At six-thirty, the alarm gave the gentlest buzz, and Xiao Wanqing stirred instantly, alert as ever. She switched it off before it could ring again. Glancing over at Lin Xian, she was relieved to see the girl still fast asleep, undisturbed.

  Xiao Wanqing sat upright, lightly kneading her sore neck—likely strained from staying in an awkward position too long. Then, she reached out and gently touched Lin Xian’s forehead. Thankfully, the fever had subsided.

  She couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching the girl sleep so peacefully, her face fresh and serene like a well-behaved little angel. The corners of Xiao Wanqing’s lips curved into a soft, comforted smile, and she whispered with playful affection, “Little troublemaker.” Though she scolded her lightly, her hand moved with all the tenderness in the world—pulling the blanket up just a little, tucking in the edges to keep her snug—before quietly leaving the room to make breakfast.

  By eight o’clock, the gentle aroma of corn and mushroom porridge wafted through the kitchen. Once it had cooled slightly in the bowl, Xiao Wanqing went back to Lin Xian’s room, bringing along a basin, towel, toothbrush, and cup.

  When Lin Xian opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Xiao Wanqing standing at her bedside—her toothbrush in one hand, her cup in the other. On the nightstand sat a basin. She blinked, confused.

  She sat up in a rush, rubbing her eyes as she greeted her, “Good morning, Aunt Xiao. This is…”

  Xiao Wanqing smiled softly and handed her the toothbrush and cup. “Still feeling unwell? Go wash up, then come eat something.”

  Lin Xian obediently took them, shaking her head. “Much better now.” With her toothbrush already in her mouth, she was just about to hop off the bed when she noticed Xiao Wanqing picking up the basin and bringing it over, looking like she was ready to catch the water she was about to spit out?

  Lin Xian was half-amused, half-embarrassed. She took the toothbrush out, toothpaste still foaming on her cheeks, making her words muffled but clear in meaning: “Aunt Xiao, I can go to the bathroom myself. I’m really fine.” Before Xiao Wanqing could say anything else, she had already darted out the room, toothbrush and cup in hand, feet pattering across the floor.

  Xiao Wanqing watched her go, her smile helpless but full of fondness. She set the basin down, grabbed the towel, then opened Lin Xian’s wardrobe and took out a light jacket. With brisk steps, she followed her out toward the bathroom.

  During breakfast, Xiao Wanqing noticed that Lin Xian wasn’t eating quite like usual—her appetite seemed off. She guessed she still wasn’t feeling great. After a pause, she set her spoon down and gently drew Lin Xian’s attention.

  “Xianxian, did you notice that the bowl you’re using this morning is a little different from before?”

  Lin Xian looked down and studied the porcelain bowl, confused. “It… looks pretty much the same?”

  Xiao Wanqing gave a mysterious little wink. “It’s not. When I heard you’d be coming during summer break, I had this custom-made—meant to be a little gift to welcome you. But I forgot all about it. There’s a special design at the bottom.”

  Intrigued, Lin Xian eagerly picked up the bowl and peered into it—only to find… nothing. Just a blank base. She blinked and looked back up, disappointed. “There’s nothing there.”

  Watching her little brows furrow with frustration, Xiao Wanqing chuckled. “It’s on the inside bottom of the bowl. You have to finish your porridge to see it.”

  Lin Xian made a little noise—“Eek”—then fell silent and began eating seriously, head down and focused like it was her life’s mission.

  Xiao Wanqing watched her with eyes soft and glinting with amusement.

  Soon enough, Lin Xian finished every last spoonful and was rewarded with the surprise: at the bottom of the bowl was a cartoon version of herself, cheerful and sweet, next to soft gradient letters in yellow-green that read, Welcome, Little Lin Xian.

  Her lips lifted immediately into a bright, delighted smile. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Xiao Wanqing. “It’s so cute! Did you design it?”

  Xiao Wanqing blinked and nodded. “Mm-hmm. Does it look like you?”

  Lin Xian nodded furiously, but then frowned a little in confusion. “But during summer break… you hadn’t even seen what I looked like yet?”

  Xiao Wanqing let out a laugh, teasing, “And how do you know I hadn’t?”

  Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “You’ve been saying you were going to marry me since you were a kid, little cutie. Of course I had to keep an eye on you, make sure my future wife wasn’t growing up all weird.”

  Lin Xian’s face flushed red on the spot. She pouted, half embarrassed, half flustered. “Aunt Xiao, you promised not to bring that up again! We said whoever mentions it again is a puppy—and now you’re breaking your promise!”

  Xiao Wanqing realized she’d gotten carried away. Upon hearing that, her smile faded and she lowered her eyes in apology. “You’re right, I did say that. I’m sorry—I forgot. That was my mistake.”

