Ever since accidentally encountering Zhou Jingze outside campus last time, Xu Sui had reduced her trips off-campus to avoid running into him again.

But some people—the more you try to escape them, the more you seem to see them.

In mid-April, the school had a collaboration project with Jingbei Medical University’s First Affiliated Hospital—a volunteer activity recruiting freshman medical social workers to provide services and assistance to special populations in the hospital. The duration was one week.

Xu Sui looked at the registration requirements and signed up. On the first day, she almost arrived late. She quickly got dressed, grabbed a piece of bread, and rushed out.

She took the bus to the city hospital, and as soon as she got off, she saw a crowd of people in the distance. She ran over anxiously, breathing heavily: “Sorry, I’m late.”

In the center of the crowd stood a male student wearing a white shirt, his back straight, facing away from Xu Sui while holding a clipboard taking attendance. The silhouette looked somewhat familiar to Xu Sui. When he turned around, she was dumbstruck.

Shi Yuejie held a blue clipboard and pretended to tap her with it gently, his movement tender as he smiled: “Hurry up and get in line.”

When they finished counting and reporting numbers, Shi Yuejie stood at the front. The morning sunlight was somewhat glaring, making him squint as he looked at the team before him. Xu Sui stood at the very edge, wearing an apple-green hoodie and light blue jeans, her black hair tied back somewhat messily. She kept fanning herself with her hand, her pale cheeks puffed out like a little goldfish.

After taking attendance, Shi Yuejie distributed group assignment lists. They would each take transportation to their designated service locations—some at the hospital, some at nursing homes. Xu Sui was assigned to an orphanage to provide psychological counseling to sick orphaned children.

Xu Sui spent the day at the orphanage and learned about a child with congenital heart disease who, due to her upbringing environment, suffered from depression. The child was drawing on the ground—a castle that was completely enclosed, without a single door.

“Why doesn’t this castle have a door?” Xu Sui gently touched the child’s head and asked tenderly.

The little girl replied: “Because the bad people closed the door.”

Xu Sui took a twig and drew a door on the castle, her lips curving upward: “Look, now there’s a door.”

“When bad people close the door, we create our own door.” After saying this, Xu Sui was stunned, as if remembering something, and fell into deep thought.

After the day’s medical social work service ended, Xu Sui took the bus back to school. Unexpectedly, as soon as she got off, she ran into Shi Yuejie, who had also finished his volunteer service.

The two smiled at each other.

Shi Yuejie walked over and handed her a carton of milk. Xu Sui accepted it, inserted the straw into the silver foil opening, and said: “Thank you.”

The two walked side by side along the campus pathway. Shi Yuejie asked with concern: “How do you feel? Were you tired today?”

“It felt pretty good,” Xu Sui nodded, then thought for a moment, “A little tired.”

“That’s good.”

Shi Yuejie then shared his day’s service experiences with her, glossing over the difficult parts and telling several interesting stories. Xu Sui listened attentively, occasionally showing a smile.

Xu Sui bit on the milk straw, her clear eyes showing curiosity: “I didn’t expect you to be the leader of this activity. Aren’t you busy as a junior? Or does higher position mean more responsibilities?”

“I’m busy. I originally wanted to decline,” Shi Yuejie looked at her, his tone very gentle, “but when I saw your name on the list, I decided to come.”

Xu Sui froze. She was drinking milk and got startled, choking and coughing violently until tears filled her eyes.

Shi Yuejie instinctively raised his hand, stopping when his palm was only two centimeters from her, then gently patted her back and smiled warmly: “Did I scare you? Don’t feel burdened by this.”

Zhou Jingze had just finished training and arrived at their school when he witnessed this scene. It was April, and the school’s magnolia flowers were blooming in large, competing clusters. The two stood under the trees in an intimate posture, and the wind carrying moisture brought the sweet fragrance to him.

He narrowed his eyes and let out a cold laugh.

They looked quite compatible indeed.

Xu Sui finally caught her breath and felt a burning gaze fall upon her. Looking up, she saw Zhou Jingze in the distance.

He wore gray-green training uniform, smoking with one hand, his jawline sharp and clean, looking directly at her with emotions churning in his eyes.

Direct, indifferent, filled with desire.

Xu Sui’s heart trembled. In their brief eye contact, she hurriedly looked away, not daring to look at him again.

Obviously, Shi Yuejie also saw Zhou Jingze. His confession to Xu Sui today was no coincidence. Ever since that incident when Xu Sui was falsely accused of cheating and he helped investigate to clear her name.

That incident seemed like he had won, but somehow Zhou Jingze had managed to make that girl directly apologize to Xu Sui.

Shi Yuejie knew then that he had lost—he couldn’t compare to Zhou Jingze.

Zhou Jingze was that type of person. Rather than pursuing justice through proper channels, he preferred his own methods of handling things, telling Shi Yuejie: I’m just better than you.

But during this period, Shi Yuejie noticed Zhou Jingze wasn’t around Xu Sui, and she wasn’t going out much either. He decided to seize this opportunity to be honest about his feelings. After all, liking someone wasn’t shameful or contemptible.

