By now her whole body ached. Fang Zhuo methodically assessed her injuries.

The palm of her left hand had some scrapes — not serious. Her forehead seemed to have taken a knock.

She was about to lift her hand to touch it when Yan Lie suddenly came rushing over. He grabbed her wrist and held it firmly to stop her from touching anything. His expression was dark, and he kept hovering close to her face, demanding urgently, “Are you alright? Are you dizzy? Do you feel sick?”

The noise around her buzzed — too many people talking at once, making her head spin.

Fang Zhuo blew gently on her stinging palm and said, “I’m fine. Did you wait for the green light to cross?”

Yan Lie didn’t answer her question at all. He said on his own, “I’m taking you to the hospital right now.”

Fang Zhuo thought he was making a huge fuss. The moment she heard the word “hospital,” she said firmly, “What hospital? Even buying a bandage would be a waste.”

She’d had scrapes and tumbles all the time as a child — she thought this was completely unnecessary.

Yan Lie didn’t look at her eyes, as though he’d blocked out her signal entirely. His gaze bore straight down onto her forehead, and he said, “Your head is bleeding.”

Fang Zhuo tried to reach up to feel it, but Yan Lie was holding her hand down firmly. She gave up.

She thought it probably wasn’t serious — she couldn’t feel blood flowing, so it was most likely just a surface graze. She was about to say as much when her eyelid suddenly felt heavy, and something fell onto her lashes.

Someone nearby handed over a paper napkin. Yan Lie carefully wiped away the blood without touching the wound itself. But the bleeding didn’t seem to want to stop.

Fang Zhuo kept one eye open. Her field of vision was filled with nothing but Yan Lie’s face, close enough to count the details.

When he wasn’t smiling, he looked very cold. The downward cast of his brows and the tight press of his lips made it seem as though he was angry at someone.

But why would he be angry at her?

Yan Lie put away the napkin and pulled her by the arm. “I’m calling a car.”

Fang Zhuo resisted. “No need. It’ll be fine in a while — it’s not like I’ve never fallen before.”

Yan Lie’s expression was now well beyond “grim” as a description. He said nothing, just walked stubbornly toward the roadside. Fang Zhuo followed two steps, then conceded, “Fine, then let’s at least take the bus.”

Yan Lie turned around, and it seemed as though his earlier patience and gentleness had been temporarily discontinued. His voice involuntarily rose. “You want to take the bus looking like you walked straight out of a horror film?!”

Fang Zhuo was silent for two seconds, then corrected him, “Domestic films can’t do horror anymore.”

Yan Lie took a deep breath, as though trying desperately to restrain himself — but with limited success.

It was ultimately a passerby who told them there was a proper hospital nearby, which eased the tension somewhat.

Once they were seated in the bright examination room being bandaged, Yan Lie’s symptoms remained rather pronounced.

Fang Zhuo watched the doctor, Yan Lie watched her, and the doctor focused intently on cleaning the wound. None of them spoke.

The room was too quiet, and Fang Zhuo’s thoughts drifted outward like the crowd beyond the window.

Before long, she heard Yan Lie ask the doctor, “Doctor, can you check again — her head really is fine, isn’t it? It’s just that she seems… not very bright?”

Fang Zhuo looked up. “I’m doing math.”

Yan Lie: “Math about what?”

Fang Zhuo furrowed her brows and said, with evident disappointment, “I’ve lost money.”

Those two words somehow drained away whatever remained of Yan Lie’s irritation. He pulled over a nearby stool, sat down across from her, and crossed his arms, trying to figure out what was actually going on inside her head.

Fang Zhuo knew he must be thinking she was petty and obsessed with money.

“If you don’t pay attention to it, it’ll heal quickly,” Fang Zhuo shared her hard-won wisdom. “That’s the natural healing method. Everyone was like this as a child.”

Yan Lie: “Paying attention to it makes it heal slower?”

Fang Zhuo: “What I mean is, you don’t need to pay attention to it for it to heal.”

Yan Lie said, exasperated, “Doctor, you tell her.”

The doctor didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed the gauze firmly against the edge of the wound, making Fang Zhuo hiss sharply in pain — and Yan Lie instinctively winced along with her.

After finishing up, the doctor made a quip. “No wonder the back of your head has a few bumps already.”

Fang Zhuo: “…?”

Watching him begin to put away his instruments, Fang Zhuo asked, “Does the gauze cost extra?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow and teased, “What? You want to take a gift bag home?”

Fang Zhuo said, “I was hoping you could make the bandage look more serious — that way I won’t have to do PE or morning exercises, and I can use that extra time in the classroom to study.”

The doctor was moved by her diligent pursuit of knowledge. He said, “It costs extra.”

Fang Zhuo gave up at once. “Never mind then.”

“Young people these days, always thinking up the strangest things.” The doctor chuckled. “I’ll write you a certificate. Go pay at the cashier first. Don’t get the wound wet. Rest well, and when you’re back at school, have the medical office change the dressing.”

Fang Zhuo: “Alright.”

Yan Lie had Fang Zhuo wait in the rest area outside. Watching her face, which had never had much color to begin with, become even more pallid, he couldn’t help saying, “How did you even manage to fall? I saw you — how can anyone be so careless? Falling flat on flat ground.”

He might as well not have brought it up at all, but since he had, Fang Zhuo didn’t hold back. “It’s entirely your fault.”

