I Redeemed Him, But Who Will Redeem Me? - Chapter 20

After dinner, Lin Xicai took the medicines into the space.

The house she had meticulously recreated originally had three bedrooms, a living room, and a study. Lin Xicai had restricted access to her parents’ master bedroom, her own room, and the study, leaving only one guest room open for general use.

At that moment, Li Ci was lying on the bed in that guest room, curled up nervously, lacking any sense of security.

He hadn’t eaten in a long time and had been burning with fever for two days, so he looked more like a malnourished, sickly figure—somewhat easier on the eyes compared to the fake, arrogant facade he showed outside.

Lin Xicai walked over, grabbed the supplies, and quickly bandaged his wounds, putting a band-aid over the scratch on his neck.

Feeding him was trickier. He was unconscious, so pills and capsules forced into his mouth wouldn’t go down—he just grimaced and spat them out.

Lin Xicai had no other choice. She emptied the powder from capsules or crushed the pills, dissolved them in hot water, and poured it all down his throat at once.

His cracked lips slightly parted at the sight of water, showing a brief hint of cooperation, but the bitter taste quickly made him frown. Even while still unconscious, his face already carried anger.

Lin Xicai wasn’t skilled at taking care of people, nor did she have the patience. She simply kept spooning the medicine into him. Li Ci coughed violently from the bitter liquid. When his eyes opened briefly, hoarse, he muttered some familiar venom:

“Want to die? Go… go ask the butler to settle your wages… you’re fired…”

Lin Xicai paused, as if hearing a joke, then immediately put the spoon aside, reached over, grabbed his chin, and poured the remaining half bowl of medicine down his throat.

Li Ci choked, half of the murky medicine going in while half spilled out. He shrank instinctively, then slowly opened his eyes, finally focusing and seeing the visitor clearly.

He stared at that pure, harmless face. Under the light, the sweet, pretty face gradually twisted, turning into an inscrutable female ghost.

Li Ci stared at her for a while, hoarsely saying, “I want to eat.”

Lin Xicai still didn’t speak. Her eyes drifted lightly toward the floor.

Scattered on the ground were the bread, sausages, and bottled water she had thrown down untouched.

Her gaze was openly provocative and contemptuous. She expected him to continue causing trouble, but he just forced himself to rise, silently picked up a piece of bread from the floor, tore open the packaging, and started eating.

He ate quickly and grabbed two bottles of water.

He swallowed while staring straight at her, weak and pale, yet his eyes were ominous.

Lin Xicai watched coldly, fully aware that their contest was far from over.

The next day was Saturday. The doctor contacted for her by Fu Changmin returned to the country, and Lin Xicai went for a full physical. Afterward, she spent some time on homework and then took a bag out onto the street.

Judging by how much she had already used, she needed to purchase more supplies.

She calculated the money in her pocket and frowned slightly—it was far more expensive than keeping a cat. Troubles were troublesome no matter where they appeared.

She stocked up on bread, instant noodles, buns, ham, and other supplies. On her way back, she passed a hair salon and decided to get a haircut.

Her long ponytail went in; she came out with a new style.

Shoulder-length hair fell smoothly, perfectly framing her face. Her small face looked even cuter, with thin, straight bangs casually lying over her brows, complementing her bright, lively eyes, giving her an almost ethereal charm.

Looking in the mirror, Lin Xicai thought—was it just her imagination, or did this hairstyle make her face look more like her original self?

Or maybe her old hairstyle suited her better, she thought.

She returned to her room with the supplies and ran into Zhong Ping at the door. Zhong Ping looked at her and paused, sensing something unfamiliar about her appearance.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

Lin Xicai playfully flicked her hair and smiled, “Not good?”

The slight strangeness was dispelled. Zhong Ping smiled too, “Looks good—like a doll.”

Seeing she was about to leave, Zhong Ping asked, “Where are you going?”

Lin Xicai smiled, “Taking Sara for a walk on the lawn.”

She was playing on the lawn with the golden retriever, the dog bouncing ahead, while she was somewhat distracted.

After walking for a while, the leash suddenly went tight. The dog bolted, and Lin Xicai looked up to see two figures standing not far away.

Fu Yanxiu and a young man, likely a university friend, were staring at her. Both paused in surprise.

Lin Xicai guessed Fu Yanxiu wouldn’t want to meet her. She remembered how she had spoken rudely to him in the Chinese office last time. She tugged the leash back, standing in place, politely nodded from a distance, and walked the dog out of the garden.

Fu Yanxiu’s gaze lingered on her back for a long time, eyes complex.

Distracted, his arm was bumped by someone. “Who was that little beauty just now? Your sister?”

Fu Yanxiu pulled his gaze away, “No.”

