Chapter 22 Part 1

Lin Xuqing’s wounds weren’t too serious; a trip to the ER seemed like overkill. Jiang Min kept an emergency first-aid kit in her car, but after a moment’s thought, she decided to drive around looking for a nearby small clinic first—and if she couldn’t find one, she’d treat them herself.

Following her navigation, she found a small clinic—but it wasn’t open.

So the wounds would have to be treated by her own hands after all.

The convenience store on the corner was still open, with hardly anyone inside. Jiang Min led Lin Xuqing in, bought two bottles of water, and sat down on a high stool by the window.

“Give me your hand.”

“Oh… okay.”

Cradling the back of Lin Xuqing’s hand in her left palm, Jiang Min carefully swept a cotton swab across the wounds—and actually managed to pick out a few slivers of glass.

Her tone was cool. “And you said it was nothing?”

“Just a little.”

Lin Xuqing drew in a sharp breath at the sting, yet still sounded unconcerned.

The warmth of her palm flowed steadily over, soft and comforting.

She looked at Lin Xuqing’s wounds; Lin Xuqing looked at her.

“Always so stubborn,” Jiang Min chided her in a soft murmur, quickly disinfecting the wounds—and, as if afraid it hurt, gently blowing on them.

It tickled a little.

Lin Xuqing instinctively moved to pull her hand back, but Jiang Min held it. “Don’t move.”

“Oh…” Lin Xuqing’s gaze had nowhere to settle, drifting this way and that, finally landing on the ends of her hair. “No need for the ointment. I don’t like applying ointment.”

“Then I’ll just wrap it lightly with sterile gauze. The cuts are fairly shallow—they should be fine.”

Lin Xuqing nodded. “Back then, I said it was fine too.”

Jiang Min shot her a look that said be quiet.

Lin Xuqing obediently stopped.

Jiang Min took sterile gauze from the first-aid kit and bandaged the wounds with care.

She bowed her head, and strands of hair slipped down, partially blocking her view. She swept them back, but the moment she lowered her head again, they fell once more. She gave up on them.

Her fair face appeared and vanished between the strands, her expression gentle and serene, her gaze focused and earnest—the kind that made one want, instinctively, to draw closer.

Watching her, Lin Xuqing instinctively reached out her left hand and tucked that strand of hair behind her ear.

Jiang Min had just finished the bandaging; she paused and lifted her head—straight into Lin Xuqing’s dark, deep eyes.

Lin Xuqing realized the audacity of what she’d done and hastily withdrew her hand, her fingertips closing and opening at a loss. It took her a long moment to find her breath again. “…Thank you.”

“It was nothing.”

Jiang Min returned the unused gauze to the kit and added a few instructions. “It’s just a basic treatment. Keep an eye on the wounds—it’s cold lately, so they shouldn’t get inflamed.”

At that, she suddenly thought: Lin Xuqing had only been working here a short while—why did she keep getting hurt?

No, that wasn’t right… last time had been for work. But this time wasn’t.

“Wait while I clean up, then we’ll go.”

Jiang Min wrapped the used cotton swabs in a tissue and gathered up the rest of the trash as well.

A tender, mellow old song played in the store; time itself seemed to flow more slowly. Their two figures were reflected in the glass window.

Lin Xuqing looked at those reflections, drifting into a light trance.

Jiang Min had barely finished cleaning up when her phone rang.

It was Mi Wei. “Senior Sister, are you back? Sister Ning Rou just woke up and is asking where you are.”

Only then did Jiang Min remember all the mess still waiting to be dealt with.

Ning Rou had been frightened earlier and only fallen asleep after half an hour of soothing. According to Wen Jun, Zhao Yan was still cursing and carrying on at the complex gate, refusing to leave. Jiang Xuezi and Mi Wei were cleaning up the wreckage in the living room—presumably planning to wait for her return before leaving.

“Senior Sister? Are you listening?”

Jiang Min came back to herself. “Got it.”

She hung up, but before she could speak, Lin Xuqing stood up first. “Hurry back and stay with Sister Ning Rou. The wounds are treated—I’m really fine. I’ll just take a cab home.”

Jiang Min could only nod. “When you get home tonight, if you shower, keep the wounds away from the water.”

“Got it. I’ve called a ride and set the pickup at the intersection ahead, so you won’t have to turn around. I’m heading there now. You hurry back.”

Coming out of the store, Lin Xuqing stood at the roadside, waved at her, and after a few quick parting words, walked on.

Jiang Min wanted to say more, but Ning Rou’s call came through just then. She wasted no more time, pulled open the car door, got in, and answered.

“Mm, I’m still out.”

“Stay safe at home.”

“I’ll be right back.”

As she spoke, Jiang Min started the car.

In the rearview mirror she caught sight of Lin Xuqing—her lone figure walking along the roadside.

Her—always walking on alone, a solitary silhouette.

Jiang Min drew a deep breath, pulled her gaze away, and drove back.

Back at Ning Rou’s place, Jiang Xuezi and Mi Wei had already cleaned the living room.

