Song Zhiyu couldn’t help but frown. He was about to forward the post to the student council to have it deleted, but the thought that after years of brotherhood with Jiang Wangye, he had never even seen the face of the person Jiang was acting foolish over stirred a flicker of curiosity in his otherwise stagnant heart.
Though he had no interest in women, the fact that Jiang had always kept his childhood sweetheart hidden from everyone made this curiosity itch at him relentlessly.
With a flick of his slender, pale fingers, a slightly blurry photo appeared beneath several lines of explosive text. He tapped the screen, and the image expanded.
But at that moment, something soft suddenly collided with him.
Song Zhiyu lost his balance, and his phone slipped from his hand.
Instinctively, he reached out to grab something to steady himself, but there was nothing around. Instead, he tumbled onto the lawn, taking the warm, soft figure in his arms down with him.
It was three in the afternoon. The sun felt warm on his skin, the grass beneath him was soft, and the air carried the fresh scent of greenery.
The soft figure on top of him seemed to carry a sweet, tantalizing fragrance that made his heart flutter.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Half-opening his eyes, Song Zhiyu met a pair of misty, almond-shaped eyes.
The girl’s cheeks were flushed from the sun, and her pale pink strapless dress revealed a generous expanse of porcelain-white skin. Her delicate collarbone resembled faint traces on snow, captivating his gaze.
“Hey, are you okay?” The girl’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, her moist eyes filled with concern. “Are you feeling unwell? Should I take you to the hospital?”
As she moved, her cascading, slightly curled hair brushed unconsciously against the side of Song Zhiyu’s neck, sending a tingling sensation through him. His fingers, gripping the grass beneath him, curled slightly.
Her concerned voice pulled his attention back. Realizing his earlier rudeness, he immediately averted his gaze, letting it fall unfocused on the top of her head. “I’m fine.”
As Song Zhiyu prepared to get up, he noticed the girl was half-propped up, leaning over his chest. That sweet, enticing fragrance grew even stronger.
As if suddenly aware of something, his voice turned a few degrees colder. “You… you should get up first.”
“S-sorry, I was just too flustered earlier.” Xu Qiao’s face flushed with embarrassment as she hurriedly apologized and tried to stand.
But during their fall, her dress had been trapped under Song Zhiyu’s leg. As she rose halfway, the hem tugged, and she stumbled back down.
Unprepared, the two found themselves face-to-face once again.
Only this time, it was even more awkward than before.
“You—”
Song Zhiyu’s ears flushed completely red.
His usually cool and detached face was now tinged with a mix of irritation and embarrassment.
Xu Qiao hadn’t expected this either. Propping herself up, she paled as she clutched her chest, which ached from the impact.
Who would have thought that when she fell earlier, her chest had collided with Song Zhiyu’s face?
His nose was surprisingly hard, and the impact had left her in pain.
Her earlier act of timid innocence vanished instantly, replaced by tears welling in her eyes from the pain. Her almond-shaped eyes grew moist, the corners tinged with a pitiful red, making her look even more vulnerable and distressed.
She whimpered softly, her voice trembling, “Ouch, my chest hurts so much.”
A plump, fair, and slightly chubby little hand rubbed the sore spot right before his eyes. Her skin was as smooth and translucent as porcelain, like a soft, fluffy steamed bun.
Song Zhiyu’s gaze had nowhere to escape.
That sweet, lingering fragrance seemed to grow even stronger.
For a moment, his body grew unbearably hot, especially in a certain area rarely touched.
Having lived over twenty years, he had never been this intimate with a woman before.
How could such an absurd situation have occurred today?
Overwhelmed with both shame and anger, his tone grew colder and colder. "You, get up quickly! What kind of behavior is this?"
The first time she bumped into Song Zhiyu was indeed Xu Qiao's deliberate attempt to get close to him, but the second time was truly unexpected.
Having grown up this way, when had she ever been scolded like this?
Her chest hurt, and she couldn't help but complain, "You're pressing on my clothes—how can I get up?"
"Can't you speak properly? Why are you being so harsh?"
Her voice was soft and tinged with irritation.
Like a piece of burnt glutinous rice cake.
That's what Song Zhiyu thought.
Hearing Xu Qiao's explanation, he realized he had wrongly accused her.
His cold expression finally softened a little, but his brows remained tightly furrowed. "Sorry, let me help you up."
He shifted his leg slightly and placed his hand on Xu Qiao's waist over her clothes, preparing to help her up. But the moment he touched her body, he felt nothing but softness everywhere.
After a brief daze, he tightened his palm and helped her to her feet.
Song Zhiyu was very tall, about 188 cm, while Xu Qiao stood at 165 cm. Once they were both standing, he lowered his head slightly and inadvertently noticed the reddened area where Xu Qiao was holding her hand. It looked like a patch of red plum blossoms against pure white snow—strikingly vivid.
"What are you looking at? It's all your fault—it hurts so much!" Xu Qiao looked up and met Song Zhiyu's gaze, her misty eyes glistening with tears.
In her pain, she had completely forgotten that she was the one who had intentionally bumped into Song Zhiyu in the first place.
Now, with righteous indignation, she turned the tables, instantly blaming all the responsibility on the innocent party.
Their gazes met across the space, and the man stiffened. The girl's words echoed in his ears, making his ears burn with heat. He quickly coughed and averted his eyes.
