He Qi slept until late morning, waking still groggy, sore, and weak.
She got out of bed, her breathing slightly labored, rubbed her eyes, and left Chen Jin’s room. Breakfast was on the table; the sweet fermented taro balls she had eaten half of last night were gone.
She floated back to her room, washed up, but still felt unwell, and took a short nap.
Chen Jin had already left for Guang Province, leaving her completely alone for the next five days. She then made an extensive reading list of nearly all the notable classic children’s literature works.
She resolved to do nothing but read, letting these classics inspire her.
Perhaps due to the cold, her appetite was poor and she felt uninterested in everything. She kept the curtains closed and spent days glued to her iPad reading.
Only when her stomach protested would she order food, but due to nasal congestion, she could barely taste it. She usually took a few bites, then drank her cold remedy.
But the medicine didn’t seem to help much. This time, her illness came on fiercely. By the late hours of the 7th, He Qi felt every breath through her nose like a flickering flame. She woke with difficulty in the heat, realizing she had a fever.
Her whole body ached. Supporting herself, she sat up in the darkness and switched on the light.
The thermometer was in the medicine cabinet in the living room. She sat on the cold tile floor and measured her temperature in her ear: 38.4°C. Luckily, the cabinet also had some fever medicine. She swallowed a pill according to the instructions, didn’t tell anyone, and sluggishly went back to bed.
The next day, after sleeping through the morning, He Qi’s fever had indeed subsided. She forced herself to eat a few bites and thought this was a sign of recovery, so she didn’t rush to the hospital, planning to observe a bit longer.
Until 2 a.m., she awoke again from spinning dreams, stumbled into the bathroom, and vomited a little water. Touching her burning forehead, she realized she probably needed to see a doctor.
38.9°C. He Qi stared at the thermometer, threw it back into the cabinet, and forced herself to look for her health insurance card in her room.
She hadn’t been to the hospital for a while. Her head was dizzy, and she couldn’t remember where she had put it. She searched all the usual spots, but found nothing, collapsing onto the sofa in exhaustion.
Staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, her discomfort became hard to ignore; her head started to ache faintly. He Qi felt herself losing it a little and grabbed her phone to call Chen Jin.
The phone rang a few times before he answered, his voice hoarse from being woken: “Hello?”
“Where’s my health insurance card?” He Qi got straight to the point.
“It’s in the second drawer of the nightstand in my room.” Chen Jin’s voice came with the sound of a light turning on. He was probably sitting up. “You’re sick?”
“Fever.” He Qi’s voice was weak. She floated into Chen Jin’s room, sitting heavily on the floor, and pulled open the drawer to search.
A soft “tsk” came from the other end, sounding a little troubled. “You look first. I’ll call my parents and see if they can come.”
He Qi didn’t respond. She heard the call hang up and focused entirely on a small box in the drawer.
The box neatly contained a thick stack of cards. He Qi was surprised by all the different cards Chen Jin had collected and started flipping through them one by one.
The first few were bank savings and credit cards, followed by a few supermarket and snack chain membership cards. Then came beauty, hair, and nail salon cards—ones she had signed up for near campus during university. She rarely used them after graduating and thought they were lost. Flipping further, she found various amusement park recharge cards.
He Qi marveled at how well Chen Jin had kept these things. Honestly, she would never have remembered where these cards were unless she suddenly needed them.
At the last two cards were both of their health insurance cards.
Neither of them had ever replaced theirs, so the photos were still essentially the same as when taken in elementary school. Both of them were thin, eyes bright, staring straight into the camera, looking like little monkeys.
He Qi found it amusing and coughed out a laugh. At that moment, her phone rang again.
It was Chen Jin calling back. She answered on speaker.
“Did you find the card? My parents didn’t pick up; maybe their phones aren’t in the room,” Chen Jin said quickly, tired and anxious, with a deep helplessness in his voice.
He Qi put her health insurance card in her pocket, still sitting on the floor. “Found it. It’s fine, I’ll take a taxi myself. It’s so late; your parents would take a while to get here anyway.”
Chen Jin asked again, “Can you call Li Jiajia? It’s not safe for you alone.”
“I’ll try,” He Qi said, hanging up. She first placed a ride request on the taxi app, then sent Li Jiajia a voice message.
