CHAPTER 12

Xu Yi straightened his body and stopped moving recklessly. For the first time, he truly felt the weight of the girl in his arms—so light that he could hold her with one hand.

The system sounded helpless: [Host, the task has failed. You don’t need to fake illness anymore. Host, Host…]

Wen Yang cursed, “Damn it!”

Xu Yi felt a muffled vibration in his chest. He looked down at her, and seeing her weak state, his tone softened unconsciously, a tenderness he himself found hard to believe. “What did you say?” Even he was startled by his gentle voice. After a brief moment of confusion, he regained composure and said, “Xiao Yan, get my phone—it’s in the desk compartment.”

“Got it,” Xiao Yan replied.

By the doorway, a group of elementary school students was crowded around. As Xiao Yan turned, they quickly made way for her.

“Big sister, where does it hurt?”

“Big Sister Yangyang~”

One little girl was already so frightened she had started crying.

Xiao Yan retrieved the phone, and at that moment, the principal arrived hurriedly with several teachers.

“Wen Yang, where are you feeling unwell?”

More and more people gathered. Students from other classes even peeked out curiously to watch. Wen Yang thought that even if she were in unbearable pain, she couldn’t endure the humiliation of being surrounded by onlookers gawking at her distress.

She gritted her teeth against the pain, clutching her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Fortunately, she wasn’t someone who kept her nails long, or her hands would’ve been bleeding by now.

“What’s the password?” Xiao Yan moved closer to Xu Yi.

“784569,” Xu Yi said, glancing at Wen Yang, whose forehead was damp with sweat. “Call the number labeled ‘Zhang Yuan.’”

“Alright.” Xiao Yan tapped through the contacts, dialed, and held up the phone for Xu Yi to speak.

“Zhang Yuan, arrange the best hospital nearest to Xunshui Village.”

“Yes, Young Master. Do you need us to pick you up? We haven’t left yet.” Zhang Yuan caught the urgency in Xu Yi’s voice and immediately began making arrangements.

“Come quickly, to the school.”

The principal started dispersing the onlookers. “Get back to class! Now!”

The students scattered reluctantly, though their curiosity lingered.

The principal suggested, “Should we let Wen Yang lie down for a bit? Carrying her like this can’t be comfortable.”

A younger teacher chimed in, “Let’s take her to our dormitory.”

Xu Yi carried her steadily toward the teachers’ dorm.

“Here, over here.”

Xu Yi gently placed Wen Yang onto the bed. As soon as she made contact with the mattress, Wen Yang curled into herself, her feet deliberately left hanging off the side to avoid dirtying the teacher’s bedding.

The young female teacher brought her warm water to drink, asked which part of her stomach hurt, wiped the sweat off her forehead, and kept talking to her, trying to distract her from the pain.

Meanwhile, Xu Yi stood nearby, feeling helpless. He was anxious but completely unable to do anything useful.

Wen Yang kept her eyes shut, her brows furrowed tightly. She thought bitterly that she might as well stab herself with a knife—at least that way she’d end her suffering and wouldn’t have to endure this living hell.

The system, seeing the pitiful state of its host, didn’t dare say a word. It quietly reported to its superiors, hoping there was some way to alleviate her condition.

About an hour later, a van pulled up at the school gate.

“Young Master, we’ve arrived at the school,” Zhang Yuan said.

Xu Yi ended the call, carefully lifted Wen Yang again, and headed for the school gate.

“Young Master.” Zhang Yuan had already opened the car door.

The principal followed close behind, offering words of caution. “Be careful on the road.”

---

Xu Yi cradled Wen Yang’s head in his lap and let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes briefly.

The car jolted as it navigated the rugged mountain roads. Xu Yi steadied Wen Yang’s shoulders and knees to prevent her from falling.

Wen Yang’s voice came out weakly. “Xu Yi…”

Xu Yi leaned down, placing his ear close to her lips. “What did you say? Say it again.”

