chapter 20

They couldn’t put off the guardian issue any longer.

For the past two days, Qiu Rongrong had been trying to get in touch with Uncle Zhou and Aunt Zhou.

At first, she could still get Uncle Zhou on the phone.

But after she called a few more times, he simply stopped picking up.

She felt a little panicked, unsure what she had done wrong.

She read through her sent messages over and over, afraid that some careless turn of phrase had rubbed them the wrong way for no reason.

Sometimes Uncle Zhou would reply with a curt “Mm.” Sometimes it was “Got it.”

Aunt Zhou, on the other hand, hadn’t responded even once.

Qiu Rongrong was annoyed at herself for having so many problems.

She was already just a guest in someone else’s home, and yet she had brought so much trouble to the people hosting her.

No wonder they weren’t answering her messages.

If she still couldn’t get hold of Uncle Zhou and Aunt Zhou, then Qiu Rongrong would be left with only one option: Zhou Jingxing.

Qiu Rongrong sat curled up on the bed with her knees hugged to her chest, like a cracked, sticky porcelain doll fixed in a single pose. She stared at her bare toes, lost in thought, saying nothing.

She didn’t want things to come to that.

She didn’t want their relationship to get complicated.

In the middle of the night, Qiu Rongrong dreamed that there was a stone tied to her neck and she was being sunk into the Nanfei River, like the anchor on a sand-dredging boat, dropping and dropping without end.

She jolted awake from the nightmare, cold sweat clammy on her neck.

Her throat felt itchy. After days of rain and the series of shocks she’d had, her throat was probably inflamed.

She slipped her feet into slippers and went downstairs to make herself a mug of ban lan gen.

The living room windows downstairs hadn’t been closed. Wind and rain had soaked the curtains. When she walked over to the window, a sudden strong gust hit and the wet curtain slapped right across her face.

Qiu Rongrong yanked the curtain away, leaned forward, and pulled the glass window tightly shut.

Rain spattered onto the bit of her forearm that was still outside.

There were no lights on in the yard.

The moment she clicked the glass closed, a small pebble hit the pane with perfect accuracy.

She stared in shock and saw that the man who had kidnapped her before was hiding in the flowerbed. His face was deathly pale, his eyes dark and gloomy, and he had snapped off one of the orchids Uncle Zhou had asked her to take care of.

The man wasn’t holding an umbrella. He stood directly in the rain.

Wind plastered fallen leaves onto his body. He held a battered orchid between his fingers, lifted it to his lips for a gentle kiss, then raised his hand and extended it in Qiu Rongrong’s direction.

Qiu Rongrong immediately locked the window from the inside and yanked the curtains shut, her heart thudding wildly.

She set the unfinished herbal drink down on the table without thinking and hurried upstairs. Her slippers were a bit too big and didn’t fit snugly; one slipped off mid-run.

It tumbled down the stairs to the first floor.

Qiu Rongrong didn’t turn back for it. She ran straight to Zhou Jingxing’s room.

His door was locked.

Qiu Rongrong knocked quickly.

“Gege, open the door.” She was terrified.

There was a faint sound from inside. When Zhou Jingxing opened the door, he was in the middle of buttoning his pajama top.

“What’s wrong, mei-mei?” His voice was husky with sleep, tinged with lazy warmth.

“The man who kidnapped me before is in the flowerbed outside.” Qiu Rongrong pointed toward the dark first floor.

She spoke slowly, one sentence at a time, forcing every word through her mind first so she could be clear, so she wouldn’t sound like she was babbling in some fit of madness.

“Don’t panic. Come in first.” Zhou Jingxing stepped aside to let her in. He glanced down at her one bare foot and slid his own slippers off for her.

“Put these on. Don’t catch a chill.”

His slippers were far too big for her. When she stepped into them, she could still feel the lingering warmth from his feet.

“You stay here. I’ll go take a look at the flowerbed.” Zhou Jingxing was about to head out.

Qiu Rongrong grabbed his hand. Her lips moved. “Do you believe me?”

