the end, she had to rely on sheer typing speed to hastily register a brand-new account.
Her face had never been this thick-skinned before. Especially the moment she sent the verification request—when the account details popped up, a half-star glared beneath the username.
—Which meant the account hadn’t even accumulated two hours of total login time.
She said nothing. He said nothing.
But Zhu Shuiwen could clearly feel an indescribable atmosphere spreading between them.
She felt like she should explain something—but before she could, He Xueqi, with an almost admirable level of indifference, calmly accepted her friend request.
Nervously, she tried to salvage the fragile relationship between them—or rather, between her sister and him.
“If you ever need help, just tell me anytime.”
“Alright, I will.”
He responded perfectly—but—
[Offset Value: 13%]
There was no change at all.
He hadn’t taken it to heart. It was just polite perfunctory talk.
No… perhaps the sincerity in her words had also been interpreted by him as the same kind of unspoken politeness.
…Considering she had just created such an obvious burner account, that interpretation wasn’t exactly unreasonable.
Zhu Shuiwen still wanted to make one last desperate attempt. She couldn’t help asking the question she had been mulling over for a long time:
“How… would you like me to treat you? I mean, what can I do to make you a bit happier?”
It was a rather sudden question. Maybe his unusual politeness and cooperation had given her the nerve to “overstep.”
He Xueqi paused for a moment, then replied in his usual tone, “This is already fine, Classmaster Zhu.”
Liar.
“I don’t feel unhappy about anything.”
Big. Fat. Liar.
If there were such a thing as the art of brushing people off, He Xueqi would definitely be a level-ten master.
Zhu Shuiwen had no choice but to accept a frustrating truth—
She knew that when she said something, she meant it. But most people weren’t like that.
So He Xueqi could only interpret her words the way most people would—adding layers of socially expected meaning that weren’t actually there.
It increased the cost of communication, but it was tied to something essential: human dignity.
In the end, she gave up on the awkward small talk.
This time, the villain walked her all the way to the bus stop, watching as she got on.
Zhu Shuiwen sat down on the bus. As the announcement—“The vehicle is now departing”—played, the neon lights outside the window streaked backward, dissolving into blurred bands of color.
Before long, the boy’s thin figure was completely swallowed by the night.
She shifted her gaze away from the window, letting it fall onto the blue seat in front of her.
Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around herself, burying her head as her body began to tremble slightly.
Only after everything had ended, in the absence of others, did her delayed reaction finally erupt.
It was terrifying.
Her hands felt numb; she tried to press her sweaty palms against her legs, but failed.
Her knees kept knocking against the seat in front of her, producing dull, repetitive thuds.
The lingering fear spread through her chest. Only then did she realize that ever since she walked in, her eyes had been fixed on the boy’s hands.
She had been afraid.
Most people could build friendships through conversation—but He Xueqi was definitely not part of that “most people.”
He was like a polite machine. External disturbances barely caused any ripple in him. Whether it was offense or concern, his attitude remained the same.
No expression on his face. No change in tone. No movement in his eyes.
She even suspected that placing the villain’s hand on a sizzling hot iron plate might not look much different from handing him a bouquet of flowers.
…Was this kind of mechanical, inorganic coldness something he was born with?
Even the adult He Xueqi in her dream felt more like a real person than the boy—at least when she refused to cooperate, the adult version had clearly shown something akin to irritation.
She really had been… too naive.
How could she have assumed that the villain’s descent into darkness only began after the story started?
Her sister had to face someone this dangerous…?
She almost didn’t dare think any further. Her mind, gone blank, clung to a single question—
Had she given herself away in front of him?
The girl desperately replayed every move she had just made, her teeth chattering against each other as she bit down on her lip—only loosening when the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
Why did the villain’s attitude toward her change so drastically after the “knife sharpening”? It was probably because—at that moment, she hadn’t realized what it meant for that knife to be in the bag.
Her slow reaction had saved her.
If the villain were to find out that she actually knew what he intended to do…
What would happen?
And her older sister, who knew nothing—would she…
No. Impossible.
The broadcast went on, addressing passengers who didn’t need it: “The vehicle ahead is turning. Please hold on to the handrails and watch your step—”
Her hand dropped limply, as if drained of all strength.
Her sister was a genius. She would definitely handle things with ease—she would never end up in such a sorry state like her.
She thought.
The 13% value flickered with a pale blue glow, intertwining with the neon lights, gradually dissolving into the band of light until it became indistinguishable from nothingness.
…
“Sister, I’m taking Rui Rui to his English class. He needs glue for art class tomorrow, and we’re out at home—go buy some.”
