Late at night, the villa was so quiet that only the faint hum of the climate control system could be heard. The chandelier in the living room cast a soft glow.
Zhou Chiye lounged on the sofa, his fingers hesitating over his phone screen.
His mother, Mrs. Zhou, walked over carrying a plate of fruit. Zhou Chiye caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and immediately flipped his phone over.
Mrs. Zhou’s lips twitched.
She didn’t recall having a habit of snooping through her kid’s phone.
“Chatting with someone so secretively?” she teased.
Zhou Chiye cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just a buddy.”
“A buddy?” Mrs. Zhou’s expression made it clear she didn’t believe him.
Zhou Chiye glanced at the face mask plastered on his mother’s skin, wrinkling his nose in disgust. It looked like paste smeared on her face.
But maybe girls liked that kind of thing?
“Mom,” Zhou Chiye suddenly spoke up.
Mrs. Zhou sat down on the sofa and looked at him curiously.
“Get me a full set of your skincare products,” he said seriously. “I’m giving them to a buddy.”
He’d already paid, but he still hadn’t sent his apology gift. Zhou Chiye had always prided himself on being a man of grace.
Mrs. Zhou was quiet for a moment. “These are women’s products. Are they really suitable for your buddy?”
Zhou Chiye answered firmly, “Definitely.”
Mrs. Zhou studied him, clicking her tongue in astonishment.
Giving a girl a gift and actually thinking of skincare—was he finally growing some sense?
“Then let Mom pick out a set for younger people,” she said lazily, leaning back into the sofa. “The stuff I use would be too strong for your age.”
Zhou Chiye really didn’t want to look at the stuff on her face anymore, so he patted her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.”
But as soon as the thought crossed his mind that Ji Chaoxi might end up with that kind of goop on her face, he fell silent.
The balcony was enclosed by rusty security bars. Water dripped straight down from the laundry line, and the air smelled of laundry detergent.
Ji Huaichuan carried a basin over, only for a drop of water from a shirt on the line to land right in his eye.
He was about to curse when he looked up and saw the skirt hanging there. His lips twitched. He took it down and, feeling pathetic, wrung it dry.
That idiot never wrung her clothes out properly, and the worst part was he couldn’t even call her out on it.
If his own clothes weren’t wrung dry enough, she’d be on his case in seconds.
Today was his grandparents’ death anniversary, so he had to burn paper offerings for them. His aunt Ji Fangyun had specifically called, telling Ji Huaichuan to burn some for his father too.
So after burning paper for his grandparents, he started on his father’s.
Crouching by the fire, he muttered as he burned: “Dad, I’m your son. I’m sending you money tonight. Come get it, Dad. Spend it wisely over there.”
He stirred the ashes with a stick. “This is yours. No one else can take it. Stash it in your pocket. Up there, make sure we three have enough money to get by down here…”
Jiang Chaoxi sneaked a peek from behind, but was immediately yanked out by Ji Huaichuan.
He kept burning. “Things are fine at home. Don’t worry. If there’s anything you’re missing, just go without it—don’t send us any signs or anything.”
It was already very late. The neighbors upstairs had fallen asleep, only to be jolted awake by the mournful chant.
At first, they thought it would stop after one person’s name.
But then came a second, a third…
They covered their ears tightly. Oh well, if someone’s family had to lose so many people at once, a little noise was understandable.
The next day was even hotter than the day before.
Hardly anyone was on campus; everyone huddled in their classrooms with the air conditioning on.
Ji Chaoxi rushed over to Zhou Chiye, panting. He frowned at her sunburned face.
Was her skin really that fragile? A little sun and she turned red…
Without a word, he shoved the bundle of skincare products into her arms and then began inspecting her other finances again.
The income looked normal now, but she’d spent far too little.
Zhou Chiye stared harshly at the wrist holding the skincare set. It was so thin—had she never eaten properly in her life?
“Do you… not eat much?” he asked abruptly.
Ji Chaoxi blinked. “I do eat, bro.”
She glanced at him, confused about what he meant.
Zhou Chiye clicked his tongue. She looked like a bean sprout—one shove and she’d fall over.
As if testing his theory, he coldly poked her shoulder. She stumbled back a step.
Ji Chaoxi stared at him in disbelief.
What the heck!
Zhou Chiye’s eyes darted away, suddenly feeling guilty. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eat more. You look like you’ve never had a proper meal.”
Kind of pathetic.
Ji Chaoxi nodded silently.
“Thanks for caring, bro.”
The moment the words left her mouth, his face darkened again. “Didn’t I tell you not to say that kind of sappy stuff? I’m not that kind of guy.”
Ji Chaoxi: ?
She stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.
That was sappy?
Had Zhou Chiye ever actually interacted with a normal person in his whole life…
That afternoon, when he was playing basketball, Zhou Chiye kept glancing at his own wrist and thinking of Ji Chaoxi’s.
Then he looked at his own rough, calloused hands, remembering how she’d gripped a water bottle the other day.
How had her family raised her? Badly!
The guys around him noticed Zhou Chiye was off his game today, so they stopped playing after a while.
Zhou Chiye sat on the bench, drinking water and frowning.
“What do you think she looks like?”
The guy with the single eyelid wiped sweat off his face. “Who?”
Zhou Chiye snapped impatiently, “Ji Chaoxi.”
The guy paused at the unfamiliar name before realizing who he meant.
“She’s fine. Why?”
Zhou Chiye’s frown deepened. “Fine?”
The guy looked puzzled. “Yeah. Youthful, energetic. What else?”
Most people their age were like that.
“You don’t think she looks pathetic?”
At that, the guy spat out his water.
“How is she pathetic?”
Besides, he’d seen her run fast during PE. She was good at sports and had good grades—nothing pathetic about her.
Zhou Chiye gazed at the camphor trees in the distance, arms resting on the bench. “You really don’t find her pitiful?”
The guy shook his head. “No. Why are you so set on feeling sorry for her, bro?”
She clearly didn’t need his pity.
Zhou Chiye’s face turned sour. It wasn’t that he wanted to feel sorry for her—she just looked pitiful!
Her hands looked pitiful, her face looked pitiful, and even the way she talked was pitiful.
The guy was left speechless as Zhou Chiye, fuming, suddenly got up and started running.
Just because he didn’t think Ji Chaoxi was pitiful, Zhou Chiye ran off in a huff?
Since when did their bro evolve into a saint?