The man stood against the light, perfectly blocking the glaring sunlight for Xu Qiao. She glared angrily at him, taking the opportunity to size him up completely.
When she had received his one-inch photo from Su Jiaojiao, she had thought he looked delicate and refined, probably the type of rigid, straightforward science student. But seeing him in person, he was much more handsome than in the photo.
His complexion was fair, his features handsome, with dark, tousled hair falling over his forehead. When he opened his eyes, his gaze was like unfathomable ice and snow.
Yet his entire presence was cool and detached. Standing beside him, Xu Qiao even felt the summer heat lessen slightly.
"I'm sorry, let me take you to the hospital," Song Zhiyu took a step back, his tone flat and unreadable.
The first time they collided, he had thought this woman was probably no different from the girls who usually threw themselves at him.
But seeing her so angry now, she likely hadn't done it on purpose.
He had indeed hurt her, and no matter what, he had to take responsibility.
"To the hospital?" Xu Qiao exclaimed in surprise.
She lowered her hand and looked down at the reddened area. It was indeed strikingly red, but she insisted, "I'm not going! How embarrassing would that be!"
"Who goes to the hospital because their chest got bumped? I can't bear the shame. What if they ask me how I got hurt? Am I supposed to say… Hmph!"
The woman crossed her arms and stomped her foot angrily on the ground.
She looked haughty and self-righteous.
"Then… what do you want to do?" Song Zhiyu frowned, his gaze fixed on Xu Qiao's face, carefully avoiding any downward glance, though his peripheral vision inevitably caught glimpses of the unfortunate state below.
As a researcher, his mind was highly logical, and he could usually figure things out with just a moment's thought.
But today, having been bumped into twice by Xu Qiao and then directly blamed by her, in such an awkward situation, he completely forgot that he had been standing still all along—it was Xu Qiao who had run into him.
Now, he was entirely at her mercy.
"I don’t want to go to the hospital. A massage here should be enough to fix it." Xu Qiao pouted, her anger subsiding slightly. Her long, curled eyelashes resembled two small fans, casting faint shadows beneath her eyes.
After speaking, she placed her hands on her hips and added, "But since you’re the one who hurt me, you should pay for my massage."
"Fine, I’ll pay." Song Zhiyu had actually been worried that if Xu Qiao asked for nothing, it would be even more troublesome.
He didn’t want to get entangled with women.
Although he rarely interacted with women, at school, many girls tried to approach him under the pretext of joining the student council or entering research groups.
These girls were all the same—noisy, troublesome, offering no help to his biological research, only wasting his time, and even potentially making people foolish.
Take his good friend Jiang Wangye, for example, who was utterly obsessed with his childhood sweetheart.
Seeing this woman make her own demands now, Song Zhiyu’s cool and distant expression softened slightly.
As long as the matter was resolved reasonably, he was willing to pay for her massages even if they lasted a year.
Worried that Song Zhiyu might try to avoid paying, Xu Qiao quickly took out her phone, pulled up her WeChat QR code, and handed it to the man. "Scan it. After my massage, I’ll message you for the money."
Song Zhiyu’s brow furrowed.
Add her on WeChat?
Could it be that he had misjudged her?
Was this woman just like those boring girls, deliberately bumping into him just to get his contact information?
He instinctively took a step back, the air around him growing colder, and was about to refuse.
But then Xu Qiao glared fiercely and said, "What, you don’t want to pay?"
Before he could explain, the girl exploded with anger, demanding, "You look all proper and well-dressed, but you won’t even pay this little bit of money?"
"Let me tell you, don’t even think about trying to weasel out of it. If you don’t pay, I’ll report you on the campus forum!"
Her flushed nose wrinkled slightly, her face red with anger. Against her porcelain-white skin, patches of red and white stood out, like a little kitten showing its threatening claws—fierce and intimidating.
Logically, Song Zhiyu should have felt annoyed.
In the past, whenever he saw girls chasing after him, he would feel nothing but irritation.
But this one in front of him made his heart soften, as if he had basked in the warm winter sun.
The caution he had felt earlier vanished completely.
Perhaps it was because her attitude toward him was entirely different from other girls, or maybe it was the pleasant, sweet fragrance she carried.
Well, what harm could adding her on WeChat do?
If she really tried to pester him, he could simply block and delete her.
Without further hesitation, Song Zhiyu picked up his phone from the ground and scanned the QR code.
Soon, the two became friends on WeChat.
Seeing this, Xu Qiao didn’t linger at all. She shot the man one last fierce glare, then covered her chest and walked away.
"What an unexpected misfortune." Song Zhiyu watched the resolute retreating figure, his heart suddenly filled with complex emotions.
This girl was really easy to talk to.
He had thought she might pester him a bit more.
He had already made up his mind—scan the QR code and leave without saying another word.
But he never expected her to walk away even faster than him.
He steadied himself, feeling a strange discomfort in his chest, as if something wasn’t quite right.
Upon reflection, his palm and body still seemed to retain the lingering warmth and softness from earlier.
The glaring red mark on that patch of snow-white skin flashed before his eyes, making his body uncontrollably heat up and his mind grow dizzy.
He shook his head and instinctively furrowed his brow.
He must have lost his mind, thinking about such trivial things.
Could it be that being bumped into by a woman had made him foolish too?