Chapter 22: Applying Medicine

Jiang Yueming escorted Xia He all the way to the infirmary, while Lu Renjia was taken away by the teacher.

The commotion from what had just happened was significant. 

Teachers had arrived at the scene quickly to ask what occurred.

When they saw Xia He’s red-rimmed eyes as she hid behind Jiang Yueming, their gazes toward Lu Renjia sharpened. 

Lu Renjia still wanted to explain, but after the teacher said, “Save it for my office,” he was led away.

The infirmary was empty at the moment. 

The school nurse wasn’t there either—just Jiang Yueming and Xia He.

Xia He sat down on the bed by the window. 

Her eyes were still a little red, with a few undried teardrops clinging to her lashes. 

It was hard not to feel a surge of protectiveness just looking at her.

Jiang Yueming didn’t dare stare too long. 

He turned and rummaged through the medicine cabinet in the corner, quickly pulling out a bottle of iodine and some cotton swabs.

“Where are you hurt?” 

Jiang Yueming asked, using tweezers to pick up a sterile cotton ball.

“My hand.” 

Xia He’s voice was soft and pitiful. 

She timidly extended her hand toward him. “I braced myself when I fell and scraped it…”

Jiang Yueming leaned in for a closer look.

There was a small patch of abrasion near her wrist on her palm. 

The skin had split in several places and was still seeping tiny beads of blood. 

The wound wasn’t large, but against her fair skin it stood out sharply.

Jiang Yueming carefully took her hand, disinfected the area, and then wrapped it neatly with gauze to make sure it wouldn’t get hurt again.

If it had been his own injury, he wouldn’t have bothered with all this—just rinsed it with water and called it done. 

Boys weren’t that delicate. But girls were different, especially a girl like Xia He.

He didn’t want any scars on her.

“Anywhere else?”

Xia He thought for a moment, then lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal her knee.

Jiang Yueming’s gaze instinctively dropped to her knee before he quickly looked away.

“It might sting a little.” 

Jiang Yueming crouched down and dabbed the cotton swab with iodine. “Bear with it for a second.”

Xia He didn’t answer. 

She simply watched him.

He knelt in front of her, head lowered in concentration as he treated the wound on her knee. Sunlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and fell across the side of his face, turning his eyelashes a soft brown.

His movements were gentle. 

Whenever the cotton swab touched the wound, he unconsciously held his breath, as if afraid of hurting her.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“No,” Xia He said.

She was telling the truth.

This level of pain meant nothing to her. 

She had endured far worse—her heart being torn open and stitched back together over and over, watching the same person walk toward someone else again and again in endless loops.

But then she suddenly let out a soft “hiss” and furrowed her brows slightly.

Jiang Yueming’s hand froze instantly. “Did I hurt you?”

“A little.” Xia He’s voice was soft. “Blow on it. It won’t hurt if you blow on it.”

Jiang Yueming paused and looked up at her.

Xia He’s expression was completely innocent, her eyes still glistening with the tears from earlier. 

She looked delicate and pitiful, lips slightly pursed, as if she were acting spoiled or waiting for something.

Jiang Yueming lowered his head, feeling a bit embarrassed.

But since Xia He had asked, it would be awkward for him to act shy about it.

So he puckered his lips and gently blew a breath across her knee.

The airflow brushed over the wound, bringing a cool sensation. Xia He’s knee trembled faintly.

Not from pain.

It was because his breath was so close. 

Close enough that she could feel the warmth of it. 

The light tickle against her skin felt like a feather gently brushing her heart.

A sudden impulse rose inside her, but she quickly suppressed it.

“Better now?” Jiang Yueming asked, his voice a little muffled.

“Mm.” Xia He’s cheeks flushed. She turned her head slightly. “Much better.”

Jiang Yueming let out a breath of relief, tossed the cotton swab into the trash, and was about to stand when Xia He suddenly reached out and pressed down on his shoulder.

“Wait,” she said.

Jiang Yueming stayed in his crouched position and looked up at her.

From this angle, Xia He’s jawline looked impossibly soft. 

A few stray strands of hair hung by her ear, catching the sunlight and glowing with a faint golden hue. 

