Diagnosis: Friend [Rebirth] - Chapter 36.2

Chapter 36.2

She hung up the phone.

The rain outside showed no signs of stopping, still clattering against the glass. Tan Baozhu let out a yawn and curled into the sofa, clutching a throw pillow. After a moment, she brought her phone before her eyes; the screen lit up instantly, reflecting her sharp, delicate nose.

She sniffled, waiting for the call to connect.

The moment the line opened, a thick, nasal voice escaped her throat, laced with grievance and a hint of coquetry. “Mama.”

The woman on the other end hesitated before asking what was wrong. Tan Baozhu lay on the sofa, half her face covered by a mess of hair. She heard the voice of another little girl in the background of the call, and her expression turned cold instantly, though her voice remained clingy: “I think I have a fever.”

She said, “I went to tutoring today and got caught in the rain on the way back. My head hurts so much.”

The woman asked, “Where is your father?”

Her dark eyes nearly merged with the darkness of the room. Tan Baozhu curled her lips into a cold sneer, but realizing it was inappropriate, she answered obediently, “He’s on a business trip. He won’t be back for a while.”

Better if he dies out there and never comes back.

There was a silence on the other end before the woman said, “There should be a thermometer at home. Take it out and check your temperature under your arm. I’m coming over right now.”

The call ended. Tan Baozhu was in a pleasant mood; she rolled around on the sofa for a good while before getting up and heading into the bathroom. Cold water poured from her head to her toes. She was so cold her teeth chattered.

The rain continued to fall. The leaves in the flowerbeds were washed clean and stainless; the soil turned dark and soaked, becoming as soft as if it had been freshly tilled.

Pushing open the bathroom door, Gu Yining walked to the bedside, carrying a faint mist of moisture.

The girl on the bed had perfect sleeping posture. Her head rested squarely on the pillow, and the spread-out quilt showed no signs of movement. Her lower abdomen was slightly raised; Gu Yining guessed that was where her hands were folded. The main lights weren’t on, so the room was dim.

Gu Yining sat at the edge of the bed, and the soft mattress immediately dipped. Tucking a few stray damp hairs behind her ear, she leaned over slightly, reaching out to check Jiang Qing’s forehead.

She reconsidered and withdrew her hand, tucking it under the quilt to warm it for a while before finally touching Jiang Qing’s forehead. The fever seemed to have subsided slightly. There was a light sweat on her brow, and her lips weren’t as ghastly white as when they first arrived. Though her complexion remained poor, she was overall improving.

Gu Yining fetched a basin of warm water, soaked a towel, wrung it dry, and gently wiped the sweat from the girl’s face. Jiang Qing’s brows were still furrowed like a series of distant, winding mountains. Gu Yining’s thumb gently traced a brow, rubbing it with a touch so light she wondered if she was even touching her. It seemed effective; after a while, the tension in the brow slowly smoothed out.

Gu Yining looked down at Jiang Qing. She was clean and beautiful, like a piece of fine white porcelain, cool to the touch. Under the soft light, her pale skin emitted a pearl-like luster. Now that she was sleeping quietly with her features relaxed, the cold, distant aura she carried while awake had vanished, replaced by a tangible softness that practically invited one to draw closer.

Gu Yining leaned down slowly. She really just wanted to see Jiang Qing up close. But she seemed too close—so close her nose accidentally brushed against Jiang Qing’s. Jiang Qing’s steady breath fell against her face, and she had to prop herself up with her hands on either side of Jiang Qing’s head.

A few strands of hair began to slide down, nearly tickling Jiang Qing’s cheek. Gu Yining reacted quickly, tucking them behind her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the lips twitch. Gu Yining looked up, following the line of Jiang Qing’s nose.

Under the warm yellow light, the pale gray pupils had turned into a beautiful glaze-like color. Gu Yining froze for a moment, then smiled. “You’re awake.”

Her breath brushed against Jiang Qing’s face and bounced back onto her own. Realizing she was far too close, she quickly sat back up. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

Jiang Qing blinked, looking dazed. She sat up as well, seemingly not fully awake, her eyes following Gu Yining’s every move. She gazed at Gu Yining with a look that was incredibly gentle and cautious, almost obsessive. Gu Yining waved a hand in front of her face and noticed a few white towel fibers stuck to Jiang Qing’s cheek, standing out in the warm light.

Gu Yining reached out to pick them off, but Jiang Qing unexpectedly recoiled. She stared at Gu Yining’s hand for a moment until her eyes gradually cleared. Then, her gaze traveled up Gu Yining’s arm until she met her eyes again.

Jiang Qing blinked and asked, “Where is this?”

The hand didn’t retract; it moved forward a few centimeters, stubbornly picking off the white fibers. “My house. My room.”

The speaking caused a tiny breeze, and the light fibers slid from her fingertips into the unknown. Seeing Jiang Qing lower her head as if thinking, Gu Yining tucked the quilt around her. “You have a fever. Stay here tonight.”

Jiang Qing kept her head down, her hair hiding her face. She didn’t say yes or no, so Gu Yining took it as silent consent. Gu Yining moved closer. “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?”