“Give me a knife,” she whispered.

Xu Yi didn’t know how to respond. He was torn between anger and amusement, though he lacked the heart to retort. His chest filled with an unfamiliar ache. “We’re almost at the hospital. Just hold on a little longer.”

Wen Yang bit her lip, gnawed on the flesh below her thumb, even nipped at her tongue. If she’d known it would be this agonizing, she would have chosen to die on the spot—no pain, just eternal peace.

Wen Yang drifted in and out of consciousness as they arrived at the hospital.

The doctors determined that Wen Yang had severe stomach ulcers caused by years of poor dietary habits. Her condition was serious enough to require immediate surgery.

Zhang Yuan stayed with Xu Yi outside the operating room.

Xu Yi stared at the glowing red “In Surgery” sign above the door. With Wen Yang absent, his thoughts felt untethered. The concern he felt seemed excessive for an ordinary friendship. Yet the memories of their brief time together played in his mind like a slideshow, leaving his thoughts a muddled mess.

---

When Wen Yang opened her eyes, she was greeted by a pristine white ceiling—not the dark wooden beams of the two-story houses in the village. The air carried the sterile smell of hospital disinfectant.

The sharp pain in her stomach wound reminded her of the surgery. She sighed and lay back down obediently.

Wen Yang: 006, what’s going on?

Before the system could reply, Xu Yi entered the room. Unaware that she was awake, he walked to the window, drew the curtains tightly shut, and turned on a humidifier. A stream of mist began to fill the room.

“You’re awake.”

Wen Yang, uncomfortable with the angle, closed her eyes. “Talk somewhere else.”

Xu Yi’s earlier cold demeanor melted away. He stood firm, stubborn yet concerned. “I’m not leaving. Are you feeling discomfort anywhere else?”

Wen Yang opened her eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable with you looking down at me like that.”

Xu Yi, however, thought his current posture was just fine—very satisfying, in fact. He spoke in a reprimanding tone, “Do you know what caused your illness this time?”

“You can say it yourself. Don’t ask me.”

Now, who was teaching whom?

Xu Yi’s gaze shifted to her abdomen under the blanket. “You got a stomach ulcer from eating instant noodles for too long.”

“I’m not dead.” She let out a cold laugh. “But when the pain hit, I might as well have died. It was worse than death.”

Xu Yi decided not to engage in any discussions about life or death. He noticed the girl seemed to have some nihilistic tendencies. “You should stay in the hospital for a few days and get some rest.”

“Alright.” Wen Yang closed her eyes. The anesthetic had worn off, and she could feel the pain from the surgical incision. The thought of the sharp scalpel cutting into her stomach gave her chills.

—

When Wen Yang opened her eyes again, the room was pitch dark. It was probably nighttime.

She wasn’t sure how many IV drips she’d received, but now she needed to use the restroom. Propping herself up on one arm, she noticed the IV needle had been removed from the back of her right hand. Slowly, she got out of bed, taking small, careful steps toward the door and switching on the room light.

The sudden brightness of the cold white light stung her eyes, making her shield them as her tear glands reflexively reacted. Wen Yang opened the bathroom door—ah, a familiar setting.

After using the restroom, she came out, grabbed the TV remote, and settled on the sofa with a pillow. She flipped through the channels until she found a movie channel. Feeling thirsty, she poured herself a cup of hot water to cool down.

The movie was a foreign one about a group of kids fighting against an evil sorcerer. The sorcerer, who practiced dark magic, had captured many children. A brave team of clever and courageous kids from the village banded together to defeat the sorcerer and rescue their friends.

The scene progressed to the small team heading to the sorcerer’s forest lair to begin the rescue mission.

Before Xu Yi even entered the room, he noticed the light was on. Wen Yang must have woken up. He carried the dinner he’d brought inside, but the hospital bed was empty. A quick glance revealed her lying on the sofa.

