Chapter 22 Part 1 — What about him? Couldn’t he, too?
Nan Xu’s sudden movement made Xie Hejing freeze. His whole body went rigid, muscles tense as if he’d been struck by a pressure point. He coughed twice, trying to sound casual but failing. “Hey, Nan Xu—let go.”
“Nan Xu!”
When there was still no response, he turned his head. She was still fast asleep, lips moving faintly with indistinct murmurs. Xie Hejing leaned closer to catch her words.
“…Mom…” Nan Xu whispered weakly in her sleep.
Xie Hejing: “…”
The moment he understood, his urge to get up only grew stronger.
But Nan Xu, burning with fever, sensed his movement. Dreaming that she was clinging to her mother, she grew anxious. Her grip tightened, her voice breaking into sobs, as if on the verge of waking.
If she struggled any more, the IV needle would get pulled right out. Irritated but helpless, Xie Hejing sat back down.
Before long, whatever she was dreaming of made her tremble all over. Her arms around his waist only tightened, her sobs coming quicker and quicker.
It was the first time he’d seen her like this. Completely at a loss, Xie Hejing blurted out, “Stop crying.”
Then he realized she couldn’t possibly hear him.
His mind told him to leave her be.
But his body moved on instinct.
Glancing around and finding no one there, he hesitated for a long moment before finally lifting a hand. Awkwardly, stiffly, he patted her shoulder—copying the way Zhang Huiwan used to soothe him to sleep when he was a child.
The movements were stiff, even clumsy, but they worked. Slowly, Nan Xu’s sobs quieted. Only now and then did she murmur something under her breath.
Some of it he caught. Some of it was too soft to hear.
. . . . .
“Bro… ther.” The word slipped out softly.
“…Huh?!” Xie Hejing’s eyes snapped open. His taut nerves tightened again—had she just called him?
He stared hard at her. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing steady.
Bending closer, even his breathing slowed as he strained to listen, desperate to hear her say it again. To know whether he was imagining things from exhaustion.
But as if deliberately teasing him, Nan Xu only smacked her lips lightly and drifted deeper into sleep, silent.
Xie Hejing let out a slow breath. If not for the fact that she was sick and unconscious, he would’ve suspected she was doing it on purpose just to mess with him.
Straightening up, he lowered his gaze to her sleeping face, muttering with a mix of annoyance and resentment, “You’d better not call me that again.”
He had stayed in that position the whole night, and by morning his body was stiff. At six o’clock, when the sky outside was just beginning to lighten and the cold was at its peak, Xie Hejing shivered from the chill.
His jacket was draped over Nan Xu’s arms where she still clung to him.
She slept on, the panic that had clouded her brows finally easing.
Xie Hejing glanced at the clock on the wall, weighing when—and how—he should pry her hand off. The last thing he wanted was for Zhang Huiwan to walk in and see them tangled up like this.
When he turned sideways to check the clock, the movement twisted his jacket around his waist, opening gaps where the cold wind slipped in. Nan Xu felt the chill against her arm and instinctively leaned closer to the warmth beside her.
The arm around his waist tightened. Xie Hejing glanced down at her but didn’t notice anything unusual. It was only when he saw the jacket sliding off that he realized what had happened and quickly pulled it back over her.
“Liu Chengyi.” This time Nan Xu’s murmur was clear.
Xie Hejing immediately sensed that she was reliving the KTV incident in her dream. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and sure enough, she went on mumbling: “Don’t scold me.”
Her lips pouted, brows furrowed tightly—she looked on the verge of tears.
He had no choice but to reach out and gently pat her again. After practicing it all night, the motion now came almost naturally.
“Brother…” The word he had been waiting for all night suddenly slipped from her lips.
Xie Hejing was slightly taken aback, but the corners of his brows arched despite himself. His reply came out soft, almost tender, yet tinged with a trace of pride: “Brother is here.”
The moment the words left his mouth, even he was stunned by how gentle he sounded.
His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t say another word.
Thankfully, there was no one else in the hospital room—no one to witness this strange, unfamiliar side of him.