Jiang Qing hadn’t eaten dinner since leaving the study room. Between the motion sickness from the bus and the fever, she had no appetite. Even after sleeping for several hours, she felt empty but wanted nothing. She was about to shake her head when she heard Gu Yining’s voice: “I’ll have someone cook you a bowl of porridge.”

Jiang Qing had no choice but to say, “No need, I don’t want anything.”

Gu Yining leaned in closer, placing her hands on Jiang Qing’s shoulders. “You still need to eat something to line your stomach. If you don’t want to eat alone, I’ll join you. We can play rock-paper-scissors; whoever loses has to take a bite, okay?” Her voice was tender, her tone soothing, like she was coaxing a child.

Jiang Qing pursed her lips and thought self-destructively: Will Gu Yining have children? She probably will. In ten years, unless they spent their time in bed playing mahjong or the man was impotent, there would likely be a child. Her child would be as lively as Gu Yining, as beautiful, and as good at coaxing people. In her past life, Gu Yining was good at it, and now, her skills were even more refined. Jiang Qing couldn’t help but wonder: Is this a skill developed from raising a child?

Her heart throbbed with a sharp pain. Jiang Qing covered her chest, steadying her ragged breathing. “Fine. I’ll have the porridge.”

Gu Yining placed two pillows at the headboard and helped Jiang Qing lean back, then happily left the room. Soon, she returned with a bowl and set up a small bed tray. Jiang Qing didn’t play any games; she just quietly drank, not even using a spoon, simply pouring it down her throat. Gu Yining’s hand patted her back gently, her breath grazing the back of Jiang Qing’s neck. “Slow down, don’t choke.”

Jiang Qing leaned forward, silently moving away.

With a clack, Jiang Qing set the bowl on the tray. Her breathing was unsteady as she stared straight ahead into the air. Seeing her intensity, Gu Yining quickly pulled out a tissue. Before she could touch her, she heard a cold command: “Don’t touch me.”

Gu Yining froze, the tissue taken from her hand. She bit her lip, remembering their conversation in the car. Jiang Qing was just as sharp then, lashing out without restraint. She didn’t understand why, but she didn’t want to figure it out now. The most important thing was Jiang Qing’s health.

Gu Yining replied with a soft “Okay” and withdrew her hand. Then she heard Jiang Qing ask, “Do you think I’m crazy? That I’m unbelievable?”

Jiang Qing continued, “You kindly bring a classmate home, and she gives you no respect. She finishes your food while lying in your bed, and the next second she turns on you. If I had a classmate like that, I’d never speak to her again.”

Gu Yining stood up to clear the tray, handed it to a servant at the door, and returned to the bedside. She looked at Jiang Qing earnestly. “You aren’t a classmate. You’re Qingqing.”

She sat down, her temper impossibly good. “Qingqing, I know you’re sick. Let’s not fight, okay? If it makes you happy, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Gu Yining’s open-hearted tolerance only made Jiang Qing feel more despicable, like a gutter rat exposed to the sun. Lost, she could only lower her head to hide from the light, frantically trying to escape back into her own dark, damp territory.

“I’ve been sick for a long time, Gu Yining.” Her voice was low, like the buzzing of an insect. As long as she stayed near Gu Yining, her sickness would only get worse.

Gu Yining caught the keyword and grew tense. “What sickness? What are the symptoms? How long? Once your fever is gone, we’ll go for a full check-up.”

Jiang Qing forced a bitter smile. Knowing Gu Yining’s persistent nature, she explained, “Mhm, it’s just the fever. I’ve had it since this morning.” She tilted her head, looking up at Gu Yining. The dimples at the corners of her mouth deepened, but there was no smile in her eyes. “You just said that as long as I’m happy, you’ll do whatever I want?”

Gu Yining nodded. “As long as you’re happy.”

“Whatever I want…” Jiang Qing murmured. One hand slowly rose, slender fingers slightly curved as if to touch Gu Yining’s face.

Gu Yining sensed the movement and purpose, so she lowered her head and leaned into Jiang Qing’s palm. She tilted her head, rubbing her cheek against Jiang Qing’s fingers, then looked at her as if seeking approval.

Jiang Qing’s movements stiffened for a moment before she looked away. She pursed her lips, then turned her gaze back to Gu Yining’s face. The girl’s skin was perfect, like the first snow of winter—pure, bright, and flawless. Jiang Qing opened her palm, and that beautiful face naturally settled into it. A light touch, infinite smoothness.

Long, curled lashes framed eyes that were fixed entirely on Jiang Qing. Jiang Qing suddenly trembled. Then, with agonizing slowness, she moved closer to that face.

More specifically, she moved toward those ruby-red lips.

Jiang Qing could smell the fresh scent of body wash on Gu Yining. She knew she had just showered; there was no skincare or lipstick on her face. Yet, she felt those lips were unnaturally red, fresh and inviting, slightly parted as if beckoning her.

Jiang Qing drew closer. She saw the fine down on Gu Yining’s face and smelled the sweet fragrance. Their breaths mingled, turning from steady to ragged.

The rain outside seemed to have stopped.

Gu Yining said she would do anything. Jiang Qing couldn’t hear the rain anymore; she could only hear the sound of their shallow, heavy breathing.