Fall - Chapter 12

“Don’t even think about it right now. Studies come first,” Tan Ming warned Yue Can, adding, “Got it?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it,” Yue Can replied, exasperated. She had explained countless times that she had no interest in romance, yet Tan Ming still suspected her of having early romantic tendencies. Her earlier enthusiasm had stemmed from curiosity about Bo Wanzhao’s answer—it was hard to imagine Bo Wanzhao ever being interested in dating.

Tan Ming glanced at Bo Wanzhao’s calm reaction. “Really?”

Bo Wanzhao answered truthfully, “Yes, I’m not considering anything like that for now.”

This response aligned almost perfectly with Yue Can’s expectations.

“Good. You’ve always been so focused on your plans,” Tan Ming mused. Considering Bo Wanzhao’s personality, she likely wouldn’t consider romance until her career was stable—after all, professional success was her foundation and source of security. Tan Ming knew Bo Wanzhao was different from other girls; she carried too many burdens and had too few choices. Even at an age when she should be free to indulge her whims, she couldn’t afford to be reckless.

The tutoring session ended in the evening. Tan Ming had initially wanted Bo Wanzhao to stay for dinner, but Bo Wanzhao declined, citing other commitments. Part of her reluctance stemmed from not wanting to impose on Tan Ming, but she genuinely had plans: she needed to visit the nursing home in the western part of the city that night.

Her visits to the nursing home had become increasingly infrequent. Perhaps, she wondered, it no longer mattered whether she went at all.

Withered hands, like vines, coiled around her neck, dragging her into an endless abyss of darkness. Bo Wanzhao jolted awake, the sensation of falling violently still lingering. Her heart pounded wildly as she stared at the cracked, yellowed ceiling, but she quickly regained her composure.

Waking from nightmares had become routine for her.

It was still early, the sky barely beginning to lighten. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, Bo Wanzhao got up and washed her face. Her sleep quality had always been poor; even melatonin and sleeping pills offered little improvement, often making her nightmares worse.

The day was clear, but the sun’s warmth couldn’t penetrate the room, blocked by an invisible barrier of cold indifference. The air inside remained damp and chilly.

Bo Wanzhao splashed cold water on her face to shock herself awake. Standing before the mirror, her gaze fixed on her neck, where a series of vivid bruises stood out starkly. Overnight, the marks had deepened into a glaring shade of purplish-blue.

She paid little attention to them, making no effort to conceal them. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to such injuries since childhood, her body bearing a patchwork of scars.

The early morning hours were productive. Bo Wanzhao kept busy until after eight o’clock when a WeChat message arrived on her phone.

After a moment’s thought, she got up and went outside.

Bo Wanzhao walked to the alley entrance. The person who had sent her the WeChat message was already there—the same person who had called her yesterday. He was a classmate from her project group, and they had been working together more frequently this semester.

For various reasons, Bo Wanzhao had never lived in the university dorms, remaining elusive and mysterious. Almost no one knew where she rented her apartment until the last project group dinner, when they carpooled home together and everyone realized she lived in a nearby residential complex.

“I brought the data…” The young man held a cup of coffee, his gaze lingering on Bo Wanzhao’s neck. He abruptly changed the subject. “What happened to your neck? Is it injured?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It looks serious. What happened?”

Bo Wanzhao’s reaction was indifferent, and the man sensed her reluctance to talk. He changed the subject again. “Are you free today?”

Without asking why, Bo Wanzhao replied directly, “No, I’m not.”

“You don’t even rest on weekends? Can your body handle that?” The man offered her the coffee. “I grabbed this on my way. I remembered you liked this kind last time.”

Bo Wanzhao didn’t take the coffee. Instead, she cut straight to the chase: “Is there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“Nothing specific. Just… if you’re ever struggling, you can talk to me. I think it must be exhausting for a girl like you to handle everything alone. If there’s anything I can help with…”

Bo Wanzhao recognized him as a Second-Generation Rich kid. She interrupted him sharply: “Why would you want to help me?”

If someone offers you something for no apparent reason, they almost certainly want something in return. Reality had taught her this lesson long ago.

“As classmates, helping and supporting each other is only natural, right?”

“Do you like me?” Bo Wanzhao’s questions hit the mark every time.

Seeing she’d cut to the chase, he dropped the pretense and smiled. “You noticed?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Bo Wanzhao replied calmly. She’d already figured it out; otherwise, he wouldn’t keep finding excuses to meet her. She’d come today to clear things up once and for all.

“Alright, I’ll be straight with you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Yue Can stood in an inconspicuous corner, having been there for quite some time. She hadn’t expected to stumble upon this awkward scene the moment she stepped out of the car—it seemed someone was confessing their feelings to Bo Wanzhao.

The person confessing seemed very confident. “…Can you give me a chance? You don’t have to work so hard. I genuinely want to take care of you.”