Shi Yuejie actively walked up to Zhou Jingze, his tone gentle: “Jingze, what do you need from me?”

Zhou Jingze removed the cigarette from his mouth and, upon hearing this, let out a scornful laugh, his voice icy: “Who said I came looking for you?”

The two looked directly at each other, with an underlying tension flowing between them like drawn swords. Xu Sui stood behind Shi Yuejie, forcing herself not to look at that person, because seeing him made her sad.

Just as the atmosphere between them grew tense and couldn’t be resolved, Xu Sui gripped the corner of her milk carton and hurried past Zhou Jingze with her head down. The evening breeze stirred her hair, and a strand inadvertently brushed Zhou Jingze’s nose—a faint camellia fragrance that passed by in an instant.

Zhou Jingze turned his head, staring at the back that ran away faster than a rabbit, narrowing his eyes: “Xu Sui.”

Xu Sui’s steps paused, then she lifted her feet and left without looking back.

Only then did Zhou Jingze realize this girl was angry, and more seriously than he had imagined.

This semester Xu Sui still tutored little Sheng Yanjia, but she had changed the time to Fridays to avoid encountering Zhou Jingze.

On Friday afternoon, Sheng Yanjia mysteriously sent her a text asking her to come early. Xu Sui didn’t suspect anything and came to the Sheng house, gave Sheng Yanjia two math lessons, assigned two homework problems, and then patted the little rascal’s head as usual:

“Teacher is leaving.”

“Wait, Teacher Xiao Xu, have dinner at my house tonight,” Sheng Yanjia grabbed her.

“I won’t eat dinner—Teacher is on a diet lately,” Xu Sui lied to put off Sheng Yanjia.

The little curly-haired boy immediately slumped over the table, looking dejected: “But today is my birthday.”

“Your birthday—why didn’t you tell me in advance? I haven’t prepared anything,” Xu Sui was greatly surprised.

At this moment, Mother Sheng entered. She had specially dressed up today, wearing a water-smoke button qipao with two emerald earrings that made her skin look like congealed fat—elegant and alluring.

Mother Sheng’s enthusiasm was written all over her face as she said: “Teacher Xiao Xu, please stay for dinner. You don’t need to prepare anything. If you don’t stay, this little guy will blame me.”

Unable to refuse such hospitality, Xu Sui looked at the little rascal’s pleading big eyes and had to compromise, nodding. Sheng Yanjia immediately jumped up from his stool and invited her:

“Teacher, come downstairs to play! I invited many classmates, plus my brother and Brother Jingze are here too.”

Hearing that particular name, Xu Sui’s brow jumped. She said: “You go downstairs and play first. Teacher wants to rest a bit. Can I play your game console?”

“Of course! Teacher Xiao Xu, I’m going downstairs first,” Sheng Yanjia said.

After they went downstairs, Xu Sui sat on the soft carpet in the room. Before long, she heard noisy sounds from downstairs—talking and laughter.

Among them was a voice with almost metallic quality mixed with a casual tone that she immediately recognized.

Xu Sui collected herself and gripped the Switch controller, focusing her attention on the game. She hadn’t played games in a long time, and when encountering this type of competitive survival game, her bones secretly thrilled with excitement. She progressed through levels and completed missions.

When Hu Qianxi pushed the door open, this was the scene she saw: Xu Sui with her sweet, soft face, not blinking as she killed soldiers, her porcelain-white face showing complete composure.

“Damn, that operation is so brutal. Baby, I suspect everyone has been fooled by your appearance into thinking you’re well-behaved,” Hu Qianxi patted her head. “Baby, come downstairs for dinner.”

Xu Sui sat cross-legged on the floor, her dark eyes fixed on the big screen, completely focused, her voice muffled: “You go first. I’ll finish this round.”

Having not played for too long, she was getting somewhat addicted.

After Hu Qianxi went downstairs, Xu Sui’s game lasted quite a while. When she finally took the last drop of the enemy’s blood, she casually looked up at the time and was startled—she hurried downstairs.

When Xu Sui came downstairs, she found people were already seated, and there was only one seat left. Coincidentally, it was the empty seat next to that person.

That person had his back to her, wearing a black T-shirt, casually leaning back in his chair while unwrapping candy on the table, the vertebrae at the back of his neck appearing both aloof and alluring.

Sheng Yanjia was surrounded by several children and laughing happily. When he saw Xu Sui, as if afraid she couldn’t hear, he raised his voice: “Teacher Xiao Xu, come over quickly!”

Xu Sui had no choice but to bite the bullet and walk over, sitting next to Zhou Jingze. From the moment she sat down, Xu Sui clapped and smiled along with everyone, trying hard not to look at the person beside her.

Zhou Jingze looked completely relaxed, sitting there casually, laughing unrestrained-ly, even having the interest to tease Sheng Yanjia, almost making him cry.

The two were sitting close together, occasionally their elbows would accidentally touch. His wrist bones were clearly defined and somewhat hard to the touch—just for an instant, but the feeling was very obvious.

