In the evening, the sky remained overcast with drizzling rain.
Shi Mengxi greeted several members of the Academy Research Association and politely declined their invitation to share a cab.
She still needed to return to the College Building in the academic district first, which wasn’t on their way.
She had nearly completed all her tasks for the semester. Although she was prepared to leave, Shi Mengxi had always liked to see things through to the end.
Only the final printmaking assignment from Rong Yi remained. She had finished it days ago but had delayed turning it in.
Shi Mengxi hadn’t visited the College Building much lately, so she wasn’t sure about Rong Yi’s schedule or when she could avoid running into her.
On their usual weekly public holidays, Rong Yi would spend the entire afternoon in her office if she wasn’t traveling or in meetings, available to answer students’ questions.
Fortunately, there had been a faculty meeting at the college that afternoon, after which everyone should have dispersed.
It wasn’t too late when Shi Mengxi arrived at the College Building. The large conference room on the first floor was already empty, with only a few professors lingering inside, chatting sporadically.
She let out a soft breath of relief, went upstairs, and returned to her studio.
Rong Yi required both the print and the plate to be submitted together. They weren’t large and had been prepared long ago, lying quietly flat on the desk.
Shi Mengxi ran her fingers along the edge of the plate and gripped the corner.
She intended to pick it up, but her strength seemed to drain away in an instant, her fingertips trembling faintly as well.
If all went as expected, this would be her last time going to Rong Yi’s office.
She placed the plate on an empty table near the door, set the print beside it, then closed the door and emailed Rong Yi to say she had submitted the printmaking assignment.
This was how Shi Mengxi had been turning in her assignments lately.
After Lu Jia’s injury last time made it impossible for her to retrieve the medication, Rong Yi hadn’t changed to a code lock but had installed a code-locked box next to the door with a key inside for their regular use.
The office wasn’t like the studios; there were no valuables, so the code was set to the easily memorable door number.
By the time Shi Mengxi carried the plate over, night had fully fallen.
The lights had come on, but there were hardly any people in the College Building.
Shi Mengxi hadn’t eaten anything that day. She had also sat idly in the studio for nearly an hour, missing both dinner and her medication.
A faint discomfort stirred in her stomach, but she was long accustomed to it.
Yet after only a few steps, a sharp twisting pain struck her upper abdomen, so intense she wanted to double over but couldn’t.
She adjusted her hold on the wooden plate, pressing the lower edge against her sternum through her clothes, which eased it slightly.
The final trip, and every step was agonizing.
Shi Mengxi staggered more and more, cold sweat beading on her forehead.
Several waves of the pain even came with fleeting white flashes in her forward vision.
Her consciousness blurred step by step, yet she recalled the excitement and anticipation she had felt on the road to Rong Yi’s office for the first time when she had just enrolled.
But all those intimate moments had been utterly ruined by her presumptuous, absurdly irredeemable thoughts.
In a short while, the only teacher-student bond between her and Rong Yi would sever as well.
Reduced to strangers.
She didn’t know how long she walked.
This path she had taken countless times felt exceptionally long and empty tonight.
She was even glad for its emptiness, so no passing students would see her in this state.
If word reached Rong Yi, would the woman think she was putting on an act? Or that she deserved it?
Shi Mengxi knew Rong Yi wasn’t like that and would never harbor such excessive thoughts, yet she couldn’t help forcing herself to imagine it.
It seemed that the bitterness stabbing her heart overshadowed the pain twisting in her stomach, giving her momentary relief.
At last, she reached the familiar office door.
Shi Mengxi leaned against the doorframe, steadying herself for over ten seconds with her still-coherent consciousness, preparing to set down the plate and get the key.
But before she could, the door opened from inside first.
The soft, bright light from the room spilled out before the figure within, dazzling her eyes.
Half a minute earlier, Rong Yi had heard movement outside.
She had just stood to open the door when Shi Mengxi collapsed straight into her arms, her slight frame as light as a trembling leaf.
Rong Yi instinctively caught her, and upon seeing the girl’s face pale to the point of bloodlessness, her breathing unconsciously lightened.
“Mengxi?”
