Unlike the slow, stop-and-go county buses, Fang Jingcheng, who rented a car on the highway, arrived at the destination earlier than Xia Fu. It was still early, so instead of checking into the hotel, he decided to explore the surroundings first.

And then, while climbing over a wall, he got caught by the gym teacher. Calling out his girlfriend “Xia Fu’s” name, he was handed over to Li Aiying, who was giving free lessons to students over the summer. Luckily, his F University student ID saved some of his dignity, along with his phone photos and competition records, which matched up, allowing Fang Jingcheng to escape from the fate of being chased away by security.

“School isn’t a playground, so don’t try something as silly as climbing walls next time!”

Fang Jingcheng repeatedly agreed, afraid that any hesitation would make Li Aiying think he wasn’t sincere enough. He eagerly awaited the moment to see his girlfriend, who would go up on stage with the poise of the school’s top student to receive an award. But on the photo wall, there was only a pale, skinny, expressionless little girl.

The uniform at Fifth High was the traditional blue and white track jacket. Not exactly youthful or vibrant, but clean and simple. However, to save Xia Fu from needing new clothes as she grew, her parents had bought her the largest size available so she could wear it patched up all the way through graduation.

Standing on the flag-raising platform, Xia Fu’s jacket, faded from repeated washing, flapped in the morning breeze. She stretched out a thin arm, gripping the black-and-gray microphone, looking like a child playing dress-up in adult clothes or like a slim branch of a white poplar wrapped in a sack. A few stray hairs fell from her temples, brushing against her thin, straight-line pursed lips.

Her tense and uneasy look stood in stark contrast to the confident expression in a photo of her at the modeling competition. Compared to sweet couple moments or Fang Jingcheng’s unique charm, perhaps the tangible changes in a student’s life were the real reason Li Aiying was willing to show some leniency toward this silver-haired boy.

She gazed at those photos with unabashed pride:

“Our Xia Fu has always been a smart, outstanding child—independent, resilient, and very kind. Some of the students here today for tutoring have been helped by her and look up to her a lot. They all want to apply to F University, too.”

When she looked at the two-person photo, Li Aiying seemed to remember something, her expression turning a bit worried as she added, “But a kid who’s too mature is sometimes heart-wrenching… Later, when I saw her smiling like that, saying she had made friends at university, I was genuinely happy for her.”

“Don’t go showing up under someone’s window like this. Not everyone is as… understanding as I am. Back then, things were rough, and Xia Fu, as a girl, faced a lot of resistance to attending school.”

Independence, resilience, maturity—beautiful words, but sometimes a heavy burden on a little girl.

“Not understanding, strict, maybe stingy…” Though Li Aiying put it tactfully, her willingness to share so much with him, an outsider, meant the reality was probably even worse.

On the bulletin board, Xia Fu’s photos took up first place spots in mathematics, physics, and chemistry. Yet, more than her achievements, Fang Jingcheng focused on her thin face and timid smile.

“If not under her window, then how about a place nearby where Xia Fu likes to eat?”

He asked, feeling an urge to see her, scoop her up, and press her face to his, then take her out to eat all kinds of delicious food and buy her every piece of clothing she liked.

With these thoughts, Fang Jingcheng roamed the bustling avenue filled with date spots, sampling the things she liked and imagining what memories they might have shared if they’d met back in high school. When he found something particularly interesting, he would unconsciously buy an extra one for Xia Fu.

He really wanted to see her.

If he looked for her now, would she be happy?

He waited for Xia Fu’s reply while his thoughts spiraled; he waited until his snack went cold, the night grew quiet, and what he finally heard was her muffled sobs on the other end of the phone.

Fang Jingcheng stayed with her until she drifted off to sleep that night, but he slept poorly, dreaming of a small girl on the flag-raising stage, her shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs. He desperately wanted to approach her, but his feet were frozen in place.

“I could have the teacher call your parents, bring you back, okay?”

If you can’t make a decision, let me be the bad guy and take you away, okay?