Her face was still flushed, but her eyes no longer darted away like before.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There’s still dirt on my knee.” 

Xia He pointed to the area beside the wound. 

“You didn’t clean it all.”

Jiang Yueming glanced down.

She was right. 

The iodine had only been applied to the broken skin. 

There were still faint gray smudges around it from when she had fallen. 

He picked up a fresh cotton ball, dabbed it with iodine, and carefully wiped away the marks.

Xia He’s leg tensed slightly. 

She felt a rush of heat surge from her knee up to her lower abdomen, sending a faint electric current racing through her body.

“Hurts again?” Jiang Yueming paused.

“No.” Xia He’s voice was barely louder than a mosquito. “…It itches.”

Iodine did tend to sting a little on unbroken skin.

Jiang Yueming sped up. 

His fingertips pressed gently against the underside of her knee through the thin cotton layer. 

The warm touch traveled through, and Xia He’s breathing hitched for half a beat. 

Her fingers unconsciously tightened on the bedsheet.

“All done.” Jiang Yueming stood up and began putting the supplies back in the cabinet.

Xia He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the neat square of gauze on her knee.

He had bandaged it with great care, smoothing every corner of the tape flat. 

She suddenly felt a little reluctant for the wound to heal.

“Jiang Yueming.”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever treated anyone else’s injuries before?”

Jiang Yueming thought for a moment. “Just my own.”

“What about girls?”

“Never.” He placed the iodine back in the cabinet and closed the door. “You’re the first.”

The corner of Xia He’s mouth curved up before she quickly flattened it again.

“Your technique is pretty good, though,” she said, a faint note of satisfaction hidden in her tone.

“You pick it up after watching enough times.” 

Jiang Yueming dusted off his hands, turned around, and leaned against the cabinet, keeping about two steps of distance between them. 

“In games you’re always healing teammates. You get used to it.”

Xia He let out a soft laugh.

“You’re treating me like a game teammate?”

“No, no,” Jiang Yueming waved his hands quickly. “I was just making a comparison…”

“I know.” 

Xia He smiled and cut him off. 

Her eyes curved into two crescent moons.

“You can be really fun sometimes.”

The infirmary fell quiet. The only sound was the occasional rustle of the curtain stirred by the wind outside.

Jiang Yueming was wondering whether he should head back to class now that the task was done when Xia He spoke again.

“Jiang Yueming, come here for a second.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Come here.”

Jiang Yueming hesitated, then walked over and sat beside her on the bed.

The mattress dipped slightly, and Xia He’s slender body leaned toward him naturally.

Jiang Yueming startled and was about to shift away.

Xia He suddenly grabbed his hand. “Your hands are so big.”

Jiang Yueming froze. He instinctively tried to pull back.

“Don’t move,” she said softly. “Let me look.”

Jiang Yueming sat stiffly and held his hand out awkwardly for her to examine.

Xia He stared at it as if she had discovered some fascinating new treasure, turning it left and right, unable to get enough. 

As she looked, her fingers unconsciously brushed over it, then slipped between his, lacing them together one by one.

The motion was slow. 

Their hands gradually intertwined, fingers perfectly interlocked.

Xia He lifted their joined hands in front of Jiang Yueming, smiling brightly as she showed him.

“Look, our hands fit together perfectly.”

In the gentle crescent of her eyes, Jiang Yueming felt as if he had turned to stone. His heart pounded loudly.

The wind outside seemed to stop. 

The light in the air moved so slowly it was possible to trace its path. 

Their eyes met. 

In Xia He’s soft gaze, time seemed to slip away for a long, long while.

Who was beating that drum?

Jiang Yueming was surrounded by deafening drumbeats. 

Only in his daze did he realize the sound was coming from his own chest.

***

Outside the door, hidden in a shadow the two inside could not see through the window.

Su Xiaoyue leaned against the wall, her expression lost in the shade. 

She watched the pair in the infirmary quietly.

“Good acting.”

She murmured the words so softly that only she could hear them.

After watching for a while longer, she turned and left.

“It’s only just beginning…”

The wind rose. Her voice scattered on the breeze and faded into silence.

No one had noticed she had ever been there.