Chapter 37: Jian Li, Hold Me.

The subway arrived at the station. On a weekend morning, there were plenty of empty seats. Jian Li placed her backpack on her lap and opened her water bottle to take a sip.

She drank slowly, and her lips, now moistened by the water, looked like a ripe peach.

Zhou Shubei rolled his Adam’s apple and shifted his gaze away. After a few seconds, a fair and slender hand reached over, offering an earbud.

“Do you want to listen to music?” Jian Li asked.

“Mm,” he nodded.

He took the left earbud, and their fingers accidentally brushed against each other. It felt as light as a feather, and Jian Li’s heart skipped a beat. When she pulled her hand back, she hesitated, wondering if reaching for it again would seem too deliberate.

“Do you have any songs you want to listen to?” Jian Li asked.

“Just play your playlist,” Zhou Shubei replied.

Jian Li didn’t usually listen to music and, naturally, didn’t have a playlist, so she found a popular one from the recommendations.

The subway passed through a dark tunnel, and their reflections were faintly visible in the opposite glass. Zhou Shubei sat with his long legs firmly planted on the ground, his umbrella hooked around his wrist, leaning back against the seat, eyes closed as he rested.

Only then did Jian Li dare to glance at his face. His long, thick eyelashes cast a slight shadow on his eyelids, and his brows carried a trace of exhaustion.

It was so cold today, and she wondered what time he must have woken up. After having breakfast, he had been waiting for her.

The subway jolted slightly as it crossed a track switch, and the umbrella hanging from his wrist looked like it was about to fall.

Jian Li leaned forward to grab it, just as a voice came from above her head.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhou Shubei had already opened his eyes, and Jian Li’s gaze collided with his. “I thought the umbrella was going to fall.”

Zhou Shubei made a sound of acknowledgment and turned his wrist, adjusting the umbrella so that it remained securely in place. “It won’t fall.”

Jian Li nodded. “That’s good.”

Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, he suddenly grabbed it. His hand was large, easily engulfing hers, and the warmth of his skin seemed to seep into her veins.

Zhou Shubei tightened his grip as if measuring the size of her hand, then casually slipped both of their hands into his left coat pocket. He leaned back again, eyes closed, his thumb unconsciously pressing against the back of her hand in a tender gesture.

Jian Li’s heart raced, and she froze, not daring to move, afraid that this fleeting warmth would vanish. Her palm began to sweat, as if she had just run 800 meters on a hot summer day.

Was this holding hands?

It probably was… right?

As the train approached the station where they would get off, Jian Li tugged at Zhou Shubei’s sleeve with her left hand. “We’re about to get off.”

Zhou Shubei responded, and after the train stopped, he stood up.

Walking like this felt awkward. Zhou Shubei released her hand, and they walked side by side at a leisurely pace.

A couple of people hurried past them, and Jian Li was pushed a couple of steps behind. Taking this opportunity, she wiped her sweaty palms and looked up to see Zhou Shubei raising an eyebrow, smiling at her.

Jian Li tightened her grip on the tissue in her hand, pretending to be calm. “Let’s go.”

“Jian Li,” he called her.

Jian Li turned around. “Hmm?”

His hand was back around hers, not the gentle hold from earlier, but a real hand-hold, palm to palm, with his thumb pressed against the back of her hand.

Zhou Shubei smiled lazily. “There are a lot of people. I have to make sure I hold onto my girlfriend.”

The sweat she had just wiped away returned in full force, and Jian Li looked at their hands tightly intertwined, feeling as if there was a connection between them, a bridge between his world and hers.

Jian Li smiled and pressed her thumb down as well, pressing against his hand.

They walked out of the subway station hand in hand, into the neighborhood, and knocked on the door of Sheng Ying’s house.

When Sheng Ying opened the door and saw them together, she hadn’t even had a chance to ask anything before noticing their tightly clasped hands. It was as if she had discovered a new world. She quickly turned around and called Liu Xinlan.

“Mom, Shubei Ge and Jian Li Jie are in a relationship!”

In front of the elders, Jian Li felt a little embarrassed. She wanted to pull her hand out of Zhou Shubei’s, but she didn’t tease him too much and let go before Liu Xinlan came downstairs.

Liu Xinlan pulled Sheng Ying downstairs, and Sheng Ying seemed even more excited than they were. She spun around and said, “They’re a perfect match.”

Jian Li smiled and briefly greeted Liu Xinlan, then went upstairs with Sheng Ying.

Watching them disappear around the corner, Liu Xinlan gestured for Zhou Shubei to sit down. She poured tea for the two of them, took a sip herself, and then smiled as she asked, “Have you figured things out?”

Zhou Shubei took an orange from the fruit plate and peeled it. “Maybe.”

“Jian Li is a good girl. If your mother knew, she’d be happy too,” Liu Xinlan said.

His mother was named Shi Man.

What a beautiful name, but she passed away in her prime.

“Has the Zhou family found out?” Liu Xinlan asked.

Zhou Shubei replied, “No.”

Liu Xinlan sighed. “The Zhou family won’t approve. You should know your value to them.”

The orange peel opened in his palm like flower petals, and Zhou Shubei separated the flesh from the peel, tossing the peel into the trash. “The one who wins… won’t necessarily be anyone.”

His voice was calm, devoid of any emotion, but there was a trace of confidence and resolve in his eyes.

Liu Xinlan silently shook her head, knowing she couldn’t persuade him.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the study…

Sheng Ying asked Jian Li many questions about how they got together, who confessed first, and how she realized he liked her. Jian Li answered some of her curiosity and took out the previous semester’s test papers to explain the mistakes.

