I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The winter wind was biting, whipping the branches of the poplars by the hospital bus stop into a chaotic frenzy, adding a desolation to a place already defined by life, death, and separation.

The green bus pulled up steadily against the gale. Zuo Yin, wearing the Canada Goose parka Zuo Lan had bought her and carrying a plain black backpack, stepped off. She checked her phone; confirming she wasn’t late, she headed toward the hospital with brisk, purposeful strides.

Ever since she left the hospital yesterday, the image of Shen Qingzi’s hand with the IV needle had plagued her mind. After confirming with Sun Yuqing that Zhou Lin and the others wouldn’t be visiting today, Zuo Yin simply skipped her morning classes, brewed a pot of congee at home, and brought it over.

Although the atmosphere between them yesterday had been thick with lingering awkwardness, Zuo Yin couldn’t restrain her heart’s urge to visit. One thing has nothing to do with the other, she told herself. My teacher is sick; it’s only right for a student to visit. Having woven this plausible excuse for herself, she stepped into the crowded elevator.

Following her memory to the room, Zuo Yin knocked softly before cautiously pushing the door open. The warm air embraced her wind-flushed cheeks, like a silent welcome to an unannounced guest.

The private room was utterly silent. In the pure white environment, Shen Qingzi lay on the bed with her hands folded. Her silky long hair was spread across the pillow, and her face looked peaceful and serene. Her steady, rhythmic breathing moved the duvet up and down in a gentle cadence.

Shen Qingzi was asleep.

Zuo Yin’s footsteps grew even lighter, moving almost soundlessly to the bedside. The freshly made congee was stored in a thermal container; when she pulled it out of the insulated bag, the tightly sealed pot was still warm to the touch.

Not wanting to disturb Shen Qingzi’s rest, Zuo Yin sat quietly on the stool by the bed and felt for the sticky notes in her backpack. She decided she would wait for ten minutes. If Shen Qingzi didn’t wake up by then, she would leave a note and go.

In the silence of the room, Zuo Yin watched the sleeping woman and mentally scolded herself: “Pervert.”

This was the first time she had observed Shen Qingzi from such a close distance. Even on the morning after their reckless encounter, Shen Qingzi hadn’t given her such an opportunity. The room was well-sealed, blocking out the whistling wind and letting in only the bright, warm winter sun. Perhaps because of the wind, the sky was cloudless today, allowing the sunlight to spill over the world without reservation.

Bathed in this soft warmth, Shen Qingzi’s complexion looked much better than the pale ghost Zuo Yin had seen yesterday, though her slightly sunken cheeks still betrayed her exhaustion. She seemed to have just finished an IV drip; white medical tape remained on the back of her left hand. Even though the needle marks were hidden, Zuo Yin remembered exactly where they were and felt a phantom ache in her own heart.

Zhou Lin’s words from yesterday echoed in her ears, and guilt slowly washed over her. She shouldn’t have chosen to reveal her “inappropriate” feelings when Shen Qingzi was at her busiest, especially given her fragile health.

Zuo Yin studied her sleeping face—the brow was smooth and unburdened, a sense of relaxed ease mixed into her delicate fragility. She must be having a good dream. Am I in it? Zuo Yin shook her head. She likely wouldn’t bring Shen Qingzi any good dreams.

Time ticked by silently. Looking at her phone, Zuo Yin saw that fifteen minutes had passed. Despite her reluctance, she knew she couldn’t stay any longer. What would she say if Shen Qingzi woke up? Tell her she’d been staring at her sleep for twenty minutes? That would be crazy—crazier than the kiss that night.

As Zuo Yin stood up, her thin frame blocked a patch of sunlight. Sensing the change, Shen Qingzi knit her brows slightly and let out a soft mumble: “Mmm…?”

Zuo Yin froze instantly.

Under her gaze, Shen Qingzi slowly opened her eyes. When the girl in the black down jacket appeared in her field of vision, Shen Qingzi was startled. She recognized Zuo Yin in the first second, and her calm, steady heartbeat suddenly spiked for no reason.

“Zuo Yin?” Shen Qingzi called out.

“Mhm,” Zuo Yin nodded.

An indecipherable emotion flickered in Shen Qingzi’s eyes. Why is she here? How long has she been here? Did she see me sleeping? A strange, restless tension—different from their usual interactions—lingered in her heart, hazy and hard to define.

The feeling woke her up completely. She propped herself up and asked, “Xiao Yin, why are you here?”

“I heard Sister Zhou Lin was away on business and that a nurse was looking after you today. I thought I’d bring you some lunch. I heard it from Sister Yuqing; she knew I was coming.”

