Chapter 45: Sigh! The Injury & Capitalism

Lin Zhiyan felt the icy nutrient solution drip slowly into her veins through the tube in her arm, as though it wanted to freeze her blood solid. She felt it was absolutely necessary for her to go back to the student apartments today. She wasn’t even sure she still had the strength to stand.

Lu Weixi sat nearby with his legs crossed together, tilting his head as he said, “Are you okay? You look kind of half-dead.”

Lin Zhiyan opened her eyes. She had already calmed down.

Probably.

She stared at the ceiling, her voice so stiff and raw she almost suspected it belonged to someone else. “Not okay.”

One of Lu Weixi’s brows lifted. “Just because one course got canceled?”

Lin Zhiyan’s fingers spasmed, wrinkling the bedsheet beneath her grip. She tilted her head back, taking repeated deep breaths. Her voice sounded weak.

“I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

Then she added,

“Don’t provoke me.”

After saying that, Lin Zhiyan herself found it laughable.

Really, what could she do even if someone provoked her?

Ever since entering this school, she had been endlessly dealing with these people. Part of her thought that being able to extract money and resources from them was proof of her intelligence. Yet at the same time, she constantly sacrificed that money and those resources just to buy back her dignity.

There probably wasn’t anyone in the world as stupid as her.

She couldn’t fully humble herself and kneel before power, yet neither was she someone with true backbone, someone willing to give up everything for the sake of integrity alone.

Lin Zhiyan felt something lodged in her chest, choking her. So she swallowed hard, trying to force it down into her stomach.

The room fell silent.

Lu Weixi sat cross-legged, propping his cheek on one hand as he observed her.

A few minutes later, he rubbed his chin. Sunlight tinted his platinum hair faintly red as he comforted her:

“It’s actually not that serious. The course got canceled, so everyone lost credits, right?”

The string in Lin Zhiyan’s mind tightened instantly.

“Stop talking.”

Her tone was completely flat, like the voice of a ghost carried through a howling wind.

Of course, Lu Weixi was not the type to listen.

He climbed off the bed and leaned against its side, moving closer to her. The moment Lin Zhiyan sensed his gaze, the tension in her mind stretched even tighter.

Suddenly, she sat up. Her vision darkened again, and cold spread through her body. Ignoring Lu Weixi’s startled expression, she yanked out the nutrient tube and shoved her feet into her shoes before heading for the door.

Lu Weixi immediately grabbed her arm, his gray-blue eyes widening.

“You haven’t finished the nutrient infusion yet. Don’t faint again.”

He sounded the same as always—arrogant, overbearing, naive, carrying that thin layer of kindness that made it impossible to tell whether he was sincere or merely pretending.

Lin Zhiyan stopped walking, took a deep breath, then looked at him.

“Please stop bothering me. I’m really tired.”

“I’m already talking to you this nicely,” Lu Weixi said, sounding genuinely confused. There was a trace of impatience on his handsome face, but soon he straightened up seriously again.

“You misunderstood at noon. I didn’t actually want to do that to you. It was just a bargaining chip. If you want to blame someone, blame Jiang Yi for refusing. If he’d agreed, you probably never would’ve known about it.”

Lin Zhiyan looked at him.

“Wow. Should I feel honored? Honored that my grades became some noble negotiation chip?”

Lu Weixi’s lips moved slightly. He stared down at her for several seconds.

Finally, he said,

“I can compensate you.”

He released her arm and took out his terminal and wallet.

“Uh… I don’t have much money in my terminal account, but I do have cards.”

Lin Zhiyan stood there quietly, watching him seriously inspect the cards inside his wallet.

She saw the expensive watch on his wrist, the jeweled brooch pinned to the coat hanging beside the bed, the diamond cufflinks at his sleeves.

Standing against the light, Lu Weixi looked even more like a tyrant from a Western oil painting—handsome, upright, carrying an almost legendary aura. His tall frame cast her entirely within his shadow as his long fingers pulled out another card.

“This one can’t be used. It’ll get investigated.”

He glanced at it a few times before tossing it onto the bed, then pulled out another.

“This one has a few million on it, but it’s tied to my identity.”

“This card is… huh? A donut membership card. If you like donuts, you can have it.”

He kept rummaging through his wallet. Soon seven or eight cards had piled onto the bed.

Lin Zhiyan said nothing.

A shrill ringing filled her ears. Maybe it lasted seconds, maybe minutes. It was as if she had gone deaf.

