“The wounds on my back… even I feel like they’re a bit unreal when I talk about them.”
Shen An’s fingertip twirled around a lock of Zhao Qingyu’s silky hair. His tone was flat, laced with a faint sense of daze. That so-called unreal feeling came through clearly in his voice, letting Zhao Qingyu sense it.
“It felt just like a dream, but how could a dream be that real?”
“It exists for real—that’s an undeniable fact.”
Shen An narrowed his eyes as his thoughts drifted back to a month ago, the moment he’d arrived in this world.
He still remembered that girl who’d leaped off the edge—her appearance, her courage and despair at the time.
He wasn’t unwilling to figure out who she was or what had happened to her.
However, his several private investigations, even asking Chen Nannan, had all yielded the same answer: nothing had happened on the school’s rooftop.
It was as if only he had experienced that afternoon. Everyone else’s memories of it had been wiped clean.
Over time, Shen An gradually let it fade from his mind, no longer obsessing over what had really happened that day.
Of course, he could have followed the clues and dug deeper—worst case, go back to the hospital and ask the doctors and nurses on duty. He’d surely get some leads.
But was that necessary? Was there any real point?
The answer was no.
After all, to him, who the girl was or what had happened that day didn’t matter much anymore.
He had gradually integrated into this world and built up his own social circle.
Naturally, that girl might be connected to the so-called Healing System.
But Shen An didn’t care. He had no intention of obediently following the system’s missions anyway—it was just a springboard for him.
Even with Zhao Li’s mission, he was only temporarily using the opportunity to settle down.
Otherwise, fresh off the boat with no ID card, he’d starve on the streets soon enough.
He didn’t want such a simple, ugly way to die.
Or get nabbed as an illegal immigrant and thrown in jail—that would hurt too.
Either way, when he woke up in the hospital, the nurses had already told him plainly: she had been saved by him.
The girl hadn’t died. That was enough.
Shen An had a clear conscience.
So as he brought it up now, he wasn’t deliberately trying to fish for info from Zhao Qingyu—though it wasn’t entirely absent. He had at least a bit of curiosity.
Mostly, it was just sharing—wanting to share his past with someone close.
If Zhao Qingyu knew something and could tell him who the girl was, great.
If not, no big deal.
He could just chalk it up to a good Samaritan act.
His dazed, halting words left the listening Zhao Qingyu a bit bewildered.
Especially when he stopped midway—it made her feel restless.
She couldn’t help shaking his arm, a hint of coquetry in her voice. “Come on, tell me already.”
“A month ago, before I officially enrolled.”
Shen An began slowly. “I was staying at a small motel near the school. I wanted to get there early, even though enrollment wasn’t processed yet. A day or two wouldn’t matter.”
“Mm, and then?” Zhao Qingyu stared at him intently.
“Staying alone in the motel was too boring, so I found a way to sneak in quietly. I wanted to see if the place where I’d spend the next four years really matched what I’d imagined.”
“Then I wandered around the school and ended up on the rooftop of the teaching building by accident.”
Rooftop?
Zhao Qingyu’s expression shifted slightly. Her playfulness receded a bit as she narrowed her eyes. “Mm-hmm~”
“You won’t believe what I saw up there…”
Shen An murmured.
“What did you see? Don’t tell me it was a ghost or something~” Zhao Qingyu teased with a smile.
Shen An chuckled wryly. He turned to look at her and pinched her chin. “Close. I almost did see a ghost.”
“So what did you see?”
“I saw a girl.” Shen An sighed. “A girl standing on the edge of the rooftop railing, ready to jump at any moment.”
Suddenly, the hand Zhao Qingyu was holding tightened with fierce force.
It was unconscious on her part.
Shen An paused. “Scared you?”
Zhao Qingyu scooted closer to him. “A little…”
“Ha~ I was scared too. I had no idea what was going on or who she was.”
“But I didn’t have time to figure it out, because half her foot was already over the edge.”
Shen An said softly, “I rushed forward right away and tried to talk to her, hoping to talk her down.”
“But I underestimated her resolve… and her despair.”
“The wind howling across the rooftop drowned out my voice. Then, without hesitation, she jumped.”
“My heart clenched. My mind went blank—I don’t even remember what I was thinking. I just knew I couldn’t stand there and watch her turn into… a cold corpse.”
Shen An stroked Zhao Qingyu’s hair as he recalled it, oblivious to the strange glint in her eyes.
“So I didn’t think twice—no hesitation. I charged forward to grab her.”
“Maybe it was the adrenaline kicking in, but I actually managed to grab her!”
“I was thrilled, but also terrified.”
“The moment my hand grabbed hers, in a way, we were connected as one.”
“I was afraid she’d drag me down with her, but even more afraid she’d let go of my hand.”
“So I tried my best to talk her through it. I don’t even know what I said—just… trying to give her some light to hold on for, some reason to live.”
“She seemed to say something to me, or maybe nothing at all…”
“I just remember her eyes. Those eyes… they were beautiful. In that moment, I felt even more pity for her.”
“I thought, how could such pretty eyes just close forever like that?”
“I tried even harder to convince her, pleading desperately for her to hold tight to my hand and come back with me to safety.”