  Lin Xian was taken aback by the seriousness of her apology and quickly waved her hands in panic. “No, no, it’s okay! I was just joking, I didn’t really mind. You don’t have to apologize.”

  Xiao Wanqing studied her closely, only relaxing when she was sure Lin Xian wasn’t truly upset. She smiled again. “But still, I broke the rule. And we agreed, didn’t we? Whoever brings it up again is a puppy. I accept my punishment.”

  Lin Xian looked at her, confused about what kind of punishment she meant—when suddenly, she heard a soft voice beside her go:

  “Woof. Woof. Woof…”

  Her eyes widened. Then, the next second, her mouth opened, and a silver-bell laugh spilled out like music, echoing through the dining room. Her eyes squinted into happy little crescents, and from the corner of her vision, she caught a glimpse of Xiao Wanqing’s fair face, just faintly flushed.

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  “You’re blushing, Aunt Xiao. So cute…”

  Xiao Wanqing hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, and hearing Lin Xian’s laughter, she actually started to feel embarrassed. Her face grew even redder.

  She cleared her throat, trying to brush it off. “It’s just hot from eating. ‘Cute’ really doesn’t suit someone my age.”

  “Who says?” Lin Xian retorted firmly. “You’re the cutest person I’ve ever seen. No one compares.”

  The words slipped out too easily. The moment she said them, Lin Xian realized how bold it sounded. Her face heated up instantly, cheeks flushed, ears warm.

  Xiao Wanqing, ever perceptive, immediately noticed the red creeping up her ears. She smirked and struck back, “Lin Xian, you’re blushing too. Your ears are practically cooked.”

  Lin Xian bit her lip, trying to sound casual. “That might be… leftover from the fever.”

  But the moment the words left her lips, she saw Xiao Wanqing’s expression shift. Her smile disappeared, eyes darkening. She stood up and walked straight over.

  Only then did Lin Xian realize what she’d said. “I didn’t mean it! Aunt Xiao, I’m fine—really!”

  But Xiao Wanqing didn’t trust her self-assessment. She reached out to feel her forehead herself.

  Lin Xian tried to reassure her, “See? It’s nothing—”

  But Xiao Wanqing’s voice came low and serious from above her head. “Lin Xian… you’ve got a fever. It’s even worse than yesterday.”

  Lin Xian’s smile froze.

  Xiao Wanqing fetched the thermometer. As expected, the fever had risen—39.3 degrees.

  How could this happen?

  Xiao Wanqing’s expression instantly dimmed. She looked at Lin Xian, who was still trying to comfort her as if nothing had happened, and felt a sharp pang in her heart—painful, anxious. She couldn’t help but reach out and touch Lin Xian’s face, scolding her with a trace of tenderness, “Why are you so silly? Burning up like this, and you don’t even realize you’re unwell?”

  Lin Xian couldn’t bear to see Xiao Wanqing so worried. In a panic, she tried to reassure her, “I really don’t feel bad, I’m okay. Don’t worry, I might feel better soon.”

  But burning like this—how could she possibly be okay?

  Xiao Wanqing looked at her with concern, brows furrowing. Then, with resolve, she said, “This won’t do. You stay home. I’ll go see if any pharmacies nearby are still open. At the very least, I can get some medicine to bring your fever down.”

  Lin Xian immediately jumped up in protest. “No way! It’s storming out there. How can you go out in this weather? And with such a huge typhoon, everything must be shut down—there’s no way any pharmacies are still open.” She pulled Xiao Wanqing to the balcony’s glass doors, trying to show her just how bad the storm was, hoping to dissuade her from such a dangerous idea.

  Outside, the wind howled, and the rain slashed sideways, devouring the sky. Even as they spoke, a large tree across the street was split, its branches scattered across the ground.

  But Xiao Wanqing acted like it didn’t matter. She simply turned around, softly reassuring Lin Xian, “We have to try. There might be one still open. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” while walking calmly to the entryway. She opened the closet, pulled out a raincoat and rain pants, and began putting them on.

  Lin Xian gripped her hand tightly, tugging at the rain gear, refusing to let her go no matter what.

  Xiao Wanqing had no choice but to walk back toward the living room with the rain gear half-on, compromising, “Alright then. Lin Xian, go to the bathroom and use warm water to wipe yourself down. Maybe that’ll help bring your fever down a little. If it works, I won’t go out, okay?”

  Lin Xian didn’t hesitate at all upon hearing that compromise. Though she wasn’t sure it would help, she figured it could buy them some time. “Okay, just don’t go. I’ll do it now.”

