Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Ambiguous Phase — Touching Something Hard Mingyu Tower. The banquet hall was resplendent, crystal chandeliers hanging high above dazzling like diamonds, the entire hall bathed in a layer of golden light. The hand-woven wool carpet on the floor was embroidered with exquisite, intricate patterns, soft and comfortable. A man leaned against the railing on the second-floor corridor, his brows cool and distant, radiating an aura that warned others to keep their distance. "Why don't you go down and mingle?" Zong Yi walked up beside Xie Zeyan, overlooking the scene in the first-floor banquet hall with him. "This welcome-back banquet was thrown specially for you, CEO, on your return to the country." As he finished speaking, their gazes simultaneously landed on a certain peacock of a man on the first floor, whose slick, shiny hair looked like it had been slathered with no small amount of hair gel. Zong Yi raised an eyebrow. "Your second uncle, there—at his age, he's dressed flashier than I am." Xie Zeyan let out a scoff, the disgust on his face unconcealed. "I heard the bastard son showed up at his company the day before yesterday. The old man was so furious he stayed in bed all day." Zong Yi was unfazed. "How many has that been now, anyway?" The phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. Xie Zeyan picked it up and glanced at it, the frost in his eyes gradually dissipating like mist. He walked toward a quieter area and answered the call. "Nan Shu." "What's wrong?" After a rustling sound, the girl's voice came through, tinged with a hint of tears. "Xie Zeyan, are you busy right now?" The man's gaze swept over the men and women clinking glasses downstairs, then casually withdrew. "Not busy." After a brief pause, he asked, "Do you need me right now?" Nan Shu gave a muffled "Mm" through her stuffy nose. "Huituichang has been throwing up nonstop, and now his body is shaking." "Probably gastroenteritis," Xie Zeyan said, glancing at his watch. "Wait ten minutes for me. I'll take you both to the hospital." "Okay, but are you sure you're not busy? I think I heard people talking." A few meters away, a man holding champagne was walking toward him—Xie Zeyan remembered him as the young President Wang from Heng'an Technology. Xie Zeyan raised a hand in a stopping gesture, and Young Wang wisely halted. "Stay home and wait for me." After hanging up, Xie Zeyan grabbed his suit jacket from the sofa and said to Zong Yi, "Handle things here. I'm leaving." "Bro, what do you mean handing your own welcome-back banquet to me... hey, hey, hey." Zong Yi couldn't stop Xie Zeyan at all—he just watched as the man stepped into the elevator without looking back and pressed the button for the B2 parking level. • It was nearly midnight as the black sedan sped through the streets. Five or six minutes later, the car pulled into Jingyuan Huating, turning left with practiced ease to stop in front of Nan Shu's building. White headlights illuminated the scene, and a slender figure came into Xie Zeyan's view. The girl was wearing an oversized, baggy T-shirt, the wind rushing in through her collar and sleeves. The nights had turned chilly these past few days, and Nan Shu breathed a warm puff onto her hands. Xie Zeyan's brows knitted slightly. Nan Shu spotted Xie Zeyan through the headlights. Not daring to waste a second, she got into the car immediately, Huituichang curled up pitifully in her arms. The car started moving quickly. The atmosphere inside was quiet. Xie Zeyan glanced at the girl in the passenger seat through the rearview mirror—she kept looking at the navigation, her expression anxious. When they hit a red light, Xie Zeyan pressed the brake. "I contacted the pet hospital before coming. Once we get there, we'll take Huituichang straight in for an examination." His eyes turned to her. "Nan Shu, don't worry." Xie Zeyan's tone was steady and reassuring, and Nan Shu felt a little more grounded, the furrow between her brows easing slightly. Just as she was about to say something, her phone suddenly rang. It was Liang Xubai returning her call. Liang Xubai's voice was hoarse. "Nannan, I'm really sorry—I was in surgery just now and missed your call. Did something urgent come up?" Nan Shu explained, "Xubai, it's Huituichang—he's sick." Rapid footsteps sounded on the other end of the line. "Are you at home? I'm getting off work at the hospital right now. I'll come pick you up." "No, no need," Nan Shu said, glancing sideways at Xie Zeyan. "My friend already came to get me. You just got out of surgery—you should go home and rest." "Alright then." After a two-second pause, Liang Xubai added, "I'm really sorry. Next time you need help, don't hesitate to reach out. As long as I'm free, I'll get back to you right away." "You contacted me last?" Xie Zeyan's voice suddenly sounded from beside her after she hung up. Nan Shu instinctively looked at his hand on the steering wheel. The man's shirt cuffs were rolled up twice, revealing a solid stretch of forearm. Her gaze drifted to his profile. He was looking straight ahead, his dark eyes revealing nothing. "Mm?" he pressed. Nan Shu lowered her gaze. "Yes." Xie Zeyan said nothing more. The pet hospital had round-the-clock staff on duty, and Xie Zeyan had called ahead. By the time they arrived, the veterinarian was already waiting at the door and immediately took Huituichang in for