Rong Yi’s voice tensed.
When she reached out and felt the girl’s icy temperature, noticing her furrowed brows and the arm unconsciously clutching her stomach, she understood the reason.
Rong Yi always prioritized wellness, favoring Pilates over strength training. Yet now, she effortlessly scooped Shi Mengxi into a horizontal carry.
The winter coat wrapped a frame so gaunt it seemed it might snap with a bend.
The woman’s knuckles tightened slightly, her lashes lowering.
Fortunately, the office was close to the elevator. They descended to the basement parking level, and when Rong Yi placed her in the back seat, Shi Mengxi’s fingertips twitched, managing a faint whisper of thanks.
In those few minutes, Shi Mengxi hadn’t completely lost consciousness.
She simply lacked the strength to speak—and, despicably, wanted to linger in the woman’s arms even a second longer.
“Hang in there. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
Rong Yi averted her gaze and went straight to the front driver’s seat.
At those words, Shi Mengxi endured a sudden intensification of the pain and propped herself up on the seat with both hands. “You’re… driving?”
Rong Yi gave a soft hum. “I got my license a while back.”
Without her dedicated driver shadowing her every day, she had decided it was time to learn.
Shi Mengxi opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed the words.
The car was silent, save for the fine rain threads pattering on the windows, unable to penetrate the quiet.
She leaned against the farthest side of the back seat, stealing several glances at Rong Yi through the rearview mirror.
The woman’s lips were pressed tight, brows furrowed. Compared to her usual calm and stern demeanor, a rare anxiety flickered in her expression.
This anxiety stemmed from her.
Yet Shi Mengxi felt no joy—only guilt and unease.
She feared being too much trouble for Rong Yi, feared leaving her with this final impression of pallid unattractiveness.
So she didn’t dare speak, not even steal more glances.
She just clutched her throbbing stomach, biting the soft flesh inside her lip to stifle groans, curling up in the seat and trembling uncontrollably from the pain.
Throughout, Rong Yi never once glanced into the rearview mirror.
Her hearing was decent, especially in the car’s quiet confines, easily catching the unsteady breaths from behind.
The roads were slick with rain, and she was still new to driving. No matter how anxious, Rong Yi kept her speed steady. Afraid of losing composure, she didn’t dare look back at Shi Mengxi’s condition.
Fortunately, the Municipal First Hospital wasn’t far from the school.
She drove extremely smoothly, without the slightest jolt.
After bustling from the ER to the ward, the nurse had left.
Rong Yi sat in a nearby chair, repeatedly opening and closing the chat app. No new messages had come in, and she had checked the sent ones countless times, yet she still didn’t look up.
She… didn’t know how to face Shi Mengxi.
Even a sidelong glance at the girl’s hand resting on the sheet—pierced with an IV needle, purely white, the back so bony it was starkly frail.
Veins accentuated it, glaringly conspicuous.
Fortunately, though Shi Mengxi’s condition had eased somewhat, she had no desire to speak.
She simply lay with her eyes closed, silently counting every minute and second—perhaps the last time she could be alone with Rong Yi.
The space beside her was so utterly still that Shi Mengxi could barely detect any presence from the other person.
She grew even more afraid that when she opened her eyes, the chair would be empty.
Had Rong Yi already left?
Until the phone on the bedside table buzzed.
Shi Mengxi opened her eyes. Before she could move, a slender, pale hand handed it to her.
“…Thanks.”
She hadn’t drunk much water, so her throat was dry.
Rong Yi noticed and stood to pour a cup of warm water, handing it over.
The cup warmed in her palm from the water. Shi Mengxi lowered her gaze and murmured thanks, sipping slowly. The situation wasn’t too severe; she had improved considerably. But after a recent gastric perforation surgery, now acute gastritis meant a few more days in the hospital.
With Rong Yi right there, Shi Mengxi couldn’t remain silent. “Teacher, thank you… for bringing me here. Sorry for wasting your time.”
Earlier in the ER, she had overheard Rong Yi calling another professor to cover a class.
Rong Yi replied evenly, “I’m your teacher. This is my duty.”
Teacher.