The next morning, after a quick “good morning” with Xia Fu, Fang Jingcheng set his plan into motion. He tracked down an office secretary still on campus and used the desk phone to call Xia Fu’s parents.

“Paper? My kid’s been at school every day, exhausted and sick, resting at home now. Whatever it is can wait!”

The recording nearly made Fang Jingcheng choke on a bitter laugh.

Worried about her being unwell? If they were worried, they wouldn’t have made her drink until she was sick and then put her to work at the shop the next day.

With no hope from her parents, Fang Jingcheng looked for another angle, like a more agreeable sibling valued by her parents, and planned to lure Xia Fu out and take her away directly.

He bought two packs of the local favorite cigarettes, drove to the 4S shop, and with the excuse of “car care,” dropped Xia Changqing’s name and bribed an employee to let him into the backroom—where he happened to overhear Xia Changqing boasting about arranging a marriage between his sister and the boss.

No way. Xia Fu just told him she missed him last night; how could she suddenly want to marry the sleazy 4S shop owner? Who was this older man who suddenly showed up?

The shocking development rattled Fang Jingcheng, though he didn’t want to believe it. Yet, the string of clues—from “unexpected interest from an uncaring brother,” to “gaudy lipstick” and “bright dresses”—all hinted at a long-laid scheme.

And the oversized school uniform and the social obligations she couldn’t refuse suggested that maybe Xia Fu had never been in control.

Fang Jingcheng turned his key again, but Xia Fu didn’t answer her phone. The busy breakfast shop held no sign of her parents, and the listed address on the school contact form led to an empty old house.

By evening, his phone finally connected. It was Xia Fu’s mother, clearly angry, spewing country-accented insults that spilled out like a torrent: “You vile, shameless brat, coming to ruin a poor girl who barely got out of the countryside to attend university! Doing this so young, how will she ever face others again? If you have any decency, don’t ever contact her again!” No matter how many times he tried to explain, saying, “Auntie, it’s not like that. I want to marry Xia Fu and be with her after graduation,” she refused to listen.

Communication felt like pressing his head into mud, unable to break free, stifling him. After several failed attempts, Fang Jingcheng silently hung up.

When had he ever been treated like this?

Since they branded him as a rich playboy, he might as well act like one. Fang Jingcheng had both money and power; what could he possibly fail to get?

He investigated Chen Xinhong’s background and met with local thug Brother Li, only a step away from taking action. With a single word, he could tear down the couple’s defenses, smash the shell of pride his girlfriend clung to, and hold her vulnerable heart in his hands.

Your family is beyond help, and even though you avoid me as an outsider, only I can help you now. Brutal, maybe, but effective.

“Mr. Fang?”

Brother Li’s cautious voice brought him back to reality. Yet all he could hear was another voice calling him “Little Fang.” When Li Aiying saw him out of the school gate earlier, that farewell had stirred something inside him.

When they’d started dating, Xia Fu mentioned her high school teacher more than her own blood relatives.

“No need to come home with me. There’s nothing fun in the county,” she’d said. “If I had to recommend something, the camphor trees in the school bloom in summer with a wonderful fragrance. Outside the West Gate is a commercial street where I love getting snacks. When I did well on a mock exam, Teacher Li treated me to milk tea.”

As she spoke of warm memories, she had smiled, turned, and kissed the corner of his mouth, gently soothing him. “I’ll treat you to a cup later, too. Don’t feel sad. I’ll be back in just a few days.”

If Xia Fu didn’t want him to approach those past pains, would Teacher Li be a better choice?

She shouldn’t be confined by her so-called family. There were other people here, real family, who truly cared about her.

He wanted her to be happy, to be treated gently. He wanted her to love him. If he could bring her the family love she longed for, would she truly love him?

When he came to his senses, he was back at the gates of Fifth High, looking for the woman who had just arrived, he asked:

“Teacher Li, do you know Xia Fu’s new address?”

“What’s going on?”

“I ran into some things when I went looking for her…” He explained everything to the suspicious Li Aiying, and as he’d anticipated, she chose to stand by her beloved student.

“Hold on! I’ll gather some people and head over right away!”