“Wen Jun says Zhao Yan finally left. He’s gone too. We’ve finished cleaning up here.”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks needed between us,” Jiang Xuezi said, patting her shoulder. “Ning Rou’s in her room.”

“Mm. You two head home—it’s late.”

“And Little Lin? Did you catch up with her?”

“Her hand was hurt. I treated the wounds. She’s gone home.”

Jiang Xuezi looked at her as if about to say something, then held back, finally only saying, “All right. We’ll be off then.”

Jiang Min saw them into the elevator, and once the doors closed, let out a long breath.

There was still a missed call on her phone—Ning Rou had called while she was driving back. She hadn’t answered.

And a message from Pei Ruyi: A-Min, today is Rourou’s birthday. Keep her good company and cheer her up.

Ever since Ning Zhilan passed away, Pei Ruyi’s concern for Ning Rou had never ceased. Even now that they were long since grown and working, she often reminded Jiang Min to take good care of Ning Rou.

Jiang Min composed herself, walked over, and knocked. “Little Rou, are you asleep? May I come in?”

“Sister A-Min…” Ning Rou sat at the head of the bed hugging a pillow, looking as if she’d just been crying, her voice hoarse. “Come in.”

“Weren’t you tired? Why aren’t you sleeping more?”

Jiang Min sat down. Looking at her haggard face, thinking of that wretched engagement, she didn’t know how to comfort her.

“I can’t sleep. Will you talk with me for a while?”

Ning Rou patted the head of the bed, hoping Jiang Min would stay with her until she fell asleep, the way she had when they were children.

Back then, Ning Zhilan had only just passed, and Pei Ruyi had taken Ning Rou into their home. She couldn’t sleep through the night, and cried the moment she did fall asleep. Pei Ruyi had to rise early to lecture her students, and Jiang Min, afraid her mother wouldn’t rest well, would slip over quietly in the night at the slightest sound from Ning Rou.

“All right. Let’s talk.”

Jiang Min sat on the edge of the bed, but showed no intention of lying down.

Ning Rou looked at her with some disappointment, lowering her eyes.

Jiang Min knew the engagement weighed on her mind, and that she’d had a fright besides, so she made small talk and showed her the photos Pei Ruyi had sent from her travels.

Ning Rou’s attention gradually shifted and her mood improved somewhat—but watching Jiang Min, she felt inexplicably let down.

They were talking, all right, but Jiang Min seemed to be thinking of something else, absent-minded, her responses half a beat slower than usual.

When it neared eleven, Jiang Min stood and tucked in the corner of her blanket. “There. It’s late—rest early tonight. I’ll be in the guest room. Call me if you need anything.”

Ning Rou wanted to call out to her, but held back.

Jiang Min wasn’t the type to change her mind because someone pleaded; if she said she’d sleep in the guest room, she would not budge.

“The blankets are in the cabinet.”

“Mm, I know.”

Earlier in the year, Pei Ruyi had come to see Ning Rou and stayed here a few nights. Jiang Min had accompanied her mother, so she knew the guest room well.

By the time she’d tidied up and lain down, it was nearly midnight. Lights off, Jiang Min lay in the darkness—and suddenly murmured, low: “Lin Xuqing…”

Even she found it funny after saying it.

Calling someone’s name out of nowhere like that—what was she even doing?

The other person couldn’t hear her anyway.

She rolled over, intending to sleep.

But then, for no clear reason, she remembered what Lin Xuqing had said: If Sister Ning Rou were hurt, you’d be very worried.

She remembered the faint, faint smile Lin Xuqing had worn as she said it.

Her thoughts tangled together, and no matter what, she couldn’t sleep.

Tossing and turning, she grew restless and irritable.

……

At six in the morning, Jiang Min woke.

She’d barely slept the night before, only drifting off in a daze around three or four in the morning.

Propping herself up in bed, she felt as if her whole body weighed a thousand jin. She reached up and touched her forehead—slightly hot.

She seemed to be running a low fever.

Jiang Min rested a while before getting up, folding the blanket back into the cabinet. She dressed, picked up her bag, and went out to the living room.

Ning Rou’s room was silent—she was probably sleeping soundly.

Dawn hadn’t fully broken; all around was still and quiet.

Jiang Min softened her footsteps, opened the door, eased it shut behind her, and left.

In the instant the door closed, she even felt a strange, fleeting sense of escape.

She shook her head, smiling.

That feeling was a bit much.

Work hours were still far off, so Jiang Min drove home. Who knew when the fever had started in the small hours—she’d sweated a great deal, her clothes presumably soaked and dried again, deeply uncomfortable to wear.

Home at last, she changed clothes first, then glanced at the time—seven thirty exactly.

Ning Rou would probably wake soon, so she left her a message: I’ve headed out—work today. Rest well. If you feel unwell, ask the Editor-in-Chief for leave.

Jiang Min looked over her schedule. She’d wanted to take the day off, but there was a meeting to arrange the pre-New Year work, and the team dinner that evening was all set.