Chapter 88: The Two Beauties Meet (Request Subscription!)

Medical room.

The doctor hung three IV bags on the stand, then asked Li Heng:

“Left hand or right hand? How about the left? That way it’ll be easier for you to go to the bathroom later.”

Li Heng extended his left hand as instructed.

The doctor gestured for him to clench his fist, making the veins stand out, then said:

“You look well-fed, but why are your hands so dry and bony? With the college entrance exam coming up, you really need to eat better.”

Li Heng had no energy left, merely nodded mechanically, then closed his eyes.

Seeing this, the doctor told Song Yu beside him: “When the first bag is nearly finished, call me. And if anything seems off with him, notify me immediately. I’m going to get an ice pack.”

Song Yu said okay.

The doctor left, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Because of her dream-muttered words—“Song Yu, I love you, marry me”—she had initially felt uneasy, but as she saw him keep his eyes shut, she gradually relaxed.

She turned her head and quietly studied him.

Three unrelated images suddenly flashed in her mind:

The first: when Chen Zijin was still at No. 1 High, him secretly dating Chen Zijin.

Zijin seemed to adore him; whenever they were alone, her favorite thing to do was feed him food.

Like peeling an orange, removing the white pith, placing each segment into his mouth, and sometimes, playfully biting half herself before offering the rest to him.

The second image: him telling her he was “December,” the author of *To Live*, and how he often flipped through newspapers at his desk.

Unconsciously influenced by him, she’d sometimes pick up her father’s discarded newspapers at home, specifically searching for news articles about *To Live*.

The third image involved her.

Song Yu was not slow-witted; on the contrary, she was highly perceptive of her surroundings, which had made her vaguely sense in first year that Li Heng looked at her differently.

But back then, she hadn’t cared.

Because since childhood, she’d seen so many such admiring glances that she’d grown used to them.

But this semester, he changed drastically—he became bolder, dared to meet her gaze directly, dared to look at her openly, even dared to hold her hand. And he dared to openly admit in front of Mai Sui and Sun Man that he liked her.

It left her flustered.

She didn’t know why she was staying to keep him company.

Yet somehow, she’d stayed.

Thinking of this, Song Yu brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with her right hand, then asked after a long silence: “You didn’t eat lunch. Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

There was no reply. Li Heng didn’t answer.

“Li Heng?” Song Yu raised her voice slightly.

Li Heng still slept on.

Song Yu froze.

The next second, she reached out and checked his breath, then felt his pulse with her right hand. Seeing everything normal, she quietly exhaled in relief.

She watched him quietly for a while longer, thinking the IV fluid was cold and fearing he’d catch a chill, so she got up, fetched a thin square cotton blanket from the cabinet, and draped it over him.

These blankets were standard equipment in the medical room—used in winter to keep patients warm during IV infusions.

A while later, the doctor returned with an ice pack and a towel, placing it on his forehead.

The doctor checked his condition again, then suddenly asked Song Yu: “Are you two dating?”

Song Yu shook her head Dandan ly.

The doctor glanced at her, then at Li Heng, and teased: “But you two look quite compatible.”

The doctor was experienced and sharp-eyed—he knew their relationship wasn’t as clear-cut as it seemed, so he added the remark out of curiosity.

Song Yu smiled politely but stayed silent.

As the fluid entered his body, Li Heng fell asleep again.

During this time, he felt someone tucking him in; half-asleep, he mistook her for his wife, instinctively grabbing her hand and pressing it to his abdomen, shifting slightly before sinking back into sweet sleep.

His effortless grip nearly broke Song Yu. She stood frozen in place.

In her entire life, this was only the second time a member of the opposite sex had touched her hand—and it was the same person both times.

She instinctively tried to pull away, but after several attempts yielded no result, she carefully studied the man’s facial expression.

The subtle twitch of his eyelashes.

The steady rhythm of his breathing.

After confirming for two full minutes that he was truly asleep, truly unconscious, she took a deep breath, leaned slightly toward him to avoid waking him, let her left hand remain in his grip, and to mask her inner turmoil, picked up a copy of *Story Weekly* from the nearby chair and began reading.

But while reading, she’d occasionally lift her head to check how much IV fluid remained.

Then she’d glance at him beside her, and if he showed no signs of distress, she’d return to her reading.

At first, she found it extremely uncomfortable, even awkward—but as time passed, her mind gradually calmed. She stopped overthinking it, simply staying with him naturally.

