Chapter 19

After hanging up, Weng Shao lay back down without a word. He stared wide-eyed at the ceiling overhead, and before he knew it, dawn had broken.

In a daze, Weng Shao received calls from the admissions offices of several more universities.

In the single dorm room, so quiet one could hear a pin drop, the crisp ringtone of his phone kept going off. Weng Shao failed to sleep well that night, and by the next morning, he—who had not been sick in years—came down with a high fever.

He lay muddleheaded beneath the covers, drenched in cold sweat from the fever, yet he did not even realize he was ill. He only felt uncomfortable all over, an aching soreness seeping through his pores and into the cracks of his bones.

It was as though he had fallen into another layer of nightmare. In the dream, time sped backward, and he found himself in a cold, dark morgue, looking down at Pei Xingze's sleeping shell. The healthy, taut skin he remembered had turned pale and lifeless beneath the white glare of the overhead lights. The once-warm body had been chilled icy cold by the air-conditioning. Weng Shao reached out and tightly held Pei Xingze's hand, but no matter what he did, he could not warm it.

Someone beside him urged him to accept his loss. Weng Shao could not understand. What was there for him to accept?

Weng Shao closed his eyes, and Pei Xingze's shell disappeared. Yet from the darkness hatched countless hideous, terrifying ghosts with bluish mouths and fangs. They wore the faces of Weng Yingjie, Weng Zhen, Weng Sui, Zhou Shujing, and many others. Those faces howled and charged at him, opening their bloody maws at the instant they drew near and viciously tearing at his soul.

Weng Shao knew he was trapped in a nightmare, but he could not wake up no matter how hard he tried.

Not until someone pounded on the dorm door with a series of loud knocks. After receiving no response for a long time, Pei Xingze kicked the door open and hauled the soaked Weng Shao out of his damp bedding.

"You have a fever. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Hearing the voice by his ear, Weng Shao forced his eyes open. The pale corpse from his nightmare had become the living person before him. He could even hear the dead man speaking, just as he had on countless quiet nights and bright days.

Held in Pei Xingze's arms, Weng Shao barely needed to exert any effort to touch Pei Xingze's chest. Warm skin encased a heart that beat steadily beneath it.

"It's warm," Weng Shao murmured.

Pei Xingze did not catch what Weng Shao had said and assumed the fever had muddled his mind. Catching Weng Shao's restless hand, he answered every word patiently. "Don't worry. We're going to the hospital right now."

He scooped Weng Shao up and rushed out of the dormitory. The black Rolls-Royce Phantom shot through the empty, silent morning streets like an arrow and reached the hospital at top speed.

When Weng Shao opened his eyes again, it was already afternoon.

Bright sunlight streamed through the window into the ward, driving away all the gloom lurking in the darkness. No matter how unforgettable the hatred and regret, they obediently hid themselves away in the quietly flowing blood vessels at that moment.

Weng Shao glanced at the IV bottle hanging above him. Sunlight shone through the glass, refracting a dazzling halo. The clear medicine flowed through the tube into his veins, leaving the back of his hand cold.

"You're awake." Pei Xingze, who had been sitting at the bedside the whole time, let out a sigh of relief. He reached over to touch Weng Shao's forehead and said with a smile, "Your fever's gone."

Before Weng Shao could speak, he added teasingly, "Don't worry. The doctor said we got here in time, so your clever little brain won't be fried. My top scholar."

Top scholar?

Weng Shao raised an eyebrow slightly.

Pei Xingze explained, "The National College Entrance Examination results are out. You scored 698 points—the top scorer in the province."

Weng Shao let out a soft breath. He knew he had done well, but he had not known he had done this well.

"Congratulations." Pei Xingze gave a light round of applause. As he rose to pour Weng Shao a cup of warm water to soothe his throat, he said with a smile, "You did so well. As your boss and sponsor, I share in the glory. I think your achievement deserves a reward."

He pretended to think for a moment before saying, "How about a reward of one hundred thousand yuan?"

A hint of amusement welled up in Weng Shao's dark, deep eyes. "My boss certainly is generous."

"It's one of my few virtues," Pei Xingze replied with impeccable politeness.

Weng Shao shook his head, clearly disagreeing. "In my eyes, President Pei is absolutely the most perfect person in the world."

Pei Xingze laughed, unsurprised at being amused. "Only you would think that." Plenty of people wanted to skin him alive and devour his flesh.

Weng Shao asked, "Isn't having me enough?"

Pei Xingze burst into helpless laughter and raised a hand in surrender. "Enough, of course it's enough. To have one true friend in life is enough."

Weng Shao quietly watched the carefree, cynical Pei Xingze before him, but what came to mind was the scene of this man smashing open his door and dragging him from the nightmare without hesitation.

He blinked weakly, thinking that humans really were the strangest creatures in the world. They were certain they would never step into the same river twice, yet at different times, they could fall in love with the same person again and again.