a complete blood count and coronavirus testing. Nan Shu paced anxiously outside the exam room, her hand unconsciously pressed to her stomach. The dull, throbbing pain was growing more pronounced. She had actually been feeling unwell at home, but Huituichang's situation had been too urgent at the time, and she hadn't had a chance to think about herself. Xie Zeyan walked over from behind and handed her a cup of hot water. "Summer is peak season for gastroenteritis. Don't worry, just sit and wait." Nan Shu took it and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls, then followed Xie Zeyan back to the chairs by the clinic door. The hospital's air conditioning was turned down very low. She kept breaking out in cold sweats, and could only keep drinking hot water to hide how she was feeling. Soon, the diagnosis came back—Huituichang was confirmed to have gastroenteritis. "Feed it some omeprazole first. If that doesn't work, we'll switch to IV fluids." The female doctor scribbled a few lines on the chart in a flourish, and Xie Zeyan took the form to go pick up the medication. Nan Shu went to the ward to see the little dog. Huituichang was lying weakly on the bed, and she sat down beside it, gently holding its paw in her hand. Her stomach felt like someone had kicked her several times. By the time Xie Zeyan came back, her back was already soaked through with cold sweat. Nan Shu rubbed her stomach. "I'll just step out to get some water. Can you feed Huituichang its medicine first?" Xie Zeyan nodded, noticing something was off about her. "Are you feeling unwell?" Nan Shu shook her head. "I'm fine. It's probably just that the air conditioning in here is too cold." Nan Shu left the ward with a paper cup in hand. Even after drinking a cup of hot water, she still felt no relief. Clutching her stomach, she headed to the restroom. When it rains, it pours—her period had come more than a week early. Nan Shu crouched in the stall, at a loss for what to do, when Xie Zeyan's message popped up at the top of her screen. Xie Zeyan: [What's taking you so long?] Nan Shu typed and deleted in the chat box, trying to figure out how to reply. Xie Zeyan: [Hmm?] The image of the man frowning in all seriousness as he typed that single character surfaced in her mind, and Nan Shu could only tell the truth: [It's nothing, I just suddenly got my period [poking fingers together] [feeling wronged]] Xie Zeyan: [Got it. Wait for me] What did he get? Nan Shu clutched her phone, and then a thought crossed her mind: Xie Zeyan wasn't going to go buy sanitary pads for her, was he? In her understanding, having someone buy sanitary pads for you was something that required a very close relationship. Nan Shu's thoughts drifted, and she suddenly recalled something that had happened in her sophomore year of high school. ... In her sophomore year, the academic pressure was intense, and her period often didn't come on schedule. Once, just like today, it had come early. She was clutching her aching stomach, face scrunched up in pain as she headed to the restroom, when a few boys from her class came out noisily. One of them said, "Hey? Nan Shu, why is there blood on your pants?" Another laughed teasingly, "No wonder she's the class beauty—she's even blooming flowers on the back of her pants, hahahaha." High school was never short of boys like that who sought attention. Nan Shu had no period shame—back when she was on the student council, she'd even proposed a "sanitary pad sharing box" initiative at school. But still, she was a girl of sixteen or seventeen, and being surrounded and laughed at by a group of tall boys wasn't exactly comfortable. Nan Shu hadn't been wearing her school jacket that day, so all she could do was tug at the hem of her short-sleeved uniform shirt, trying to cover the bloodstains on her pants. Seeing her blush and look embarrassed, the boys got even more rowdy, sticking to her like stubborn plasters all the way to the restroom. But what they hadn't expected was to run into Xie Zeyan at the restroom entrance. The boy had a sharply defined face, with proud, arrogant eyes. Even in a neatly pressed school uniform, he carried an air of rebelliousness. He cast a cold glance at the boys, and in an instant, they froze in place as if nailed to the ground. Xie Zeyan came from a prominent family and no one at school dared to mess with him. They immediately dropped their grinning expressions and instinctively cleared a path for him. Xie Zeyan walked over at an unhurried pace, and as he passed two of the boys, he bumped into their shoulders—not hard, but not lightly either. He stopped, and the two boys quickly said, "Sorry, sorry, we weren't watching where we were going." Xie Zeyan lazily lifted his eyes. "If you know you can't see, then why the hell aren't you getting lost?" His presence was overwhelmingly oppressive. The two boys exchanged uneasy glances, wondering why Xie Zeyan was acting like he'd swallowed gunpowder today. They shoved each other away from the scene, terrified of provoking this young master. In an instant, only Nan Shu and Xie Zeyan remained at the entrance. Nan Shu tried to slip past him, but a tall, slender figure blocked her way. She didn't dare lift her eyes to meet Xie Zeyan's gaze, and her line of sight happened to land on the boy's fair, delicate collarbone. His school uniform was washed spotlessly clean, and she could even catch the fresh scent