And so, after everything that happened that morning, Xia Fu was finally back in his arms. Holding her close, Fang Jingcheng looked at her gaze directed at Li Aiying and knew he’d made the right bet.

Knowing Teacher Li had successfully left with her ID, Xia Fu’s tired face visibly relaxed.

She promised she wouldn’t leave him again.

But even though she said so, with all those obstacles in her past, Fang Jingcheng found it hard to feel completely secure. The moment she left his sight for more than half an hour, he couldn’t resist calling her name, asking what she was doing.

It had been at least fifteen minutes since the shower sounds stopped. What if she’d fainted in the bathroom?

Fang Jingcheng glanced at his phone again. He released the silk hair tie she’d left on the pillow, which he’d twisted into a little ball in his hand over and over. He bent his knuckles and knocked on the bathroom door, asking,

“Xia Fu? Are you okay?”

“Mm.”

She answered softly, her voice slightly muffled in the mist-filled bathroom.

Fang Jingcheng breathed a sigh of relief. “Is there anything you need help with?” He pressed his palm to the door, his hand sliding up and down, making a sound like an impatient cat stuck outside the bathroom.

There was silence for a moment, as though she’d made up her mind about something.

“Yes, I can’t reach the wound on my back. It hurts when I try to clean it.”

Fang Jingcheng’s method of tending to her wound was much gentler than hers. People do have a certain laziness, after all; once they experience a more comfortable life, it’s hard to go back to the painful days. Yet Xia Fu’s peculiar pride remained as strong as ever. After her mild request, she quickly added in a quiet voice,

“…Take off your clothes and come in. I don’t want to be the only one with a bare back.”

“Okay.”

After a rustling of clothes, the young man pushed the bathroom door open.

“Is this okay?”

Fang Jingcheng stepped one foot inside, keeping the other foot in the doorway, half his body hidden behind the door, his gaze sincere as he looked at his girlfriend. If Xia Fu shook her head, he wouldn’t mind finishing undressing before stepping inside.

Xia Fu felt her face heat up. She brushed away a droplet of water from her hair with her fingertips, turned her gaze away, pointed at the ointment on the side, and sighed,

“You stripped down a bit too much.”

It felt odd that only she was covered in wounds, yet him being in just shorts felt strange, too.

Once inside, Fang Jingcheng’s demeanor changed from his earlier insistence. Carefully, he traced the red, centipede-like marks crisscrossing her back without a word.

To make it easier to apply the medicine, Xia Fu had brought a chair into the bathroom and sat facing the mirror. Now that Fang Jingcheng was there, she sat on his lap instead. The silver strands of hair veiled his expression, keeping her guessing.

“Does it look terrible… That pig didn’t even get a chance to do anything. These were from my dad’s whip.”

“No, just… shocking. Where I’m from, when sons make mistakes, we rough-skinned boys can take it. But you’re a girl. I don’t understand how they could do this.”

Things were worse than he’d imagined. Her wounds looked more severe than what Bao Zhiwei had endured, yet he was a hopeless scoundrel, while the person who inflicted this on her was supposed to be a father who cherished his daughter.

Fang Jingcheng wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her damp neck, showing through his gentle actions that there was no gap between them. He was still captivated by her, yet his defeated posture made him look more like the child who’d been hurt.

“You’ve always been so good… and it just makes me sad.”

On a summer night, the warmth radiating from the young man’s healthy body felt like it could be felt at any moment. Xia Fu pressed her lips together, leaning on his strong thigh to feel the beat within, shifting her position as she replied disapprovingly,

“I don’t feel all that sad about it.”

Fang Jingcheng subtly backed away, a hint of awkwardness in his tone:

“Well, with you in my arms and this close, there is a bit of a normal teenage reaction…”

Not that he had taken off that much.

Xia Fu couldn’t help but grumble inwardly.

“I understand. I feel it, too.”

She bit her lip, holding his hand that was covering her stomach, guiding it gently over her navel, past her ribs, and finally to her heartbeat and the budding fruit of her desire.

He didn’t need to be so sad.

