RHITICSG 11

Actually, it wasn’t contagious — but it did have a bit to do with Jiang Jian. Luo Shuxin caught a cold from the air conditioner.

The classroom was crowded, so the temperature had been set low. The standing air conditioner sat in the back-right corner — right behind Jiang Jian and Luo Shuxin. That spot had the strongest cold air in the entire classroom.

Yesterday afternoon and during evening study, Luo Shuxin hadn’t worn a jacket and ended up freezing himself into a cold.

Every time Luo Shuxin coughed, Jiang Jian looked at him. Cough — look. Cough — look.

It wasn’t like Jiang Jian wanted to, but he couldn’t help it. He kept thinking Luo Shuxin caught his cold and felt guilty.

During morning reading alone, he must’ve looked at him over a hundred times. Eventually, he realized Luo Shuxin wasn’t coughing as much anymore. Maybe Jiang Jian had been staring too much, so Luo Shuxin thought his coughing was bothering him and started holding it in.

He half-clenched his fist against his lips, still coughing a little, but clearly trying to make the sound as small as possible.

Jiang Jian: “?”

Great. Now he felt even more guilty.

Why are you holding it in?? Did I tell you not to cough???

Morning study felt endless. Jiang Jian didn’t know if Luo Shuxin was suffering, but he sure was. It was torture. Several times, he nearly blurted out, “If you need to cough, just cough!”

But every time their eyes met — calm and unreadable — he swallowed the words back down.

At breakfast, Shao Xing was chattering nonstop beside him, asking what gifts Jiang Jian had bought for the Yin twins’ birthday. Jiang Jian didn’t hear a single word. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

Halfway back to class, he made up an excuse to send Shao Xing away and went to the school infirmary himself to buy cold medicine.

When he returned, Luo Shuxin wasn’t working on problems — he was asleep on his desk.

Jiang Jian carefully set the plastic bag of medicine on his table. When the classmate in front of him tried to talk, he even gestured for them to keep quiet.

Luo Shuxin slept until the bell rang. When he stirred, eyes still hazy with sleep, he heard the rustling of plastic. He blinked, saw the medicine on his desk, and instinctively turned to look at Jiang Jian.

Jiang Jian said, righteously, “Why are you looking at me? That bag was already there when I got back from breakfast.”

Luo Shuxin nodded, moved the bag aside, rubbed his temples, and opened his textbook.

Something in Jiang Jian’s chest itched — like a hook scraping around inside. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna take the medicine? No water?”

As he spoke, his hand was already on his thermos. He was one reply away from pouring him hot water.

Luo Shuxin’s voice was a bit hoarse — soft, brushing against the ears like a cat’s tail. “I already took medicine this morning. Taking more of the same kind would cause an overdose.”

Jiang Jian: “…”

Why didn’t you say that earlier?!

Luo Shuxin spent the whole morning coughing on and off.

Which meant Jiang Jian spent the whole morning drowning in guilt. Every time Luo Shuxin coughed, his heart skipped a beat.

By lunchtime, Jiang Jian couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Luo Shuxin’s wrist and dragged him out of the classroom.

At the time, Luo Shuxin was in the middle of explaining a question to Shao Xing, holding Shao Xing’s workbook in one hand.

Shao Xing blinked, confused. “Jian Jian?”

“Don’t worry about it! And don’t follow! This is between me and him!” Jiang Jian barked from across the hall. “Also, if you say those two words again, I’ll skin you alive!”

Shao Xing: “?”

Jiang Jian hauled Luo Shuxin straight into the infirmary, shoved him onto the sickbed, pointed, and said to the school nurse,

“Put him on an IV! Drip until he stops coughing!”

The nurse chuckled. “Wow, we’ve got a domineering CEO type here.”

Jiang Jian glared at him.

Still laughing, the nurse came over, touched Luo Shuxin’s forehead, and asked casually, “The medicine from this morning didn’t work?”

Jiang Jian: “???”

Both Jiang Jian and Luo Shuxin had striking faces — anyone who wasn’t face-blind would remember them.

Besides, barely three students had visited the infirmary these past few days.

That morning, Jiang Jian had come to buy cough medicine. The nurse had asked who it was for, and he’d brushed it off, saying it was for “a classmate.”

Now here he was, dragging Luo Shuxin in and yelling, “Drip until he stops coughing.” It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.

Caught red-handed, Jiang Jian sneaked a glance at Luo Shuxin. Seeing his calm expression, he barely managed to keep from blushing.

After checking Luo Shuxin’s temperature and symptoms, the nurse concluded, “Just a mild cold. Not as bad as yours yesterday. You were burning up yesterday — tsk tsk. He’s got a strong body; he’ll be fine after taking his meds.”

Jiang Jian: “?”

What do you mean he’s got a strong body?

He compared silently. Sure, Luo Shuxin was a bit taller, but he looked thinner. And the guy studied till one or two every night! Who’s to say who had the better health?

The nurse sat back down to write some notes. “Just keep taking the same medicine from this morning. No need to waste more of your allowance.”

Luo Shuxin looked at Jiang Jian.

Jiang Jian, shamelessly: “That medicine was for me. What’s he supposed to take, then? Give him a new prescription.”

