Chapter 10 —Finish what you were saying, I’m too what?
To be honest, Nan Xu felt a bit uneasy about those words.
The way it sounded already had that classic “meet me after school to settle a score” vibe, and coupled with Xie Hejing’s rather cold and harsh voice, the feeling became even more intense.
She really couldn’t figure out how she might have offended him again.
If she had to guess, maybe it was that “Brother” she’d blurted out this morning.
After all, Xie Hejing had made it very clear before: outside of home, the two of them had nothing to do with each other.
So at school, Nan Xu did her best to avoid him. They spoke so little to each other that it was as if they were complete strangers.
Even when the four of them ate together in the cafeteria and she often ended up sitting across from him, they never exchanged so much as a glance. Whenever she spoke, Wen Qi and Xiang Weishi would respond warmly—but never Xie Hejing.
How could she have been so careless? Maybe it was because, under Aunt Zhang’s iron rule these past two days, Xie Hejing’s attitude toward her had softened a little. He’d even asked her what she wanted to eat. That tiny bit of warmth had made her lower her guard.
The dismissal bell rang right on time, but Nan Xu stayed put, quietly working through problems without even lifting her head once—though her mind was drifting elsewhere entirely.
Only when the classroom noise slowly faded, one classmate after another leaving, and the school broadcast began playing that day’s program—a slow, beautiful song flowing gently through the speakers—did she finally put down her pen.
She looked at her scrap paper. Aside from the scribbled calculations, there were only two words repeated over and over: Don’t go.
Hmph, she definitely wasn’t going.
But… Aunt Zhang had said she was only back for a few days to handle some business. The day after tomorrow, she’d be leaving on another trip—this time for a whole week.
Nan Xu still felt uneasy being alone in that big house, and Xie Hejing’s cooking was really good. She would probably have to rely on him again during this week.
Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the empty seat beside her, wondering if its owner had already gone to the back gate.
She hesitated.
Maybe… she should just go a little later. At least that way, the storm could be delayed.
“Xuxu, why aren’t you leaving yet? It gets dark earlier these days—head home soon,” Wen Qi reminded her as she finished packing her bag.
“Mm, okay. See you tomorrow.” Nan Xu forced a smile.
But the smile quickly faded, growing faint before disappearing altogether.
She checked the time. It had already been half an hour since school ended. The senior building wasn’t far from the back gate—just a fifteen-minute walk. She’d delayed far too long.
“Hey, Nan Xu, did you see Xie Hejing?”
Xiang Weishi came back after dumping the trash, setting the bin back by the back door, breathing hard.
“He… already packed up and left.”
To be precise, he’d left as soon as class ended.
Even though she had her head down writing at the time, Nan Xu hadn’t missed a single movement from the row in front of her.
“Left early again? What’s with him lately? Heading home so soon every day,” Xiang Weishi complained.
Early? That’s not early at all. Isn’t it normal—finish school, go home for dinner, then do homework?
“How long do you guys usually stay out after school?” she asked cautiously.
“Usually? Eight or nine, sometimes ten. We hang out a bit, play some games, just relax. Xie Hejing’s parents are away a lot, and he doesn’t really have a curfew.”
At this point, Xiang Weishi looked completely baffled. “A few days ago I even asked him why he’s been so punctual lately. He said he had to go home and cook. What a joke—just order takeout and be done with it. And since when has Xie Hejing been all about eating healthy and green?”
“I suspect…” Xiang Weishi trailed off, waggling his eyebrows at the empty seat beside him.
Nan Xu caught on quickly. “What?”
“He’s probably training for <King of the Kitchen> or something.” Xiang Weishi said it with a perfectly straight face.
“Pfft…”
Nan Xu couldn’t hold back her laughter.
But only a few seconds later, she sobered. If Xie Hejing had been here and heard that, his face would probably be as dark as thunder.
Right—he was still waiting for her at the back gate.
She glanced at the clock. In the span of just a couple of sentences, another five minutes had slipped by. Nan Xu shot to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Xiang Weishi asked, confused.
Nan Xu stuffed her notebook into her bag. Her hand paused on the strap when she thought she saw a familiar figure standing just outside the back door—Xie Hejing.
Maybe he’d run out of patience and come to block her in the classroom.
Her heart lurched. She hurried her movements. “I just remembered something—I’ve got to go.”
But when she looked again, the figure by the door was gone. Nan Xu frowned.
