Volume One, Chapter 31 When she breathed life into him, her mind went completely blank.

Xu Zhi had learned to swim at an early age, but she could hardly be called a strong swimmer. However, the artificial lake had entered its low-temperature period and was no longer being filled, so the water was actually less than three meters deep, and underwater visibility was quite good—she spotted Liang Jinmo at a glance.

Her memory of what happened next was blurred; she did not know how she managed to swim over or how long it took. She was not particularly strong, yet somehow, by sheer force, pulling and dragging, she managed to haul him back to shore.

Summoning every last ounce of strength, she shoved him up onto the bank. The lake water was icy, yet she felt nothing, her mind blank, heart pounding violently. Scrambling onto the shore, she looked around and called again for help.

But the park was deserted at this hour, and the attendant was nowhere to be found.

Xu Zhi looked down at Liang Jinmo, who lay there unresponsive. Recalling the emergency life-saving course she’d once taken, she began to press down hard on his chest.

After a dozen compressions with no response, she pried open his mouth and leaned in to give him artificial respiration.

His lips were cold as ice. As she breathed air into him, her mind was empty—she had no thought for propriety or embarrassment.

She repeated the cycle over and over, not knowing how many times, until at last Liang Jinmo’s shoulder jerked, he coughed harshly, and spat out a mouthful of water.

Xu Zhi sat numbly where she was, frightened out of her wits. Her back was slick and cold—she couldn’t tell whether it was lake water or sweat from fear.

Liang Jinmo was still coughing, but she couldn’t take it anymore, and struck him on the chest with her fist.

“Are you insane?!” she shouted, then collapsed onto his chest and began to sob.

She could not stop crying.

Liang Jinmo coughed for a long time before he caught his breath. He didn’t move; his clothes were soaked, the ground was freezing, but he felt none of it.

All he could sense was a faint warmth—the heat of Xu Zhi’s tears, seeping through his damp clothes, scalding his heart.

“Don’t be like this…” she choked out between sobs, “My parents don’t like me much, either… but still… as long as you’re alive, good things can happen. One day, you’ll meet people who care about you, who like you; you’ll make friends, you might even get married and have children of your own…”

Her throat felt stuffed with cotton. “Whatever the future brings, you have to live to see it…”

She clutched his collar, wrinkling it, “Don’t scare me like that again… Liang Jinmo, I know things are bad for you now, but they’ll get better, I promise, just believe me, just hold on a little longer, please… just a little longer, for my sake…”

Liang Jinmo lay there quietly, staring straight up at the sky. His thoughts were chaotic, but one realization dawned on him.

So someone could cry for him, after all—even if perhaps it was just out of fright.

As for the future Xu Zhi had painted, did he believe such a thing could exist? He did not.

Jumping in had been a sudden impulse, a thought that struck him as he crossed the bridge. Most of the time, he had no attachment to life, no longing for death; he simply found living unbearably tedious.

He had never expected anyone to save him, or that she would follow him all that distance.

At the end of that day, once Xu Zhi had calmed down and could no longer bear the cold, she ran to find the park attendant. She dragged Liang Jinmo with her, and they clung to the radiator in the attendant’s office, refusing to let go.

The attendant scolded them roundly, “You kids were told not to go in the water! Still you play around! Not afraid of drowning?”

Xu Zhi, feeling a bit aggrieved, mumbled an apology.

Liang Jinmo tried to move away from her, but she gripped his arm and pinned him to a small stool by the heater. “Warm up, or you’ll catch cold.”

Afterward…

Liang Jinmo didn’t catch a cold—Xu Zhi did.

It lasted over half a month, a fever that came and went.

Liang Jinmo learned of it only because, one day, he happened to overhear Zhao Nianqiao chatting with another woman at the entrance to their housing complex, mentioning Xu Zhi.

He felt nothing at the time, but when he returned to his quiet apartment, he stood by the window and gazed for a long while at the second floor of the neighboring house.

He knew which window was Xu Zhi’s. All of a sudden, he felt the urge to go see her.

But he could not.

Every time Xu Zhi saw him, it was as if she were a thief—he knew she didn’t want anyone to know she had anything to do with him.

Especially not Liang Muzhi.

Liang Muzhi and she had a laughable childhood engagement. Leaning by the window, he lit a cigarette. There was no one in this apartment. He was eighteen now—he could smoke as he pleased.

He thought, perhaps she still dreamed of marrying Liang Muzhi.

The notion irritated him for no reason at all. The idea of seeing her was promptly thrown aside.

Liang Group Headquarters.

Yesterday, Liang Jinmo had submitted a proposal to Liang Zhenguo about formally establishing an artificial intelligence research division. By midday today, Liang Zhenguo had already approved it.

Ever since he brought his team to Liang Group two years ago, every major project he led had become an industry benchmark. No one questioned his vision or ability. A month earlier, he had officially become Director of the Product Department through an internal competition.

But outside of work, gossip about him was inevitable, given his special status.

Although he was the Liang family’s illegitimate son, Liang Zhenguo treated him like any other subordinate: neither harsh nor kind.

When Zhou He came looking for Liang Jinmo, he just happened to overhear two administrators whispering in the elevator lobby.

“I saw Mr. Liang downstairs last time. When I greeted him, he smiled at me—seemed so kind. But whenever he sees Young Mr. Liang, his face goes cold. Who treats their own son like that?”

“Exactly, that’s how it is in these wealthy families—no warmth at all. If Young Mr. Liang didn’t have all those abilities, who knows, maybe his own father would have thrown him out…”

Zhou He cleared his throat loudly.

The two administrators fell silent at once, awkwardly greeted him, and hurried away.

Zhou He knocked, then entered Liang Jinmo’s office. “You really ought to replace the administrators on this floor—their mouths run too much.”

Liang Jinmo replied, “Administration isn’t under me.”

Zhou He sat down across the desk. “I heard Mr. Liang approved our AI research division?”

Liang Jinmo handed him the document without a word.

After reading, Zhou He looked pleased. “Then I’ll start recruiting. Cheng Yu and the other programmers are already lined up. Xu Zhi’s friend—Yang Xue—said she wants to join, and I have her résumé. What about Xu Zhi? Have you asked her?”

Liang Jinmo’s eyes lowered slightly. “She might not come.”

Zhou He put the document on the table. “This afternoon, something suddenly struck me.”

Liang Jinmo glanced up at him.

“I was wondering why Xu Zhi looked so familiar. Then I remembered where I’d seen her before.” Zhou He’s lips curled. “Back in America, you had a photo of her in your wallet.”

Liang Jinmo fixed him with a chilly stare.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, it makes me feel guilty…” Zhou He grinned. “Relax, I’m not a blabbermouth.”

Liang Jinmo: “Are you sure?”

“I’m really not chatty!” Zhou He insisted. “I talk a lot, sure, but I know what’s appropriate and what isn’t. We’ve been friends for years—don’t you trust me?”

Liang Jinmo: “No.”

Zhou He: “…”

He said, “You’ve wounded me. Compensate me for my emotional distress—give me a few extra days off…”

Liang Jinmo’s phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and saw, on the lock screen, a new message from Xu Zhi. Instantly, he unlocked it and opened the message.

Xu Zhi had written: What does it feel like to jump?