“But… I overestimated my strength. I couldn’t pull her up alone.”
Shen An gave a self-mocking laugh. “Then, under the pull of gravity, we both plummeted toward the ground below.”
“Damn physics—I can still remember that word.”
Even in the crucial moment, Shen An cracked a joke.
Zhao Qingyu stayed silent, just watching him, waiting tensely for the rest.
“As we fell, all I heard was the roaring wind— so loud, so piercing.”
“Then… nothing.”
Shen An sounded a bit wistful. “When I woke up, I was already in a hospital room.”
“These wounds on my back are from the fall.”
“But…”
Shen An said in a low voice, “Although I was injured, I’m fine.”
“Her… I don’t know.”
“I asked the nurses at the hospital, and they said they didn’t know either.”
Shen An once again wove his lies seamlessly into the truth.
“Later, I made my own way back to the hotel. I pulled up the news, hoping to find some reports.”
“You know how it is—a student falling from a building at a university would be major news anywhere.”
“But… strangely enough, there wasn’t a single story about it. Not even the newspapers mentioned it.”
“That girl—whether she lived or died… I don’t know. I really hope she made it through alive, safe and sound just like me.”
Shen An clutched his forehead, his frustration and helplessness tugging at Zhao Qingyu’s heart.
She couldn’t help pulling him closer, guiding his head to rest against her chest. “You’ve already done amazingly well.”
Mmm~
The warm, soft flesh pressed against his cheek, leaving Shen An a little entranced…
It was so incredibly soft.
And there was a faint, enticing fragrance.
“Do you know what shocked me even more?”
With his face buried in Zhao Qingyu’s ample bosom, inhaling the sweet scent wafting from her voluptuous curves, Shen An murmured, “After I enrolled, I asked around quite a bit.”
“I wanted to know what had happened that day—what had become of that girl.”
“But they all claimed they didn’t know. They said nothing out of the ordinary happened that day.”
“It’s so strange… really strange.”
Shen An lifted his head slightly, gazing up at Zhao Qingyu. “Senior Sister, you… do you know what happened that day? Or have you heard any rumors like that?”
Zhao Qingyu looked down into his puzzled eyes, her voice infinitely gentle. “I only got back on the day you enrolled.”
The implication was clear: she didn’t know what had happened that day either.
“Then… you really haven’t heard anything at all?”
“I’m not sure.” Zhao Qingyu shook her head. “I don’t follow that kind of thing… you know how I am.”
That was true.
Zhao Qingyu had zero interest in idle gossip. She only tuned in when it involved someone she cared about.
“Then… you… your family has a special standing at the school.”
“Could you… check into it for me?”
“The school must have some official records, right?” Shen An pressed.
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes. “You want to know who that girl is?”
“No, I just want to know if she survived.”
Shen An shook his head. “Maybe you’ve never been through something like this, Senior Sister, but I… I just want her to be alive.”
“It’s hard to put this feeling into words for you, Senior Sister. I…”
“You know, she was right there in front of you. You grabbed hold of her, convinced you could save her.”
“But she fell anyway—and took you down with her…”
“I’d even be okay if she lived and I didn’t.”
“Sigh, maybe I’m just letting my imagination run wild. Pretend I’m talking nonsense…” Shen An nuzzled against her chest like a spoiled child.
Zhao Qingyu didn’t mind in the slightest. She simply kept stroking his face, murmuring over and over, “You don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re wonderful—really.”
Her other small hand roamed gently across his back.
She traced every scar there with care. Those once hideous marks were now badges of Shen An’s kindness and valor.
You…
You really are wonderful.
Truly…
Zhao Qingyu held him tight, repeating the words silently to herself.
Her heart softened once more, deeply moved.
Anyone would be touched by what Shen An had done.
His courage, his compassion, those scars—they were ironclad proof.
After a long moment of quiet soothing—and after he’d nuzzled contentedly for quite a while—Shen An finally eased away from the warmth of Zhao Qingyu’s chest and lifted his head. “Looks like my storytelling’s gotten better.”
He tilted his head with a grin. “Senior Sister, you fell for it again?”
Zhao Qingyu arched an eyebrow, her lips curving faintly as she said coolly, “I was just playing along.”
“Ah~” Shen An feigned disappointment. “And here I thought I’d fooled you this time, Senior Sister.”
“Tch. Only an idiot would buy that.”
Zhao Qingyu turned and rose from the bath.
“Hey, Senior Sister, you done soaking already?” Shen An called after her.
“I’m going to grab something.”
Zhao Qingyu waved dismissively, snatching up a bath towel and wrapping it snugly around herself.
Watching her retreating figure, Shen An grabbed a towel and draped it over his face. “We’re done for—even Zhao Qingyu doesn’t know…”
“Did I really run into a ghost?”
“Or am I stuck in some dream? Maybe a dream trial or something? All of it the System pulling strings behind the scenes?”
Shen An sank into confusion.
He had clearly woken up in the hospital. Those nurses were real. Even the scars on his back were real.
Yet no one knew about that afternoon. No one knew who that girl was.
This…
Whatever.
As long as he’d saved her, that was enough.
Real or not.
Shen An let it go. No point digging further—not when even Zhao Qingyu was in the dark.