A tremor went through Xu Sui’s heart, and she hurriedly pulled back.

Sitting next to him, his mint scent drifted over bit by bit, seeping into her space, inescapable, so she could only focus on the food in front of her.

People from Jingbei preferred sweeter food, while Xu Sui liked spicy food. After going around the table once, only one dish of mapo tofu suited her taste. The children present were even pickier eaters, playing with the dishes on the rotating glass top like a turntable. Often when she wanted to get some dish, it would whoosh past her.

Just as the dish was about to turn to Xu Sui, the next second the turntable moved, and she sighed inwardly, retracting her chopsticks.

Zhou Jingze sat beside her, casually chatting with others, but as if he had eyes in the back of his head, his right arm arched up in a smooth, attractive line, his palm directly pressing on the glass surface. No matter how hard Sheng Yanjia pulled, he couldn’t move it.

Sheng Yanjia always felt like Zhou Jingze liked to oppose him and felt quite wronged: “Bro, what are you doing?”

Zhou Jingze lifted his thin eyelids and glanced at him, slowly asking: “Can’t I get some food?”

Sheng Yanjia was afraid of how his brother looked at people—his eyes calm, yet he felt like he’d get beaten up afterward. The little curly-hair decisively let go and fawningly said: “No problem, you go ahead. I’ll never dare turn it randomly again.”

Zhou Jingze casually picked up a dish next to the mapo tofu, and Xu Sui successfully got the dish she wanted to eat.

Halfway through the meal, Xu Sui was eating a bit too fast and was choking, just about to look for water when a slender, pale hand holding a glass of water appeared—the light blue veins on the back of the hand obvious, the black mole in the tiger’s mouth area clearly visible—a glass of water appeared beside her.

So what he did just now was for her?

Xu Sui didn’t dare look up into his eyes directly and said softly: “Thank you.”

An ambiguous, lazy chuckle came from above her head, the ending tone drawn out and low. Xu Sui felt her neck itching and getting warm.

After dinner came the cake-cutting and birthday wish segment. Under everyone’s lively blessings, Sheng Yanjia successfully blew out 11 candles.

Zhou Jingze was generous with his gifts, directly giving him a set of adult-height limited edition Marvel character figures. Everyone presented their gifts, and Xu Sui felt somewhat embarrassed: “Next time Teacher will make it up to you. Happy birthday, little Sheng Yanjia.”

“You can’t forget, okay?”

“Definitely.”

…

When Sheng Yanjia’s birthday celebration was almost over, Xu Sui stole a glance at the time—almost 10 o’clock. Hu Qianxi also came over: “Should we head back? By the time we get back, it’ll almost be dorm curfew.”

“Mm, wait for me a moment. My things are still upstairs,” Xu Sui nodded.

After speaking, Xu Sui hurried upstairs to Sheng Yanjia’s room to pack her things, stuffing pens, mirror, and other items into her bag.

While packing and spacing out, Xu Sui turned around holding her books and unexpectedly crashed into a hard chest. Looking up, she met a pair of bottomlessly dark eyes.

The eyes were domineering and filled with inexplicable emotions, like a wild beast that could devour her at any moment.

Xu Sui’s heart tightened, and she clutched her books, moving sideways to walk to the other side. Zhou Jingze held a red and white jacket, wearing a dandy smile, and also lazily stepped along, blocking her path, not letting Xu Sui leave.

Xu Sui pressed her lips together. When she went left, Zhou Jingze followed left; when she went right, he followed right.

His expression remained casual throughout, still wearing a smile, like he was teasing a cat.

Zhou Jingze leaned sideways, blocking Xu Sui’s path, his eyes locked on her as he spoke:

“Let’s talk.”

Xu Sui didn’t want to reopen that incident and face Zhou Jingze’s coldness and impatience toward her again. She just wanted to escape: “I have things to do.”

After speaking, taking advantage of Zhou Jingze’s inattention, she tried to walk to the side. Zhou Jingze reacted quickly, taking two steps backward and directly blocking the doorway.

As Xu Sui tried to leave, Zhou Jingze reached out and grabbed her wrist, tightening his grip, looking down at her with dissatisfied narrowed eyes:

“Where are you hiding?”

His hand gripped her wrist, warm skin touching hers. Xu Sui struggled to break free, but he held tight, unconsciously using some force.

Zhou Jingze leaned against the door frame, slowly moving closer, lowering his head and neck. They were very close, his tone confident, his voice revealing dominance and forcefulness:

“If I don’t want you to leave, can you leave?”

Xu Sui turned her face away without speaking. Zhou Jingze thought she was compromising and was about to have a proper conversation with her when a crystal-clear, scalding tear fell on the back of his hand.

It inexplicably burned his heart.

Zhou Jingze looked down and discovered he had gripped too hard—red marks had appeared on Xu Sui’s pale wrist. Zhou Jingze immediately let go and, seeing her reddened eyes, felt something like panic rising in his heart.

After gaining her freedom, Xu Sui hurried forward holding her books. Zhou Jingze suddenly spoke, his voice low and serious:

“I’m sorry.”