And luckily, Nan Xu was still asleep.
Xie Hejing exhaled in relief.
Thank God… Thank God…
But the next second, when he lifted his eyes, he met Nan Xu’s dark gaze. She was awake—and smiling at him, her eyes curved like crescent moons.
!!!
Xie Hejing’s face froze instantly, his eyes widening. Every word he might have said clogged in his throat.
“Brother, were you just—”
“No.” He cut her off with a sharp denial.
He stood up at once, hastily shrugging on his jacket as if to erase everything from last night—including that one slip of the tongue.
Why had he cared about her? Damn it, what was wrong with him? Regret gnawed at him.
Nan Xu watched his flustered movements and kindly asked, “Brother, where are you going?”
Anywhere. As long as it’s far from here.
Without answering, Xie Hejing quickened his pace, snatched up his phone, and stormed out the door.
He happened to run into Zhang Huiwan, who was bringing food. Seeing his hurried figure, she asked, “Hejing, where are you rushing off to?”
His face was cold as he replied, “Going home to grab some books, then to school.”
When Zhang Huiwan entered the ward, she turned to Nan Xu. “What’s wrong with your Brother Hejing? He didn’t look well.”
Nan Xu honestly didn’t know. She only remembered, in that hazy space between dream and wakefulness, someone gently soothing her nightmares, making her feel safe—safe in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. But before she had the chance to ask about it after waking, Xie Hejing had already left in a rush.
She looked at Aunt Zhang, still unsure whether the person from last night had been Aunt Zhang or Xie Hejing. Her heart leaned toward Xie Hejing, but that was impossible.
Would Xie Hejing really comfort someone like that? And why had he rushed out just now?
“Jiaojiao?” Aunt Zhang called.
Nan Xu snapped out of her thoughts. “Ah, Auntie, I don’t know either. Maybe he had something to do at school!”
Aunt Zhang had taken leave to take care of Nan Xu. That morning, Nan Xu’s condition had seemed better—she even mentioned wanting to go to school in the afternoon. But around nine o’clock, her fever spiked again, giving Aunt Zhang a scare. Any thought of leaving was firmly put aside; she had to stay in the hospital.
By the time Xie Hejing came after school, Aunt Zhang had just gone home to handle work.
When Nan Xu saw him again, he was back to his usual self. Expressionless, he pulled her practice book out of his bag and said, curt as ever, “Write.”
Nan Xu wanted to ask about what happened this morning, but his look shut her up instantly.
“Okay.”
She worked through the other subjects and then threw herself into physics. But when she hit a block, that strange heat from the night before seemed to rise again, making her lightheaded. Frustrated, she let out a heavy sigh.
Seeing she was at her limit, Xie Hejing took the notebook from her and began scribbling formulas across the page.
Once she started to catch on, he stopped to let her think for herself, then added, “From now on, I’ll tutor you in physics. I’ll summarize the tricky question types and key points for you.”
“Okay!” Nan Xu nodded. In that instant, she caught sight of the dark circles under his eyes.
Last night… it must have been him.
Her gaze lingered on him, which quickly put him on guard. Afraid she’d bring up what happened in the morning, he cleared his throat and said, “It wasn’t like I wanted to, you—”
“Thank you, Brother Hejing.” Nan Xu interrupted, her tone completely sincere.
Whether it was him or not, whether he had wanted to or not—she should thank him.
Xie Hejing froze, cut off mid-sentence. Her sudden gratitude left him stunned. He turned his face aside, voice dropping low. “Mm.”
After finishing another page, Nan Xu couldn’t stand seeing the fatigue etched into his features. “Brother, you should rest a bit. Why don’t you sleep on the bed? I’ve already been lying down all day—I’ll take a walk outside.”
“No need.” He kept looking at her mistakes, but her words echoed in his head. After a pause, he said, “Don’t wander off.”
“Then at least go rest on the sofa over there. I promise I won’t run around.”
He looked at her, weighing her words for a long moment before agreeing. “Mm.”
He had stayed up all night and forced himself through a day of classes. As soon as he lay down on the sofa, he drifted into sleep.