Shi Mengxi traced the rim of the cup, saying softly, “I can manage alone. You… should go back and rest.”
Rong Yi looked at her steadily.
She recalled the last time the girl was hospitalized, when several students had visited together and asked if she wanted to join. It had coincided with an optional conference in a neighboring city, so she had used that as an excuse to decline.
That afternoon, after the meeting ended, she had stood outside the ward for a few minutes, hearing the girl chatting idly with the caregiver. The students had just left, and the caregiver praised how close-knit they were, saying the teacher must be wonderful too.
Rong Yi had heard that voice laugh affirmatively: “Yes, the teacher is especially good.”
Even after how she had treated her, she still thought that?
Rong Yi didn’t understand.
Yet she couldn’t deny that at those words from Shi Mengxi, her tight lips relaxed slightly into a faint curve.
Snapping back, Rong Yi said, “I have nothing tonight. I’ll stay and take care of you.”
She paused, then added, “I’ll get a caregiver to come over later.”
She had already taken leave and owed a favor.
Last time, Shi Mengxi had been alone, but since Rong Yi had brought her today, she couldn’t just abandon her student and leave.
No matter how much she wanted to avoid suspicion, health came first.
“A caregiver will be enough. The hospital isn’t comfortable; you should go rest.”
Shi Mengxi refused warmly again.
This distant, aloof attitude—even after experiencing it several times recently—still stunned Rong Yi for a few seconds.
The patient’s emotions mattered.
Since Shi Mengxi didn’t want to see her, she wouldn’t insist.
Words she had meant to say caught in her throat. Rong Yi paused, then said softly, “Alright, rest well then. After discharge, make sure to—”
She stopped midway again.
She had meant to say have friends look after her a bit, eat lightly prepared food, but suddenly remembered Shi Mengxi was living alone in a hotel now.
Besides, she shouldn’t meddle so much; it would be overstepping.
Rong Yi said no more.
Shi Mengxi curved her lips weakly, a faint smile in her pallor. “I know. Thank you, Teacher.”
It had been so long since she had seen Shi Mengxi smile at her.
Rong Yi hastily looked away and nodded. “…Rest early. I’ll go now.”
The ward door closed gently behind her.
The room fell silent.
Rong Yi stood outside for over ten minutes before finally leaving.
She didn’t go home but headed to her office in the College Building.
It was late at night, yet the office light remained on. She had left in a hurry earlier, bringing only her phone from her coat pocket, without grabbing anything else.
The plate rested quietly against the outer wall by the door. She slowly bent down and picked it up.
She pictured the girl’s bloodless face as she had carried it step by step from the studio and set it down here.
Rong Yi remembered the noise outside then.
She had heard it but hadn’t opened the door right away, assuming it was some passing teacher or student.
Now she regretted it.
In those dozens of seconds, Shi Mengxi must have been suffering greatly.
Her fingertip unconsciously pressed the plate’s edge, leaving a faint red mark, yet she felt no pain.
Rong Yi lowered her gaze to the assignment Shi Mengxi had submitted, her eyes tracing it inch by inch, lightly and slowly.
It was well carved.
Compared to when she first enrolled, the technique and details had improved beyond measure.
During the year and more they lived together, though not exactly hand-holding lessons, they had spent countless days in the studio.
Even at home, Rong Yi was the type to circle back to academics anytime.
Shi Mengxi never minded, her soft eyes always meeting hers obediently and cleverly as she flipped open the tablet to explain.
Sometimes in the living room, sometimes retreating to the study.
Always under bright, warm lighting, casting their two shadows close together.
She taught Shi Mengxi the knife pressure, the detail work—inevitably drawing near.
She could almost still remember it… the faint fragrance lingering at the girl’s hair tips and along her neck. They clearly used the same shampoo and conditioner, yet there remained that subtle difference.
But now, that apartment had gone dark for a long time; they had both moved out.
Rong Yi knew exactly what she was avoiding—she didn’t want to confront the familiar surroundings, nor the familiar memories that surfaced alongside them, all of it shrouded away together.
Her gaze fell back onto the printmaking plate.
Rong Yi thought, she couldn’t let herself think about it anymore.