Honestly, she didn’t expect much. She knew Li Jiajia usually put her phone on silent before bed. Sometimes after drinking heavily and passing out at home, her parents didn’t even know if she was still in the country.
The ringtone echoed in the empty room for a long time. Just before it automatically hung up, Li Jiajia answered.
He Qi was a little surprised, but the loud music in the background immediately chilled her.
As expected, Li Jiajia slurred into the mic, clearly drunk: “He Qi? What’s wrong?”
He Qi exhaled deeply, unsure if she should say anything, and instead asked, “Were you drinking out today?”
“Yes!” Li Jiajia yelled, afraid she wouldn’t hear clearly. “I had to teach for four or five days straight. Those kids are little monsters!”
He Qi was silent for two seconds, about to speak, when Li Jiajia continued: “Why are you calling me at this hour?”
He Qi checked the ride app—no drivers yet. Feeling frustrated and oddly pitiful, she pressed her dry, fevered lips together. “Seems like I have a bit of a fever.”
Li Jiajia reacted after two seconds, remembered Chen Jin wasn’t around, cursed softly, and the background noise grew louder, as if she was escaping a crowd to a quieter spot.
“Can you get a ride? I’ll see if any friends can come get you.”
“Not yet.”
“That’s odd. Even though rides are scarce at this hour, it should be easy enough there…” Li Jiajia paused mid-sentence, fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, “Fang Yi posted on Moments two minutes ago.”
He Qi froze. She clicked into Moments and saw Fang Yi’s text-only post from two minutes ago: just three words: Super hardworking.
Probably staying up late for schoolwork.
Both were silent for a moment. He Qi tossed her phone onto the floor, exited WeChat, and stared at the ride app’s timer ticking up, the radar circle scanning outward.
She despondently closed her eyes and muttered, “Screw it, let me burn up already.”
Then another call came in. He Qi instinctively declined it.
Chen Jin asked: “What did Li Jiajia say? Did you get a ride?”
“She’s drunk. No ride yet,” He Qi said irritably, wanting to just take some medicine and sleep until morning before going to the hospital.
“I’ll send a subordinate to get you. Might take a while.”
He Qi didn’t want to trouble anyone, especially a stranger subordinate of her boyfriend. Her forehead burned with fever; she opened her mouth to scold him.
But before she could speak, a WeChat notification popped up at the top:
Fang Yi: Sister, I can be there in seven minutes.
Seeing it, He Qi froze. The irritation in her throat dissipated, and she let out a weak sigh. “Never mind, I got a ride.”
Chen Jin was caught off guard and paused. “Okay, send me the license plate number. Stay on the line with me.”
“It’s Li Jiajia’s friend,” He Qi said. “You rest. I’ll call Li Jiajia.”
Chen Jin seemed about to say more, but He Qi had already ended the call.
“Mainly because Tong University is really close to you. Even a taxi wouldn’t be faster. You need to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
Listening to Li Jiajia cautiously explain over the phone, He Qi canceled the taxi order. “I know. It’s fine. I just don’t want to trouble him; he’s not family, and he’s so young.”
Li Jiajia said “Mm,” analyzing the nuance: “What a coincidence. Once your brother-in-law is back, you should treat him to a proper meal.”
He Qi sighed again, sending Fang Yi a message:
“Once you reach the complex, register at the security desk. Unit 7, He Qi. The security guard will guide you.”
“Okay. I’ll message you when I arrive.”
Seven minutes later, He Qi, nearly delirious from the fever, wrapped in a thick coat, went downstairs. Opening the unit door, the cold wind hit her, and she coughed relentlessly.
A Mercedes with hazard lights on waited at the entrance. The security guard and Fang Yi shielded her from the wind on either side and helped her into the back seat.
He Qi closed her eyes, half asleep as if dreaming, throat hoarse from coughing, still managing to thank Fang Yi: “Thanks for helping me.”
Fang Yi frowned seeing her flushed face in the rearview mirror. “Sister, if you’re tired, lie down first. I’ll drive faster.”
By the time they reached the hospital, He Qi’s fever had reached 39°C. After the ER visit, she had to get blood tests. Fang Yi stayed with her, even buying her a fever patch along the way.
By the time the blood results came out, it was nearly 3 a.m. She needed an IV. If everything took until dawn, she felt bad making Fang Yi wait. While the needle was inserted, she tried to persuade him: “You should go back, Fang Yi. Don’t miss your classes. I’ll treat you another day.”
