RHITICSG 10

Chapter 10

Jiang Jian’s gloomy mood followed him all the way home.

To distract himself, he opened a game — but before he could even finish one round, a video call popped up.

The contact name didn’t have any nickname, just one plain word: “Cousin.”

Jiang Jian hesitated for less than a second before quitting the game — ditching his teammates without remorse — and answered the call.

On the screen appeared a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking refined and mild-mannered. When he saw Jiang Jian’s face, he smiled instinctively.

“Still staying up all night again? Your face looks terrible.”

After a full day of fighting a bad cold, of course Jiang Jian didn’t look great.

He rubbed his face, ignoring the comment, and asked bluntly, “What’s up?”

“Your San Tu jie-jie texted you yesterday. You didn’t reply. She thought you were upset with her, so she asked me to check.”

“San Tu jie-jie” referred to Mi Yao, the private tutor Jiang Jian had during the weeks he was home recovering from his leg injury — and also this cousin’s girlfriend.

Cousin’s name was Yu Qingze.
He was living abroad and in a long-distance relationship with his girlfriend.

The two had started dating in high school and had always been close. Now, one of them was studying for a graduate degree overseas, and the other—because of family burdens—had begun working as a teacher.

Yesterday, so many people had asked Jiang Jian about the “confession rumor” that Mi Yao’s message got buried in the flood, and he never even saw it.

Jiang Jian said, “It’s nothing like that. Miss Mi’s lessons were actually pretty good, but I probably won’t need them anymore since I’m back in class. Her lessons move even faster than our teacher’s, so the past few days have just been review for me—I didn’t pay much attention.”

Yu Qingze chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re sleeping through class now? Playing the diligent student act—sleeping all day, cramming with a tutor all night?”

Jiang Jian: “……”

From his expression, it was clear the curly-haired pup had serious objections to this accusation.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing,” Yu Qingze said, easing off. “Mi Yao’s put together a few sets of test papers that suit you well. I’ll send them to you later.”

Jiang Jian replied, “Thanks. Please tell Miss Mi I said thank you.”

They moved on from the topic of tutoring and chatted about other things.

After Jiang Jian’s mother had a falling-out with the family over Jiang Zhiyuan, they’d never reconciled. The Jiangs were all the same—hard-mouthed but soft-hearted—especially his mom’s older brother, who had secretly helped her out several times back when Jiang Zhiyuan was still struggling.

Even though the two families hadn’t made peace, Jiang Jian still got along with that uncle and his son—Yu Qingze—quite well in private.

But they were years apart and lived in different places, so conversation topics were scarce. Before long, the subject drifted back to Jiang Jian’s mother and his grandfather.

A big reason his mother never reconciled with her family was because his grandfather had a terrible temper. Even after she’d had Jiang Jian with Jiang Zhiyuan, the old man refused to give in.

Everyone thought the old man was still healthy enough to live another ten or twenty years, that time would eventually smooth things over—but no one expected Jiang Jian’s mother to be the one to go first.

When Yu Qingze mentioned the old man, his smile faded a little.

“The old guy never really got used to life over here,” he said. “Last month he was hospitalized again. He’s clearly lost a lot of energy lately. Funny thing—yesterday he wanted to call me, but his mind slipped and he called out your mother’s name instead…”

Yu Qingze gave a small, wry laugh. “He realized it right after and got embarrassed. Then he turned that shame into anger and chewed me out for it.”

The old man never said it aloud, but clearly he still thought about her.

When white hair buries black hair—no one can stay unmoved.

Yu Qingze sighed. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but if you’re willing, maybe you could give your grandpa a call. He looks fierce, but he still cares about you. Of course, if you’re not up for it, that’s fine too. Forget I said anything. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Jiang Jian opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say.

He remembered that day at his mother’s funeral—the old man who hadn’t even wanted to see Jiang Zhiyuan show up.

His face was carved deep with wrinkles, his eyes fierce—nothing about him fit the word “kind.”

But when he saw Jiang Jian, he reached out and touched his face, and his eyes went red.

Too proud to show weakness, he’d immediately turned away, and when he faced him again, his voice was harsh, his face hard—but his eyes had stayed wet the whole time.

Jiang Jian said quietly, “…I’ll think about it. I’ve got a lot going on with school.”

After hanging up, Jiang Jian felt oddly drained. Today felt like some kind of trial day—first the emotional hit from Luo Yue, then another from Yu Qingze.

He slumped over his desk and scrolled through his social feed to distract himself, only to see Luo Shuxin’s latest post.

Luo Shuxin was giving Yige, the cat he’d rescued, a bath.

The poor thing floated blankly in the bathtub, its fur all slicked down like seal skin, eyes wide with confusion as Luo Shuxin’s hands scrubbed away. In the background, Luo Yue’s laughter rang out.

Jiang Jian couldn’t shake the feeling that Luo Yue had probably posted the video herself using Luo Shuxin’s phone.

He ended up watching it over ten times.

Yige could’ve been his cat—though, to be fair, he didn’t resent that Luo Shuxin adopted it. He’d been the one to push it away first.

He really didn’t think he could even take care of himself.

Ever since his mom died, he’d had this deep sense of instability. And when he realized how many women surrounded Jiang Zhiyuan, that insecurity only grew stronger.

The whole world felt too big—like there was nowhere he truly belonged.

People say “home” isn’t just a house. They were probably talking about someone like Jiang Jian.