Nan Xu quietly tidied up the books, then found a blanket to cover him. She pulled out her phone to reply to a friend’s messages.
Qi Zhiyu: [Baby Xuxu, I talked it over with my mom. After exams, I can come visit you for a whole week.]
Nan Xu’s face lit up: [Wow, that’s amazing! When you come, I’ll take you to eat all the good stuff.]
Qi Zhiyu: [And it won’t just be me—there’s someone else too. Guess who?]
Nan Xu thought for only a moment before replying: [Jiang Qiyi.]
Besides Qi Zhiyu, Jiang Qiyi was her best friend at Zhi’an No. 3 High School. It could only be the two of them.
Qi Zhiyu: [Smart.]
Qi Zhiyu: [When the time comes, make sure to take us around and have some fun, Xuxu.]
Nan Xu smiled: [As you command.]
Exiting her chat with Qi Zhiyu, Nan Xu’s eyes were drawn to the name “Liu Chengyi” on her screen, and in an instant, her good mood vanished.
Liu Chengyi had sent her a flood of messages. At first, Nan Xu had no intention of reading them, but when she saw the last three characters—[I’m sorry]—she changed her mind and tapped in.
The apology had been sent around 11:30 the night before. It wasn’t just a short message, but paragraphs of what looked like little essays, as if he were terrified she wouldn’t forgive him. Between the lines there was even a sense of fear—he admitted he was wrong and begged Nan Xu not to send anyone after him.
Nan Xu was baffled. When did I ever send anyone to look for him?
There were countless messages, the notification already at “99+.” Her thumb grew sore from scrolling before she finally reached the end of his apology.
Nan Xu was good-natured, but she wasn’t the type to forgive blindly. She had no intention of replying to Liu Chengyi. Instead, she decisively blocked and deleted him.
Because of her recurring fever, Nan Xu had stayed in the hospital for five days before finally being discharged.
Zhang Huiwan wanted her to rest at home longer—after all, with Xie Hejing around, her schoolwork wouldn’t fall behind. But Nan Xu felt she was more efficient at school, so Zhang Huiwan eventually agreed to let her return.
The moment she arrived at school, Xiang Weishi and Wen Qi came rushing over, bombarding her with questions.
They’d wanted to visit when they first heard she was sick, but Nan Xu had stubbornly refused to give them her address. In the end, they gave up and instead pulled her aside to chatter about the latest class gossip.
Only when class began did the two finally quiet down.
Nan Xu gripped her pen and let out a long, quiet sigh. Just recovering from illness, her energy was still low; she nearly couldn’t keep up. She stifled coughs but still ended up coughing uncontrollably.
No one in class paid attention to the sound. But a few minutes later, Xie Hejing suddenly turned his head, catching her gaze. She mouthed silently, “What’s wrong?”
Without speaking, he quickly passed her a note.
Nan Xu discreetly unfolded it and read the words:
“Not feeling well?”
Beneath those words seemed to be more, but Xie Hejing had scribbled them out with his pen. Nan Xu puzzled over it for a while, unable to figure out what he’d originally written.
His handwriting had a distinct style—sharp, angular strokes, each line decisive and clean. Completely different from her own rounded script. More than once, she’d caught herself marveling at how striking his handwriting looked in her notebooks. How did he even practice to get this good?
But knowing Xie Hejing’s personality, he was definitely not someone who’d sit down and practice diligently. It had to be natural talent.
That was the downside of written notes—she couldn’t hear his tone of concern. Just imagining it gave her a strange little thrill.
What a pity.
Still, the fact that he’d even written her a note was already something. Unconsciously, Nan Xu’s lips curved upward, before she quickly pressed them down again for fear someone might notice her smiling to herself.
Just as she was about to write back, Xie Hejing turned around again. Nan Xu quickly shook her head, signaling that she was fine.
Since the note no longer needed to be passed back, she started tucking it into her pencil case—only then noticing that the little slip of paper was crumpled, as if it had been balled up tightly in someone’s palm for a long time before finally being smoothed out.
