After a winter of dormancy, spring flowers were always vibrant and full of life. Sunshine spilled over them, their fragrance overflowing.
The lilacs along the campus path had already sprouted full trees of buds and would soon burst into full bloom.
The morning classroom was still a busy mix of activities.
Wei Lai was playing guerrilla warfare with Zhou Qin, furiously copying Chinese homework with bold, sweeping strokes.
Yu Mo had overslept again. She rushed into the classroom just at the bell and was still a bit dazed.
Her chest heaving, she habitually opened her phone to check the messages received after she fell asleep last night.
On the screen, under the pink and white rose avatar, was a clear line: 【Good night.】
Followed by an adorably soft sticker of a little penguin wearing a sleeping cap.
For a moment, Yu Mo doubted her eyes.
After rubbing them and confirming it was indeed Shen Shuyu, she considered burying her head in her desk for a full system reboot.
Just as Yu Mo was settling in, on the verge of re-entering dreamland, the bell for the end of morning self-study rang.
After a second of silence, the teaching building erupted in all sorts of lively noise.
Yu Mo buried her head deeper, but Wei Lai tapped on her desk. “Yu Mo, Qu Wenyao is here to see you.”
Yu Mo’s shoulders slumped completely.
But since someone was here to see her, there was no reason not to meet them.
Yawning, Yu Mo got up from her desk and lazily replied to Wei Lai, “Okay, I know.”
Qu Wenyao was standing by the back door, poking her little head in and looking towards Yu Mo.
Seeing Yu Mo glance her way, she immediately beamed and waved. “Over here, Yu Mo.”
Such boundless energy, Yu Mo thought, feeling somewhat more awake herself.
She walked up to Qu Wenyao and asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I meant to ask you yesterday how badly you were hurt, but I couldn’t find you. There were some class matters, so it got delayed until today.” As she spoke, Qu Wenyao handed Yu Mo a small bag. “I figured the ointment I gave you last time must be used up. I couldn’t find that exact kind, but I brought two tubes with similar effects. I hope you don’t mind.”
Yu Mo accepted it politely. “How could I mind, Wenyao? Besides, I still have a few tubes the school infirmary prescribed for me that I haven’t finished. Don’t spend money next time; I can just buy some from the campus store.”
“The school infirmary?” Qu Wenyao frowned slightly.
“Yeah, why?” Yu Mo asked, puzzled by her reaction.
“Oh, nothing… I’m just surprised the school infirmary carries this kind of medicine,” Qu Wenyao explained.
“It’s an Upper City school, after all. Not strange for the infirmary to have some of this, right?” Yu Mo didn’t think much of it and let the question slide.
Qu Wenyao didn’t press the issue either. She lightly pressed her lips together and asked, “Um, Yu Mo, could I see your wound? I watched the video that day, and it looked quite serious.”
“Ah, it wasn’t that bad. The blood was mostly from the scab of a previous injury getting scraped off and bleeding a bit. It’s not serious.” Knowing Qu Wenyao felt very guilty about the injury she’d inadvertently caused, Yu Mo moved her injured left arm around to reassure her. “See? It’s fine.”
“Let me take a look anyway.” As she spoke, Qu Wenyao naturally reached out and took the wrist Yu Mo had extended toward her.
A cloud drifted lazily across the sky, dimming some of the sunlight.
The corridor abruptly darkened.
Qu Wenyao held Yu Mo’s wrist. Her warm, pale skin showed a hint of pink.
Her neatly trimmed nails gently lifted Yu Mo’s sleeve, leaving only the warmth of her fingertips without causing any pain to the scabbed scrape.
Qu Wenyao lowered her head to inspect the wound.
Her long hair fell forward, and a subtle scent of gardenia drifted from the nape of her neck.
The fragrance settled in Yu Mo’s nose, unintentionally teasing this soon-to-be Alpha.
“Yu Mo.”
A faint call rang out. The cloud before the sun was pushed along by the wind, releasing a slash of golden light.
Shen Shuyu stood at the front door of the classroom, having witnessed the entire scene.
Yu Mo withdrew her arm from Qu Wenyao’s grasp and turned to look. “Academic Rep? What is it?”
Seeing the sleeve of Yu Mo’s injured left arm Qu Wenyao had lifted, the possessiveness coiled in Shen Shuyu’s heart flicked its tongue.
She walked towards Yu Mo and abruptly grabbed her uninjured arm. “Yes, come with me.”
A gentle breeze swept through the secluded rest area courtyard. Willow branches swayed, and the scent of golden forsythia blossoms filled the air.
The flagstones were carpeted with forsythia petals.
Shen Shuyu pulled Yu Mo through the scene.
There was no one around, just quiet solitude.
The breeze rustled the layers of forsythia, scattering golden petals onto Shen Shuyu’s long hair.
Her skirt fluttered, the creamy skin beneath her black stockings appearing and disappearing.
The wind carried the scent of flowers, swirling around Yu Mo, teasing her heart.
Yu Mo remembered how Shen Shuyu had wrapped those very legs around her waist, leaving whimpering murmurs in her ear on countless nights filled with the scent of camellia wine.
Abruptly, Yu Mo halted the wretched memory.
She looked at Shen Shuyu’s hand gripping her wrist and stopped firmly, unwilling to follow further. “There’s no one else here now. What exactly does the Academic Rep want?”
Shen Shuyu choked.
She didn’t know what she wanted from Yu Mo either.