Author's Note:

Chapter 19

Toward evening, Teacher Chen, having learned that Weng Shao had suddenly developed a fever, came to visit him in the hospital. She brought a bouquet of fresh lilies. Crystal-clear droplets trembled precariously on the stamens as she walked, while their refreshing fragrance spread through the air.

"Congratulations on becoming the province's top scorer in the National College Entrance Examination." Teacher Chen placed the lilies into the glass vase on the bedside table and said with a beaming smile, "I'm very happy for you. Your results have repaid all your years of hard work. You are the pride of all of us, and you should be proud of yourself too."

Weng Shao smiled softly at that. A faint smile appeared on his pale, jade-like face, like a breeze brushing across still water and suddenly stirring a ripple.

Perhaps because he had been malnourished since childhood, Weng Shao's lips had always lacked color. Yet now, with his fever having only just broken, they carried an extra touch of vivid red. Framed by his black hair and deep eyes, he looked like a smear of rouge accidentally brushed onto mutton-fat jade—whiter white, blacker black, redder red.

His expression remained calm, and his entire body radiated the weakness of someone recovering from a serious illness. Only his two dark eyes shone with startling brightness. As his gaze shifted, they brimmed with ambition and certainty, like two vigorously burning flames. Against them, the black pupils in his snow-white face seemed even more brilliant than cold stars in the night sky.

"How did the other students do?" Weng Shao asked, though the question had nothing to do with himself.

Teacher Chen's smile deepened. "They all performed beyond expectations."

After a pause, Teacher Chen added, "I think it is all thanks to your study notes and review methods."

"Weng Shao, you did not just change your own life. You changed the lives of most of your classmates as well. You gave them the chance to attend better schools and step onto broader platforms."

Teacher Chen could not help feeling stirred as she spoke. She shared another piece of good news with Weng Shao. "Your study notes have officially been published. The publisher has formally named the collection Top Scholar Notes. The first edition has printed five thousand sets, with six volumes in each set—"

"Not enough." Pei Xingze, who had been quietly peeling an apple on the sofa, suddenly spoke. He cut the freshly peeled apple into pieces, speared them with small forks, and handed them separately to Weng Shao and Teacher Chen. Smiling, he said, "Five thousand sets isn't enough. At least one hundred thousand."

By then, the sky had already darkened. The setting sun was blood-red, and Pei Xingze's outline was swallowed by the dimming twilight, making him difficult to see clearly. Teacher Chen opened her mouth, about to say something, when a burst of noise suddenly came from the hallway outside.

Before long, there was a knock on the door, and several heads cautiously peeked around it. "Excuse me, is Weng Shao here—"

Before they could finish, they spotted Weng Shao and Teacher Chen in the ward at once.

"Teacher Chen, you're here too?"

"Weng Shao, we came to see you!"

"How did you get sick?"

A group of people filed into the room. Leading them were Weng Shao's roommates, Zhang Chang, Zhou Mingjing, and Jiang Rui, followed by students from Class One, Senior Year Three. There were over twenty of them in all, and within moments, they had packed the spacious private ward full.

Zhang Chang and Jiang Rui placed the flowers and fruit baskets in their hands on the coffee table. Zhou Mingjing said excitedly, "We even saw reporters downstairs. They seemed to be here to interview you, the top scorer in the National College Entrance Examination."

Weng Shao lifted his eyes toward Pei Xingze. Someone wanted to interview him? How had he not known?

Pei Xingze answered succinctly, "You're sick."

The implication was that he would not allow reporters to disturb a patient at a time like this.

Pei Xingze thought, Who knew who had sent those reporters, or whose money they had taken under the table? I'm not Zhou Bapi. How could I let a patient whose fever had only just broken accept an interview from the media?

Though he never doubted Weng Shao's intelligence or eloquence, he was not the kind of heartless boss who exploited sick employees, okay?

Weng Shao had been calculating how he should act before the cameras if the reporters came, so as to ensure the greatest possible benefit. When he looked up, he saw Young Master Pei's composed face, which somehow still carried a trace of grievance.

Weng Shao: "..."

Noticing Pei Xingze's hidden little emotions beneath that elite exterior, Weng Shao smiled gently and said unhurriedly, "Thank you, President Pei. I actually do not want to face reporters at a time like this either. I'm afraid my mind won't be working fast enough, and they'll take advantage of me."

Before Pei Xingze could say anything, Weng Shao's classmates spoke indignantly. "You're right not to accept their interview. Who knows what questions those reporters might ask? What if they were sent by your biological father?"

"You're sick right now. How could you possibly have the energy to trade words with them?"

Pei Xingze immediately felt as refreshed and satisfied as if he had downed a huge barrel of ice-cold beer in the middle of summer.

With a solemn expression, he walked steadily to the bedside, picked up the remote, and slowly raised the bed so Weng Shao could lean back more comfortably. Then he had the caregiver bring drinks for the young guests who had been talking too much. "There's everything in the fridge. Help yourselves to whatever you want."