Because of that unfortunate angel topic, Xi Shi's soul drifted out of her body for quite a while in the elevator lobby.
It wasn't until she and Lin Youhe went their separate ways and headed home that she belatedly remembered with some regret—she'd forgotten to lure her target back to her place for a sleepover.
Oh well.
Next time.
Xi Shi switched on the living room light. By the floor-to-ceiling window stood a desk nearly six feet long.
Beside the desk legs sat two empty wine bottles. On the desk surface were an empty coffee cup and a stack of bra design sketches.
She walked over and ran her fingers over the patterns on the drawings, her fingertips picking up a trace of pencil residue—dusty gray, very much like the color of summer in her memory.
Actually, Xi Shi hadn't eaten dinner before leaving for the theater. She often couldn't tell hungry from full and had little need for food. The last time she'd eaten like a normal person was probably half a month ago, when she'd had hand-cooked matsutake chicken soup with rice noodles and pumpkin steamed ribs at Lin Youhe's place.
What food she'd survived on every day since, Xi Shi herself couldn't quite remember.
Outside the window, the snow fell thicker and thicker.
In the dead of night, Xi Shi suddenly thought of the wound at the corner of Lin Youhe's lips—the scab had coagulated into a deep reddish-brown, the swelling stark against his cold-pale skin.
Sticking up for students between the school and colleagues?
That didn't seem like a very smart move.
Xi Shi picked up her phone and sent Lin Youhe a WeChat message:
[Be careful not to get water on the wound at the corner of your mouth.]
[Thanks for the stage play. Good night.]
Unexpectedly, Lin Youhe hadn't replied even by past one in the morning.
The next morning around nine-something, Xi Shi vaguely heard commotion outside her door in a half-awake, half-asleep state.
She wrapped a shawl over her nightgown, walked to the door, and switched on the electronic peephole:
Several people stood in front of Lin Youhe's door—security guards in uniform and property management staff in their vests.
"Mr. Lin—"
One staff member knocked on the door: "Mr. Lin, are you home? Mr. Lin?"
Xi Shi's brows drew together slightly. She pressed down on the handle and pushed open her door. Before she could even ask what was happening, the security door across the way was already pushed open by Lin Youhe from inside.
Lin Youhe stood at the doorway in a loose white short-sleeve shirt and light gray trousers, his broad, even shoulders making even the soft, slouchy loungewear look crisp and sharp. He raised a hand to adjust his glasses and said "good morning" to the three or four people at his door.
Xi Shi's brows gradually relaxed. She leaned against her doorframe with her arms crossed, quietly watching the show.
The staff member said cheerfully: "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Lin. Yesterday we—"
Lin Youhe seemed to be listening to them, but his gaze drifted past the crowd and met Xi Shi's across the few meters between them.
Xi Shi quietly raised one eyebrow.
The household that had lost their Ragdoll cat had accidentally let the cat escape again. Rather than admitting their own carelessness, they were instead demanding the property management take responsibility.
Apparently, because the Property Service Contract promised 24-hour surveillance and security patrols, and a camera in one spot was broken, the family claimed this was the key reason the cat couldn't be found—making a scene and demanding the property management compensate them for the cost of the cat.
That Ragdoll was very expensive.
The property management had no choice but to ask in the residents' group if anyone had seen it.
The staff member said: "This time we're really grateful to you for helping find that cat—otherwise who knows how much trouble there'd have been. We heard you were injured, so we came to bring some medicine and fruit."
Xi Shi's fingertips tapped rhythmically against her arm.
From what the security guard and property staff were saying—last night, when Lin Youhe hadn't replied to her message, he'd gone out in the snow to look for the cat?
Lin Youhe waved his hands repeatedly: "This wasn't from last night."
The security guard pushed the items toward Lin Youhe's chest: "Oh, don't be so modest!"
Lin Youhe only accepted the family first-aid kit printed with the community clinic's name; the fruit he asked the security guard and property staff to take back for themselves.
After they left, Lin Youhe walked over to Xi Shi and explained sincerely, saying that by the time he'd seen her WeChat message yesterday, it was already very late—he'd wanted to let her rest well and was afraid of waking her, so he hadn't replied.
