Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 17.1

Chapter 17 – Time Speaks 07 – Part 1

The doctor diagnosed Wenwen with a cold, prescribing a few doses of medicine and an IV drip to take care of it.

After taking the medicine, Wenwen couldn’t receive the IV immediately. The little girl dozed off on Zuo Yi’s shoulder, and a nurse arranged for her to be taken to a ward. To ensure a quiet space for her to rest, Qiao Shan requested a private room.

Looking at the innkeeper and Zuo Yi, Qiao Shan finally let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you both so much for your help.”

The innkeeper, equally relieved, said, “As long as the little one’s okay, that’s what matters.”

“Where’s the kid’s guardian?” Zuo Yi’s gaze settled on Qiao Shan’s right hand, his brows furrowing. “They actually left a child in the care of someone who can’t even take care of themselves.”

Qiao Shan looked puzzled, following his gaze to her hand. Only then did she notice a severe scrape on the back of her hand, the skin torn and revealing raw, red flesh. When she pressed it lightly with her fingertip, a sharp, burning pain flared up.

She must have gotten it when she fell down the stairs earlier.

Returning to register and queue again would take too long, so she bought a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some medical non-woven fabric. Using a cotton swab, she disinfected the wound single-handedly and, with the innkeeper’s help, bandaged it up.

She asked the innkeeper, “I’ve been up since five and didn’t see Xiao Jia. When did he leave?”

The innkeeper, who slept at the front desk, would have noticed if anyone left.

He thought for a moment before replying, “Hmm, I remember now. Around one in the morning, Xiao Lin cooked a bowl of noodles and brought it to Xiao’s room. They seemed to know each other. About one-thirty, Xiao Lin left the inn, and half an hour later, Xiao Jia followed. Neither of them came back after that.”

“Xiao Lin… you mean Lin Zhen?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s her! Miss Qiao, you know her too?”

“…Damn it, so he went off to chase a girl?”

While Qiao Shan was happy to see this outcome, leaving a little girl alone in the room was crossing a line!

If something had gone wrong, how would they explain it to her mother?

The innkeeper said, “You must be starving after all this running around. There’s a nurse here watching Wenwen. Let me treat you both to some local delicacies from the ancient town.”

Qiao Shan glanced at Zuo Yi. “Why don’t you two head back to the inn? Zuo Yi, you could use a change of clothes.”

“Let’s eat first,” Zuo Yi said, his tone firm and unyielding.

The innkeeper, a kind middle-aged man in his early forties, ran an affordable inn with a knack for hospitality.

He led them to a food street behind the hospital, bustling with crowds shoulder-to-shoulder. Qiao Shan wove through the throng, marveling to herself: the May Day holiday rush is truly something else.

They entered a restaurant, and the innkeeper took them straight to the third floor, seating them by a window.

Qiao Shan sat across from Zuo Yi, leaning against the carved wooden window frame, her curious gaze drifting outside. Beyond the commercial streets of the ancient town, thousands of residential courtyards stretched out, mostly Ming and Qing dynasty architecture with single-eave, gabled wooden structures, neatly arranged in rows.

The Rhino Horn Inn, where they were staying, was one such private courtyard converted into a guesthouse.

Qiao Shan pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the ancient town’s tiled rooftops outside the window.

Tangxi Ancient Town nestled against the midstream of the Lingjiang River, bordered by Long County to the east and the rugged Jian Mountain to the west. Its architectural style was a testament to the wisdom of the ancient Ba-Shu people, perfectly embodying traditional Chinese geomancy in residential design.

The town’s layout centered around a tower hundreds of meters tall, with a dozen main streets branching out in layers, resembling a chessboard from above or, some said, an eight-trigram formation.

Qiao Shan uploaded the photo to WeChat.

The picture accidentally captured one of Zuo Yi’s hands. His fingers were long and defined, holding a celadon teacup, his index finger rhythmically tapping the rim as if playing the keys of a piano, full of grace.

For some reason, the image brought to mind his low, gentle singing of “Firefly,” accompanied by clear piano notes—so beautiful.

Her WeChat Moments post received a few likes and comments.

Boss Ying commented: Little matchmaker, are you and Zuo Yi out admiring flowers, the moon, and sipping tea? Are you into hands?