Wen Yang turned her head to glance at him, her eyes locking onto the box in his hands.

She was hungry.

Xu Yi unpacked the food, laying out the dishes. On his side, there was an assortment of meats and vegetables, while hers consisted of two large bowls of plain, watery congee.

Wen Yang stared at the two bowls of congee with a resentful look, showing no intention of eating them.

“What, do you expect me to feed you?” Xu Yi poured himself a glass of water, and noticing her empty cup, refilled it.

Wen Yang slowly sat up. The congee wasn’t too thick or too thin. She dipped her spoon in, gently blew on it, and took a sip.

The congee was sweet with no extra flavors. The rice was soft but not mushy, and the taste was acceptable—as long as Xu Yi wasn’t eating those other dishes in front of her.

“What’s the movie about?” Xu Yi asked as he came out of the bathroom, hands freshly washed. He sat across from Wen Yang, peeling shrimp while glancing at the TV.

“The importance of teamwork and cooperation.”

Xu Yi paused, then burst out laughing. “How pathetic—someone can only watch but can’t eat.”

Wen Yang sipped her congee, ignoring him.

“Wen Yang.”

“What?”

“It’s the first time I’ve called you by your name. I’m serious.”

“Okay.” Wen Yang set down her spoon, equally serious, and waited for him to continue.

“Will you still eat instant noodles in the future?”

Wen Yang didn’t want to risk dying twice. “I’ll eat less.”

“You—! You’ll still eat them!” Xu Yi glared at her, dumbfounded. “Fine, go ahead. Eat until your stomach rots again, but don’t come crying to me about the pain.”

“I didn’t realize you were so kind-hearted,” Wen Yang replied, unwilling to explain her reasoning. She wasn’t from this world. Sooner or later, she’d leave. There was no need to waste effort pampering herself.

Xu Yi could tell she was feigning ignorance and being obstinate. This was a lost cause.

“Do as you please. I’m done trying to talk sense into you.” He sounded like a teacher exasperated with a particularly difficult student.

“Thanks for caring.” Wen Yang appreciated the sentiment.

Xu Yi, however, thought she was mocking him for meddling. He ate his shrimp and meat in big bites, determined to tempt her without mercy.

Wen Yang, having already drunk half a cup of water earlier, finished just one bowl of congee before she felt full. She returned to the sofa and continued watching TV.

The two of them stayed alone together until the movie ended. Wen Yang had slept through the afternoon and was now wide awake.

When Xu Yi saw the movie credits rolling, he cleaned up the dishes and said coldly, “Get some rest early.”

—

After months of hardship, Wen Yang was finally experiencing the perks of a well-funded life in the hospital. She didn’t even have to attend classes—it was wonderful.

But wonderful things were fleeting. The next moment, half her good mood was gone.

System: “Host, are you feeling better now?”

Wen Yang: “I’m fine.”

System: “The task failed again this time.”

Wen Yang jolted awake from her daydream—she’d fainted, and Xu Yi had caught her.

Wen Yang: “That’s two failures now. Is there any impact?”

System: “For now, there shouldn’t be.”

Wen Yang wanted a clear answer—yes or no. A vague response left her unsure.

Perhaps it was the current environment affecting her mood, but Wen Yang felt a growing sense of apathy and resignation toward the tasks.

The pain today was much lighter than yesterday. She got out of bed, opened the curtains, and cracked the window for fresh air.

The cool autumn breeze brushed her face. Three seasons had passed since she arrived here.

When Xu Yi entered, he saw Wen Yang’s hospital gown puffed up by the wind—a somewhat amusing sight.

“You just had surgery yesterday, and now you’re letting in the cold wind. Aren’t you afraid of getting sick again?”

Wen Yang shut the window to stop his nagging. “At worst, I’ll catch a cold. What, do you think I’d end up in surgery again?”

Xu Yi felt like an overworked parent, unappreciated despite his efforts. You can’t win with her.