Lin Youhe said: "And today's Saturday again—I wasn't sure what time Miss Xi would get up, so I didn't want to disturb you."
He paused. "Did you sleep well last night?"
Then he turned his head aside, covering his mouth with his hand, and coughed several times.
"Not bad."
Xi Shi asked: "Did you catch a chill?"
Lin Youhe smiled gently: "Maybe. It's not contagious—don't worry."
After his coughing fit, Lin Youhe's voice was a bit hoarse.
Xi Shi studied his tired yet gentle face and the thin, soft loungewear he was wearing, and couldn't help feeling that the man before her was even easier to get into bed right now.
Then Lin Youhe said: "I made some congee. If Miss Xi hasn't had breakfast, would you like to come over and have some?"
Xi Shi calmly withdrew her gaze from the scab at the corner of Lin Youhe's lips and said with a smile: "Going to freeload a meal at a sick person's house feels so sinful."
Lin Youhe laughed hoarsely: "Just a mild chill."
The snow had stopped, but the sky hadn't cleared. Outside the window, there was a gloomy, damp feeling in the air.
Xi Shi sipped her congee and asked: "What made you think to help look for the cat?"
Lin Youhe shook his head helplessly. "That family doesn't seem too interested in looking for it—they just want compensation. The property management staff are all complaining; they probably won't seriously search for that poor little animal either. The wind and snow outside are so heavy…"
He let out a hoarse sigh and didn't continue.
Xi Shi stared at Lin Youhe with a subtle expression for a moment.
Just as expected of someone who grew up near a church.
She didn't tell Lin Youhe that a family like that—one that repeatedly loses their pet and only thinks about compensation—wouldn't treat the pet well even if it were found.
Lin Youhe asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Xi Shi suddenly raised her hand and touched Lin Youhe's forehead.
Lin Youhe asked gently, "Do I have a fever?"
Xi Shi nodded. "Seems like it."
Perhaps because she'd just discovered that Lin Youhe's voice sounded nice even when he was sick, or because he'd helped a student and rescued a cat, or because she'd eaten congee he'd cooked while running a fever—after the meal, Xi Shi lingered a little longer at Lin Youhe's place.
She watched him take a fever-reducing pill, and extracting information came as naturally as breathing: "Are you still in the homeowners' group?"
Lin Youhe tilted his head back to swallow the warm water and the pill, answering honestly without a trace of suspicion: "A friend added me."
Lin Youhe said that Chen Chen had been studying and living abroad for years, which made many things inconvenient to handle. Even if Lin Youhe eventually moved away, he could still help Chen Chen with some of the mundane matters back home.
Xi Shi looked thoughtful. "What kind of person is your friend?"
Lin Youhe thought for a moment. "A bit foolish. He's been scammed out of a lot of money helping old people cross the street."
Xi Shi's emotions were complicated when she left Lin Youhe's place.
She didn't know Chen Chen at all—the only person she wanted to retaliate against was Chen Lintian.
She had inevitably directed a great deal of misplaced anger and resentment toward Chen Chen, who enjoyed a privileged life because of Chen Lintian…
If she could get close to Chen Lintian through Lin Youhe, then she could avoid contacting and hurting Chen Chen.
Chen Chen was innocent, after all.
But then again—wasn't Lin Youhe the most innocent one of all?
Thinking these things, Xi Shi walked slowly toward the second bedroom and pushed open the door. A plain ceramic urn sat quietly on the windowsill, facing the gloomy sky alone.
It was so small.
Yet it held the old man who had once single-handedly carried the entire family on his shoulders.
Who isn't innocent?
Xi Shi's insides went cold again, and she shook those stray thoughts out of her head. She'd already missed one opportunity—she couldn't repeat that mistake.
She ordered congee with preserved egg and lean pork, steamed sea bass, and other mild-flavored dishes according to Lin Youhe's tastes, then brought them to knock on his door at noon.
Xi Shi wore a soft knit dress that looked like it would be lovely to hug, with a gentle, sweet makeup look: "Returning the favor, Mr. Lin—I'm here to repay the breakfast."
Lin Youhe's gaze lingered on Xi Shi's face for a moment before he asked, "Would you like to eat together?"
Xi Shi shook her head with some regret. "I have things to do. I'll come see you tomorrow."