As soon as Zuo Yin finished her explanation—which was twice as long as anything she usually said—she saw Shen Qingzi break into a radiant smile. It was as if Zuo Yin had used up her entire day’s quota of words in one go.

For some reason, Shen Qingzi’s heart felt warmed, and the “peach blossoms” in her eyes bloomed with intensity. “Thank you for the hard work,” she said, her eyes curving into crescents.

“Would Teacher like to try some?” Zuo Yin asked, a rare spark of anticipation in her eyes.

Shen Qingzi nodded without hesitation. “Yes. There are clean bowls in the cabinet.”

Following her instructions, Zuo Yin took out a bowl and opened the thermal pot. The rice, already cooked to a soft silkiness, had become even more fragrant after being steamed in the heat of the container. The pearly white kernels gave off a sweet, wheaty aroma. As Shen Qingzi took the bowl, she was instantly captivated by the scent.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm,” Zuo Yin nodded, then added as if to explain, “When my mom had gastric bleeding, I learned how to make it from Auntie Zhang. It’s good for the stomach.”

Shen Qingzi nodded thoughtfully and took a slow spoonful. It wasn’t fancy like the ones she made; it was just a simple, home-cooked white congee. Yet, as she ate, every mouthful made her feel incredibly warm and satisfied. She couldn’t quite put it into words.

Under Zuo Yin’s watchful eye, Shen Qingzi ate nearly half a bowl. Zuo Yin didn’t receive much verbal praise, but seeing the woman eat the congee she had brewed, spoonful by spoonful, gave her a profound sense of fulfillment.

Halfway through, Shen Qingzi looked up. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Zuo Yin shook her head. “No.”

“Let’s eat together.” Shen Qingzi moved her bowl to the side, clearing half of the bed table in invitation.

Her voice was clear and steady, but in that moment, Zuo Yin felt as if she heard the sound of a crack forming in a sheet of spring ice. She didn’t refuse; she got a bowl for herself and sat at the table. She didn’t sit too close, carefully maintaining a clear boundary between them.

Shen Qingzi noticed this detail. Holding her bowl, she glanced at Zuo Yin, wanting to say something but feeling she lacked the right to do so. A jumble of emotions tangled in her heart, impossible to unravel.

Since Zuo Yin was naturally quiet, their lunch was silent to the extreme, feeling almost desolate in the large, empty room. Shen Qingzi watched her eating in silence and felt a sudden, inexplicable stifling sensation. She’s deliberately keeping her distance.

Shen Qingzi gathered her thoughts and spoke up. “The day before yesterday, my father and Teacher Xu came back from a sketching trip. They told me a very interesting story. Do you want to hear it?”

“What is it?” Zuo Yin asked, just as expected.

“They went to a village. They were very thirsty and thought the well water at the entrance would be drinkable, so they drew some from the front of an abandoned house. To their surprise, the water came up reddish-brown.” Shen Qingzi continued, “My father looked at the well and asked a passerby why the water was red. People were vague and wouldn’t say. Eventually, he heard from the village chief that the family had disturbed the mountain stones behind their old house and angered the mountain spirit. Not only did the water turn red like blood, but the family was cursed—all five died in a car accident while traveling, leaving only a young son to be raised by a mentally ill grandmother…”

Shen Qingzi’s voice rose and fell, matching the winter atmosphere. Zuo Yin found herself drawn in, completely immersed in the story. “What happened next?”

Shen Qingzi’s eyes crinkled. “My father thought it was just superstition. He paid some money to have a local lead him and Teacher Xu up the mountain.” She set her porcelain bowl on the table with a sharp clack, like a storyteller’s gavel.

“On the mountain, they discovered that the rocks the red water flowed from were iron-rich ore. When it rained, the water passing through the blasted rocks leached out red rust. My father guessed the family had accidentally disturbed those rocks when they cleared the land, and the car accident was pure coincidence.”

What started as a ghost story ended as a science lesson. Zuo Yin felt a sudden sense of anti-climax, the light in her eyes dimming slightly.

Sensing the story was a bit dull, Shen Qingzi added, “Father and Teacher Xu found that the blasted mountain stones can be used to make pigments. I’ll bring you a few tubes later.”

“Really?” Zuo Yin’s eyes lit up again. She knew those kinds of pigments were usually very expensive. She had wanted to try them for a long time but couldn’t afford them.

Seeing the stars return to Zuo Yin’s eyes, the corners of Shen Qingzi’s mouth lifted. “Of course.”

Admittedly, she wasn’t much of a storyteller, but she was a teacher who deeply favored her student. At that thought, a complicated light flashed in her eyes. She remembered giving that same answer to Zhou Lin yesterday.

But is Zuo Yin really just a “student” worth favoring? A questioning voice rang out in Shen Qingzi’s heart once more.