The other person was momentarily stunned, then exclaimed, “Then this… this is your aunt’s daughter?”

Fu Yanxiu didn’t deny it.

“So this little girl is trying to take advantage of you?” The man looked curiously. “She doesn’t look like the person in the video. Her eyes are so clean—doesn’t look like someone who could do that.”

He paused, then laughed, adding a teasing tone, “Besides, she’s grown like this—does she really need to use such low tricks?”

His words triggered Fu Yanxiu’s memory of that incident, along with a familiar disgust toward that person. His tone turned cold:

“The prettier something is, the less it stands up to scrutiny.”

“But being pretty gives you the right to be forgiven,” the man laughed heartily. “I was ready to share your anger, but now I don’t feel so mad anymore…”

Fu Yanxiu looked at him, slightly confused: “Someone who has always ranked first suddenly falls to last after a fall—is that reasonable?”

“Anything can happen in this world,” the man waved his hands casually. “If you mess up your brain, it’s possible.”

Fu Yanxiu pressed his thin lips tightly, saying nothing.

Really?

He didn’t believe it.

He wanted to see what tricks she was planning to play.

Lin Xicai had dinner with the Fu family. During the meal, Fu Changmin asked about her health. The doctor was present and shared her condition: according to the physical, she was very healthy, with above-average metrics and no issues.

Fu Changmin was a little surprised and asked about her grades. The doctor couldn’t explain it either and suggested it might be psychological.

The result was exactly what Lin Xicai expected. If anything abnormal had been found, she could only respond obediently, saying not to worry and that she would try to catch up.

Unexpectedly, Fu Changmin suggested that since Fu Yanxiu was tutoring Fu Xuefan, she could join too.

Hearing this, the Fu siblings immediately looked over. Lin Xicai, aware of her limits, quickly said, “No need to trouble Yanxiu, my foundation is too weak. I’d have to start from the very basics. My pace might not match Xuefan’s.”

“Don’t you know Xuefan’s level? Your foundation is weak, hers is strong?” Fu Changmin glanced at his daughter, half-chiding, half-indulgent. “Maybe you two are at the same level now. Yanxiu can teach both of you at once.”

Fu Xuefan, annoyed, retorted, “I’m not at the bottom. Who’s at the same level as her?”

Both girls looked at Fu Yanxiu, each hoping he would be the one to refuse.

Fu Yanxiu didn’t look at either, sipped his tea, then nodded calmly in front of everyone.

Lin Xicai frowned, slightly uneasy at his composed elegance.

But Fu Changmin had already made the decision. Sunday afternoon, she was called to the front villa’s study.

Having no one to guide her, Lin Xicai decided to make use of the opportunity. She brought her textbooks to the front villa’s study.

Fu Yanxiu intended to probe, but within half an hour, he was nearly driven mad by the two girls.

Fu Xuefan, usually frustrating enough, became even worse. The other girl was more terrifying—ignorant, asking as if she needed explanations from the Stone Age for every question.

“Am I not explaining clearly enough?”

“No, I didn’t understand.”

“At which step did you get lost?”

“The first step.”

“…?”

“How did you get that formula in the first step?”

“…You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

Lin Xicai opened her mouth, then closed it again, her large eyes showing innocence.

Fu Yanxiu looked into those eyes, suddenly feeling irritated. His tone turned cold, habitually sharp and sarcastic:

“You don’t think being foolish is cute, do you? If you’re trying to get someone’s attention this way, it’s ridiculous.”

“…?”

Lin Xicai felt she had made a mistake coming here.

For a moment, she had even hoped this person would help her. How foolish she was—he was the one most eager to humiliate her. Even her mere breathing could be considered a provocation in his eyes.

Lin Xicai straightened up, smiled faintly under Fu Yanxiu’s gaze, returning the sarcasm:

“You don’t think being narcissistic is cute, do you? If you’re trying to get someone’s attention this way, that’s equally ridiculous.”

She picked up her textbook and walked away.

Fu Xuefan stared at her back, stunned, then half a beat later, angrily said, “Look at her! Who does she think she’s talking to? Such rude behavior…”

Fu Yanxiu frowned, paused for a moment, and bent down to pick up the scattered draft papers she had written.

Holding the papers in his hand, he was silent for a moment, then looked at Fu Xuefan: “Do you still have Zhong Fei’s old notebooks or exercise books?”

“Who keeps her stuff?”

Fu Xuefan was annoyed, then thought for a moment and said, “…I think I have a few papers.”

“Give them to me,” Fu Yanxiu said.

After a while, Fu Xuefan handed him a stack, puzzled: “What do you want these for?”

Fu Yanxiu looked at the two clearly different handwritings in the stack, and something seemed to explode in his mind…