Throughout the afternoon, the image of Jiang Qiao’s swollen ankle kept surfacing in his mind.
When the final class ended and students filed out one after another, Lu Xun returned to the classroom after helping the teacher deliver assignments, only to find Jiang Qiao still there.
The classroom windows were open, the fan whirring noisily. Jiang Qiao was sleeping with her head on the desk, the strands of hair over her forehead swaying gently in the breeze.
Lu Xun averted his gaze, yet his peripheral vision instinctively drifted to her ankle. The redness hadn’t subsided but had instead turned bluish, standing out starkly against her fair skin.
She hadn’t applied any medicine.
In the few seconds he was lost in thought, Jiang Qiao woke up and happened to meet his gaze.
“Are you done with your work?” Jiang Qiao yawned, her eyes still misty with sleep.
The emotion in Lu Xun’s eyes receded, replaced by his usual aloofness. “Mm.”
Still drowsy, Jiang Qiao trailed behind him like a young chick, until her forehead bumped against his solid back, bringing tears to her eyes.
Lu Xun had stopped at some point without her noticing. He asked in a low voice, “Why are you following me?”
“For a date,” Jiang Qiao blurted out, only to feel a belated sense of embarrassment. She quickly tried to justify herself: “People in relationships go on dates.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”
“Of course,” Jiang Qiao said, her inexplicable competitive spirit flaring up again. “I told you before—lots of people like me.”
“Heh.” Lu Xun let out an ambiguous laugh, his tone unreadable. “Impressive.”
Jiang Qiao: “………………”
Did he think she couldn’t tell he was being sarcastic?
Lu Xun stood by the bus stop, his peripheral vision catching Jiang Qiao squatting tiredly at his feet, curled up into a small ball.
His fingers, holding his phone, paused briefly. After a moment, he unlocked it.
A few minutes later, a taxi pulled over by the roadside. Jiang Qiao glanced at it enviously—if only it were here to pick her up.
Lu Xun was both poor and stingy when it came to her. He probably wouldn’t even spare two yuan for her bus fare, let alone pay for a taxi.
Jiang Qiao lowered her head gloomily, thinking how noble she was to endure such hardships for love.
That bastard Lu Xun!
She was grumbling inwardly when, the next second, the taxi door opened. Lu Xun walked to the car and held the door. Jiang Qiao was still looking down.
He frowned, his tone impatient. “Young lady, what are you still squatting there for?”
Huh?
What?
Jiang Qiao looked up. Her dream had come true. She stood up too quickly, nearly stumbling, but managed to steady herself. She hurried into the car as if afraid Lu Xun might change his mind.
Lu Xun’s slightly raised hand lowered imperceptibly, and he got in after her.
During the ride, Jiang Qiao suggested several locations she had just asked her friends about—all renowned dating spots.
Lu Xun kept his eyes closed and didn’t respond.
After getting out of the car, she finally understood why he had been so calm.
The taxi’s destination had been set in advance.
Staring at the familiar place before her, she twitched her lips. “You brought me here for a date?!”
Jiang Qiao could hardly believe Lu Xun had taken her to the Red Pavilion.
If it were anyone else, she would have suspected ulterior motives—that they were trying to take advantage of her.
But if it was Lu Xun… well, she couldn’t rule out suspicion either!
“You followed me here yourself. This isn’t a date,” Lu Xun succinctly refuted her question at its root.
Fine, fine. It was her fault for tagging along shamelessly.
Jiang Qiao scrunched up her pretty face. “Then why did you come here?”
Lu Xun: “Work.”
Jiang Qiao: “…………………”
She instinctively glanced at Lu Xun’s lips—the bruise had already faded, leaving no trace of the previous injury.
Lu Xun, perhaps noticing her gaze, pressed his thumb against the corner of his mouth.
Jiang Qiao’s confidence wavered: “Then why didn’t you tell me in advance…”
“Would it have made a difference?” Lu Xun shot her a glance that clearly implied: Even if I had, would you have stayed away?
Jiang Qiao fell silent. Indeed, Lu Xun had seen right through her—even if he had warned her beforehand, she would have followed him anyway.
Her current persona was that of a shameless, clingy leech.
While Lu Xun went to change clothes, the hotel manager happened to come by to collect reports. Startled to see Jiang Qiao sitting on the sofa, he exclaimed, “Miss Jiang, why are you sitting here? Let me check Young Master Peng’s private room number for you…”
He assumed Jiang Qiao had come looking for Peng Yang.
Jiang Qiao kept sneaking glances toward the staff break room and listlessly shook her head. “No need.”
The manager, confused by the situation, wanted to inquire further.
But Jiang Qiao, who had been languid moments before, suddenly brightened, a smile spreading across her lips. “Lu Xun.”
Following her gaze, the manager saw none other than the aloof and handsome Lu Xun. Dressed in a white shirt and black suit pants, he had shed some of his youthful rawness, standing tall like a graceful poplar tree.
The manager’s eyes widened as he glanced between Jiang Qiao and Lu Xun, muttering under his breath, “What’s going on here?”
Lu Xun paused while rolling up his sleeves. “It’s nothing. Just pretend she doesn’t exist.”
The manager: “………..”
Pretend she doesn’t exist?! As if she were some random stray!
“Don’t forget how you got beaten up the other day,” the manager gritted his teeth in reminder.
Having worked in bars for years, he’d seen plenty of people tormented by love—but he never expected someone as cold and detached as Lu Xun to be so irrational.
“……..I haven’t forgotten.”
Surprisingly, Lu Xun replied without any emotion.
The manager decided not to meddle further and left after a few more instructions.
During the two hours of Lu Xun’s shift, Jiang Qiao ate three plates of fruit and ordered takeout twice to be delivered to the hotel. She was picky with her food—after just two bites of Crab Roe Noodles, she complained it was too greasy and insisted Lu Xun finish it.
When Lu Xun ignored her, she threatened to file a complaint.
After her third warning—”If you don’t eat this, I’ll have your manager fire you”—Lu Xun’s expression darkened. He picked up the slightly cooled noodles and mechanically shoveled them down, his movements brisk and detached, as if eating plain steamed buns.
He was merely completing a task.
Once he started, the rest came more easily. Blueberries, Millennium tomatoes, shredded chicken congee—whatever Jiang Qiao fed him, he ate without protest.
At one point, Jiang Qiao dozed off. When she woke and didn’t see Lu Xun, she was about to ask someone when she spotted him walking in from outside. He had changed out of his work uniform and was carrying a plastic bag.
Noticing her gaze, he subtly shifted the bag behind his back.
“Why didn’t you wake me when you got off work?” Jiang Qiao complained, oblivious to his furtive movement.
Lu Xun replied flatly, “I forgot.”
Forgot?! How could you forget something like that? Why not forget yourself while you’re at it!
Was she, a living person, really that invisible?
The frustration she had bottled up all day finally boiled over. Jiang Qiao stormed off without checking if Lu Xun was following.
Of course he wasn’t—Lu Xun would be thrilled to see her go.
Jiang Qiao felt somewhat disheartened, both aggrieved and disappointed. A withered yellow leaf from the Chinese parasol tree fell by the roadside, and she stomped on it as if venting her frustration.
Still unsatisfied, she was about to stomp again when a familiar, cold voice sounded behind her: “Did the leaf offend you?”