Bo Wanzhao maintained a neutral expression, listening politely until the other person finished. She glanced at the coffee in their hand and said calmly, “You think this is romantic, deeply affectionate, and particularly chivalrous. You expect me to be moved and grateful, to accept your feelings, and then we’d start dating, and I’d be warmed and saved, right?”

The other person froze.

Bo Wanzhao’s gaze turned cold. “I don’t need any of that. You’ve chosen the wrong person.”

Yue Can watched intently as Bo Wanzhao stood in the shadow, her words calm yet sharp, her spine straight, her clarity unwavering. Her profile was slender, so slender she looked like she might be snapped by the wind, yet Yue Can felt firsthand what true strength meant.

After the conversation ended, the other person walked away, disappointed. Bo Wanzhao remained standing there, waited a moment, then looked in Yue Can’s direction. “How much longer are you going to stand there?”

Yue Can: “……”

So, I’ve been found out all along.

“I wasn’t deliberately eavesdropping,” Yue Can hurried to explain as she approached Bo Wanzhao. “I just happened to be passing by.” She had gotten out of the car earlier and seen Bo Wanzhao talking to someone. Not wanting to interrupt, she had ended up witnessing a confession and its disastrous rejection.

Bo Wanzhao raised an eyebrow. “So, you were doing it intentionally?”

“I…” Yue Can trailed off, feeling guilty. At the same time, her attention was drawn to the scratches on Bo Wanzhao’s neck—they looked quite severe, as if someone had grabbed her roughly.

Bo Wanzhao added casually, “I’m not blaming you.”

“Huh?” Yue Can blinked in surprise.

Bo Wanzhao turned to face forward. “Let’s go. We need to get to class.”

Yue Can silently watched Bo Wanzhao’s retreating figure, mulling over her words. She was momentarily lost in thought, realizing how much Bo Wanzhao truly indulged her.

“Still not moving?” Bo Wanzhao called out without turning around.

“Oh.” Yue Can hurried to catch up.

The two walked side-by-side down the narrow alley. Yue Can repeatedly glanced at Bo Wanzhao’s injured neck out of the corner of her eye. Bo Wanzhao’s skin was strikingly pale—an unhealthy, almost translucent pallor. Under the sunlight, the scratches stood out even more starkly against her porcelain-white neck.

Yue Can hesitated several times, wanting to ask what had happened, but she forced herself to remain silent. She knew Bo Wanzhao wouldn’t tell her, and asking might even provoke her displeasure.

She spent the entire journey lost in thought, maintaining a quiet silence.

As Yue Can had predicted, they spent the entire morning together without Bo Wanzhao discussing anything beyond their studies, let alone mentioning her injury.

While Bo Wanzhao explained the problems, Yue Can’s wandering gaze kept drifting to her neck, where faint marks lingered near her collarbone. Gradually, her mind began to wander again.

Bo Wanzhao turned her head.

Caught off guard, Yue Can’s furtive glances were intercepted by their target. Their eyes met.

“Stop staring at me,” Bo Wanzhao said.

Yue Can instinctively protested, “I wasn’t…”

Bo Wanzhao fixed her with a steady gaze, calmly retorting, “Weren’t you?”

Yue Can found Bo Wanzhao’s eyes terrifyingly sharp, as if they could see through anything. She recalled how Bo Wanzhao had coldly rejected someone’s confession that morning, her demeanor detached and indifferent—truly devoid of sentiment.

Even when facing each other, Yue Can’s mind drifted. Bo Wanzhao gently tapped her fingers with her pen.

Yue Can’s sensitive fingers curled reflexively. “What was that for?”

“You were daydreaming again.”

Yue Can sighed and buried herself back in her studies.

At noon, the two ate together as usual. Bo Wanzhao seemed no different from usual—quiet and reserved. But Yue Can, observing closely, noticed she seemed even quieter today.

After a moment’s thought, Yue Can asked, “Can we take half the day off to relax?”

Bo Wanzhao looked up at her.

Knowing asking Bo Wanzhao directly wouldn’t work, Yue Can quickly sent a WeChat message to Tan Ming, saying she was exhausted from studying and asking for half a day off to unwind.

It was lunchtime, and Tan Ming replied almost immediately. She readily approved, saying Yue Can’s mock exam scores had improved significantly and deserved a reward.

Yue Can held up her phone to Bo Wanzhao’s face. “See? Mom approved.”

Bo Wanzhao had no response. “Mm.”

Yue Can set her phone back on the table, paused to gather her courage, and then blurted out, “Then let’s go see a movie this afternoon!”

Hearing Yue Can say “we,” Bo Wanzhao’s hand froze around her water glass. Yue Can’s “relax” meant the two of them together.

“You go. I’m not going.”

Another signature rejection…

Since realizing Bo Wanzhao’s indulgence toward her, Yue Can’s attitude had subtly shifted. She leaned closer, her eyes pleading. “Can’t we go together?”