She slowly rubbed the edge of the note, then gave up the idea of slipping it into her pencil case and instead tucked it between the pages of her book to keep.
The homeroom teacher, Qi Zhixin, came in with the exam schedule in hand. After taping it to the wall and taking a sip of tea, he reminded the class, “This is your last final exam. Next time, it’ll be the college entrance exam. I hope every one of you takes this seriously and achieves your ideal results.”
During finals week, temperatures in Zhi’an had dropped sharply. Zhang Huiwan had repeatedly reminded the two kids to dress warmly.
Worried about catching another cold, Nan Xu put on four layers before stepping out the next morning—only to bump right into Xie Hejing passing by.
Her brows knitted slightly. He was wearing only two thin layers, his jacket flimsy at best. Wasn’t he cold?
Usually, whenever Nan Xu asked him such things, Xie Hejing ignored her outright. She pressed her lips together—well, it was only a casual question anyway.
But later, when she went to the school store with Wen Qi to buy heat packs, Xie Hejing came to mind again.
The classrooms at No. 1 High School had heating, but the higher the floor, the weaker the warmth. On top of that, the school required every class to keep both doors and windows open for ventilation.
After just one class, even with four layers, Nan Xu was freezing. Wen Qi, who was naturally sensitive to the cold, was shivering too. They agreed to go buy heat packs.
Still, Nan Xu found it hard to believe Xie Hejing could really handle the cold in just two layers.
“Qiqi, I noticed today Xie Hejing only wore two layers. Has he always been this resistant to the cold?”
Wen Qi was picking through the heat packs. Hearing Nan Xu’s question, she found it a little strange. Since when did Nan Xu start asking about him? Haven’t they always kept their distance? But she didn’t overthink it.
“He’s always been like that. But this afternoon the temperature’s supposed to drop sharply, and they’re saying this winter’s the coldest Zhi’an’s seen in years. Not sure if he’ll be able to take it.”
Nan Xu’s gaze fell on a few packs of heat pads on the shelf. Without hesitation, she grabbed all of them. “Let’s go, time to pay.”
“Xuxu, why are you buying so many?” Wen Qi stared at the pile in shock. “Tomorrow’s the exam—you won’t even need this many at home!”
“It’s fine. Come on.”
Back in class with her arms full of heat packs, Nan Xu fretted over how to give them to Xie Hejing. After thinking it through, she decided the only way was to wait until the long break, when everyone went downstairs, and secretly slip them into his desk.
She had just stuffed the packs in, clapped the dust from her hands, and turned around—only to run right into Xie Hejing, who had come back for something.
Nan Xu froze on the spot. After a beat, she forced out an awkward laugh. “What a coincidence, haha.”
But Xie Hejing clearly wasn’t about to let her brush it off. He tilted his chin toward the desk. “What did you just put in there?”
Reluctantly, Nan Xu pulled the items back out, her gaze lowered. “The temperature’s dropping this afternoon. It’ll get even colder. I don’t want you catching a cold, Classmate Xie.”
For a brief moment, Xie Hejing just stared at the pink heat packs, his eyes flickering with something almost out of character—dazed, almost vulnerable. But it was quickly masked by the familiar sharpness in his gaze. He gave a careless smile. “‘Classmate Xie’? What’s this—are you worried about me?”
“Mm.”
Nan Xu recalled their earlier conversation about how she should address him. Right, it wasn’t supposed to be ‘Classmate Xie’.
“Brother, don’t catch a cold,” she said seriously.
The nonchalance in his eyes slowly dimmed, though his tone stayed casual. “Ahem… not necessary.”
And yet, in the days that followed, it was impossible not to notice the sight of a pink, cutesy heat pack peeking out of Xie Hejing’s uniform pocket—so wildly out of place with his style that it almost seemed comical.
Whenever Xiang Weishi’s hands got cold, he would sneakily fish the heat pack out of Xie Hejing’s pocket. But within seconds, Xie Hejing would always take it back, accompanied by three curt words:
“Don’t touch it.”
Xiang Weishi had even joked once that he guarded that heat pack like it was treasure.