of laundry detergent—like the ramune soda from the school convenience store. Nan Shu's eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings. Before she could even react, the next moment, she found herself enclosed in a half-embrace by Xie Zeyan. He tied his school jacket around her waist. Xie Zeyan was nearly a head taller than her. He bent his head down to tie the jacket into a knot, and the tips of his hair accidentally brushed against the tip of her nose. It was ticklish—and along with it, her heart felt as if a feather had lightly swept across it. She remembered that day, how sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the hallway, and how the boy, in a lazy, casual tone, had said only two things. "Hey, classmate." "Remember to return my jacket next time." ... A knock at the door interrupted Nan Shu's reverie. The young nurse on duty at the pet hospital asked from outside, "Miss, are you in this room?" Nan Shu responded and cracked the door open. The nurse handed a bag through the gap. "Your boyfriend asked me to give this to you." The plastic bag rustled in Nan Shu's hands as she quickly explained, "He's not my boyfriend." "Huh? Really? He seems to care about you a lot." The nurse was puzzled but quickly understood. "Oh, I see—the great 'talking stage,' right? I get it, I get it." No, no. Nan Shu wanted to explain that the two of them were just friends, that Xie Zeyan was only doing these things out of his usual gentlemanly nature, but saying more would only make things murkier, so she let it go. The bag was heavy. Nan Shu opened it—Xie Zeyan had bought her several different lengths. At the very bottom was a box of ibuprofen. It felt like a piece of candy was melting in her heart. After coming out of the restroom, Nan Shu poured a cup of hot water and swallowed an ibuprofen. The pain in her abdomen eased slightly. But Huituichang's condition hadn't improved. When Nan Shu returned to the exam room entrance, she was told the doctor had already taken Huituichang to get an IV drip. Huituichang was in Room 11, Zone A, and Xie Zeyan was there keeping it company. Nan Shu pulled over a stool and said to Xie Zeyan, "I'll wait here. You should go back and rest—I've really put you out today." He probably had work tomorrow. Xie Zeyan looked at the IV bag—still more than half full, slowly dripping down the tube. "I'll wait with you. I'm worried about Huituichang too." After all this time together, Nan Shu had come to understand that Xie Zeyan was not someone whose mind was easily changed. She sat down beside the hospital bed. Huituichang was curled into a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut, occasionally letting out little whimpers from its throat. Nan Shu propped her head on one hand and gently stroked Huituichang's back with the other. It was already past midnight. Drowsiness crept in, and in the haze between waking and dreaming, Nan Shu heard the man behind her take a phone call, step out of the room, and quietly close the door. Some time later, she felt something draped over her—a jacket carrying that faint, distinctive woody scent unique to Xie Zeyan. The cool fabric of the suit pressed against her skin, and for a moment she couldn't tell whether it was reality or a dream. Morning. Cicadas chirped endlessly outside the window. Nan Shu blinked awake, groggy, the sky still a thick deep blue—not yet fully light. Huituichang's IV was finished. The doctor must have come by in the middle of the night; the needle had already been removed. Nan Shu pressed her temples. As she stood up, the suit jacket slipped from her shoulders onto the chair. It was Xie Zeyan's. She bent down to pick it up. It was probably only four or five in the morning, and visibility in the room was poor. By the faint light beside the bed, Nan Shu turned to look—Xie Zeyan was leaning back in the fold-out chair, eyes closed. Xie Zeyan had the kind of handsome, roguish features with strong contours. The light fell across his profile, casting sharp, defined shadows. He was wearing only a white shirt, cuffs unbuttoned and casually resting against his wrist bones. The air conditioning was blowing directly down on him from above—Nan Shu didn't need to stand there to know his spot was the coldest in the entire room. And he'd still given her his jacket. Nan Shu draped the jacket over her arm, moved the stool aside, and made her way toward Xie Zeyan behind her. She had mild night blindness—her vision in dim light was far worse than most people's—so she walked slowly and carefully. Just as she was about to reach him, her foot caught on the trash can at her side. Her body lurched, and she pitched forward uncontrollably. The expected pain never came. Instead, a warm sensation spread through her. Her hand instinctively reached out—and touched something firm. The man beneath her let out a low, muffled groan. Oh my god. Nan Shu closed her eyes in despair. Not only had she accidentally fallen onto Xie Zeyan, she'd even squeezed his abs. Her ears flushed crimson. As she braced herself against the armrest to stand up, a pair of scorching hands suddenly gripped her waist. "Nan Shu." His voice was low and hoarse as he called her name, his fingertips brushing inadvertently against her side. It felt like an electric current shot through her body. Her legs went weak, and she sank back into the man's embrace, his hot breath spilling against her neck. "Don't go, okay?"