Did she imagine it?
The path from the classroom building to the back gate was probably the most secluded stretch in the whole school. Since dismissal had been a while ago, she hardly ran into anyone along the way.
A bamboo grove lined the path. At first, students had thought it was a nice place to enjoy some fresh air, but then strange rumors started to spread—about hearing sobbing among the bamboo at dusk.
At first no one believed it, but after a few claimed they had heard it themselves, the grove gradually became something of a forbidden spot. Fewer and fewer people came by.
Nan Xu glanced at the setting sun far off on the horizon. The warm orange glow reassured her a little—it meant there was still light left.
She wasn’t familiar with the school’s ghost stories. But she hadn’t known the way to the back gate, so during break that morning she’d asked Wen Qi. Wen Qi had pointed it out—and, with no shortage of enthusiasm, shared all the creepy rumors along with it.
Now, facing the rustling bamboo ahead, the sun dipping behind the hills, the wind stirring fallen leaves around her feet, Nan Xu’s heart thudded violently in her chest.
Bracing herself, she pressed forward—until suddenly a building loomed into view. A half-fallen sign hung above it, with the words: Equipment Room.
An abandoned equipment room.
Goosebumps broke out all over her skin. Nan Xu drew a deep breath as she hurried past, not daring to glance inside.
But just as she was about to pass it—
Creeaak—
The door swung open.
Nan Xu kept her head down, pretending she hadn’t heard a thing. But then, a hand shot out from inside and yanked her in.
In a flash, she froze, her breath caught in her throat, on the verge of screaming.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
At once, the faint, sharp scent of cedar drifted in—like the chill of cold air, cool and distant.
She knew that scent—Xie Hejing.
With her head tilted back, Nan Xu lowered her gaze. Her lashes, dark as crow feathers, trembled ever so slightly, betraying the panic still coursing through her.
She noticed the faintest mole on the back of his hand, right along a vein. As his grip tightened, the mole shifted up and down. Somehow, the sight steadied her racing heart.
When he saw her calm down, Xie Hejing let go. Dropping his gaze, he watched her trying to catch her breath, and said flatly, “Took some effort to get you here. An hour.”
Nan Xu was still patting her chest, brows furrowed. She must have walked too slowly on the way, delaying him that long.
Clearing her throat, she asked cautiously, “What… did you want to talk to me about?”
Xie Hejing remained silent, simply ignoring her.
Outside, a sudden gust of wind rattled the old, rotting windows. The sound carried an eerie wail to it, and Nan Xu suddenly understood the rumors about this place.
Still, she had no desire to stay in the abandoned equipment room any longer.
She stole a glance. The room was filled with dusty desks and chairs, except for the one before her—where Xie Hejing leaned back, posture straight and composed. He seemed completely unfazed by the unsettling noises around them.
His hands were in his pockets. A soft light streamed in from the window, and Nan Xu saw his profile: smooth lines, a lazy expression, and lowered eyelashes. The young man’s maturing Adam’s apple looked a little prominent.
One foot propped casually on a broken-legged stool.
Back and forth, he rocked it.
Nan Xu stayed silent. He stayed silent.
The creaking filled the room.
Xie Hejing was too good at wearing people down.
Until finally, Nan Xu couldn’t take it anymore. She spoke, shattering the tense stillness.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you ‘Brother’.”
Head bowed, she looked every bit like a child admitting her mistake.
At her words, the creaking stopped. Xie Hejing’s lashes lifted slightly, and at the mention of her calling him ‘Brother’, he let out a cold laugh.
Then he remembered the sight of Nan Xu’s hand resting on Xiang Weishi’s arm. His gaze dropped to her right hand.
Her nails were neatly trimmed, faintly pink, her slender white fingers clutching the hem of her shirt—betraying her nervousness.
Finally, he spoke.
“What, playing brother-sister games with Xiang Weishi isn’t enough? You want to play them with me too?”
“Nan Xu, weren’t you supposed to be such a good girl?”
“Has your true nature been revealed?”
He lowered the foot resting on the stool, bent at the waist, and leveled his gaze with hers.
His voice was unexpectedly lazy, his posture even more casual, yet Nan Xu still caught a faint sense of pressure in it.
She even felt as if the air around her had been taken away, making it hard to breathe.
Biting her lip, she stepped back.
Xie Hejing noticed her retreat, raised an eyebrow, straightened up, and half-sat on the desk with his arms crossed, watching her lazily.
