The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie-Chapter 64 - : 064: Can’t Help But Confess
Chapter 64: 064: Can’t Help But Confess
While Ah Wan was making her fourth trip to the bathroom, Shuangxi’s “mom” Zhou Xufang finally arrived.
She wore a fluffy hat and her black down jacket wrapped her from head to toe.
“Are you feeling better?”
As soon as Jiang Zhi heard the voice, he turned around immediately, the corner of his mouth curved for a second before he suppressed it, and he looked at the door instead of her: “No.”
She was still carrying big and small packages.
Ah Wan took the initiative to take the items: “Miss Zhou, what are these?”
...
“Health supplements.”
Ah Wan counted them, a total of eight boxes: “Are they all for my boss?”
Yes, he asked knowingly on purpose.
Zhou Xufang touched the pompom on her wool hat and nodded.
Jiang Zhi sat up from the hospital bed. He was particular, disliking the hospital’s sick clothes for being unclean, and wore pajamas instead. His misty blue short hair was tousled and a strand stood up on his forehead.
In this state, he had no aggressiveness at all.
“Do you have too much money? Why buy all these things?”
Listening closely, one could hear a hint of smugness and pleasure in the scolding tone.
Zhou Xufang said, “To replenish your body.”
Just like that… his anger was soothed, the pique he wagered was gone, and the spring scenery burst crazily from his eyes again: “How much do you earn a day from handing out flyers?”
She answered precisely: “Usually 150 yuan, but with the snow today, it’s 300 yuan.” She had only a few flyers left when he called her, so that’s why she waited to finish distributing them before coming.
“And how much did you spend on these things?”
“Eight thousand four hundred and thirty-seven.”
Jiang Zhi: “…”
He wanted to shove his card at her, to save worrying about her spending recklessly without money.
“Just come by yourself next time, don’t buy anything else.”
Zhou Xufang: “Okay.”
She thought, she couldn’t really come empty-handed, it would be impolite not to bring anything for a visit.
“Why are you standing so far away? Come sit closer.”
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Zhou Xufang was too shy to sit on his hospital bed, so she moved a chair over, placing it not too far away from him.
“Are you hot?”
The room had the heater on.
She was bundled up tight in her hat and down jacket, her cheeks showing a layer of red, though it was uncertain if it was from the heat or the wind outside.
Zhou Xufang shook her head: “Not hot.”
Jiang Zhi turned the temperature down by two degrees anyway and put on his coat: “Do you want soup? Ah Wan’s mother made it, it tastes very good.”
“I do.”
He served her a big bowl, scooping all the precious medicinal ingredients and meat into it for her.
Zhou Xufang said thank you, holding the bowl as she consumed the soup and meat.
She couldn’t help herself and asked, “Didn’t Mr. Xue come to keep you company?”
Was Jiang Zhi dating Mr. Xue?
These past few days, she had been contemplating this question, while working, even while sleeping, to the extent that it disturbed her sleep.
Jiang Zhi stared at her frowning little face: “Are you talking about Xue Baoyi or Xue Bingxue?”
“Mr. Xue Baoyi.”
He shifted his position, leaning against the pillow sideways: “Why would I want him to accompany me?”
Her frown deepened, the look on her face confused and troubled, and after a long while she murmured softly, “Isn’t he your boyfriend?”
Jiang Zhi: “…”
He was so choked up that a rush of blood surged to his face, turning his otherwise pale complexion a bit rosy: “Who told you he’s my boyfriend?”
Zhou Xufang said nothing then, she definitely couldn’t betray Fang Lixiang.
He gasped for air, propping himself up to sit straight: “Zhou Xufang.”
“Hmm?”
The expression on her face was simply… a mess, looking bewildered, stupid, cute, and perplexed.
He had been annoyed with her lack of understanding, but as he watched her face, he felt an urge to poke and touch it. In the end, he was neither angry nor willing to scold her, his voice softened by several degrees: “Did someone tell you that I am gay?”
She nodded.
Jiang Zhi was silent for a moment, then his tone became suddenly serious: “I’m not, currently.”
Currently?
Zhou Xufang looked up at him with a completely baffled expression.
He grew impatient and blurted out: “I don’t like anyone else, I—”
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Knock! Knock! Knock!”
The words Jiang Zhi was about to say were all stifled in his throat, leaving him so frustrated he felt like hitting someone, his temper flaring up: “What is it!”
“Mr. Jiang,” the head nurse was cowed by his shouting, “It’s, it’s time. We need to draw some blood.”
Jiang Zhi glanced at Zhou Xufang; she still had the same expression as before. Irritably, he ran his fingers through his hair, “Come in.”
The head nurse pushed the door open and entered; the atmosphere was tense, and she dared not breathe too heavily.
Mr. Jiang’s temper was well-known among the hospital’s doctors and nurses; he wasn’t the type to make things difficult for people on purpose, but whenever he looked coldly with those beautiful eyes of his, it felt like a barrage of ice shards pounding down—it didn’t kill you, but it pierced your heart.