But gradually, the sounds of circulating air and the rhythmic beeping of machines returned to her hearing.

She stared at Lu Weixi’s neck.

There were still bruises there.

Bruises she had left behind.

Right now she was exhausted. Even if she strangled him again, she probably wouldn’t manage to kill him.

But then Lin Zhiyan’s gaze shifted past Lu Weixi’s shoulder.

On the cabinet beside the hospital bed sat an ashtray.

If she walked over right now, picked it up, and smashed it into his head with all her strength…

Maybe he’d die.

Maybe he wouldn’t.

And if she knocked him unconscious first, then—

No.

He was from the Military-Political Department. His combat training wouldn’t be weak. He would react.

While Lin Zhiyan’s brain worked furiously, Lu Weixi narrowed his eyes at her.

His brows twitched.

“…You’re swallowing faster. Haven’t blinked either.”

Then he asked slowly,

“Are you looking for a weapon?”

Lin Zhiyan turned and walked toward the door again.

But Lu Weixi grabbed her wrist.

“You don’t want the money anymore?”

Those simple four words snapped the final taut string inside her.

Lin Zhiyan spun around, flinging his hand away and shoving hard against his chest.

“Can you just let me leave?!”

Lu Weixi barely moved, though his eyes widened slightly, looking both innocent and shocked.

Seeing that expression made heat rush straight into Lin Zhiyan’s head. Clenching her teeth, she grabbed his collar and yanked violently, her voice low and furious.

“Stop bothering me already!”

After venting, she turned and walked several steps away.

Then Lu Weixi said:

“You put your shoes on the wrong feet.”

Lin Zhiyan completely broke down.

She screamed and turned around.

“Go die, asshole! One day I swear I’ll—”

Even in her fury, she still realized that even after thirty years, she probably still wouldn’t be able to get revenge on him. The thought drained all strength from her threat.

So she simply ran.

She only wanted to leave Lu Weixi—that infuriating bastard who only knew how to piss people off—far behind her.

Her head still felt dizzy. Evening had already fallen as she sprinted wildly through the hallways.

She didn’t know where she was running to.

She only felt as though a fire were roasting her heart.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know who had lit the charcoal beneath it.

Why?

Her heart kept asking.

But she didn’t even know what she was asking anymore.

Was she asking why these people could erase all her hard work with a mere flick of their fingers?

But hadn’t she already known that when she made her deal with Zephi and obtained that royal internship ticket?

Was she asking why they thought money could buy everything, including her dignity?

But when she agreed to sell fake affection in exchange for money and a house, hadn’t she already known then too?

Lin Zhiyan.

Lin Zhiyan.

When everything in this world could be sold, why did you think your grades, your dignity, your hard work wouldn’t also end up with a price tag?

Or had you always known?

You just believed you were clever enough to solve everything. Clever enough to control everything.

Countless voices crowded her mind. They were too loud.

So she could only run harder.

She rounded a corner, descended the stairs, weaving endlessly through corridors. The faster she ran, the blurrier her vision became.

The hallways blurred.

The ceiling blurred.

The floor blurred.

Everything twisted together like a whirlpool spiraling into a storm, like waves crashing endlessly forward.

Darkness clouded her vision.

But she didn’t fall to the ground.

Instead, she fell into a hard, warm embrace.

“Clack—”

Something made a sound.

An arm wrapped firmly around her waist, supporting her collapsing body.

“Lin Zhiyan?”

Jiang Yi lowered his head, surprise flashing across his face.

Lin Zhiyan’s body trembled violently. Her black hair was disheveled, and she burned as though on fire. The scorching heat seeped through her clothes into Jiang Yi’s hands.

His arm tensed as he held her upright, but she seemed boneless now, head tilted back limply.

Her face was flushed crimson with sweat dampening her skin. She wore no expression. Her dark wet eyes were unfocused, her lips trembling faintly.

She struggled to focus on him for a moment before lowering her gaze again.

Lin Zhiyan said nothing.

Leaning against his arm at the waist, she looked like a dying, withering lifeform, the feverish redness on her face like the heat of illness.

Jiang Yi closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, he opened them again.

Then he bent down and lifted her into his arms.

“To the lounge.”

Lin Zhiyan still said nothing. She was beyond exhausted. Her temples throbbed violently, her throat felt like it was burning.

She only stared blankly at the ceiling.

After counting an unknown number of lights overhead, they entered the elevator.

Jiang Yi scanned his authorization, but the elevator route was locked down. Slowly, it carried them through an internal passage before stopping at the lounge.