Tongtong Loves Pears commented: Shanshan, you haven’t hung out with me in forever since you quit. I’m upset! You’re traveling with a hot guy? Show us his face!

Qiao Shan ignored Ying Shengnan and replied to Tongtong Loves Pears: Not at all!

Supervisor Liu Li commented: Huh? This guy’s hand could rival the general manager’s. So suave. [Giggling emoji] I heard guys with long hands are good at… you know. [Winking emoji]

“…”

Qiao Shan replied to Liu Li: Really? Guess I’ll have to flirt and find out just how good he is. [Giggling emoji]

After the innkeeper ordered the food, he turned to Qiao Shan. “Miss Qiao, what’s your WeChat? Let’s add each other. Next time you come to the ancient town, message me ahead of time, and I’ll reserve a top room for you!”

Qiao Shan displayed her QR code. “Sure, thanks, boss!”

After adding the innkeeper on WeChat, they also added Zuo Yi.

Zuo Yi’s WeChat ID was dle, a string of English letters that seemed classy at first glance but lost all charm when translated—Beef Noodles! His profile picture was a cartoon doll with bangs and dead-fish eyes, exuding a hint of cold indifference, much like the man himself.

The first thing after adding someone on WeChat? Naturally, checking out their Moments.

The innkeeper’s Moments were mostly about inn discounts and some side-hustle posts selling local specialties like aged vinegar and beef.

Zuo Yi’s Moments were sparse, mostly shared industry articles, occasional scenic photos, or a few songs. His feed bottomed out quickly.

The wait for the food dragged on, and Qiao Shan noticed something odd about the man across from her.

Zuo Yi looked up at her. “Want to try?”

His sudden question caught her off guard, but she quickly linked it to the WeChat comment.

Qiao Shan blinked, puzzled. “You have my supervisor’s WeChat?”

Zuo Yi raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Qiao Shan covered her face, wishing she could crawl into a hole.

It couldn’t get any more embarrassing…

During the meal, she avoided looking at him, piling food into her bowl.

So humiliating, so humiliating…

Zuo Yi set down his chopsticks. “You’re taking all the food. What are we supposed to eat?”

Qiao Shan blinked at him, then picked out a large portion from her bowl and placed it in his. “Here.”

Zuo Yi glared. “What are you doing?”

Seeing his irritation, Qiao Shan quickly took the food back from his bowl and resumed eating in silence.

Zuo Yi: “Are you doing this on purpose?”

The tension between them grew, but the innkeeper chuckled. “You two youngsters are quite something.”

Qiao Shan hadn’t meant to do anything; she was just nervous and embarrassed, so she kept piling food into her bowl.

“What’s so funny?” Qiao Shan said, a bit annoyed. “He’s just got a problem with me, that’s all. It’s just a little teasing between adults, isn’t it?”

Zuo Yi: “Is it polite to tease others?”

Qiao Shan, stubborn, shot back, “Fine, I’m sorry, okay? Mr. Petty.”

The waiter brought a plate of braised chicken feet. Qiao Shan used the serving chopsticks to pick one for Zuo Yi, saying sincerely, “All jokes aside, thank you so much for helping with Wenwen. Order whatever you want—it’s on me. Here, have a chicken foot.”

Zuo Yi: “Do I need to thank you for that?”

The innkeeper smiled without a word.

After lunch, the innkeeper had to head back to the inn, so Qiao Shan returned to the hospital, with Zuo Yi tagging along.

Wenwen was awake, lying in bed telling the nurse the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Her fever had broken, and though she was still recovering, she was already chattering away like a little adult, making the nurse chuckle.

Spotting Zuo Yi and Qiao Shan, she called out brightly, “Mama Qiao! Uncle Zuo!”

Qiao Shan sat by the bed, feeling Wenwen’s forehead. The fever was gone. “Feeling better, Wenwen? Still uncomfortable?”

Wenwen’s voice was soft and sweet. “A little, but much better! Daddy Xiao bought me a sugar painting. If you’d come back earlier, Mama Qiao, you could’ve had some, but it’s all gone now—Wenwen ate it all!”

Qiao Shan: “Daddy Xiao’s back?”

Wenwen nodded, blinking. Just then, Xiao Jia walked in carrying a thermos.

Qiao Shan turned to him, fuming. “Where were you?”