  Xiao Wanqing started walking toward Lin Xian’s bedroom, her voice gentle, “I won’t go. You go wipe yourself down, and I’ll check the room to see if we have any medicine, alright?”

  Lin Xian wasn’t fully convinced by her tone and worried she might slip out. But seeing how unusually serious and solemn Xiao Wanqing looked, she dismissed her doubts and nodded, “Okay.” With that, she turned and headed to the bathroom.

  But just as she entered the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and was about to soak a towel in hot water, she suddenly heard a firm click—the sound of a door being shut and locked.

  Her heart jumped. She didn’t even bother putting on her T-shirt again. She grabbed a tank top, pulled it over her head, and bolted out.

  The living room was empty.

  She rushed to the door, tried to open it—locked. Xiao Wanqing had locked her in from the outside.

  Her warm voice came through the heavy metal door, muffled but clear: “Stay at home and wait for me. I’ll be back soon. If you’re tired, take a nap. When you wake up, I’ll be right beside you. Don’t worry.”

  Lin Xian’s panic surged. She tugged at the doorknob, searched for the keys—but they were gone. Xiao Wanqing must’ve taken them with her.

  Her eyes turned red instantly. She yelled toward the door, voice cracking, “Aunt Xiao, come back! Aunt Xiao… Xiao Wanqing, come back! I told you I’m fine—how could I not worry? How can you ask me not to worry? Come back!”

  But outside, there was only silence. Xiao Wanqing was clearly gone.

  Lin Xian ran to her bedroom, hoping to find her spare key, but it had vanished from the nightstand—it had been taken.

  Angry and desperate, she bit her lip hard, dashed back to the living room, and stood at the window.

  Down below, she saw Xiao Wanqing’s slim figure slowly stepping into the storm. The wild wind tossed her once-neat hair into a mess, and the rain soaked through her raincoat and into her clothes. Even from this distance, Lin Xian could see her body was entirely drenched. She looked like those pitiful trees, traffic lights, and signboards—swaying helplessly in the storm. Just as she neared the complex’s gate, Xiao Wanqing seemed to slip and stumbled hard, falling to her knees. But she quickly got back up.

  Lin Xian couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. They spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably.

  Xiao Wanqing was soaked to the bone. Rain lashed her face, making it hard to even open her eyes. She stumbled through the storm to a nearby pharmacy, only to find—just as Lin Xian had said—it was closed.

  Not just that pharmacy. The whole street was shut down. Every store had its doors tightly locked. The street was deserted. Water had risen up to Xiao Wanqing’s calves.

  She stood in the rain, biting her lower lip tightly, her expression lost. With pharmacies shut and hospitals unreachable… what now?

  Then her phone rang. It was Wen Tong.

  Wen Tong warned her, “The typhoon made landfall in our city yesterday. The center wind force hit level sixteen. Everything’s shut down for three days. Are you okay? Are the windows at home holding up? Lin Xian’s school is definitely closed. Just make do with meals, don’t go out unless you have to.”

  Xiao Wanqing’s voice was low and dull. “I’ve already gone out. Lin Xian has a high fever. I wanted to get her some medicine, but all the pharmacies are closed…”

  Wen Tong immediately grew frustrated and scolded her, “You went out to get medicine now? Do you think everyone’s as reckless as you? Xiao Wanqing, are you dumb? Can’t you be flexible for once and depend on someone else for a change? Everyone keeps cold medicine at home! Knock on a few doors, say thank you—don’t tell me no one would help you!”

  Before she could finish, Xiao Wanqing suddenly cut her off like a thunderclap of realization. “Wen Tong, thank you for the reminder.” Then—beep beep beep—the call ended.

  Wen Tong was so angry she nearly threw her phone.

  By the time Xiao Wanqing stumbled back home with medicine in hand, soaked and battered, the moment the door opened, Lin Xian rushed into her arms, hugging her tightly around the waist.

  Xiao Wanqing tried to pull away, worried. “I’m soaked. Don’t get your clothes wet, you’ll only get sicker…”

  But Lin Xian wasn’t listening. She suddenly burst into sobs, gasping for breath, voice hoarse from crying. “You lied to me, Xiao Wanqing! You liar… do you even know how worried I was… You’re a liar, a dummy, an idiot…”

  Xiao Wanqing looked down at the fluffy head buried in her chest, listened to the girl’s broken cries and accusations, and suddenly—her heart softened.

  She reached out and gently, awkwardly returned the hug, whispering, “Don’t cry. You’re making my clothes even wetter.”

  The next moment, Lin Xian lifted her head and looked up at her—half laughing, half crying.

  Xiao Wanqing lowered her gaze to meet hers, eyes soft as spring rain, her voice utterly sincere: “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have made you worry.”