Seeing Qu Wenyao standing beside Yu Mo, her head had simply abandoned the word “rational.”
It was just the simple, selfish desire not to see Yu Mo that close to Qu Wenyao.
Because her relationship with Yu Mo had eased somewhat these past days, she had greedily developed a sense of possessiveness over her.
She begrudged anyone else touching her skin.
Then, Shen Shuyu quickly recovered her usual composure. She turned to face Yu Mo. “I wanted to ask if you have time now to help me change my dressing.”
“Oh.” The furrow in Yu Mo’s brow smoothed. She put one hand in her pocket. “If you don’t want others to know, just message me next time you need it done. Don’t do it like this.”
“Alright.” Shen Shuyu nodded.
“Did you bring the medicine?” Yu Mo asked.
“Yes.” Shen Shuyu felt tremendously relieved that she’d kept Yu Mo’s ointment in her pocket all along.
The large rest area was quiet. Shen Shuyu chose a more secluded spot to sit down and silently removed her clothes.
The swollen, fierce bruise that had marred this smooth back yesterday had subsided somewhat.
But still not ideally.
Yu Mo suspected Shen Shuyu hadn’t properly treated the wound after going home last night. “Did the Academic Rep not reapply the medicine herself last night?”
“No,” Shen Shuyu answered honestly, her gaze following Yu Mo, who seemed to be searching for something in the room.
“Then why were you up so late?” Yu Mo walked to a cabinet and took out a clean, fresh towel.
Shen Shuyu’s lips pressed into a thin line, unwilling to answer.
She had spent all of last night reading a book Li Qingqing shared: How to Capture an Alpha’s Heart.
Yu Mo glanced at her helplessly.
Sunlight fell on Shen Shuyu’s lowered lashes, settling on her tall, delicate nose bridge.
Her fragrant shoulder was exposed, long hair half-hiding it, the bluish-purple bruise faintly visible on her back.
Like an exquisite but fragile flower.
Unable to bear scolding her further, Yu Mo just said, “Since you’re injured, remember to sleep early. Don’t stay up late. Otherwise, the wound won’t heal well and might leave a scar.”
The fresh towel, soaked twice in hot water, was placed by Yu Mo onto Shen Shuyu’s back.
The warm steam enveloped her back, easing much of the tormenting pain.
“You seem to know a lot about treating wounds.” Shen Shuyu gently gathered her long hair, her peripheral vision falling on Yu Mo’s hand resting nearby.
The slender fingers were unmarred by many scars, smooth and delicate.
Undried water droplets clung to them, refracting the soft light.
Part fresh, part alluring.
The hot compress needed a few more minutes. Yu Mo chatted idly to pass the time. “I know a bit, I suppose. Learned it before.”
“Was it at your previous school? I haven’t heard you mention it.” Shen Shuyu tried to engage Yu Mo in conversation.
Yu Mo’s gaze, observing Shen Shuyu’s pale back, dimmed. “A long time ago…”
Back then, to stay by Shen Shuyu’s side, Yu Mo had enrolled in bodyguard training.
Her peers were either people with years of training or ex-military. She was the only true beginner starting from zero.
Bruises layered upon bruises on the girl’s fair skin. Late nights of extra practice became her constant routine during that period.
Who would imagine a high-grade Alpha would choose to become a lowly bodyguard?
Who would expect Yu Mo to complete in one year training that normally took others three?
She had thought that on her graduation day, Shen Shuyu would be among those welcoming her.
But Shen Shuyu never showed up, even when the party ended.
She still remembered that day under the twilight sky. Shen Shuyu had stood before that memory-etched slate-blue villa, wearing a red dress as vivid as fire.
Her long, thick black curls cascaded down. Her red lips were intense, her makeup exquisite.
She’d carried a faint scent of alcohol, a delicate blush on her slightly tipsy cheeks.
She had just returned from a party—just not from Yu Mo’s own party.
Looking at Shen Shuyu’s low spirits, Yu Mo had asked softly, “Jiejie, why didn’t you come to mine?”
Perhaps Shen Shuyu had truly been a little drunk that day. Yu Mo watched her reach out a slender arm. The mink coat draped over her shoulders slipped down.
Under the moonlight, a warm kiss landed on Yu Mo’s forehead.
Shen Shuyu offered no explanation.
Yet Yu Mo forgave her.
Pacified by just a single kiss.
How easily placated you were.
Yu Mo scoffed silently.
Then, detachedly, she removed the towel from Shen Shuyu’s back and draped it on the iron bed frame nearby.
The warmth was pulled away, the air stealing the heat from Shen Shuyu’s back.
Leaving behind an unnatural chill.
Even without looking, Shen Shuyu knew she’d stepped on Yu Mo’s tail again.
“I’m sorry,” Shen Shuyu offered softly.
It was starkly audible in the silent space.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all stuff that should’ve been forgotten long ago,” Yu Mo replied lightly.
Shen Shuyu’s heart dropped. She asked, veiledly, “And the person in the story? Should she be forgotten too?”
Yu Mo paused. She lowered her head, applying ointment to her fingers, then answered, “Of course. Best if there are no further intersections. Just be passing acquaintances.”
Outside the window, sparrows chirped as they fluttered into the forsythia bushes in the flowerbed, shaking loose a shower of golden petals.
The white ointment was spread across Shen Shuyu’s back.
Bit by bit, it drew away the little residual warmth left after the hot compress.
The sunlight was blinding, yet did not warm the heart.