Her aunt pulled on a windproof hat and gave the order in her usual tone.
Xu Huifeng had been trying to get the squirming child’s shoes on. Hearing that, she hesitated. “I haven’t washed the dishes yet… Could you buy it yourself?”
“It’s almost time—where would I find the time to buy it?” her aunt rolled her eyes. “By the time Rui Rui finishes class, the stationery shop will be closed. Won’t that affect his class?”
“But…”
“Just have Xueqi wash the dishes.”
Xu Huifeng hesitated. “That… wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?”
That girl had just emphasized how important the competition was, and she had been thinking maybe she shouldn’t call her son for chores these next couple of days.
“He doesn’t have anything to do today anyway—no classes, no homework. He even went out to play for so long tonight. How much effort does washing a few dishes take?”
She didn’t believe that nonsense about “discussing competition problems” at all. The boy had probably just wanted to avoid looking after his younger brother, so he ran off on a date with some girl.
And even had the girl cover for him—only a fool like Xu Huifeng would believe that!
Impatient, she snapped, “Xu Jiarui, how long are you going to dawdle? Do you know you’re wasting your mother’s money?”
The child immediately stopped fussing and obediently let Xu Huifeng put his shoes on.
Before leaving, her aunt, face stiff, threw out one last remark: “Sister, don’t be lazy and try to make He Xueqi go buy the glue—I’ve realized that kid won’t do anything for me. He’s impossible to order around.”
Even though Xu Huifeng usually obeyed her younger sister without question, she was still taken aback by that blunt accusation of “being lazy.”
But the door had already shut the next second, leaving her with no outlet for her irritation.
All she could do was knock on her son’s door.
“Qiqi, Mom has a task for you.”
To be honest, at that moment, Xu Huifeng was afraid her son would repeat what she had said before: “Focus on your studies, don’t worry about anything else.”
She had made that kind of empty promise on a whim more than once, but…
It wasn’t that she meant to break her promises—reality simply didn’t allow it, did it?
Fortunately, her son didn’t make things difficult for her.
Perhaps knowing it would be useless to argue, he merely looked at her with a cold gaze for a moment—maybe a few seconds, maybe not even that long—before heading to the kitchen.
The eye contact was so brief that Xu Huifeng didn’t even have time to feel guilty.
(Of course, when she later returned and found that Xu Jiarui’s bowl had been set aside in the sink, unwashed, that was another matter.)
Hearing the sound of running water, and thinking of the cut on her son’s face, a sudden wave of guilt rose into her heart.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know her son had been wronged—but this bit of guilt would have no effect the next time she had to choose between her son and her nephew.
She would still choose to side with her nephew.
Not for the high-sounding reason she always gave—“an older brother should give way to his younger brother”—but because—
Xu Huidan would make a scene, Xu Jiarui would make a scene, but He Xueqi would not.
And so, sacrificing him became the most natural thing in the world.
It was that simple.
As for He Xueqi himself, he wasn’t feeling any of the negative emotions his mother imagined.
By now, he had already returned to his usual calm, washing dishes while mentally reviewing the plans that had failed one after another today.
Back in Rongjin Alley, his emotions had indeed fluctuated quite a bit—for no other reason than that, in order to push Su Qiming to the brink of losing control, he had forced himself to catch a cold and run a fever for five days.
Only when the other party was nearly driven into a corner did he bring cash to meet him.
Everything had gone smoothly, until…
The girl suddenly appeared, interfering, causing all his earlier preparations to go to waste.
But no matter what, he still had to thank her.
Thanks to her unexpected return, Xu Jiarui had not come to harm.
It was probably the high fever that had left his body still somewhat weak; his tolerance was a little lower than usual.
Over the past few years, he had been constantly reminding himself of one thing: endure.
He had long since made his plans. Once the college entrance exams were over, he would apply to universities in other provinces—the farther from Fuhai, the better.
During the school term, he would focus on his studies; during winter and summer breaks, he would busy himself with company internships. That way, for four whole years, he wouldn’t have to go home at all.
And now, there was nothing he could do except—
Endure.
Just endure for one more year, and his life would settle down, returning to what people called normal.
He hadn’t actually intended to kill Xu Jiarui. He only wanted to make him bleed a little, feel some pain, so he’d learn to stay out of his way in the future and grant him a bit of temporary peace.
Of course, whether that “temporary” meant a month, a week, or just a day—no one could say.
But after being interrupted by the girl, he realized there was a major flaw in that plan.
Xu Jiarui was easy enough to deal with, but his mother was not someone to be taken lightly.
