She’s Being Naughty - Chapter 7

After the pool party, Xu Zhaoyi avoided Jiang Yao for several days.

It wasn’t a deliberate disappearance, she just didn’t want to run into her. She woke up late on purpose, intentionally skipped meals, and retreated to her room early each night, locking the door and seeing no one.

That message from that night. “I miss you so much” was like a time bomb hanging over her heart. Every time she thought of it, she felt restless and unsettled.

What did Jiang Yao’s “Mm” actually mean?

Was it mockery?

Did she think Zhaoyi was just playing games?

Or was it… something else?

Xu Zhaoyi couldn’t figure it out, and she didn’t dare dwell on it.

On Thursday afternoon, Zhou Xiaoxiao called to say there was an event at a racing club and asked if she wanted to go.

Xu Zhaoyi, feeling suffocated by her own thoughts, agreed without a second thought.

The event was at a racing track on the outskirts of the city, and quite a few people had shown up. Some were old club members, others were young people like Xu Zhaoyi who had been dragged along by friends to join the fun.

The track wasn’t long, but it was full of turns, making it quite a test of skill.

When Xu Zhaoyi finished a lap and returned, her face was slightly pale.

The instructor in the car with her said she drove too wildly, she didn’t slow down for the corners and nearly spun off the track.

“Got something on your mind?” The instructor, a straightforward man in his forties, remarked, “Don’t think about the ‘this and thats’ when you’re driving. It’s easy to have an accident.”

Xu Zhaoyi didn’t say anything. She took a bottle of mineral water from someone nearby and gulped it down.

“Forget it,” Zhou Xiaoxiao said, seeing her pale complexion as she patted her shoulder. “No more driving. Let’s go grab dinner and sing some karaoke to relax.”

The gathering lasted until after ten at night.

When they came out, it was raining.

It wasn’t heavy, just a fine, dense mist and the streetlights blurred into hazy halos through the drizzle.

“Great, I didn’t bring an umbrella.” Zhou Xiaoxiao looked at the sky, feeling frustrated. “Should we call a cab back?”

“Forget it, I’ll drive you,” Xu Zhaoyi pulled out her car keys. “It’s on my way anyway.”

Zhou Xiaoxiao’s house wasn’t far, it was only a ten minute drive.

After dropping her off, Xu Zhaoyi didn’t go straight home.

She drove aimlessly through the rainy night streets.

The rain grew heavier, turning from fine silk into beads that hammered against the car window with a pitter-patter rhythm. The windshield wipers swung back and forth, making her vision flicker between clear and blurred.

There weren’t many cars on the road. Most of the shops along the street were closed, leaving only convenience stores and 24-hour fast food joints with their lights still on.

As she drove, Xu Zhaoyi’s mind was a mess.

One moment, it was the image of Jiang Yao raising a glass on the second floor balcony during the pool party.

The next, it was that simple “Mm” on her phone screen.

Then, it was that burgundy nightgown, vacuum-sealed and hidden under her bed.

Her foot on the accelerator grew heavier without her realizing it.

The speed climbed rapidly, the speedometer needle soaring from eighty all the way to a hundred and twenty.

The streetlights and neon signs blurred into long ribbons of light in the rainy night, retreating rapidly past the windows.

The rain was too heavy, and the road was slick.

At a sharp turn, she jerked the steering wheel. The tires lost their grip, and the car fishtailed half a turn before narrowly coming to a stop by the roadside.

The piercing screech of the brakes was swallowed by the sound of the rain.

Xu Zhaoyi slumped over the steering wheel, her heart thumping wildly, her palms drenched in cold sweat.

Just a little more.

She had been just a fraction away from hitting the guardrail.

Outside the window, the rain continued to fall, slamming into the roof so hard it sounded like it might punch through the metal.

She lay against the wheel with her eyes closed, listening to the rain and the frantic rhythm of her own heartbeat.

It took a long time before she sat up straight and restarted the car.

This time she drove very slowly, crawling through the rainy night like a snail.

When she finally got home, it was nearly one in the morning.

The villa was pitched in darkness, save for a single sensor light by the entrance.

Xu Zhaoyi parked the car and dashed out into the rain.

The rain was torrential. In the short distance from the garage to the door, she was soaked to the bone.

Her hair clung to her face, her wet clothes wrapped tightly around her body, and her shoes were filled with water, making a squelching sound with every step.

She wiped the rain from her face and reached out to push the door.

It wasn’t locked.

The living room was dark, with only the faint glow of a nightlight on the wall.

She fumbled to turn on the foyer light, kicked off her soaked shoes, and walked inside barefoot.

The marble floor was ice-cold, sending a chill crawling up from the soles of her feet.

She shivered.