“Fang Zhuo, are you starting to be unreasonable?” Yan Lie said, breaking into a smile. “Oh — if you fell because you were looking at me, then yes, it really is my fault. Why were you staring at me like that? Couldn’t you have just called out to me?”

Fang Zhuo hadn’t expected him to be so shameless. She couldn’t find a sufficiently strong rebuttal, so she said instead, “It’s the public infrastructure’s fault.”

Her head was split open just like that badly made weathered paving tile.

Yan Lie found this rather funny. At that moment his phone rang. He pulled it out and saw it was Ye Yuncheng.

He turned the screen toward Fang Zhuo. Fang Zhuo said, “Don’t tell him.”

So Yan Lie took the phone over to the window and answered.

Ye Yuncheng said from the other end, worriedly, “Lielie, do you know where Fang Zhuo is? Why isn’t she back yet? If she can’t sell the stuff, don’t bother selling it anymore — if she doesn’t come back soon, it’ll be dark.”

“She ran into her homeroom teacher in the city, and we all talked for a while. The teacher saw that she was on her own and that it’s almost time for the monthly exam, so she’s having her join a study session with some other students,” Yan Lie said. “So she’s not coming back today — she’ll return next week depending on how things go.”

Ye Yuncheng felt something wasn’t quite right, so he didn’t immediately respond. But he didn’t call it out either. He simply said, “I see. But her school uniform is still here at home.”

Yan Lie said, “I’ll go over tomorrow and bring it for her.”

Ye Yuncheng: “Alright then.”

Yan Lie returned with his phone. Fang Zhuo was studying her medical record booklet, attempting to decipher the doctor’s cursive handwriting.

He took the booklet from her. Once Fang Zhuo looked up, he said with a straight face, “I told him you’re coming to my place and won’t be going back today.”

Fang Zhuo stared at him blankly. “Why would I go to your place? How could you use an excuse like that? He’ll definitely figure it out!”

Yan Lie held her gaze for a moment, then turned her own words back on her. “Why are you still so innocent and adorable at eighteen years old?”

Fang Zhuo: “…”

Old debts repaid, Yan Lie was satisfied. Without giving Fang Zhuo a chance to strike back, he cheerfully went off to the payment counter with the invoice in hand.

After queuing and paying, Yan Lie came out with the receipt and found Fang Zhuo right behind him, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling lights.

He guided her to the pharmacy window and collected two tubes of ointment.

The doctor had apparently noticed that Fang Zhuo’s financial situation wasn’t great. He hadn’t charged for the wound cleaning, and the medication he’d prescribed was cheap — altogether it came to just over thirty yuan.

Yan Lie tucked everything into the small front pocket of Fang Zhuo’s backpack, then shouldered it himself.

When they walked out of the hospital, the sunlight hit immediately — bright enough to make Fang Zhuo squint.

She still remembered what she owed. She called out, “Come on, I’ll take you to eat something.”

Yan Lie never knew what to do with her logic and outlook.

“Didn’t you say you lost money?” he remarked, finding the whole thing novel. “You fell and got injured and still won’t take a taxi, yet you’re willing to treat me to food?”

Fang Zhuo said, “Those are two separate things. I already promised I’d treat you.”

Yan Lie was genuinely touched.

He had always assumed Fang Zhuo would never spend a single cent on him. He hadn’t expected that she would willingly run a financial deficit to treat him to a meal. Did this mean their friendship had achieved a qualitative leap forward?

It seemed he was worth quite a bit to her after all.

Fang Zhuo took him to a noodle shop. She ordered him a bowl of small wontons and a bowl of tossed noodles, and for herself, a sesame flatbread.

She didn’t have much of an appetite — her head still felt a little dizzy, and too much food would make her nauseous. She forced herself to eat the flatbread, then drank some of the complimentary soup the shop provided.

Yan Lie ate with great reverence, feeling as though with every bite, Fang Zhuo’s wallet deflated a little more. Not savoring it properly would be doing a disservice to her sacrifice.

After setting down his chopsticks, Yan Lie propped his chin in his hand and asked with a grin, “Am I the first person you’ve ever treated to a meal?”

The look Fang Zhuo gave him made her seem like she was the one who’d hit her head. She stood up and said, “Back to school.”

Since official classes didn’t resume until the next afternoon, the school grounds were still quiet. Only two or three people could be seen moving about at a glance, and even the main gate was only open a crack.

As the two of them entered, they walked straight into the homeroom teacher.

The teacher looked at the bandage on Fang Zhuo’s head and exclaimed in shock, “Fang Zhuo — what happened to your head?”

Fang Zhuo had no desire to revisit the story and gave Yan Lie a look, signaling him to explain on her behalf.

Yan Lie said, “Fang Zhuo went to the city today to sell some farm produce her uncle brought over — she wanted to make a little money.”

“Right.” The teacher’s expression turned serious. She reached out and touched Fang Zhuo’s forehead. In a low, stern voice: “Did the city management officers beat her up?”

Yan Lie said, “And then she fell while going to the restroom afterward.”

The teacher: “…??”

Yan Lie, suppressing a laugh: “Yep!”

Fang Zhuo glared at him, not at all pleased. “Can I go now? I want to go back and sleep.”

Yan Lie handed her bag back to her. The teacher was too worried about the state of Fang Zhuo’s face to let her go alone and personally walked her back.

The next morning — the first day back after the holiday. Fang Yiming, following his usual routine, walked into the office and found a female colleague distributing oranges.