Qiao Yu remembered the first time she met Jiang Zhan as a child. She was seven that year, and Jiang Zhan was eleven.
Her mother held Jiang Zhan’s mother’s hand, saying this was her good friend. Then she led the silent Jiang Zhan over and said, “A-Yu, be good and take your big brother out to play, alright? Mommy and Auntie have things to talk about.”
She smiled and took Jiang Zhan’s hand, softly calling him “big brother,” bringing him to see her favorite flowers and giving him her favorite candy. But he bit her right on the wrist, and she cried for over half an hour from the pain.
The second time they met, she was twelve and he was sixteen.
He came running over covered in blood, grabbed her hand, and collapsed straight to the ground. She was so frightened she had nightmares for days, ran a high fever for three consecutive days, and took over half a month to fully recover.
The third time they met was at his coming-of-age ceremony.
Grandpa Jiang, in front of everyone, handed him the seal that symbolized the heir’s status of the Jiang family. At that moment, she was quietly stuffing a piece of strawberry cake into her mouth. When she looked up, she happened to lock eyes with him on the stage, and was so startled she nearly choked to death on the spot.
The fourth time she saw him was on her seventeenth birthday.
That day she had made plans to go out with friends, but on her way there, he blocked her at the entrance of an alley and directly pulled her into his car. He did nothing at all—didn’t even say a word—but she was so scared she curled up in the corner and kept crying. He took out a box and handed it to her, but without even glancing at it, she slapped it out of his hand and onto the ground.
From that day on, Qiao Yu never saw him again. And so it remained, until the third year of the Apocalypse, when they were reunited in H City.
Qiao Yu also thought of all the ways he had taken care of her after their reunion in the Apocalypse, thought of how when she was captured and taken to the laboratory, he rushed over to save her with that pale face… thought of how at the very end of his life, when he was already riddled with wounds, he still used every last bit of strength to walk to her side, hold her, and gently press a comforting kiss to her ear…
Memories kept surging forth. Qiao Yu felt a sharp pain in her head, and all she could hear was what Jiang Zhan had said in that final kiss—”A-Yu, don’t be afraid”…
In that instant, all those handsome faces in her memories suddenly overlapped. The restrained, the cold, the gentle, the doting, the helpless… It really was A-Zhan. It was the living, breathing A-Zhan…
While Qiao Yu stood frozen, Jiang Zhan was also silently staring at Qiao Yu’s face.
Qiao Yu was looking at him.
This realization made his heart surge with emotion. Like a fish stranded on the shore for too long finally returning to the water, it was only at this moment that he felt he could truly breathe.
But when he saw the tears glistening in Qiao Yu’s eyes, his heart suddenly sank to the depths. How could he have forgotten? The girl he loved most in this world hated him the most.
The atmosphere was too quiet.
Jiang Zhan clenched his fists nervously behind his back and asked softly once more, “A-Yu, did you come looking for me?”
His voice was dry and low, but it struck like a sharp blade, piercing straight through Qiao Yu’s heart. She could no longer hold it in. She stumbled a few steps, threw herself onto Jiang Zhan, wrapped her arms tightly around him, and burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs.
Jiang Zhan’s body went rigid the moment she lunged into him. A flicker of complexity passed through his eyes, but what dominated was joy he could hardly contain.
The girl he had loved for thirteen years was now in his arms. Nothing in this world could bring him greater happiness than this.
But she was crying.
Jiang Zhan stiffly raised his hand and tentatively brushed it against Qiao Yu’s back. Only when he realized she wasn’t struggling did he slowly wrap his arm around her. “A-Yu, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
She shook her head, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, yet she still managed to force the words out: “I’m… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… A-Zhan, I’m sorry…”
Jiang Zhan’s eyes darkened. “Why are you apologizing to me?”
Qiao Yu shook her head vigorously. She had cried herself to the point of being unable to speak, but she still clung tightly to him, as if all of this were an illusion—as if the moment she let go, he would disappear.
The memories and emotions surging through her mind pulled at her from within, agitating her until her head throbbed with increasing pain. The ache made her body begin to go limp uncontrollably, and even a ringing sound started in her ears. The pain intensified relentlessly until it finally peaked in a single instant—and the next second, she lost consciousness.
Jiang Zhan was alarmed. He immediately scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the villa, settling her in his bedroom before dialing Cheng Sinian’s number.
Twenty minutes later, Jiang Zhan watched with furrowed brows as Cheng Sinian examined Qiao Yu, then asked in a low voice, “How is she?”
Cheng Sinian withdrew his hand, glanced at him, and gestured for them to talk outside.
Jiang Zhan gave Qiao Yu’s hand a gentle squeeze, tucked the blanket around her properly, and then rose to follow Cheng Sinian downstairs.
Knowing that Qiao Yu was fine, Cheng Sinian resumed his usual languid demeanor, lounging back on the sofa and casually picking up an orange to peel. “Don’t worry, nothing serious. She’s just sleep-deprived, and her emotions got too intense—she cried too hard and passed out from a temporary lack of oxygen to the brain. Let her sleep for a while and she’ll be fine.”
When Jiang Zhan remained silent, Cheng Sinian stuffed two orange segments into his mouth and continued, his speech muffled: “Zhan-ge, you didn’t go and do something behind her back that the little lady found out about, did you? Crying like that—anyone would think you seduced her and then dumped her.”
At that, Jiang Zhan shot him a dark look, scaring Cheng Sinian so badly that he nearly choked to death on the orange segments, coughing violently.
Jiang Zhan watched Cheng Sinian cough in silence, and only when the latter had somewhat recovered did he speak in a low voice: “The moment she arrived, she hugged me and cried.”
And so Cheng Sinian choked again.
“Cough, cough… what did you say? Cough… cough… you’re saying Qiao Yu hugged you?” Talk about pigs flying. Cheng Sinian coughed so hard the veins bulged on his forehead, but he still insisted on confirming whether he’d misheard.
Jiang Zhan didn’t answer. He simply looked at him quietly, his expression seemingly devoid of emotion, but as Jiang Zhan’s personal physician and longtime friend, Cheng Sinian could still sense the silent disdain radiating from him.
By the time Cheng Sinian finally recovered and his brain managed to regain function, he realized his focus had been rather off-track. He changed tack and asked, “Zhan-ge, aren’t you having people tail her? Did nothing out of the ordinary happen?”
Jiang Zhan thought of the large quantity of items Qiao Yu had purchased a few days ago. He didn’t answer, but his expression turned rather complicated.
Cheng Sinian was long accustomed to his coldness and didn’t take it to heart. He was just about to take his leave when he heard Jiang Zhan suddenly speak in a low voice: “New Year is coming soon. Move back home for a while—and don’t go to the hospital either.”
Cheng Sinian was taken aback. “But there’s still…” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Jiang Zhan staring straight at him with furrowed brows, and immediately backed down: “Alright, Zhan-ge. I still have scheduled patients for the next two days. Once I finish my consultations the day after tomorrow, I’ll apply for annual leave.”