Volume One, Chapter Twenty-Five: She forcibly embraced him—surely, that could be considered harassment.

On the night of her birthday, Xu Zhi and Yang Xue ended up sharing a cab back to school with Cheng Yu.

Along the way, Yang Xue chatted with Cheng Yu, who revealed that he had decided to join Liang Jinmo’s team.

Yang Xue’s eyes sparkled, and she suddenly asked, “Does Chairman Liang’s team need a translator?”

Cheng Yu paused. “I didn’t ask.”

Yang Xue rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll ask later. I added Zhou He on WeChat—he’s so enthusiastic, unlike someone else I know.”

Xu Zhi overheard and quickly interjected, “They do need translators. Liang Jinmo told me—they have business dealings with American companies that require it.”

“That’s perfect! I’m in!” Yang Xue was instantly energized, clinging to Xu Zhi’s arm. “Zhi, let’s go together! It’s the Liang Group, after all! The Liang Group!”

Xu Zhi knew very well that Yang Xue wanted to join because of Cheng Yu. She felt a little helpless. “You should ask Zhou He for details first. I might have other plans after graduation.”

Yang Xue asked, “What plans?”

Xu Zhi hesitated for a couple of seconds before admitting, “I… I’m thinking about studying abroad for my master’s.”

“Are you kidding? People who plan to go abroad have started preparing ages ago. If you start now, by the time you get there, the opportunity will be long gone.”

Xu Zhi was silent.

Yang Xue lowered her voice, leaning in close. “Besides… I noticed tonight, you, Zhou He, and Chairman Liang—there’s something unusual about the three of you…”

Xu Zhi quickly leaned away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Hmph. You sound awfully suspicious. Is this a love triangle?”

Xu Zhi wanted to roll her eyes. “How is that possible?!”

“Are you going to tell me or not? If not, I’ll annoy you to death!” Yang Xue started tickling her waist, and Xu Zhi, overwhelmed, squirmed around in the cramped back seat, calling for help.

“Cheng Yu, do something about Yang Xue!”

Cheng Yu glanced at Yang Xue. “Can you quiet down? You’re so loud.”

Yang Xue pouted at him. “I’m only listening to you because I want to spoil you, not because I’m afraid of you.”

Xu Zhi thought it was overly sentimental, but at least she was granted some peace; Yang Xue let the matter drop.

In truth, Xu Zhi dreaded any further questioning, because even she couldn’t explain her relationship with Liang Jinmo.

What had started as a tentative friendship had ended up with her impulsively hugging him, which bordered on harassment.

That night, back in the dormitory, Xu Zhi couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts drifted between Liang Muzhi and Liang Jinmo’s invitation.

“If, at any time, in anything, you had to choose between me and Liang Muzhi, would you always pick him?”

That question resurfaced in her mind.

On the surface, Liang Jinmo’s question seemed unfathomable, but she knew there was a reason for it.

Back when Xu Zhi was in her first year of middle school, Liang Jinmo was a high school freshman. Because of Fu Wanwen’s exclusion, he had already started living at school. Even during holidays, aside from picking up a few things, he rarely returned to the Liang family home.

One weekend, Xu Zhi was coming back from her Go class and ran into him on the villa district road.

He walked alone, exuding his usual cold and somber aura.

But Xu Zhi noticed something different about him that day.

His steps were unsteady, and a flush crept across his normally pale face.

She didn’t greet him—just followed a few paces behind, mind racing with guesses about why he’d come back.

Liang Jinmo stopped before reaching the house. He couldn’t go any further. Dizziness overtook him, and he clung to a tree trunk by the roadside, gasping for breath, his throat burning.

This was his third day with a fever. He’d taken medicine, but clearly, it wasn’t working.

Seeing his hunched figure, Xu Zhi forgot her own reservations and hurried up to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Only then did he notice her.

His gaze lacked its usual sharpness, replaced by weakness. He said nothing.

“Are you feeling sick?” Xu Zhi pressed. “Are you ill?”

Liang Jinmo lowered his head, ignoring her.

“I’ll help you,” Xu Zhi offered, reaching out.

The moment she touched his arm, he shifted aside, evading her.

“No need,” he replied coldly.

With that, he kept walking.

Xu Zhi thought, if it weren’t for his pitiful state, she wouldn’t bother helping him.

No one in the villa district would help him; everyone knew he was an illegitimate child. If Liang Muzhi’s clique saw him, they’d probably taunt him.

She didn’t want anyone to see her with him, either. As much as she felt guilty toward him, Liang Muzhi and Fu Wanwen’s feelings mattered more.

Frustrated, she trailed behind, watching his faltering figure, wondering how long he could keep up the façade.

When she reached her own house, she didn’t go in, instead quietly following him.

Then she saw Liang Jinmo rejected at the Liangs’ front door.

His fingerprint wouldn’t unlock the door. He tried the code—wrong. He rang the bell, hoping the housekeeper would open up remotely, but no one answered.

The household staff was always there; if no one opened the door, it could only mean they were deliberately ignoring him.

From a corner, Xu Zhi saw Liang Jinmo, drained, gripping the iron bars of the grand old gate, his body slowly sliding down.

She thought he was about to faint and rushed over to help.

But he didn’t pass out—he simply couldn’t stand anymore. His hands clung to the bars, forcing himself upright, but he lacked the strength to straighten.

Fu Wanwen had probably deleted his fingerprints. He had no idea. The servants refused to answer.

He knew they looked down on him.

His vision blurred and darkened; he could barely see.

“My parents aren’t home. Come sit in my yard,” a soft voice offered. “I’ll get you water and some medicine.”

He turned his face to see Xu Zhi, her hands hovering uncertainly in the air, as if she wanted to help but didn’t dare.

He remained silent, his breath shallow and rapid.

Xu Zhi steeled herself and slipped her arm through his. “Come on, you need to take your medicine.”

Liang Jinmo couldn’t resist. Supported by her, he made his way into her yard.

There was a flower arch in the garden. Xu Zhi settled him on a chair beneath it. “Wait here. This is my house, so don’t wander off,” she said.

Liang Jinmo was in no condition to wander.

Before long, Xu Zhi returned from the house with a cup of warm water and a bag.

She sat beside him, placed the water on the table, and took out an infrared thermometer, pressing it to his forehead.

Thirty-nine point two degrees.

“You have a high fever!” she exclaimed.

Liang Jinmo thought she was being dramatic, slumping over the table, his body weak.

Xu Zhi rummaged through the bag for fever medicine. “Take this first. Are you having a cold? I have cold medicine too—can you take it?”

Liang Jinmo ignored her.

At a loss, she pressed a tablet into his hand.

He wasn’t cooperating, and she hesitated.

At their age, some students were already in puppy love. In her mind, even touching fingers with a boy felt awkward. Seeing his clenched fist, she was reluctant to touch him.