“From now on, on March 5th, Shubei Ge won’t be alone,” Sheng Ying said.

Jian Li asked, “What’s March 5th?”

“It’s the anniversary of Shubei Ge’s grandmother’s passing. Every year on that day, he spends the whole day at the cemetery, no matter the weather,” Sheng Ying sighed like an old soul. “Jian Li Jie, he’s actually very pitiful.”

Jian Li recalled what Song Lang had said outside the student affairs office before. That day was probably the anniversary of Zhou Shubei’s mother’s passing, which is why he had taken a day off and wouldn’t return to school.

Jian Li marked the two dates on her calendar.

March 5th fell on a Wednesday.

She asked Zhou Shubei for his class schedule, and he quickly sent it over with a voice message.

“Reciprocity. Little Jian Li, aren’t you going to send me yours?”

Jian Li sent him her schedule, then opened his.

His schedule for junior year was relatively light, with only two classes, likely because he had already taken the day off.

During her free time these past few days, Jian Li had been thinking about what she could do. He needed his space, and she wouldn’t disturb him, but she also wanted to do something, anything, to make him happy.

After her Wednesday classes, Jian Li sent Zhou Shubei a message she had already prepared: “I left a book at your house over the weekend. I need it for tomorrow’s early class. Are you home? I’ll come pick it up.”

Zhou Shubei replied half an hour later: “The password is my birthday. Take a taxi here and send me the license plate number. I’ll have the driver take you back.”

Jian Li, typing as she walked out: “No need. Ying Ying is with me.”

“Mm.”

Jian Li took a taxi to Longhu No. 1, pushed open the door, and saw Cotton Candy lying on the stone table in the pavilion, looking up at her with its tail swishing. It meowed, signaling her to hurry up and pet it.

Jian Li bent down to pick up the cat. “I’m about to get busy, don’t run around, okay?”

“Meow~”

Cotton Candy seemed to understand, wagging its tail before jumping off her arms and climbing up to the top of the artificial mountain, inspecting its territory.

The groceries were delivered in sequence, and Jian Li tied her hair back in a bun and rolled up her sleeves.

Zhou Shubei’s kitchen was spacious, with an L-shaped countertop. It was likely designed for easy cleaning, not like the attic where the cabinets were made of golden nanmu wood. Instead, the countertops were marble, reflecting clear images of people. All the kitchenware was complete, but everything looked brand new, as if it had never been used.

Jian Li glanced at the time and began to work.

Late at night, the sounds of passing cars outside were the only noise. A few times, Cotton Candy curiously ran over, sniffing at the vegetable leaves and taking a bite, only to spit it out in disdain.

The last dish was done, and Jian Li, feeling sore in her back, was about to bring the food outside when suddenly the sound of the door opening interrupted her.

Jian Li instinctively tried to turn and hide, but it was already too late.

Zhou Shubei stood frozen in the doorway. “Why are you still here?”

His voice was a little hoarse, like he hadn’t had water for a while. His hand dropped as he pushed the door open.

Jian Li explained hurriedly, “Today is the anniversary of your grandmother’s passing. I wanted to do something for you, but I didn’t know what to prepare. Since you used to live in Xiyuan, I thought I’d make some Xiyuan dishes for you… to try.”

Zhou Shubei’s expression was weary, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Who told you?”

“I…”

Jian Li stopped after one word, standing at the door, separated by the artificial mountain and pond. His eyes held no joy or appreciation, only a hint of scrutiny and questioning.

Her efforts hadn’t made him happy.

The dishes were still hot, and Jian Li winced as her fingers were burned. She lowered her gaze, not wanting to cause trouble for Sheng Ying, and mumbled, “I guessed.”

Zhou Shubei gave a cold laugh. “Did you?”

Jian Li was barely able to keep the bowl steady. The rising steam made her eyes sting. Her eyes watered as she placed the bowl on the stone bench outside. “I’m sorry.”

After saying that, she turned to leave, but as she passed him, he grabbed her wrist.

Zhou Shubei’s usual laziness had faded, and he asked again, “Tell me the truth. How did you know? Did you want my password just for this? My schedule? What about the book? Did you find it?”

Jian Li winced as he tightened his grip. His questions made her seem like she had ulterior motives.

Indeed, they had only confirmed their relationship a few days ago, and now she was here asking for his password, going to his house, and lying to him.

“No book. I lied to you.”

Zhou Shubei’s grip tightened even more, his fingers brushing against her own. Seeing her frown and try to pull away, he realized something and looked down.

Her once delicate fingers were covered in band-aids, the skin wrinkled from prolonged exposure to water. They were red, still warm. Zhou Shubei’s gaze faltered as he recalled the dish she had carried in earlier, a shrimp soup his grandmother used to make for him.

His gaze dropped further, noticing her sleeves rolled up, her forehead covered in sweat, her clothes dusted with flour, and…

The table in the living room was covered with dishes.

His anger subsided, and he looked at the woman with her head lowered. He didn’t want to be here anymore; he needed to go back to a place of safety. Zhou Shubei’s heart trembled, and he pulled her into an embrace, his hands locking around her waist and the back of her head.

Jian Li stood there, her hands hanging limply, unsure of what to do, unable to understand why he had been so harsh moments ago and now was holding her.

Zhou Shubei rested his chin on her head, pulling her hands to his waist. His voice was husky and low, “Jian Li, hold me.”