Chapter 20 — Right now, you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?
The scores for the last monthly exam of the first semester in senior year had been released.
Nan Xu looked at her barely passing physics grade and sighed. Lately, her physics results seemed to be stuck in a strange cycle—always hovering right around the passing line.
This had never really happened before. The physics teacher had even called her in several times, suspecting she had some sort of issue with the subject and trying to counsel her.
But Nan Xu didn’t. She just felt a faint sense of helplessness whenever it came to physics. The only reason she was still holding onto a spot in the top twenty rankings was because of her other subjects.
Her physics workbook sat open on the desk. After getting several questions wrong in a row, she finally gripped her pen tightly, mustered up the courage, and went to ask the class physics expert, Liu Chengyi, for help.
When she returned to her seat, Wen Qi gave a curious little “huh?” and asked,
“Xuxu, why didn’t you ask Xie Hejing? Isn’t he number one in physics?”
Truthfully, Nan Xu did want to ask Xie Hejing. But his frosty expression always made her hesitate. And besides, hadn’t he warned her before to stay away from him?
Either way, asking Liu Chengyi got her the same results—as long as the problem was solved, that was what mattered.
Still, Nan Xu couldn’t help wondering why Xie Hejing had become so cold lately. It was as if, all of a sudden, he’d shut out the world and devoted himself solely to his books.
Even at the dinner table, sitting beside Aunt Zhang, he hardly said a word.
Zhang Huiwan had clearly noticed as well. She picked up some food with her chopsticks and placed it into her son’s bowl, her gaze carrying a trace of doubt.
“Hejing, eat some more.”
Xie Hejing nodded without speaking. He quickly finished what was in his bowl, then set down his chopsticks.
“I’m done. I’ll head upstairs first.”
Nan Xu and Zhang Huiwan exchanged looks, both baffled as they watched him walk away.
In a low voice, Zhang Huiwan asked, “Jiaojiao, since you’re in the same class—have you noticed anything unusual about Hejing lately?”
Nan Xu nodded. “A little. He seems unusually quiet, like he’s lost interest in everything.”
“Do you know why?”
“…No.” Nan Xu answered honestly.
After a pause, Zhang Huiwan frowned, thinking aloud. “Something’s not right. Don’t tell me… did Hejing fall in love early, and then get dumped?”
She had never seen her son like this before. Normally, even when she scolded him, he would joke around and smile it off. But lately, no matter what she said, he would just accept it with a “whatever.” That wasn’t like him at all.
At his age, if a boy got rejected or went through a breakup, it would make sense for him to mope around like this for a while.
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.
But Nan Xu said, “I’ve never seen any girl who seemed especially close to Brother Hejing.”
“Then it must have been a rejection,” Zhang Huiwan said firmly.
Nan Xu widened her eyes. Looking at Aunt Zhang’s determined expression, she started to wonder too. After all, even though she and Xie Hejing were classmates, they weren’t together all the time.
Maybe there was some moment when he confessed and got turned down!
Concerned about her son, who clearly needed some guidance, Zhang Huiwan immediately put down her chopsticks. “I’ll go ask Hejing and comfort him.”
Nan Xu watched her get up, wondering if she should also do something. But before long, Zhang Huiwan came back down from the stairs.
“…Wouldn’t going straight to him like that hurt his pride?”
She hesitated. Teenagers usually had very strong self-esteem and hated being nagged by parents.
Nan Xu bit her lip. If Xie Hejing wasn’t saying anything, it probably meant he didn’t want them to know. Asking him directly really might not be the best idea.
“Probably.”
Zhang Huiwan sat back down and said, “Jiaojiao, help Auntie with something.”
. . . . .
At nine that evening, Nan Xu took her physics workbook and knocked on Xie Hejing’s door.
No one answered the first knock. She waited, but there was still no movement. Taking a step closer, she leaned against the door and listened quietly. Not a sound came from inside.
If she hadn’t known for sure that Xie Hejing hadn’t left his room since going upstairs, she might really have thought no one was in there.
Xie Hejing heard the knock at his door, but he stayed seated at his desk, unmoving, eyes fixed on the sticky note on the wall.
On a square white note, aside from the two characters spelling Nan Xu, the rest of the space was crammed with the word stop written over and over.
Each day he wrote one stop. Before long, the entire note was filled.
He tore off a new one and picked up his pen, ready to write her name again.
But just as he finished the first character, “Nan,” another knock came at the door.
“Brother, are you there? I’ve got a question I can’t solve,” Nan Xu called.
Only then did it hit him—the person he’d been writing was standing right outside.
He finally got up and opened the door, his expression cold. “What is it?”
Nan Xu was used to that chilly face. Smiling, she held up her workbook. “There’s a problem I don’t understand. Can I ask you?”
“No.” Xie Hejing rejected her flatly and was about to shut the door when Aunt Zhang’s voice floated up from downstairs.