About half an hour passed—perhaps half an hour—since the IV was slow, the first bag wasn’t finished yet when Mai Sui arrived, carrying two insulated lunch boxes.

Zhang Zhiyong, outside the door, saw her and hesitated, wanting to greet her but naturally intimidated by beautiful girls, especially one with such excellent grades. In the end, he just scratched his head and gave a nervous smile, deciding against speaking.

Mai Sui smiled back at him, then entered the room.

Hearing footsteps at the door, Song Yu instinctively pulled her left hand again—too late. Mai Sui, half-inside the room, had already seen.

Their eyes met. The world seemed to freeze.

After several seconds of shock, Mai Sui glanced again at their clasped hands, then silently withdrew, stepping out of the room.

After about a minute, Mai Sui’s soft, charming voice came from the doorway: “Song Yu, may I come in?”

Song Yu softly murmured, “Mm.”

Mai Sui entered and, seeing their hands still intertwined, showed clear astonishment.

Song Yu calmly said: “He’s gripping too tightly. I can’t pull free.”

Mai Sui sat beside her, observed Li Heng for a moment, then said: “It seems this is his subconscious behavior. You’ve truly reached his heart—he feels deeply safe with you.”

Song Yu fell silent, unsure how to respond.

After a long while, she asked: “Where are Sun Man and Chen Lijun?”

Mai Sui replied: “I came ahead with the food. They’re together at the restroom—they should be here soon.”

Hearing this, Song Yu set aside *Story Weekly* and pulled her left hand with force.

As expected, her tug woke Li Heng slightly.

Half-open eyes, he saw Song Yu and Mai Sui both staring at him, and weakly asked: “What time is it?”

Song Yu glanced at the alarm clock on the wall behind him. “1:04.”

Then she asked: “Are you hungry? Want something to eat? Mai Sui brought food.”

Li Heng drooped his eyelids. “Not hungry. No appetite.”

Then he added: “Why don’t you eat first? I’ll watch you eat—maybe watching will make me hungry.”

Song Yu understood his meaning perfectly. She smiled gently, like orchids blooming, and didn’t refuse—she took the lunch box from Mai Sui, opened it, and began eating quietly.

No wonder—it was Sun Man’s 18th birthday banquet. The dishes were lavish: chicken, meat, fish, plus two vegetable sides, garnished with red and green peppers, perfectly balanced and looking delicious.

Mai Sui, who had held back earlier, finally spoke: “How are you feeling now?”

Li Heng shook his head. “No difference.”

The doctor entered, chiming in: “It won’t be this fast. You’ll start to cool down only after the second bag is halfway through.”

Li Heng asked: “Doctor, the IV drip is too slow. Can I speed it up?”

The doctor considered, adjusted the flow rate, and warned: “You’re off this afternoon anyway. Don’t rush—it’s safer to take your time.”

Sun Man and Chen Lijun arrived. Neither noticed the earlier tension, and they chatted warmly with everyone.

When the second IV bag was halfway done, as the doctor predicted, Li Heng’s complexion visibly improved—he grew more alert, regained some strength.

Then Sun Man suddenly asked: “Li Heng, did you dream while sleeping in class today?”

Li Heng was stunned. Under the girls’ stares, he slowly nodded.

Sun Man immediately perked up: “Tell us—what did you dream about?”

Li Heng thought for a moment, then asked: “Did I talk in my sleep?”

The three girls exchanged silent glances, staring at him with unmistakable curiosity.

Song Yu was the exception—she was Ditou , tidying up the leftovers, wrapping chicken bones and fish bones in paper to throw away.

Li Heng ventured hesitantly: “Did I really say something?”

Chen Lijun prompted from beside him: “It was about Song Yu.”

“Oh, if it was about her, then it wasn’t nonsense.” Li Heng immediately corrected himself.

Though he didn’t know exactly what he’d said, the girls’ expressions gave him a good idea.

But since he’d already said it, and he’d never hidden his feelings for Song Yu in front of them, there was no point pretending now.

Whatever he’d said—he owned it.

Hearing this unpolished yet utterly sincere remark, Sun Man, Chen Lijun, and Mai Sui burst into laughter.

Song Yu looked at him steadily, then rose and went outside to dispose of the trash and wash the lunch box.

At that moment, a voice came from outside—Yang Ying’s voice.

“Oh! Zhang Zhiyong, why are you sitting outside the medical room?”

Yang Ying, just back from shopping with Xiao Han, passed through the reception area and spotted Zhang Zhiyong. Out of habit, she asked.

