Chapter – 61
Luo Shuxin glanced at his phone and lifted his head. “Do you want to go?”
Jiang Jian: “……”
Jiang Jian got into Luo Yue’s car and borrowed Luo Shuxin’s phone to send Uncle Wang a message apologizing.
Luo Shuxin was sitting right beside him.
Jiang Jian secretly glanced at Luo Shuxin. Luo Shuxin seemed to sense it and turned his face toward him, his eyes carrying a questioning look.
Jiang Jian immediately pulled his gaze back and pretended to focus on typing a message to Uncle Wang.
Up front, Luo Yue spoke. “You really should change the lock at your place as soon as possible. You can’t be careless about this kind of thing.”
Jiang Jian felt as if he’d been bewitched—somehow, muddleheadedly, he’d followed Luo Shuxin into the car.
Maybe it was because he didn’t want to go home and face an interrogation soaked in guilt. Or maybe it was because Luo Shuxin, at that moment, was just too tempting.
After all, he’d only asked lightly.
Once they were in the car, Luo Yue casually asked about the reason. Jiang Jian stalled. The reason he didn’t want to go home was too complicated to explain.
And he definitely couldn’t say, because Luo Shuxin invited me—that would just dump the blame straight onto Luo Shuxin.
While he was stuck, Luo Shuxin made up an excuse for him, saying Jiang Jian had lost his house keys, that he was home alone, and wouldn’t be able to get inside tonight.
Luo Yue said, “By the way, Xiao Jian, what happened to the corner of your mouth?”
Jiang Jian: “……I fell downstairs and hit it.”
Luo Yue laughed. “You might as well say your girlfriend bit you.”
Luo Shuxin didn’t spare him at all. “He got jumped in a fight.”
Luo Yue let out a soft “Ah,” glanced at Jiang Jian again through the rearview mirror. “Is it serious? Was the other guy jealous that you’re good-looking? Why aim for the face?”
Jiang Jian smiled. “Maybe.”
Luo Yue asked, “Did you win in the end?”
Jiang Jian replied, “No. The teacher showed up in time and shut everything down. Nobody won.”
Luo Yue went, “Huh?” then said, “Why doesn’t Xiao Xin have any injuries? Didn’t he help you?”
Jiang Jian: ……
This was getting more and more ridiculous. Was this really something a mother should be saying? Why did she sound like she wanted her son to get hurt?
Luo Shuxin said, “I wasn’t there.”
Jiang Jian added, “Good thing he wasn’t. Otherwise he’d have gotten called in with parents today too.”
Luo Yue said, “So what? A student life without getting parents called in isn’t complete.”
Then she asked, “Xiao Jian, do you remember my phone number?”
Jiang Jian replied, “It’s in my contacts. Why?”
Luo Yue said, “If you ever get called in and it’s inconvenient to tell your family, just give them my number. I’ll hire an actor for you.”
Jiang Jian: “……”
He said, “That might be a bit late. The teachers already know my family situation. But thank you anyway, Sister Luo—that’s really generous of you.”
Luo Yue paused. Only then did she remember that Jiang Jian’s mother had passed away—something their homeroom teacher had told her.
She’d spoken too fast just now and forgotten about that.
Realizing she’d accidentally stepped on a landmine, Luo Yue swallowed the topic and switched to something else.
She was a professional streamer—there was never a cold moment in the car. The more she talked, the better the atmosphere became.
Luo Shuxin put away his phone after reviewing vocabulary and glanced at Jiang Jian. Jiang Jian was chatting nonsense happily with Luo Yue, his attention completely diverted, his face once again bright and animated.
Good thing I asked him to come over back then.
Luo Yue had been so busy worrying about someone else’s kid that when they got home and the lights came on, she finally noticed her own son’s pant leg was torn, and his leg was wrapped in a bandage.
The bandage was wound around several times and looked frightening. When it was removed, they found the wound was just long, not very deep—no stitches needed.
Luo Yue finally breathed a sigh of relief. Jiang Jian stood nearby, a little at a loss, preparing to confess and apologize for causing the injury, but Luo Shuxin stopped him with a look.
Luo Shuxin lied and said he’d injured himself by accident.
Luo Yue’s distress was written all over her face. The lively cheerfulness she’d had on the drive vanished, and an unusual sadness settled into the air.
Thinking back to how accustomed Luo Shuxin had looked to wounds and blood at noon, Jiang Jian faintly felt as if he’d brushed against a hidden, secret corner of him.
Originally, Luo Yue planned to have Jiang Jian sleep in the same room as Luo Shuxin. But for some reason, Luo Shuxin suddenly objected.
The memory of the last time—when Jiang Jian had rolled around so wildly in his sleep that he’d nearly pushed Luo Shuxin off the bed—was still vivid. Judging by Luo Shuxin’s attitude, he clearly wasn’t eager to suffer that again.
Jiang Jian felt a bit awkward. “That time I was drunk. I don’t normally sleep like that.”
Luo Shuxin didn’t find that very convincing. Once they were in bed, there’d be no escaping. Jiang Jian would even tug at people’s clothes—trying to leave halfway through would mean stripping naked and running.
In the end, Luo Yue didn’t let either of them sleep on the couch. She set up a folding camp bed in Luo Shuxin’s bedroom and had Luo Shuxin sleep there.
She warned, “You two can sleep in the same room, but don’t chat endlessly. If you can’t get up tomorrow, you’ll be climbing over the wall into campus again.”
Jiang Jian’s face flushed for a moment.
Last time they were late and climbed the wall, it had been because of him too.
He thought to himself that lately he seemed to be cursed with bad luck—why did nothing good ever happen when Luo Shuxin ran into him?
He felt quietly guilty for two seconds, then inexplicably decided that from now on, he should treat Luo Shuxin a little better.
By the time they got home it was already around eleven. After washing up, it was eleven-thirty, but neither of them showed any sign of wanting to sleep.
Jiang Jian changed into Luo Shuxin’s pajamas, sat cross-legged on Luo Shuxin’s bed holding an English handout as if studying, but in reality he was busy playing with Yi Ge, who was curled up on his lap.
Luo Shuxin sat at the desk doing problems. It seemed like he had an endless question bank, leaving Jiang Jian with only his back to look at.
The desk lamp cast light that carved out the details of Luo Shuxin’s silhouette. Jiang Jian’s eyesight was good enough to see every detail clearly—even each strand of hair sticking up.
The room was very quiet, broken only by Yi Ge’s low purring sounds of contentment.
Jiang Jian scratched the cat under the chin, his gaze resting on Luo Shuxin’s back, his thoughts running completely off the rails.
“Ahem.” Jiang Jian cleared his throat, striking a pose like he was about to give a speech.