He opened the door, kicked it shut behind him, and placed her carefully onto the sofa.

Lin Zhiyan sat there trembling from the intense exertion, her thin body bent like a fragile bamboo stalk.

Jiang Yi didn’t ask anything.

He poured her a glass of water, lowered the room temperature, then took something out from his uniform pocket and placed it in front of her.

Lin Zhiyan glanced down.

Two ice cream buns.

The ice cream inside had partially melted.

Jiang Yi noticed too. After a brief pause, he said,

“I bought them after talking with the school administration. But another meeting came up unexpectedly, so I got delayed.”

His dark eyes shifted aside as he picked one up.

“I can put them in the freezer again.”

Without speaking, Lin Zhiyan suddenly pressed down on his hand.

Jiang Yi’s pupils contracted sharply. His slender fingers twitched.

But Lin Zhiyan merely pulled the bun away from him and began eating in huge bites.

Several times her head trembled slightly, probably from the cold hurting her brain. Yet she ate with frightening seriousness, almost viciously, like she was tearing apart someone’s flesh with her teeth.

She devoured one bun in a single breath, drank a large cup of warm water, then attacked the second one.

Jiang Yi glanced at her.

Today she wore the Literature Department uniform skirt. Her jacket and shirt were messy.

Below the hem of her skirt, her shoe heels had been crushed underfoot. Her black knee socks had slipped down, dust stained her heels, and one sock had even snagged and torn.

Noticing his gaze, Lin Zhiyan bent her knees and pulled her feet backward, nearly hiding her right foot under the sofa.

Jiang Yi withdrew his gaze and stood up.

When he returned, she had already finished eating. Yet that sickly, dying aura around her remained.

She looked exhausted beyond words, curled silently into one corner of the sofa.

Jiang Yi walked over and knelt on one knee before her, taking hold of her right foot.

Lin Zhiyan still looked dazed. Lowering her head, she watched him with drooping eyes. Even the tear mole beneath her eye seemed submerged in a sea of bitterness.

She said nothing, only frowned.

Jiang Yi said nothing either.

He simply removed her sock.

Lin Zhiyan frowned deeper.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice was rough and hoarse.

For no reason at all, Jiang Yi suddenly thought she sounded like one of the ducks on the school lake.

Suppressing the thought, he replied,

“Don’t move.”

His fingers were cold. The moment they touched her overheated skin, it felt as though he were holding a burning coal.

The heat scorched his skin, pierced his bones, burrowed into his blood.

As Jiang Yi rolled the sock up above her ankle, he found exactly what he expected:

A fresh cut about the length of a finger.

She must have gotten it while running earlier.

His voice turned cold and hard.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’ll heal anyway.” Lin Zhiyan sounded indifferent, almost self-destructive. “There’s nothing worth mentioning.”

Jiang Yi said nothing.

He simply took out a spray bottle and sprayed the wound.

Lin Zhiyan tilted her head back. Sweat slid down from her forehead as her face turned paler. The icy sting made her leg jerk violently several times.

“Th-thank you.”

“It’s fine.”

Jiang Yi gripped her leg firmly and applied a healing patch over the wound.

As he worked, he asked,

“Can you tell me now why you were like that earlier?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Lin Zhiyan gripped the sofa armrest, speaking in uneven breaths.

“The course got canceled. My credits got affected. All that class time was wasted. So I felt bad. That’s all.”

Jiang Yi’s movements paused.

He looked up at her, dark eyes calm.

“You could say more than that.”

Lin Zhiyan laughed softly, her dark eyes curving.

“And from what position should I say more to you?”

She rested her forehead against one hand, black hair falling down.

“We’re not teacher and student anymore. At best, we’re just classmates at the same school. Beyond that, there’s nothing.”

“I thought it through carefully. Even with one less elective, combined with my major courses, I can still get first place in GPA. I just won’t have enough credits, so I’ll need to take more next semester. So it’s not—ugh!”

A sharp pain shot through her ankle.

Her body jolted as she looked toward Jiang Yi.

Jiang Yi held her ankle, his thumb pressing directly against the wound. Even kneeling on one knee, he still carried an air of looking down upon her.

His eyes fixed on hers as he slowly released the pressure.

“What are you doing? That hurts!”

Lin Zhiyan moved her foot, sweat forming at the tip of her nose.

“If you don’t want me to talk, then I won’t. You don’t have to do this.”

Jiang Yi didn’t answer.