Fang Yi hung her IV bag in a free spot and sat in the nearby seat. “I’m not leaving. I don’t have class tomorrow.”
“No class doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest. It’s so late.”
“Then I’ll sleep here.” Fang Yi immediately closed his eyes, a little rogue-like.
Since he had already helped her so much, He Qi didn’t want to chase him away. She cared for him, but seeing him refuse to leave, she said nothing.
Just then, her phone buzzed—it was Chen Jin. She sat beside Fang Yi and picked up with one hand.
“How’s it going?” Chen Jin asked, voice clear.
“Getting an IV at the hospital,” He Qi replied. “You didn’t sleep?”
“Can’t. Is someone with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then take a short rest. Have someone watch the IV bag.”
“Okay.”
He Qi hung up. Fang Yi, sitting beside her with eyes closed, suddenly asked, “Is he… your boyfriend?”
Fang Yi had asked about her relationship before, but since he had just helped her, He Qi didn’t want to be harsh.
She said, “Yes.”
Fang Yi asked again, “Are you two close?”
“Pretty good.”
“Have you been together for a long time?”
He Qi’s head was still feverish, and the discomfort made her emotions unusually volatile. She looked at him with a slightly impatient glance, answering indirectly, “You’re eighteen this year?”
Fang Yi nodded, not understanding.
He Qi realized: “I was already with him when I was your age.”
Fang Yi paused for a moment, then showed a mixture of resignation and irritation: “It’s been so long and you still haven’t married?”
“I’m against marriage,” He Qi answered honestly.
This was a new understanding between them, but Fang Yi didn’t continue the topic.
He lowered his gaze to his phone, seemingly replying to someone’s message: “Jiajia keeps sending me WeChat messages; she seems worried about me staying with you.”
He Qi thought to herself: should I even be worried?
But outwardly she remained calm: “She’s just been messaging me too, worried about us. You’re Li Leyi’s friend; she sees you as half a nephew. How could she not be concerned?”
Fang Yi turned off his phone and stayed silent.
He Qi was relieved to have some peace and soon dozed off, exhausted.
When she woke up, daylight had already arrived. She instinctively touched her neck—her temperature was back to normal, and the IV in her right hand had already been removed.
She turned her head and saw Fang Yi still sitting there, arms crossed, nodding off, his removed coat draped over her.
Still groggy from sleep, He Qi observed him for a moment, suspecting that his neck might snap from nodding so much.
“Fang Yi,” she softly called to wake him, returning the coat. “Do you want to sleep a little longer?”
Fang Yi rubbed his eyes, half-closed, scanning the surroundings, remembering where he was. He straightened up: “You’re awake. I’ll take you back, then.”
He Qi sincerely thanked him for his help. Before getting off the car at home, she thanked him again, but he seemed reluctant.
She didn’t know what to do and simply said she would treat him to a meal next time, reminding him to stay safe on his way back.
“Send me or Li Jiajia a message when you get to school.”
Hearing this, Fang Yi’s expression relaxed: “Got it. Go upstairs quickly; it’s windy outside.”
He Qi nodded and turned to leave.
She hadn’t yet seen Fang Yi’s message reporting he arrived safely before she fell asleep on her bed.
After an unknown amount of time, she was once again woken by heat. Thinking it was another fever spike, she tried to move but found herself almost immobile.
As her senses gradually returned, she realized someone was holding her tightly. She opened her eyes and saw Chen Jin’s face.
She frowned, suspicious: “Chen Jin?” She pushed the man wrapped tightly around her on the bed. “Why are you at home?”
Chen Jin stirred awake from her movement, keeping his arms around her: “I was worried, so I came back early.”
He Qi hadn’t expected that. She twisted to change position: “Worried about what? You already came to the hospital, and I got my fever down after the IV.”
“Mm,” Chen Jin mumbled half-asleep, “We should properly thank your friend—what would be appropriate? Perfume? A silk scarf?”
He Qi, still fuzzy from sleep, imagined giving these things to Fang Yi and instinctively found it silly: “Why give gifts for a woman?”
The arms around her waist tightened suddenly, and He Qi snapped awake.
Chen Jin’s voice vibrated clearly behind her: “Not a woman?”