Chapter 438: Volume 1_Chapter 438   Obsessive Professor Side Story (2)

Volume 1_Chapter 438   Obsessive Professor Side Story (2)

Filling out forms in the office, the work was dull and tedious, but for Jiang Zhi it was a decent job. She didn't have to deal with others, nor did she have to watch the boss's expressions.

Work ran from 9 a. m. to 7 p. m., with two days off each week. The pay wasn't much, but it was relatively easy.

For a whole week, on cold nights she saw a little boy waiting for her at the alley entrance; he looked about seven or eight, the age to be in school. It was still winter break, and his homework was still too light—otherwise he wouldn't have so much time to wait here for her.

"Are you cold?" Jiang Zhi walked over and saw his pallid, colorless face.

Snowflakes drifted down and covered his shoulders; his jet-black hair was dusted white, and he lifted those dark, lightless eyes to gaze at her calmly.

"Not cold." The boy's voice was hoarse, low and deep.

Jiang Zhi had told him many times not to come wait for her, but no matter what she said, the boy was stubborn and odd.

She took a scarf bought from a roadside accessory shop out of the paper bag and wrapped it around his neck, which could ease the chill a little.

"Tomorrow I have the day off, so don't wait for me."

Her days off weren't fixed; usually after other colleagues submitted their leave forms, the remaining workdays were her time off.

Tomorrow is Tuesday; the forecast says there will be a downpour, and the temperature will keep getting worse.

The boy's attention was caught by the scarf; he lowered his head to look at the off‑white scarf, soft and warm, wrapped around his neck, feeling very comfortable.

"Did you knit this?" he asked.

Jiang Zhi raised an eyebrow and smiled: "How could that be? I can't knit a scarf. I bought this at a store—how is it? Looks good, right?"

The boy lifted his head, looking at her orange‑yellow scarf, and said, "Yours looks better."

Jiang Zhi thought his gaze was off: "I bought this scarf two years ago—where is it nice?"

The usually quiet and obedient boy suddenly snatched the scarf away, saying, "I want yours."

Jiang Zhi, speechless, complied, undoing her own scarf and wrapping it around his neck: "Is this okay now?"

He nodded.

He pulled a bill from his pocket, ran to a nearby pancake stall, and bought two pickled mustard greens pancakes.

Then he walked to her side and handed her one.

"Where did you get the money?" Jiang Zhi asked, puzzled.

The boy shoved the pancake into her hand without a word and said, "I earned it."

Jiang Zhi looked at his 'little adult' expression and chuckled, "You've got this talent, huh."

The boy tilted his chin slightly, giving a noncommittal nod.

They walked all the way back home.

The boy's house was just across an alley from hers, not far away.

After Jiang Zhi saw him home, she waved her hand and reminded him again: "Don't wait for me tomorrow."

The boy stopped in his tracks: "Can I come find you?"

Jiang Zhi didn't think much: "If your parents agree, then come."

Besides, she lived alone, so looking after a little kid wasn't a problem.

The boy said okay, turned, and ran off.

His tiny silhouette soon vanished into the night.

In front of the old two‑story house, thick snow piled up, untouched.

Huo Yin walked to the corner of the wall, picked up a shovel, and came out.

He bent over, his short arms gripping the iron shovel's handle with practiced ease, then cleared the snow at the doorway.

When Huo's father staggered over, he saw this scene.

He furrowed his brows harshly, then lifted his foot and kicked the boy in the back.

Huo Yin had been ready and dodged the kick.

Huo's father, seeing this, grabbed him by the collar, his breath reeking of liquor: "You little bastard, who let you come out to shovel snow? Get lost inside! If I see you shoveling snow again, I'll bury you in the snow—did you hear me?"

His large hand clenched the scarf tightly; the boy panicked, letting go of the iron shovel, his legs kicking in the air as he stretched his short arms to try to wrest the scarf from his grip.

Huo's father loosened his grip, threw him to the ground, and swaggered into the house.

The boy, fallen on the ground, first checked the scarf around his neck; seeing it was only a bit wrinkled and dusted with snow, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He carefully tucked the scarf into his bosom, then picked up the shovel and kept shoveling snow.

Only after he had cleared all the snow from the doorway did he go inside.

The house was damp and chilly; a few weak streaks of streetlight filtered through the window, dispelling some of the gloom.

He walked to the bedroom door and saw his father sprawled on the bed, sleeping spread‑eagle. His mother huddled in a corner, nervously twitching her fingers; the inside and outside of the house were deathly quiet, like a graveyard.

The boy, accustomed to this, went to the wardrobe and closed the door.

Lying among the piles of clothes in the wardrobe, he clutched the scarf in his arms and gradually fell asleep.

In the early morning, the snowfall had not lessened; it grew ever heavier.

His mother had not slept all night; only after his father left did she finally drift off.

The boy slipped out of the wardrobe quietly, folded the clothes inside, then went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

After eating breakfast, he put the breakfast he had made for his mother into the rice cooker to keep warm.

The doorway he had shoveled the night before was again piled deep with snow; he held up an umbrella, the snow reaching past his legs, yet he still trudged forward with difficulty toward his destination.

Only when he stood in the hallway of an old building, thoroughly brushing the snow from his clothes and neatly arranging the scarf around his neck, did he lift his foot to go upstairs.

He stopped in front of a door on the fifth floor, straining up on his tiptoes to press the doorbell.

Jiang Zhi, deep in sleep, heard the doorbell ring, groggily woke up, slipped on her slippers, and stumbled to the door, "Who is it?"

So early, who would come looking for her?

When she opened the door, she saw the little boy bouncing up and down before her.

His cheeks were flushed, sweat beading on his forehead, he panted.

Obviously, he had been pressing the doorbell for a long time.

Because he was too short, the little boy couldn't reach the doorbell even on tiptoe, so he had to jump to press it.

Jiang Zhi exclaimed in surprise, "You came so early!"

Before coming to open the door, she checked the time; it was still 7:30 a. m.

The little boy tidied his somewhat messy clothes and hair, steadied his breathing, and said, "It's not early."

Jiang Zhi yawned repeatedly, tears welling at the corners of her eyes, her gaze unintentionally falling on his legs, which were soaked through.

"Did you fall into a puddle?" she said, her sleepiness gone as she squatted to look at his pants.

The little boy stepped back, avoiding her gaze, his expression showing a bit of embarrassment: "No."

Jiang Zhi got up and pulled him inside.

She picked out a few slightly small pants and handed them to him: "Change into these; wearing wet clothes in midwinter will make you sick."

The little boy remained motionless.

Seeing this, Jiang Zhi joked, "Do you still want me to help you change?"

The little boy shook his head, his ears visibly red: "Don't look."

Jiang Zhi couldn't help laughing, "You even know how to be shy!"

The little boy's cheeks were now completely red.

She stopped teasing him and went to the bathroom.

After she finished washing up and came out, she saw the little boy, having changed his pants, standing in the same spot, motionless like a statue.

"What are you doing standing there like an idiot?" she asked as she walked over.

The little boy lifted a bag of breakfast and handed it to her.

Jiang Zhi was surprised: "You bought this for me?"

The little boy nodded: "Yeah."

Jiang Zhi crouched down, instinctively pinching his cheeks, smiling: "Wow, Xiao Yin, you're really nice to me!"

The little boy had never been this close to anyone before; he froze in place, his expression dazed and silly.

After a moment, he reacted, flustered and uneasy, dodging her fingers, his dark eyes flickering.