“I wasn’t playing any brother–sister game with him. I was actually going to call you today, but I was afraid he might misunderstand.” Nan Xu blurted out in one breath.
Xie Hejing paused for a few seconds but still didn’t speak, so Nan Xu hurried on.
“And he’s actually really nice. He didn’t embarrass me—he even helped me pick up my vocabulary notebook.”
Xiang Weishi, nice?
Then who wasn’t nice? Who did embarrass her? Who didn’t help her pick up a notebook—who was that supposed to be?
Xie Hejing narrowed his eyes.
Blinking her big eyes at him, Nan Xu didn’t understand why, after she had explained herself, he looked no more at ease. Instead, his brows were furrowed, and he seemed faintly angry.
Half a minute passed…
“You like him?” Xie Hejing bit off the words, his brows sinking, not realizing his fingers in his pocket were slowly clenching.
“Like…” Nan Xu’s throat caught. Three seconds later she realized who he meant. “Xiang Weishi?”
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and she rushed to deny it: “No way.”
“No way?” Xie Hejing repeated.
Nan Xu nodded, then felt it wasn’t enough and nodded again, more firmly. “Mm, no way.”
Xie Hejing’s lips pressed into a thin line. A few seconds later, Nan Xu finally heard him say:
“One game, one companion is enough.”
“Game… companion…”
Nan Xu didn’t understand what he meant.
“Don’t go messing with anyone else.” He paused, met her confused gaze, and said it outright. “Don’t call Xiang Weishi ‘Brother’ again. Even if he agrees, it’s not allowed.”
His voice was heavy. Nan Xu couldn’t help but be drawn in by his eyes.
That gaze—like a wild wolf closing in on prey, deciding whether she could be devoured piece by piece. It was wild, dangerous, predatory.
The wind outside grew stronger, howling like ghosts around them. Nan Xu’s heart trembled. With that terrifying look in his eyes and those incomprehensible words, she suddenly felt a wave of grievance rise in her chest.
Before she knew it, tears spilled from her eyes without warning.
“W–what game? What messing with people? I didn’t mess with anyone. Why did you have to bring me to such a scary place? You’re too—”
“Who’s there?” A rough male voice suddenly shouted from outside.
Nan Xu’s protest was cut short. Her lashes fluttered as she turned toward the sound.
Flashlight beams pierced through the window glass. By now school had been over for quite a while, the students long gone, and even the security guards had begun their patrol.
Seeing the light, Xie Hejing turned his head. Catching sight of Nan Xu’s reddened eyes and the teardrops clinging to her chin, he froze for a split second—then reacted quickly, pulling her down with him under the desk.
The frigid scent grew even stronger, and tears welled up in Nan Xu’s eyes. She couldn’t help but make her breathing very, very soft.
Because with every tiny inhale, her nose was filled with that scent—chilling, yet strangely alluring.
The shimmer of tears in her eyes slowly faded.
The security guard drew closer, and the flashlight beam grew brighter.
“Who’s there? Which student is hiding in there? Come out now, or I’ll call the grade director!”
Nan Xu hadn’t been at school for long, but she had already seen the grade director a few times—his temper was notoriously bad, often scolding students until they cried all the way from his office back to class.
Hearing the voice getting closer, Nan Xu’s breath tightened. She reached out and clutched Xie Hejing’s sleeve, gripping harder the nearer the guard came.
Just as the guard reached the window and shone his flashlight inside, Xie Hejing shifted, pulling Nan Xu further in with him.
The space between them vanished in an instant.
Nan Xu held her breath. At this distance, she could easily make out the excessive length of his lashes, the straight bridge of his nose, and the warmth radiating from him.
But in doing so, they stayed safely out of the guard’s line of sight.
The flashlight swept across a pile of broken equipment, revealing nothing of the two crouched under the desk. After pausing a while and convinced nothing was amiss, the guard finally left.
Xie Hejing was the first to stand, while Nan Xu remained squatting on the ground.
He reached down and pulled her up—meeting a pair of clear, black-and-white eyes, pure as autumn waters, innocent and bewildered.
Xie Hejing’s breath caught. His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times before he tilted his chin slightly, the corner of his lips curving upward.
“Finish what you were saying. I’m too what?”
Nan Xu drew in a breath. Seeing the faint smile flickering in his eyes, she said sharply—
“You’re too mean.”