The baby slapped me, and I said, "Sit on my lap and slap me."

My phone suddenly rang; it was a message from Jiang Shubai.

Jiang Shubai: "How was it? Pretty good cooperation, buddy? 100,000 yuan to have your wife come see you, is it worth it?"

Wen Yu tapped his finger lightly, "Worth it."

Jiang Shubai: "But I have to say, did you really sprain your ankle? It looked painful to watch."

Money Tree: "Really."

Jiang Shubai: "...You're ruthless."

Wen Yu didn't reply. His gaze turned to the figure queuing in front of the pharmacy window. The light fell on her hair, creating a soft, diffused edge.

It's a real sprain, a real ligament strain.

From the moment he decided to use the self-inflicted injury ruse, he had no intention of faking it.

Only real pain could earn her genuine concern, and Su Qingyao's concern was more precious to him than anything else.

On the way back, Wenyu quietly closed his eyes to rest.

The painkiller slowly took effect, his breathing became gentle, and the usual arrogance and sharpness between his brows faded, revealing a rare fragility and softness.

Su Qingyao quietly turned her head to look at him.

My gaze fell on the conspicuous ankle brace on his left leg, and I heard the doctor's words again: "mild to moderate ligament strain."

She looked down, picked up her phone, and tapped the screen with her fingertips, searching for the recovery process.

Ice packs, massage, rehabilitation, customized training...

Watching the complicated recovery process, a hint of heartache, which she herself did not even realize, showed in her eyes.

The car slowly came to a stop in front of the dormitory building, just as Wen Yu woke up.

"I'll take you up," he said, reaching for the car door and making a move to turn the wheelchair around.

"Don't move." Su Qingyao gently pressed his hand down. "The doctor said you need to rest. I can go back by myself."

Wen Yu lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes concealing the turbulent emotions surging within them.

"Baby."

His voice was low, as if veiled by a thin mist, "Do you...hate me?"

Su Qingyao was taken aback. "How could this be...?"

"You've been avoiding me these past few days."

He looked up, and in the dim light inside the car, his peach blossom eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of moist light, clearly reflecting her image.

"Did I do something wrong that made you unhappy?"

Su Qingyao felt a burning sensation in her heart and quickly avoided his gaze.

"No, it's just that I've been a bit busy lately."

Wen Yu's lips curled up slightly, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."

He looked at her, his voice soft as if showing weakness, yet also carrying a cautious probing tone.

"I'm fine with anything as long as my baby doesn't dislike me."

"Um...."

After a moment of silence, Su Qingyao, somewhat at a loss, finally spoke, "I'm leaving now."

She was about to turn and leave when her wrist was gently grasped.

Wen Yu's fingertips lingered on her skin for a moment, the temperature slightly hot.

"Baby, will I be able to see you again tomorrow?"

Su Qingyao remained silent for a few seconds.

Looking into the pleading expectation in his eyes, I ultimately couldn't bring myself to harden my heart.

"I don't have classes tomorrow afternoon. If you need ice or to change your dressing, I can help."

Wen Yu's eyes suddenly lit up. "Okay."

He released her hand, his fingertips lingering on her palm. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

Su Qingyao responded softly and got out of the car.

The night breeze was slightly cool. She took a few steps, then couldn't help but turn back.

Inside the car window, Wen Yu was still quietly watching her, his figure clearly and lonely, outlined by the streetlights.

Goodnight, baby.

"……Good night."

Su Qingyao turned and walked into the dormitory building. Only when she stepped onto the stairs did she realize that she had been holding her breath the whole time.

Inside the car, Wen Yu stared at the stairwell where her figure disappeared for a long time before slowly rolling up the car window.

He looked down at his left ankle, which was wrapped in heavy bandages, and the vulnerability on his face disappeared.

Instead, a deep, faint smile appeared.

This is truly the wisdom of the ancients; the self-inflicted injury strategy is effective.

-

In the dormitory, Su Qingyao leaned against the headboard, the light from her phone screen illuminating her profile.

She looked at the message Wen Yu had sent not long ago, her fingertips swiping up to browse through the past chat history one by one.

There were concerned inquiries, flustered attempts to cover up, teasing jokes, and subtle tenderness wrapped in his nonchalance.

And the way he looked at me with restrained emotion when we parted today.

Zhang Miaoke came out of the bathroom with a face mask on. She caught a glimpse of her absent-minded look and leaned closer to look at the lit screen.

"Oh, Yaoyao, still thinking about your Mr. Wen?"

Su Qingyao subconsciously locked her screen. "No."

Zhang Miaoke lifted a corner of the face mask, sat down beside her bed, and softened her voice.

"You've been so distracted since you came home tonight, what's wrong?"

Su Qingyao was silent for a moment, then asked in a low voice, "Miaoke, what kind of person do you think Wen Yu is?"

"I've heard many rumors about him."

Zhang Miaoke tilted her head and thought for a moment, "For example, he's unapproachable, unruly, and unapproachable... there are too many, but I've never really spent time with him, so I don't know exactly what he's like."

She paused, her voice becoming softer and more earnest, "But I know what you're worried about, Yaoyao. You shouldn't deny yourself because of the past; those things weren't your fault."

"You're great, much better than you think."

Her gaze was gentle yet firm. "Rumors are sometimes unreliable, and what you hear is not necessarily the whole story."

After saying that, she gently peeled off the face mask and looked at Su Qingyao with a serious expression.

"If you really care about Wenyu, you should give him a chance, and give yourself a chance too. Use your eyes to see and your heart to feel what kind of person he really is."

Su Qingyao lowered her eyes, unsure how to answer.

Zhang Miaoke suddenly laughed again, her tone becoming light and slightly mischievous.

"Besides, don't you think it's kind of cute that Young Master Wen acts so arrogant and domineering in front of others, but so cautious and timid around you?"

"..."

"Okay, okay, I won't tease you anymore."

Zhang Miaoke stood up, walked back to her desk, and then turned back and winked.

"But if you're going to take care of him tomorrow, remember to dress nicely—he's a patient, and a good mood helps him recover faster!"

Su Qingyao grabbed a pillow as if to throw it, "Zhang Miaoke!"

"Oh dear, you're getting angry out of embarrassment!"

The laughter and chatter broke the stagnant atmosphere in the dormitory.

Once Zhang Miaoke climbed into bed and the surroundings quieted down again, Su Qingyao turned on her phone once more.

She opened Wenyu's chat window, and the cursor blinked in the input field for a long time.

In the end, nothing was sent.