Xie Dingyuan: 【Congratulations can never be too many.】
Jiang Fuyue pressed her lips together. She wanted to ask if, in that solitary quarantine room in Tunijilia, the one who held her in his arms was him.
Yes, when Jiang Fuyue later recalled that scene—when she was burning with fever and half-unconscious—someone had indeed hugged her.
Her mind thought it, her hands typed it, and she tapped send.
If she wanted to ask, she would ask. She didn’t feel embarrassed.
If she were face-to-face with Xie Dingyuan, she would probably speak it aloud directly.
On the other end, a pause of two seconds, then came the reply: 【Yes.】
Jiang Fuyue’s lips curved without her realizing, her brows and eyes softening. Perhaps even she hadn’t noticed the change.
【How did you know I was there?】
Half a minute passed. No reply.
Three minutes…
Ten minutes… Still no reply.
Was this question so hard?
….
In the northern region of Suweitan North, a small city called Mashige.
Because of the rampaging Schankwo virus, it had become a deserted city.
Xie Dingyuan sat on a crude wooden block, the blazing sun like fire overhead. He slapped his suddenly black-screened phone, his lips pressed, expression sullen.
Kaza leaned over. “What are you doing? Why are you slapping your phone for no reason? Is this some new virus-prevention trick?”
Xie Dingyuan: “…No power.”
“Oh.” His was dead too. In this scorching sun, batteries often gave out.
But—
“Were you just chatting with someone?” Kaza asked, curious.
“What’s it to you?” Xie Dingyuan stood and walked off.
Kaza: “?”
“Professor Xie,” a medical worker ran up, “the temporary medical station has been set up. The instruments have passed testing and can now be used.”
“Severe cases to Zone A, open S-level protection. Mild to moderate cases to Zone B, A-level protection. All suspected cases remain in Zone C. Quickly divide into single-isolation spaces, increase staff, observe and record at all times.”
“Yes, I’ll arrange it right away!”
Kaza came up, gazing at the bleak desolation of the city, sighing. “It wasn’t a developed place to begin with. A virus can destroy everything. In the end, it’s always the common people who suffer.”
He patted Xie Dingyuan’s shoulder. “Thanks for your hard work, brother.”
“Rare to see you serious for once.” Xie Dingyuan lowered his head to check his protective gear, reminding, “Your hand. Off.”
Kaza’s lips twitched. Awkwardly, he withdrew.
Wood, oh wood, why don’t you understand how to be sentimental? Because you are wood!
They worked until sunset before the medical station began proper operations.
This was also Xie Dingyuan’s third virus sampling site.
Barring accidents, for the next two weeks, he would stay here, observing symptoms while analyzing samples.
Kaza dropped a boxed meal. “Eat. Took effort to get this.”
Xie Dingyuan lifted his eyes from the record sheet, gaze falling on the disposable plastic box. His brows shifted slightly.
“Know you can’t stand steamed couscous, so I got you rice with pickles. Just make do.”
Xie Dingyuan: “Where from?”
“There’s a Chinese restaurant up front.”
“Didn’t it already close down?”
“The owners live upstairs. When we delivered protective packs, they happened to be eating dinner. I asked them for a serving. Even the takeout box was right there.”
“…Thanks.”
Kaza snorted to himself: Who needs your thanks?
But his upturned lips betrayed him.
“Oh right, there’s also a post office up front. The boss is wild—no protection at all, still keeping the shop open. Are all you Huaxia folks this bold?”
Xie Dingyuan’s movements paused. “It’s run by a Huaxia person?”
“Yeah! Just gave him a pack. Told him to close, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I’ll go take a look…”
“Eh! Haven’t even finished your food yet!”
The so-called post office was really a convenience store, with a mailbox outside. Inside, tall shelves took up sixty percent of the space, piled high with letters, dustier the farther back.
The owner was a bearded old uncle, yellow-skinned, shallow eye sockets, a typical East Asian face.
“Told you, not closing means not closing. Don’t bother trying to persuade me.”
In Chinese, Xie Dingyuan said: “I’m not persuading.”
The old man, hearing his mother tongue, snapped awake from his drowsy half-sleep. “Then what are you here for?”
“Sending a letter.”
“Eh?” The uncle perked up, shuffled to the counter. “Where to? To whom?”