When she reached the stairs, her footsteps suddenly stopped.

There was light on the second floor.

The light in Jiang Yao’s room was still on.

It was this late, was she still awake?

Xu Zhaoyi hesitated for a moment but began to head upstairs anyway.

Her sodden dress clung to her legs, feeling heavy and making every step a struggle. Water dripped from her hem, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stairs.

As she reached the second floor, she was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness.

Her vision went black for a moment, and her footing felt unsteady.

She reached out to steady herself against the wall, barely managing to stay upright.

Her forehead was burning.

It might have been from the rain, the scare while driving, or… the fact that she hadn’t slept well in days.

Regardless, her head was buzzing, her body was freezing, yet she felt like she was on fire.

She leaned against the wall, shuffling step by step toward her own door. But when she placed her hand on the doorknob, she found she didn’t even have the strength to turn it.

Her body went limp, and she nearly slid to the floor.

Just then, she heard the sound of a door opening behind her.

Then came footsteps.

Soft, gentle footsteps.

Xu Zhaoyi turned her head instinctively.

At the end of the hallway, Jiang Yao had stepped out of her room.

She was still wearing that light pink silk robe, her hair flowing loose and face free of makeup. Her skin looked transparently pale under the dim hallway lights.

“Zhaozhao?” There was a hint of surprise in her voice as she hurried over. “How did you get… so wet?”

Xu Zhaoyi wanted to say something, but though her lips moved, no sound came out.

Her consciousness began to blur, and Jiang Yao’s face in front of her became fuzzy, as if viewed through a thick mist.

“Do you have a fever?” Jiang Yao reached out to touch her forehead, her brow furrowing. “You’re so hot.”

Her hand was cool, and it felt incredibly soothing against Zhaoyi’s burning forehead.

Xu Zhaoyi instinctively leaned into her hand.

And then, she knew nothing more.

When she woke up again, it seemed to be the middle of the night.

Only a bedside lamp was on, filling the room with a dim, amber glow.

Xu Zhaoyi opened her eyes groarily, feeling like her whole body was in pain. Her head throbbed, her throat stung, and even her bones ached.

She wanted to speak, but her voice was too hoarse to make a sound.

“You’re awake?” someone whispered softly in her ear.

The voice was tender and light, like a feather brushing against her eardrum.

Then, a warm towel was pressed against her forehead.

It was warm and damp, resting over her feverish skin. Xu Zhaoyi let out a soft hum of comfort.

“Drink some water,” the person spoke again. One hand gently propped up her head, while the other held a glass of water to her lips.

Her lips were parched, the moment they touched the water, she instinctively opened her mouth to drink. The lukewarm water slid down her throat, slightly easing the dryness. She drank half a glass before she wanted to stop.

“Drink a little more,” the person coaxed softly. “You need plenty of fluids when you have a fever.”

Her voice is so beautiful, Xu Zhaoyi thought hazily, her eyes still closed.

After a few more sips, the glass was taken away. Then, two tablets were placed in her mouth, bitter. Her instinct was to spit them out, but a hand gently supported her chin.

“Swallow them,” the voice said. “It’s for the fever.”

The pills began to dissolve, the bitterness making her frown, but she obediently swallowed them anyway. Once the medicine was down, her forehead was treated to a fresh, warm towel.

Xu Zhaoyi nuzzled into her pillow comfortably, her eyes half-open as she looked at the person sitting by her bedside.

The woman sat with her head lowered, long hair cascading down and obscuring half her face. Only the straight bridge of her nose and her slightly pursed lips were visible.

It was Jiang Yao.

Xu Zhaoyi’s mind was still clouded, but she reached out unconsciously and caught Jiang Yao’s wrist. Her wrist was slender, and her skin felt cool.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled, her voice terribly raspy.

Jiang Yao’s movements paused for a beat before she lightly patted the back of Zhaoyi’s hand. “I’m not going. Go to sleep.”

Only then did Xu Zhaoyi close her eyes, holding onto that hand as she drifted back into a deep sleep. This time, her rest was much more peaceful.

When she woke up again, it was daylight.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting a golden streak across the floor. Xu Zhaoyi opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long while before she slowly regained her senses.

Her body was still weak, but the aching soreness had subsided significantly, and her forehead no longer felt scorched.

As she sat up, she noticed a glass of water on the nightstand next to a small pillbox containing a few tablets. Tucked underneath was a note.

“Take your medicine when you wake up, and drink plenty of water.”

The handwriting was elegant and neat, it had to be from Jiang Yao.

She reached for the glass, the water was still lukewarm, neither too hot nor too cold. After drinking half of it, she pulled back the covers and got out of bed. She realized she was wearing clean pajamas, meaning she must have been changed during the night.