Zhang Zhiyong didn’t think—he blurted out: “Li Heng has a high fever. I’m keeping watch.”

Hearing this, Xiao Han, who had been walking toward the girls’ dormitory, stopped and turned to look. “High fever? How high?”

Seeing Xiao Han, Zhang Zhiyong finally realized: wasn’t Li Heng fond of both Song Yu and Xiao Han?

Damn it! Song Yu is right inside—what do I do now?

No wonder he’s called Absent-Minded—he never gets the nickname wrong. After causing this mess, he had no idea what to do, only stared helplessly as Xiao Han entered the infirmary.

When the door opened and someone came in, the girls inside chatting turned their heads.

Then the room fell utterly silent.

Seeing Mai Sui, Sun Manning, and Chen Lijun sitting so close to Honey, Xiao Han felt a strange pang of jealousy. You’re just running a fever—why act like the emperor choosing concubines? So many beauties surrounding you—can you even handle it? Should I kick them all out?

Under the gaze of the three girls, Xiao Han knew she couldn’t retreat or show weakness. She walked over, feigning calm.

She asked brightly: “I heard you have a fever?”

Mai Sui and the others had never heard Xiao Han speak like this before—they were stunned.

Li Heng murmured: “I’m getting an IV right now.”

Xiao Han glanced at the IV bag, suppressed her concern, and teased: “Can I touch your forehead?”

Li Heng nodded. Even though he knew the girl was subtly provoking him, he wouldn’t refuse: “Go ahead—one yuan per touch.”

Xiao Han smiled sweetly, bent down, and pressed her right hand against his forehead. After a moment, she asked: “What do you want to eat?”

Li Heng hadn’t answered yet.

Or rather, before he could reply, Xiao Han had already turned her head toward Song Yu, who had just returned with the washed lunchbox.

The moment Song Yu appeared, a strange atmosphere began to flow through the room.

Though Mai Sui and the others still didn’t understand the situation, seeing the school’s two most beautiful girls staring at each other, they felt something was off.

After a long silence, Xiao Han broke it first—but with a bombshell: “Thank you for taking care of Li Heng.”

Thank you?

Why say thank you?

From what standpoint?

As his girlfriend?

Or as a classmate or friend?

This phrase could attack or retreat at will, shifting identity at any moment.

Worse, Xiao Han was waging psychological warfare. She knew someone watched Song Yu like a cat watching a mouse—but she couldn’t tell what Song Yu’s feelings toward him were.

So, of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, attacking the mind was best.

If Song Yu cared for Li Heng, these words would burn in her ears—loaded with meaning.

If Song Yu didn’t care, it was just a polite, ordinary thanks—courteous, as a classmate or friend.

Her goal was simple: to test Song Yu’s true feelings toward Li Heng.

Over the past three years, Song Yu had heard Xiao Han’s name many times, and knew many gossipers at school called them the “Two Stunning Beauties.”

Because Chen Zijin had once told her about Xiao Han’s secret crush on Li Heng, Song Yu understood the hidden meaning behind Xiao Han’s words.

But she hadn’t reached the point of jealousy or rivalry over Li Heng. She simply nodded calmly: “No need to thank me.”

A light, effortless “no need to thank me” deflected every subtle maneuver. Yet Xiao Han felt no disappointment—instead, her eyes crinkled as she told Li Heng: “I’ll go buy you orange canned fruit.”

When he had a fever before, Chen Zijin always bought him this.

She was copying—imitating, step by step.

Li Heng didn’t refuse. He accepted easily: “Alright.” After Xiao Han left, he turned to Song Yu and said: “I saw you eating just now—I’m hungry. Give me your food. I’ll eat some first.”

Hearing this, Song Yu picked up another lunchbox, sat back in her previous seat, lifted the lid, and placed it before him.

Li Heng smiled and said: “Thank you.”

Song Yu smiled back: “No need to thank me.”

She had said “no need to thank me” twice now—but her feelings were different.

Li Heng’s simple move had dissolved all potential tension like spring rain—leaving Song Yu feeling unusually at ease.

Without comparison, there’s no hurt. Without Xiao Han’s earlier words, Song Yu wouldn’t have noticed anything special in Li Heng’s “thank you.” But now she did. Though she still couldn’t name the vague, indescribable feeling.

Turning disadvantage into advantage—this was second nature to Li Heng, who had lived two lives. Without this skill, he’d never dare take on such a delicate task.

PS: Requesting monthly tickets! Requesting subscriptions!

(End of chapter)