“Linhuai, Huaxia. To…” He paused. “The girl I like.”
“Good stuff!” The uncle lit up. “I love helping lovers send letters. Even the envelopes carry a sweet scent.”
He pulled out stationery and a pen. “Here, write. If I make it through, I guarantee to deliver it within three months. If I die… I’ll have someone else send it, but timing’s uncertain—maybe three to five months, maybe three to five years.”
Xie Dingyuan accepted, thought for a moment, then bent to write.
The uncle tried to sneak a peek but couldn’t catch it. The man wrote too fast; before a second glance, the paper was folded and sealed into the envelope.
He even sealed it himself, as if terrified of anyone seeing. Tch. Stingy.
“How much?”
The uncle sized him up. “You with the medical team?”
“Mm.”
“Then no charge.”
Xie Dingyuan didn’t refuse. He thanked him sincerely, then reminded the uncle to keep the store if he must, but do proper protection.
“I don’t want my letter delayed more than three months, even longer.”
He paused, adding seriously: “If it’s late, my wife will run off.”
The uncle’s face darkened. I thought you cared about my life. Turns out you only care about your wife not flying away?
“Yeah, yeah, I got it—” He waved him off.
Xie Dingyuan turned and left.
….
Jiang Fuyue slept soundly that night.
The next day, she officially returned to school.
Because of Fang Ye’s matter, she had taken a week more leave than Chen Cheng and Tan Jiaxu.
Xu Jing had been uncharacteristically generous, approving without even calling her parents.
Word was, he’d later been summoned to the principal’s office for it—
Hu Yongwei: “The college entrance exam is right around the corner, and you let her run wild outside?”
Xu Jing: “I trust her.”
“?”
“What wild, what tame? I’m telling you, Jiang Fuyue doesn’t need raising. She grows on her own.”
“…Uh. Well, I guess that’s not wrong.”
This day was no different from any other. Students of Class 3, Senior Class entered for morning reading.
Then—
A tall figure stepped in through the front door. The loose, oversized uniform on her somehow looked haute couture.
Barefaced, her skin still glowing pale. A simple high ponytail, ordinary yet not ordinary.
Soft sunlight draped her figure, like a fairy who hadn’t yet shed her halo upon descending.
In the quiet, someone suddenly shouted—
“Sister Yue is back!”
The class exploded.
“Ah! Two months not seeing her, my Goddess Yue got even prettier!”
“Can competitions nourish people?”
“Must be the power of knowledge!”
“First time hearing knowledge can beautify.”
“I want to ask—what’s it like to sweep three gold medals plus the special award? Light body? Do you float?”
“Confirmed—she’s the god I can’t catch up with.”
“Ugh… When she scored last place, I was second to last. Now she’s first, I’m still second to last.”
“Tragic. I’ll pity you for two seconds.”
“…”
Jiang Fuyue walked toward her seat. Though she’d been gone long, her desk and chair were spotless, not a speck of dust.
“Thanks,” she said softly to Wan Xiutong as she set down her bag.
The girl’s ears flushed red, cheeks burning. “N-no need to thank me.”
Inside, though, she screamed: I’d do it willingly!
Even after being desk mates so long, Wan Xiutong couldn’t resist Jiang Fuyue’s charm.
Sigh. Being goddess’s desk mate was really too hard!
In front, Liu Bowen and Lin Qiao turned their heads.
“You finally came back.”
Lin Qiao snorted. “Didn’t you say you solved problems faster without Sister Yue here?”
Liu Bowen choked. “I—that was my way of showing highest respect to the strong. You just don’t get it.”
“Heh…”
Jiang Fuyue took out gifts. “One each.”
“I love you, Jiang Jiang!”
“Sister Yue forever!”
“Hehe, as expected of the strong!”
The three wagged their little tails.
Jiang Fuyue beckoned to Liu Sisi across the aisle. “This one’s yours.”
She was flattered. “Me too?!”
“Of course.”
Not only her—Jiang Han and Ge Meng each had one too.
After school, Jiang Fuyue personally delivered theirs.
Life afterward was calm and fulfilling. She traveled only between home and school.
She never again received a WeChat from Xie Dingyuan.
In the blink of an eye, April came. Linhuai’s 215 secondary schools welcomed the city-wide first mock exam…