When he’d barged into that cage and said, “You’re no joke,” it was enough of a comfort. She didn’t want excessive sympathy; she didn’t want to be a pitiful body. She wanted a healthy, beautiful body like his, and she wanted to remain her, someone who held his heart captive. She liked seeing the tattoo of a dark snake slither along his arm in the water, her own heartbeat quickening in response.

Little by little, Xia Fu pressed herself against him.

Since she was injured, they couldn’t be too intense. Yet, she felt fulfilled from his long fingers and soft lips.

The lingering bit of unease in Fang Jingcheng’s heart smoothed out like a tiny crease on silk, softened by her warm, damp hands.

With a calm mind, he could handle the man entangled in her life.

His friend had sent him Chen Xinhong’s background via email. This man had been up to no good early on, selling defective tires that led to an accident and got him imprisoned. Rather than repenting, he’d colluded with a financial criminal and started committing fraud. The fancy computer Xia Fu had seen at the 4S store was just a tool for building scam websites.

To do this, Chen Xinhong trained a group of silver-tongued young workers to frequent pool halls, food stalls, and bars to promote various online “side jobs.” Xia Changqing was one of these fools who thought he’d struck gold. Normally, the plan would have ended at a simple scam, but after seeing Xia Fu’s photo, Chen Xinhong got greedy. His plan to retrieve the debt and set her up with a job was just bait on a long hook.

In the finance world, seasoned pros in S City’s prison had seen far more skilled cons than Chen Xinhong. His clumsy tactics were laughable in comparison. With just a few days, Fang Jingcheng could have him back behind bars.

But not yet. He needed Chen Xinhong to handle the mess Xia Fu’s parents left behind.

With Brother Li making threats at the shop, Chen Xinhong called Fang Jingcheng while he was buying Xia Fu milk tea. Crying and apologizing, Chen said he’d been foolish and wicked, begging for forgiveness, swearing he’d never dare trouble Xia Fu again. He put on a perfect performance, showing the essence of a self-interested businessman.

Fang Jingcheng didn’t bother with roundabout words and gave him a direct order:

Aside from firing the irresponsible Xia Changqing, Chen Xinhong had to reclaim the engagement money. The house Xia’s family gained from selling their daughter couldn’t remain. If they wanted a stable life, they’d have to work honestly instead of burdening Xia Fu. Ideally, they’d keep a respectful distance and leave her alone.

Chen Xinhong agreed hastily. Late at night, Xia Biao had Zhang Mei connect Fang Jingcheng’s call.

“Is Xia Fu there? Could I speak with her?”

“We’ve spoken with Teacher Li, and we’re old-fashioned, too stubborn, and didn’t listen well to Xia Fu. We were just worried about her young man getting her off track. We just wanted to educate her.”

Fang Jingcheng cut the woman off coldly, saying,

“She can’t talk right now; she’s feeling unwell, recovering with bandages on her back, and just took her fever medicine before falling asleep.” He reminded her that what they’d done wasn’t education but outright abuse.

Zhang Mei paused, then muttered,

“Oh… poor thing. Changqing’s been on medication and still hasn’t slept.”

“Wake her up and talk it over. We’re family, and it’s all for her own good. That house was bought for Xia Fu’s marriage… How can there be grudges among family?”

How clueless could they be?

Mentioning Xia Changqing made Fang Jingcheng seethe. Zhang Mei’s intentions were clear as day; she cared more about the house, soon to be reclaimed by Chen Xinhong, than Xia Fu’s well-being.

In his anger, Fang Jingcheng felt his vision blur, the orange glow from the bedside lamp seeming to flicker.

He clenched his fists, about to raise his voice, when he felt a soft, fuzzy thing nuzzling against his waist. Fang Jingcheng turned his head to see Xia Fu, who had been lying on her back, had rolled onto her side, hugging a milk-white stuffed goose tightly, reverting from a woman to a lonely little girl.

He reached out, gently stroking her dark hair, finding his calm again.

“Whether she’s willing or not, that’s up to Xia Fu to decide.”

“It’s late now. Let’s discuss it tomorrow.”

He lowered his voice and ended the call.