He merely pulled her sock back up and straightened her shoe.

“So you do cry out when something hurts. Then why were you acting like you could silently endure everything earlier?”

Lin Zhiyan pulled her foot away, her toes pressing lightly against the carpet.

“Everything hurts.”

Jiang Yi frowned.

Anger flickered in his dark eyes, his thin lips pressing tightly together.

Yet after several seconds, he only sighed softly. Holding her ankle again, the calluses from handling guns brushed against her skin as he carefully put her shoe back on.

Then he stood, brushing dust off his knee.

“So now all you know how to do is say it hurts?”

Lin Zhiyan turned her head aside.

“So what? You want me to ask you to uphold justice for me? Beat up Lu Weixi again? Or beg you for special privileges so my credits can be restored?”

“And if you did use privilege to help me, then what about the other students? Wouldn’t they be innocent too?”

Jiang Yi’s lips moved slightly, but he said nothing.

“Or maybe,” Lin Zhiyan looked at him and smiled faintly, “you want me to say I don’t mind you people treating everyone’s credits like toys just because you had a fight?”

“Or maybe you want me to ask you to solve everything for me again, to save me once more with your fists?”

“Or perhaps… you also want to compensate me?”

Jiang Yi’s gaze grew darker and darker as he silently stared at her.

Finally he asked,

“So what’s your decision?”

Then he continued,

“Like in the sandbox simulation? Would you rather destroy everything together?”

“Of course…” Lin Zhiyan paused several seconds before saying, “No.”

She looked at Jiang Yi.

“Because now I’m no longer afraid of losing.”

Jiang Yi’s pupils widened suddenly.

“What?”

“Because now I can very righteously say one thing.”

Lin Zhiyan suddenly declared:

“Ah. Capitalism.”

Jiang Yi raised a brow.

He genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh or not. Yet the heavy atmosphere from earlier really did seem to disperse with the wind.

“I’m going back to rest. Thank you.”

Lin Zhiyan stood up, meeting his eyes directly.

“And I’m not that silently enduring, either. It’s just that biting people doesn’t hurt.”

For example, back when he had people pin her down in the lounge for interrogation—what could she really do?

At most, like just now, she could kick off her shoe and make him pick it up and put it back on for her.

Thinking of that, her smile widened, revealing a small glimpse of white teeth.

A little rabbit-like.

Jiang Yi found himself thinking again:

Rabbit bites probably don’t hurt.

Lin Zhiyan withdrew her smile and walked toward the exit. Even with her injured ankle, her pace never slowed.

Jiang Yi said nothing.

He only watched her retreating figure.

He still didn’t understand.

Didn’t understand why, after everything, she could still make a joke like that.

He let out a long breath, walked to the table, and picked up his terminal.

A sleepy voice answered shortly afterward.

“Hello?”

“Lu Suiyuan,” Jiang Yi said coldly. “You still don’t know what Lu Weixi did?”

The voice on the other end sounded even sleepier at first, but several seconds later became fully alert.

“What? Let me check.”

Silence followed.

Finally, a laugh burst through the call.

“f*ck, Lu Weixi really deserves a beating.”

“As long as you know.” Jiang Yi’s voice remained icy. “Stop wasting what little friendship we have left.”

“And clean up this mess properly. Including the credits for those students. Understood?”

The current principal had once come from District Four and previously served as Lu Suiyuan’s father’s secretary-general.

The reason Lu Weixi’s courses had all received approval this semester was because Lu Suiyuan’s father, Lu Weixi’s father, and the principal had arranged it together.

Now that things had escalated into this disaster, Lu Suiyuan could only accept it. Yet his voice remained bright and easygoing.

“Alright, alright, I got it. It’ll take some time, but I’ll arrange everything as soon as possible.”

Then he added,

“Okay, enough talking. I’m gonna go yell at Lu Weixi now.”

“Sooner rather than later.”

Jiang Yi hung up.

As he sat on the sofa, he noticed a faint smear of blood on the carpet.

…From the wound on her foot.

His fingers curled sharply, as though that tiny red stain were a spark burning his skin.

He stood immediately, shrugged off his coat, and strode outside.

He had already done enough for her.

One step further—

and he would be crossing the line.

By the time Lin Zhiyan got home, evening had already fallen.

Her entire body ached terribly, yet she still kept a straight face as she pulled out her terminal.

The flash of inspiration she had ignored last night resurfaced now.

Her gaze fixed tightly on Lu Weixi’s black profile icon—

and the period nickname: “.”