Did Jiang Yao change me?

The thought made her face flush again. She shook her head to dispel the chaotic thoughts and walked over to the window to draw the curtains.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The sky looked as if it had been washed clean, a brilliant azure blue. The sunlight was beautiful, catching the water droplets on the garden plants and making them shimmer.

A faint sound came from downstairs.

She pushed open her door and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. In the kitchen, Jiang Yao was cooking porridge. She was dressed in cream-colored loungewear, her hair loosely tied back. One hand held a ladle while the other rested on the counter, she was leaning slightly to the side, lost in thought.

The morning light streamed through the window, lining her silhouette with a faint golden glow. Xu Zhaoyi stood there, watching her for a long time.

Suddenly, Jiang Yao turned around. Seeing her standing on the stairs, Jiang Yao blinked in surprise, then smiled. “You’re awake?”

Xu Zhaoyi nodded.

“Still have a fever?” Jiang Yao took off her apron and walked out of the kitchen, looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs.

Xu Zhaoyi shook her head.

“That’s good.” Jiang Yao walked up and reached out as if to touch her forehead, but she pulled her hand back halfway. “Don’t get caught in the rain again.”

Her voice was gentle, and her gaze was tender. Xu Zhaoyi felt her heart tighten sharply, as if someone had lightly squeezed it.

Thump-thump-thump.

Her heart skipped a beat, then began to race frantically.

“Are you hungry?” Jiang Yao asked. “I made some porridge. Do you want some?”

Xu Zhaoyi opened her mouth to say something, but her throat felt tight, and she couldn’t find the words. She could only nod.

“Come down then,” Jiang Yao turned to lead the way. “I’ll serve you a bowl.”

Xu Zhaoyi followed her down, her eyes fixed on Jiang Yao’s back. Jiang Yao’s loungewear was loose, yet it couldn’t hide her slender waist. Her loosely gathered hair revealed the pale nape of her neck. She walked slowly with steady, graceful steps, her silhouette looked like a painting.

In the kitchen, Jiang Yao served a bowl of porridge and some side dishes, placing them on the dining table.

“Eat up.” She sat across from her, resting her chin on her hands, watching her.

Xu Zhaoyi sat down and began to sip the porridge in small mouthfuls. It was well-cooked, mixed with a bit of minced meat and greens, light and savory.

“Thank you,” she finally found her voice and whispered.

Jiang Yao paused, then smiled. “Thank me for what?”

“For… taking care of me last night.” Xu Zhaoyi kept her head down, not daring to look up.

“It was the right thing to do,” Jiang Yao said softly. “I couldn’t just let you stay sick all by yourself.”

She said it so naturally, as if taking care of a sick child was the most normal thing in the world. But inside, Xu Zhaoyi felt a strange sensation. It was itchy, tingly, and a little bit bittersweet. She couldn’t quite put a name to it.

“Your father worked overtime at the office last night and didn’t come home,” Jiang Yao added. “I sent him a message saying you had a fever. He said he’ll be back early this afternoon.”

Xu Zhaoyi gave a soft “Mm.”

The dining room fell quiet, save for the sound of her eating. The sunlight outside was perfect, spilling onto the table with a cozy warmth. Jiang Yao just sat there, watching her eat with a gentle gaze and a faint trace of a smile.

Feeling a bit self-conscious under the scrutiny, Xu Zhaoyi finished the rest of her bowl quickly.

“Do you want more?” Jiang Yao asked.

She shook her head.

“Go lie down then and get some more sleep.” Jiang Yao stood up to clear the dishes. “You haven’t taken your medicine yet, right? Remember to take it.”

Xu Zhaoyi stood up and headed back upstairs. When she reached the landing, she suddenly stopped and glanced back.

Jiang Yao was standing by the kitchen sink washing dishes with her back turned. The morning light poured in, framing her in a soft halo of light. Xu Zhaoyi stared at her back for a few seconds before finally turning to go to her room.

Back in her room, she picked up the medicine from the table and swallowed it with water. The pills were bitter, making her wince. Then, she picked up the note again.

“Take your medicine when you wake up, and drink plenty of water.”

The characters were elegant and upright, just like Jiang Yao herself: clean, gentle, and yet… impossible to read.

She folded the note and placed it in her nightstand drawer before lying back down. Outside, the sun was bright and birds were singing, but she couldn’t fall back asleep.

Her mind was filled with everything from the previous night.

The warm towel, the glass of water, the two bitter pills. The cool touch of Jiang Yao’s skin when she grabbed her wrist.

And that phrase: “Don’t go.”

Xu Zhaoyi buried her face in her pillow and took a deep breath. There was a faint scent on the pillow, a little sweet, a little cool.

It was the scent of Jiang Yao.