She had just picked up her coat and, catching Nan Xu’s eye, raised her brows meaningfully.
“Hejing, what’s wrong with teaching your sister a problem? If you can’t even do that, you’re really not much of a brother,” she scolded.
Nan Xu quickly chimed in, “Exactly…”
Seeing him hesitate, she pushed her advantage. “Brother, I’ve been barely passing physics these past few times. If this keeps up, Old Chen will drag me in for talks every single day. I get so nervous every time. Please, be nice and help me out!”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing.
Sensing his resolve weakening, Nan Xu turned on the flattery. “You’re kind-hearted—everyone loves you…”
She’d always had a sweet tongue. Gentle and smiling with everyone, she hardly ever lost her temper. Whether childhood playmates or the neighborhood aunties, everyone adored her.
Except for Xie Hejing. He’d always found it fake.
Now he wondered—did he really think it was fake? Or was it just because she praised everyone but hardly ever him?
He faltered.
“Everyone loves me?” Xie Hejing let out a sharp laugh.
“…Uh.” Nan Xu’s words faltered. Clearly, even he didn’t believe it. But at this point, she had no choice but to double down. “Of course!”
Before he could respond, Aunt Zhang called again, “What are you still standing there for?”
She turned, grabbing her bag. “Hejing, I’m going to meet a friend. You explain the problem to your sister. Jiaojiao, if you don’t understand something, ask him. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
“Okay, Auntie. Be safe on the way,” Nan Xu replied.
Since Xie Hejing hadn’t outright refused, she assumed he’d agreed. She flipped open her workbook to the right page and stepped forward, ready to go inside.
But he stopped her with a hand across the doorway. Only then did she remember he hated people entering his room. She quickly stepped back several paces, explaining in a rush, “Don’t worry, I won’t go in. We can do it in my room instead?”
Xie Hejing gave a cold snort. “Wait in the living room downstairs.”
Back at his desk, the unfinished note still lay there. But instead of writing the second character of her name, he ripped it off, pressed it firmly against the wall, and left it at that.
Meanwhile, Nan Xu slipped back into her room and placed a big bag of snacks by his door. Aunt Zhang had asked her to gently sound him out—to see just how badly he’d been “rejected”—before deciding whether to step in herself.
Nan Xu figured Aunt Zhang’s guess was probably right, and that she too should do her part to comfort him. She didn’t have any better ideas, so she thought a few snacks might at least cheer him up.
Sure enough, when Xie Hejing came out and saw the bag at his door, his steps faltered. But he quickly looked away and went downstairs.
Nan Xu had already opened her workbook on the coffee table. The moment he arrived, she leaned forward eagerly.
“Brother, this one—why is the answer B?”
The workbook was only a thin little booklet. Sitting together on the sofa to go over a problem meant the two of them inevitably ended up sitting quite close.
To see more clearly, Nan Xu leaned a little closer to his side.
Xie Hejing arched a brow, noticing her shoulder almost brushing against his arm. He didn’t move away, just asked, “Are you cold?”
“No…” Nan Xu followed his gaze, realized just how little space there was between them, and her face heated instantly. “I… didn’t notice.” She quickly shifted back a little.
Xie Hejing glanced at the question, grabbed a sheet of scrap paper, and began working it out.
“You can write on my book,” Nan Xu said hurriedly.
She had a habit of writing the steps right beside the problem, so she wouldn’t have to go searching for them later.
But Xie Hejing ignored her, lowering his head as he scribbled, and muttered, “Why would I write over Liu Chengyi’s handwriting?”
Nan Xu shrugged. She didn’t dare bring it up again—he was already doing her a favor by explaining at all. Besides, she still had to use this chance to carry out Aunt Zhang’s request.
She decided to take it slowly, easing into the topic. After he finished explaining the problem, she casually asked, “Brother, that girl who gave you a love letter last time—how are things going with her?”
Xie Hejing paused mid-spin of his pen, replying offhandedly, “Wasn’t the one who gave me a love letter… you?”
Her wording had been ambiguous. Nan Xu turned her head, ready to explain—only to meet his gaze.
Those eyes, with their faint, teasing smile—just like the day she’d handed over that letter for someone else. He’d looked at her with this same expression then, mouth curving lazily as he asked, “You wrote it?”
Nan Xu’s eyes flickered, and she quickly looked away. “…I meant the one who actually wrote you a love letter.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Xie Hejing twirled his pen slowly. “Don’t know.”
“She didn’t sign her name in the letter?”
“Didn’t read it.”
Nan Xu: “…”
That killed the conversation on the spot. She racked her brain for another angle, but time slipped by.
“Hey. Any more questions? If not, I’m heading upstairs.” Xie Hejing tossed the pen onto the coffee table with a soft clack.
The sound jolted Nan Xu back. “Yes, yes, I do.”
She picked a tricky problem this time. “I only managed the first part,” she said, then handed the workbook to him like a treasure. “Thank you, Brother.”