After replaying the video ten more times, he could practically recall every movement of Luo Shuxin’s fingers.

By then, the comments had exploded. Their mutual classmates from Class One filled the section—
“Wait, isn’t that Yige? He’s got a home now?”
“Never seen the class bully’s cat this obedient—how’s it not scratching him? Is this even the same cat?”
“Oh my god, Yige’s making squeaky sounds—this can’t be the same cat I know!”

Jiang Jian thought he should probably comment something too, but nothing came to mind. After hesitating a moment, he simply gave it a like and closed the app.

He took a shower, tossed Luo Shuxin’s uniform—still at his place—into the washing machine, and set it to spin.

After spending the past few days stepping all over the young master’s landmines, he decided to stay out of trouble. While waiting for the laundry, he finished his physics test paper, got bored, and did a few more from other subjects.

When he finally looked up, it was past midnight. He hung up the washed clothes to dry and went to bed.

The next morning, Jiang Jian woke up ridiculously early. After a night’s sleep, all his gloom seemed gone.

He grabbed Luo Shuxin’s clean uniform to return it and walked into class—only to hear Luo Shuxin coughing.

During morning reading, Luo Shuxin wasn’t doing exercises like usual. He was reading out loud, his voice occasionally broken by two soft coughs.

The sound was low and controlled, but since Jiang Jian sat right beside him, there was no ignoring it.

All through morning reading, Jiang Jian felt awkward and restless.

His own cold had cleared up, but…
Could it be that he’d given it to him?

Actually, it wasn’t that Jiang Jian’s cold had infected Luo Shuxin—but it was still kind of his fault.
Luo Shuxin caught a cold from sitting under the air conditioner.

There were a lot of students in the classroom, so the temperature was set low. The standing air conditioner was positioned at the back right corner of the room—right behind Jiang Jian and Luo Shuxin. Their seats were the coldest in the whole place.

Yesterday afternoon and evening self-study, Luo Shuxin didn’t bring a jacket, and the chill gave him a cold.

Every time Luo Shuxin coughed, Jiang Jian would glance at him. Cough—look. Cough—look.

It wasn’t like Jiang Jian wanted to stare, but he kept thinking maybe he was the one who’d gotten him sick, so he felt guilty.

He must’ve looked over a hundred times during morning reading, until he noticed that Luo Shuxin wasn’t coughing as much anymore. Probably because he’d been glancing too often—Luo Shuxin must have thought he was annoyed by the coughing and started holding it in.

His right hand was half-clenched against his lips. Though it wasn’t silent, it was obvious he was trying to make the sound as small as possible.

Jiang Jian: “?”

Great—now the guilt had doubled.

What are you holding it in for?? Did I say you couldn’t cough???

Morning reading ended; Jiang Jian didn’t know if Luo Shuxin had suffered, but he sure did. He felt worse than the sick one—several times he almost said, “If you want to cough, then just cough already.”

But every time he caught those calm, steady eyes, he swallowed the words back down.

At breakfast, Shao Xing was chattering nonstop in his ear, asking what gifts he’d bought for the Yin siblings’ birthdays. Jiang Jian didn’t hear a single word—he was completely distracted.

Halfway back to the classroom, he sent Shao Xing off somewhere and detoured to the school infirmary to buy some cold medicine.

When he returned to the classroom, Luo Shuxin wasn’t working on practice problems. He was asleep at his desk.

Jiang Jian quietly placed the plastic bag of medicine on Luo Shuxin’s desk. When a classmate in front tried to talk to him, he even gestured for them to keep their voice down.

Luo Shuxin slept until the bell rang. Still half-asleep, he shifted slightly and heard the crinkle of plastic. Blinking, he saw the medicine sitting on his desk.

He instinctively turned to glance at Jiang Jian.

“What are you looking at me for?” Jiang Jian said with all the confidence in the world. “It was already there when I came back from breakfast.”

Luo Shuxin nodded, set the bag aside, rubbed his temples, and started taking out his textbook.

Inside, Jiang Jian felt like there was a little hook scratching at his heart. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“You’re not taking the medicine? Don’t have any water?”

As he spoke, he was already gripping his thermos, ready to hand over the hot water the moment he got an answer.

Luo Shuxin flipped open his book, his voice a bit hoarse—soft and fuzzy, like something brushing lightly against your ears.

“I took some this morning. If I take more now, it’ll be an overdose.”

Jiang Jian: “……”

Then why didn’t you say so earlier?!

Luo Shuxin spent the whole morning looking sickly, coughing on and off.

Which meant Jiang Jian spent the whole morning drowning in guilt. Every cough made his conscience twitch.

By lunchtime, Jiang Jian couldn’t take it anymore. He suddenly grabbed Luo Shuxin by the wrist and dragged him out of the classroom.

At that moment, Luo Shuxin had been helping Shao Xing with a problem—mid-explanation, one hand still holding Shao Xing’s workbook.

Shao Xing froze for a moment, then called after them, “Jian Jian?”

“Don’t worry about it! And don’t follow me! It’s between me and him!” Jiang Jian shouted back, scowling. “And if you say those two words again, I’ll skin you alive!”

Shao Xing: “???”

Jiang Jian hauled Luo Shuxin straight into the school infirmary, shoved him toward a bed, and barked at the school doctor:

“Give him an IV! Keep it going until he stops coughing—whatever it takes!”