At this moment, the patriarch was wearing a stern face.
“Left hand or right hand?”
With trembling hands, the head nurse placed the medical tray down, “Right hand.”
Jiang Zhi lay back and stretched out his arm, rolling up his sleeve.
His veins were thin, but his skin was so pale it made them clearly visible. As the needle pierced his skin, he watched Zhou Xufang, who was watching his hand.
Her expression was grave, “Does it hurt?”
He had been a “sick seedling” for more than twenty years and was used to all sorts of pain, numb to it all, but this was the first time someone had asked him if it hurt.
The question made his heart itch.
“It hurts,” he looked at her, “Blow on it, and it won’t hurt anymore.”
Zhou Xufang, as if realizing something, turned her head, “Nurse sister, could you blow on it for him?”
The head nurse: “…”
Jiang Zhi: “…”
Is this an ice sculpture? Completely unresponsive!
Of course, the head nurse didn’t dare blow on Jiang Zhi. She quickly drew two tubes of blood and scampered off.
Zhou Xufang only sat for about twenty minutes before she left. Before going, she made plans with Jiang Zhi to eat together again the next evening. She seemed to be in a good mood, unusually greeting the patients she met at the door and even helped a female patient on her way to the restroom carry her IV drip.
Jiang Zhi wasn’t gay and wasn’t friends with Mr. Xue Baoyi. She had to hurry and tell Fang Lixiang not to continue the misunderstanding.
After Zhou Xufang left, Ah Wan approached the bedside.
“Boss,” he couldn’t hold back, “were you trying to confess just now?”
Jiang Zhi neither admitted nor denied, fixated on the door, his mind elsewhere.
Ah Wan considered for a moment, “I think it’s inappropriate.”
Jiang Zhi’s eyelids twitched, and his gaze turned to him.
Although his employer was fussy and had a bad temper, Ah Wan had professional ethics; he was about to offer his unsolicited advice.
“I heard that actress called Lixiang say that Miss Zhou’s IQ is over 130, which is very high, probably exchanged for EQ.”
Lin Wanwan, with an IQ below 100, at this moment felt an inexplicable confidence.
“Plus, you see, Miss Zhou is completely clueless about you. If you confess hurriedly, you might scare her off.”
Jiang Zhi pondered.
Lifting his eyelids, he asked somewhat unnaturally, “So, what do I do?”
Ah Wan’s face had an air of profound wisdom, “Boss, you need to boil the frog in warm water, gradually and slowly infiltrate, until she gets used to your countless kindnesses, and then she can’t leave you anymore.” He felt like he could be a relationship expert—he was particularly confident, “I watched an idol drama a few days ago, and that’s how the male lead got the girl.”
Although he wasn’t very sharp and his brain was quite simple, Lin Wanwan had been watching Korean dramas with Ms. Song since she was ten years old; she didn’t get the nickname ‘harvester’ for nothing.
When it came to matters of men and women, Jiang Zhi was a mere fledgling.
“Cough cough,” Jiang Zhi cleared his throat in a feigned manner and casually asked, “What’s that drama called?”
“The Overbearing CEO Falls in Love with Me.”
Jiang Zhi: “…”
He must be really desperate to believe the nonsense from Lin Wanwan.
Contemplating for three seconds—
“Send it to me.”
The next day, the snow continued, covering the path as before.
Jiang Zhi and Zhou Xufang had agreed to meet at the porridge shop, the one where Zhou Xufang worked. Jiang Zhi had chosen the place, and why didn’t he choose somewhere more upscale, with more style?
Because he wanted to save her money.
Zhou Xufang didn’t allow Jiang Zhi to come and pick her up; they scheduled to meet at 6:30 PM at the entrance of the porridge shop.
Ah Wan thought his employer had issues; he had him drive over at 4 PM, didn’t go inside the shop, just waiting in the freezing snow.
The car parked across from the porridge shop, Jiang Zhi looked at his watch and asked Ah Wan, “What time is it?”
He suspected his watch was broken.
“Boss, it’s only 5 PM.” Ah Wan couldn’t help but comment, “You’re here too early.”
Jiang Zhi flicked his eyelashes.
Ah Wan immediately shut up, turned his head to look at the swirling snowflakes, the world draped in a silver veil, visibility obscured. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure and exclaimed, “Ah! Miss Zhou is delivering orders!”
At the entrance of the porridge shop, Zhou Xufang had just come out, wearing an eye-catching, delivery staff-exclusive, yellow helmet.
Without even an umbrella, Jiang Zhi got out of the car, called out to Zhou Xufang, and then, amidst the falling snow, he stood across the street, waving his hand at her.
She turned back and saw him, saw the snow on his shoulders, saw the matte black buttons on his coat, saw his smile—faint, but pleasant, like a youth hurriedly returning home.
Then, from behind him on the road, a sedan crossed the zebra crossing and suddenly accelerated.
The bag in Zhou Xufang’s hand dropped.
“Jiang Zhi!”