The nurse looked from one to the other, speechless. So what’s this? Two bros fighting but pretending to be strangers?

Luo Shuxin smoothly gave him an out. “No need, I’ve got medicine already.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Got medicine again?”

Completely straight-faced, Luo Shuxin said, “A nameless good Samaritan dropped off a bag this morning.”

Jiang Jian: “?”

I see how it is. You’re mocking me.

After their little performance, the two left the infirmary. But as soon as they reached the base of the teaching building, Luo Shuxin’s phone buzzed.

Luo Shuxin’s expression shifted slightly as he pulled out his phone and answered.

Jiang Jian: “?!”

He was more nervous than Luo Shuxin — scanning the area for teachers in case they got caught.

Luo Shuxin said, “Hello? Hello?” twice, but there was no response on the other end.

The air grew heavy; his brow furrowed visibly.

Jiang Jian hesitated, wondering if he should ask what was wrong, but Luo Shuxin shoved Shao Xing’s workbook into his hands. “Return this to Shao Xing for me. I need to go to the teachers’ office.”

And then he left.

He never came back.

Later, Xia Yiming passed on the news — she’d been in the class rep’s office helping collect homework and happened to overhear Luo Shuxin asking for leave.

“He sounded really anxious,” she said. “I left right after, so I didn’t hear what it was about — something to do with his mom, I think.”

Shao Xing groaned. “No way, he was just explaining a problem to me halfway… is he gonna finish it tomorrow?”

Xia Yiming said, “Ask His Highness, or maybe Gao Yihang.”

Gao Yihang — the top student.

Shao Xing shook his head. “His Highness always says he’s explained it before and goes off about my poor focus. And Gao skips steps when he teaches. Nope. I’ll wait for Luo-ge…”

Jiang Jian stayed quiet, pretending not to listen, but something inside him stirred.

Maybe because of his own mom’s situation — hearing that Luo Shuxin’s mom might be in trouble made his nerves twitch.

Part of him thought, That’s impossible — things like that don’t happen so often.
But part of him worried — what if it’s the same?

The unease lingered until the afternoon, when Shao Xing said Luo-ge had even written out the solution from memory and sent him a picture.

Shao Xing shouted dramatically, “From now on, I’m Luo-ge’s loyal servant! He’s gorgeous and he cares about my physics homework — a literal angel!”

Hearing that, Jiang Jian finally relaxed. If Luo Shuxin still had the mind to worry about Shao Xing’s homework, it couldn’t be serious.

Luo Shuxin didn’t return to school. That evening, the class rep sent his homework to someone in the same neighborhood.

It was Saturday — they had Sunday off. A rare treat for second-years, since third-years only got half a day.

But with ten-plus worksheets assigned, “day off” was a joke.

Jiang Jian went home, showered, napped, then started working seriously for a while. When he got tired, he began searching for answers online — only to find their class group chat already sharing them.

“You do English, I’ll do Chemistry. Swap when done.”

Even top students wanted to have some fun — with only one day off, they deserved a little break.

The day flew by. That night was the birthday party for Yin Xu and Yin Ying, at the New Times KTV. Jiang Jian had said he wouldn’t go, but of course, he showed up anyway.

He planned to drop off the gifts and leave quietly. But the moment he walked in, Xia Yiming and the others trapped him. The private room was chaos — Shao Xing, three drinks in, was slurring about “facial bone symmetry,” Yin Ying was butchering a song off-key, and Jiang Jian got dragged into dumb party games.

Given his track record of sneaking out early, everyone was keeping an eye on him — someone even accompanied him to the bathroom.

They partied until nearly eleven. Nobody had hard liquor, just beer and fruit drinks, but after hours of noise and heat, a few lightweight classmates were completely drunk.

When they finally stumbled out of New Times, Jiang Jian was a little tipsy too — but still clear-headed enough to help people get cabs, remember license plates, and even call parents for those he knew.

Once everyone else was gone, he was the only one left.

He’d been forced to drink a few rounds too, and though he was drunk, alcohol hit him slowly. His mind was still oddly clear, just a little hot and dizzy.

He didn’t want to go home yet, so he wandered down the street.

He’d forgotten to keep up his usual composed act — at first his steps were steady, confident.

After about half an hour, the alcohol caught up. His vision blurred; his steps grew uneven.

But he still thought he was fine. He sat down on the curb, pulled out his phone, and started scrolling for his driver, Uncle Wang’s, number.

At the top of his contacts list was “A-Yu.”

His mind went blank. He forgot why he’d opened his phone in the first place — and before he knew it, he’d pressed “Call.”

The dial tone droned in his ear — beep… beep…

It felt like a century before someone picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

A man’s voice.

Phone numbers get recycled after being canceled — after ninety days, they can be resold.

A wave of sourness hit Jiang Jian’s chest, flooding his whole body like a tide.

He didn’t hang up. He hugged his knees and listened to the man on the other end say “Hello?” twice more before hanging up.

He sat there on the roadside, a little ball of silence — like an abandoned curly-haired puppy.

He didn’t move.

Maybe two minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching — stopping right in front of him.

Jiang Jian waited, but the person didn’t leave.

He cautiously raised his head.

First, he saw white sneakers. Then denim jeans — long legs. And above them, a loose black hoodie.