“Of course.” Zhou Jingxing ruffled her long hair, then guided her to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped her up tightly in his own blanket, bundling her like a zongzi.

“You’re my girlfriend. If I don’t believe you, who else would I believe?”
Only a small desk lamp was lit in the room.

Zhou Jingxing was elegant and refined, his demeanor gentle. Because of his youthful aura, he didn’t seem particularly aggressive.

This made it easy to overlook the physical build and strength of a grown man.

“Don’t go down there. I’m worried you’ll be in danger,” Qiu Rongrong said, not wanting him to take any risks.

Through his pajamas, she could feel the powerful thrum of his pulse.

It was reassuring.

Zhou Jingxing pulled a knife from under the pillow and sat down beside Qiu Rongrong with a smile. “I won’t go, I won’t go. I’ll stay right here and watch over you.”

Qiu Rongrong’s pupils dilated and then constricted. Her neck felt stiff, her entire attention captured by the black dagger.

Zhou Jingxing unsheathed the blade and pressed the cool metal gently against Qiu Rongrong’s cheek. He whispered in her ear, “If anyone bullies you, your brother will use this knife to stab them to death, okay?”

He murmured softly, like a tender lover whispering vows of loyalty.

Yet the coldness of the blade served as a sharp reminder of the danger he posed.

The dagger slid down slowly, pressing flat against her chin to tilt her head up.

Their eyes met.

Zhou Jingxing’s gaze was full of deep affection, but Qiu Rongrong felt a flicker of unease.

She heard herself struggle to force out a dry “Okay.”

“I scared you.”

Once he put the knife away, he reverted to his harmless, innocent self.

It was as if the previous moment had merely been a bit of flirtation.

He pinched Qiu Rongrong’s cheek. “Rest here tonight. You take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

With that, Zhou Jingxing took two new quilts from the closet and spread them out on the floor.

He was perfectly well-behaved, never crossing the line.

Qiu Rongrong lay in his bed, unable to sleep all night.

In the darkness, she couldn’t help but reach out to touch the dagger under the pillow.

He had placed it there for her. The heart that had leapt into her throat a moment ago quickly settled back down.

He had personally tucked this knife away for her.

He wanted her to sleep with the blade so she wouldn’t feel afraid.

When she woke up the next morning, Qiu Rongrong had dark circles under her eyes.

Zhou Jingxing was in the kitchen frying eggs.

“Dad has already agreed to let Zhou Huaiyuan have the liposuction. Someone from the hospital will come today to pick him up.”

“Is his body fit for liposuction?”

“The hospital will need to evaluate that.” Zhou Jingxing’s attitude toward Zhou Huaiyuan was cold. Despite living under the same roof, Qiu Rongrong had never once seen Zhou Jingxing enter Zhou Huaiyuan’s room.

The two biological brothers were like total strangers.

“I have plans with a classmate today. I won’t be back until tonight.” Qiu Rongrong poked at the egg on her plate with a fork. Once the thin skin over the yolk broke, the runny center flowed out.

Last time in the infirmary, Tan Song had simply blurted out his thoughts.

Today was Saturday, so there were no classes, and Tan Song didn’t have to work his part-time job. He had invited Qiu Rongrong to his house. He had some evidence that might prove his father wasn’t the mastermind, and he wanted to show her.

Zhou Jingxing’s hand, which was using a knife to cut his egg, paused. “Do you need the car?”

“I haven’t gotten my driver’s license yet.” Qiu Rongrong didn’t have any extra money, and she felt awkward asking Uncle Zhou for more.

She planned to work during the winter and summer breaks to save up some money before going to driving school.

“Then I’ll drop you off.”

“No need. My classmate said he’d pick me up.”

“A female classmate?” His voice was neutral, as if they were just making small talk.

“A male classmate.” Seeing the smile fade from Zhou Jingxing’s lips, Qiu Rongrong leaned slightly toward him. “Are you jealous?”

In the next second, Zhou Jingxing pressed down hard with the knife. The porcelain plate snapped in two, and the egg yolk spilled across the table.