Xie Hejing took it, his gaze lingering on her for only a second. She was smiling at him with bright, crescent-shaped eyes.
He couldn’t stop himself from wondering—
Did she smile at Liu Chengyi like this too?
Nan Xu, meanwhile, kept her eyes on the workbook but her mind was elsewhere.
Which girl had Brother Hejing been close to recently? Had she missed something?
They sat at the little coffee table, each lost in their own thoughts.
Nan Xu stayed properly in her seat, not daring to disturb him while he worked. She only stole glances at him from the corner of her eye, afraid he’d suddenly look at her again the way he had earlier—that strange look that left her breath quickening and her mind in chaos, unable even to meet his gaze.
After a moment’s hesitation, she clenched her fists, gave herself a silent pep talk, and continued the earlier thread. “Brother, at least look at it. If you were the one confessing, and the other person ignored you like that, wouldn’t you feel hurt too?”
Hearing her earnest tone, Xie Hejing chuckled. Slowly, he called her name: “Nan Xu.”
That tone—she was doomed.
Nan Xu swallowed nervously. “…What is it?”
“The only thing that happens is people confessing to me. I don’t confess to anyone. Got it?”
“…Got it.” Nan Xu nodded so quickly it was almost comical. “Got it.”
Flustered, she turned her eyes away and fell quiet.
“What are you thinking?” Xie Hejing clearly wasn’t about to let her off the hook. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Right now, you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?”
His gaze was so sharp it felt almost tangible, forcing Nan Xu to meet his eyes. She drew in a breath and slowly nodded.
Seeing this, the corners of Xie Hejing’s lips lifted. He looked at her with amusement and spoke softly, “And besides that… Nan Xu, you’ve been thinking about me a lot lately, haven’t you?”
Would she think of him the same way he thought of her?
Nan Xu recalled. Yes—she had been.
She kept feeling that something about him wasn’t right these days, so she often found herself wondering what was wrong. She only wanted to get along with him better.
“Is it just that kind of simple ‘thinking’…” Xie Hejing deliberately paused, his tone languid, “…or something else?”
Nan Xu didn’t answer. Her instincts told her that the current situation was a bit dangerous.
There was a storm swirling in his eyes, like a beast lying in wait, locking onto its prey with a forceful hunger and possessiveness.
“Do you know what it means when you keep thinking about someone of the opposite sex?”
Faced with his burning stare, Nan Xu panicked and turned her head away. “W-what does it mean?” she stammered.
“It means you like him.” Xie Hejing’s voice was low, but it stirred her heart.
Nan Xu’s breath quickened sharply. The air around her seemed to thicken with heat. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, her throat constricted like something was caught there.
Her hands clutched the hem of her shirt, and after a long struggle, she forced out a whisper: “Brother… that’s impossible. Don’t joke around like that.”
“Is that so?” Xie Hejing chuckled faintly.
After a few seconds, he finally looked away. Nan Xu exhaled in relief, and the atmosphere between them dropped back into an icy silence.
She still hadn’t found out what she wanted—Xie Hejing would never confess so easily. Was it just stubborn pride keeping him from admitting it, or was it really not the case?
If it truly wasn’t, then his gloomy mood these days must have another reason. She’d have to find a way to draw it out of him, to comfort him.
Trying to ease the heavy air, Nan Xu smiled and said, “Brother, why do you still call me Nan Xu? My parents, Auntie and Uncle all call me Jiaojiao. Even Qiqi calls me Xuxu. But you keep calling me Nan Xu.”
Xie Hejing looked over. Nan Xu’s fingers curled tighter. “Everyone close to me calls me something else. Only you call me Nan Xu. It feels so… distant.”
“Are we that close?” he countered.
“Of course,” Nan Xu said at once, then faltered. “…aren’t we?”
His eyelids lowered. Something inside him twitched—like an invisible sting, leaving behind a strange numb ache.
His lips parted, forming the words as if for the first time: “Jiao… Jiao.” The unfamiliar sound dissatisfied him, so he tried again. “Nan Jiaojiao.”
Nan Xu shook her head. “No ‘Nan.’ Just Jiaojiao. Like ‘the moon among the clouds, the blossom among the leaves.’ That kind of Jiaojiao.”
“I won’t call you what everyone else does.”
“Nan Jiaojiao sounds like ‘hard to reach,’ I don’t like it,” she argued, then brightened. “If you don’t want to be like everyone else, you can call me A-Jiao.”
But silence followed.
Had he not heard her?
Nan Xu turned her head. He was staring straight at her, the darkness of his eyes sharpened with a knowing glint.
His brow arched slightly, and he gestured to her workbook. “Your mind isn’t really on studying today.”
“Of course it is!” Nan Xu panicked that her little scheme to pry into him had been noticed. Her heart pounded. “If it’s not on this, then—then where would it be?”
Leaning closer, Xie Hejing murmured, “On me.”