Lin Youhe's disappointment was plain to see. "Okay."
Xi Shi turned to leave. "Get well soon~"
In Xi Shi's view, a common cold was easy to recover from—she'd been sick before, and two doses of fever medicine were enough to get her back to full energy.
She planned to wait until Lin Youhe was a bit better before visiting him again.
Better yet, she'd bring an expensive gift suitable for visiting an elder, claiming a friend had given it to her and she had no use for it, asking if he knew any elderly relatives she could pass it on to—so the expensive item wouldn't go to waste sitting at home.
Would Lin Youhe go see Chen Lintian?
If he did…
She could drive him there in his car.
The plan had a decent chance of succeeding. What Xi Shi hadn't expected was for Lin Youhe's condition to worsen.
The next day, she dressed herself up like an exquisite painted mask and went to knock on the security door across the hall.
Lin Youhe didn't open the door but called instead.
Xi Shi answered suspiciously—
"Miss Xi, I'm sorry."
Lin Youhe's voice was utterly wrecked—hoarse, fragile, and intimate all at once. Even with the phone pressed to her ear, Xi Shi felt like her earlobe was about to catch fire.
Her plan had died before it could even begin. She played her part with some displeasure: "I… I'd better come in and check on you."
Lin Youhe gave her the security door code over the phone and told her to let herself in.
His apartment had all the curtains drawn, the windows shut—dim, warm, filled with the faint clean scent she often caught on Lin Youhe and the sweet-bitter smell of cold medicine, carrying an indescribable sense of intimacy.
Xi Shi walked through the dimness into Lin Youhe's bedroom. He had just pushed himself up from the mattress and switched on the bedside lamp.
When she got a clear look at him, she froze for a moment.
Lin Youhe seemed to be in bad shape—even his eyelids were flushed red with fever. He coughed and apologized.
Xi Shi genuinely couldn't understand it. Someone like her, who never cared about quality of life or so-called wellness, could recover from a cold with just medicine. Why would a man like Lin Youhe—who ate three meals on time every day, kept a regular schedule, and had abs—end up this sick from a tiny chill?
Still, Lin Youhe looked rather beautiful when sick.
It was just that he could be quite stubborn when ill.
Lin Youhe refused to go to the hospital and refused to eat, saying he had lost his sense of smell and taste. He only took his medicine once with warm water before lying back into bed and drifting off into a hazy sleep.
Xi Shi crouched by the bedside, gazing at Lin Youhe's slightly furrowed brow in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
She stared at him, savoring the sight, and found that she wasn't really all that angry about the failure of her plan.
Instead of climbing into bed or going home, Xi Shi chose a third option—she took off Lin Youhe's glasses and set them on the nightstand, turned off the bedside lamp, retreated from his bedroom, and fell asleep on his sofa.
When Xi Shi woke up in the darkness of the tightly drawn curtains, there was still not a sound from Lin Youhe's bedroom.
Xi Shi disliked this kind of silence—the kind where someone was clearly home but no sound could be heard. She walked into the bedroom, leaned over the bed, and reached out to feel his forehead.
Lin Youhe opened his eyes without a sound and suddenly grabbed hold of Xi Shi's outstretched forearm.
His palm was scorching hot.
It made her heart race for no reason.
Xi Shi paused for a moment before asking, "How are you feeling?"
Lin Youhe pulled her arm up to his face, sat up, and sniffed the inside of her wrist. "I'm better."
His warm breath fell on Xi Shi's skin, and half her body went numb. "You haven't even broken your fever…"
Oblivious, Lin Youhe gently brushed the tip of his nose against the pulse point on Xi Shi's wrist. "I can smell your perfume now."
The bedroom fell into stillness.
Lin Youhe's feverish breathing was too hot, and Xi Shi felt a faint electric current climb from the pulse on her inner wrist all the way to the nape of her neck.
She considered her moral standards to be average at best—she had no problem at all with getting involved with an appealing target while carrying out her plan.
Just as Xi Shi was beginning to consider whether she should take advantage of his weakened state, Lin Youhe suddenly released her wrist.
A faint rustling sound broke the dimness—Lin Youhe had probably put his glasses back on.
Then he switched on the bedside lamp, rubbing his temples as he said, "Miss Xi, you never left?"