Even in front of the police, he was confident he could leave no trace of wrongdoing, but…
those tactics wouldn’t work on Xu Huidan.
She had her own self-contained logic. Even if everyone told her, “This was an accident,” she wouldn’t believe it.
Just like before—when he had missed several of her calls, she had decided it was intentional. So he had simply made that “crime” real and never picked up again.
If anything were to happen to Xu Jiarui, in her agitation, she would most likely ignore all evidence and cling only to the “truth” she had imagined.
“You made my son end up like this—you’ll serve him like a slave for the rest of your life.” That was probably how it would turn out.
Sometimes he felt a deep disgust at how vividly he could predict his aunt’s behavior. It felt like indirect proof of just how long he had endured.
“Shhh—”
A gentle stream of water flowed over the semi-transparent medical gloves, washing the grime off the dishes until they returned to a clean, pale white.
In other words, if he wanted to deal with Xu Jiarui, then he would have to… deal with Xu Huidan as well.
His hand paused slightly. But soon enough, his reason forced him to abandon the thought.
…Forget it.
Two people around him running into accidents in such a short time—that would be far too obvious. The police in Fuhai weren’t fools.
Su Qiming was still ticking like a time bomb. There was no need to create extra trouble.
A heavy breath slowly rose from his throat. He brought out the words he had told himself more than ten thousand times and silently repeated them again.
Endure.
Just endure until the college entrance exams are over.
He had already lasted so many years—what was one final year?
He thought this with indifference.
Only…
Since he had endured for so long before, why was it that today, of all days, he couldn’t hold back?
—“Classmate He, you’re hurt.”
The girl’s fingertips landed lightly near his wound. The faint sting was gradually overtaken by an unfamiliar itch.
Crack.
It was as if a thin layer of ice had shattered. The dense fog surrounding her suddenly receded.
His field of observation had always been broad, but in that moment, it was as if her movements had completely captured him—he could see no one but her.
Her head tilted slightly upward, moonlight softly draping over the tips of her hair. Her fine brows were knit with concern, and in her pupils was reflected his startled expression.
Clink—
The dish that had already been washed clean slipped abruptly from his hand and fell into the sink.
The accumulated foam surged forward, scrambling to cover its surface, staining it once again with a restless kind of mess.
Why… had she appeared at such a perfectly timed moment?
As he realized he was once again overthinking, an indescribable disgust intertwined with a tempting urge to simply let himself go, making him even more aware of how abnormal he felt right now.
He clearly knew that the girl’s appearance was most likely just a coincidence, but…
That same stubborn obsession that made Xu Huidan so unbearable seemed to have long lain dormant deep within his bones through his bloodline, wearing the skin of a normal person all these years.
Until the warmth of her fingertips touched him, and that “monster” suddenly revived in his blood at an unprecedented, terrifying speed.
With an urgent and unfamiliar intensity, it urged him to seize that minuscule possibility, as if doing so would justify forming more connections with her.
“That girl’s so pretty—you don’t have any thoughts about her?”
“No thoughts.”
Water struck the dishes at the bottom of the sink with a clatter, like noise that didn’t belong in a heartbeat.
No thoughts?
…Now there were.
It wasn’t fair that she seemed to understand everything so clearly, yet used a fake name to brush him off—that was far too unfair, Classmate Zhu.
He thought to himself.
Fishing the fallen dish back up, he once again pondered a question—
—Why did she insist on calling herself “Zhu Feifei”?
Although he wasn’t close to anyone in the class, and in theory it didn’t matter who she claimed to be—he wouldn’t treat her differently based on a name—
Still, what special reason had made her choose to impersonate “Zhu Feifei”?
The image of that half-star new account flashed through his mind.
In fact, he and Zhu Feifei had already added each other as friends—more than half the class was on his list—it was just that they never spoke.
The girl clearly didn’t know this.
And yet, she knew that Class Six’s homeroom teacher was “Teacher Huang,” and that competition papers had to be applied for by the students themselves.
Most importantly—
When he called her “Classmate Zhu,” even if she was distracted, she would respond without thinking.
Which meant that, most likely, she really did have the surname “Zhu.”
He took off the wet disposable medical gloves and picked up his phone.
The screen shifted to the group chat, his gaze settling on the newly added member.
“Hello everyone, I’m Zhu Shuiwen. I just transferred here—looking forward to being part of Class Six from now on [bunny bow].”
He had originally planned to let her off.
But instead, she had come rushing headlong into his territory again in a fluster.
So this time, it wasn’t his fault.
Classmate Zhu.