Shen Zhaoli looked at Wen Jiao’s slender ankle wrapped in bandages, his lips slightly raised, smiling, "Why do you look like a rice dumpling?" Wen Jiao really wanted to lift her foot and kick Shen Zhaoli. But considering she was currently a patient and didn’t want to aggravate her injury, she swallowed her anger and said, "Do you have no manners?" "Seeing you , you can’t soak in the hot spring either. Let’s just stay in the room," Shen Zhaoli said as he walked towards the TV, bending down at the TV cabinet, seemingly looking for something. Wen Jiao curiously asked, "What are you looking for?" "No way, who still watches discs these days?" Wen Jiao was a bit surprised, "Are you sure there are any?" "My brother stockpiled a lot of out-of-print movies for Bian Yue. Bian Yue likes to watch them," Shen Zhaoli said, pausing in his actions and indeed pulling out a few discs, "Want to watch?" Wen Jiao declined, "These movies are older than I am. Let’s watch something fresh." "What do you want to watch?" Wen Jiao said, "A thriller!" Shen Zhaoli snorted coldly, sizing Wen Jiao up and down, "Aren’t you scared?" "It’s you who should be scared, right?" Wen Jiao looked disdainfully at Shen Zhaoli, "Everyone knows you’re a scaredy-cat." Shen Zhaoli really couldn’t help but laugh. "Alright then, let’s watch a thriller." He turned on the TV and found a recent thriller release. A movie from Thailand, gruesomely bloody in its cinematography. "Their films really do have ghosts," Shen Zhaoli said eerily accompanied by the spooky background music. "Oh," Wen Jiao responded unfazed, "I know." As the movie got to its climax, both of them watched intently. Wen Jiao, clutching a pillow, sat on the edge of the bed, completely engrossed. Just as the ghost appeared in a flash, Wen Jiao’s face was just about to reveal her excitement, when suddenly she heard Shen Zhaoli scream next to her. Before Wen Jiao could even react, Shen Zhaoli had already plunged into her arms. Taking advantage of his good looks, he said innocently in Wen Jiao’s arms, "I’m scared." Wen Jiao’s mouth twitched, "Didn’t you just say you weren’t scared?" "I never said I wasn’t scared," Shen Zhaoli said solemnly, "I, a righteous and upstanding young man, have never seen such things before!" Wen Jiao nudged him, "Then you shouldn’t lie on my legs." "No can do," Shen Zhaoli said seriously, "I can’t sit still right now, too scary, I haven’t recovered yet." This ’recovery’ lasted until the movie ended. Feeling satisfied, Shen Zhaoli sat up and asked Wen Jiao if they should go find Bian Xiao and the others for dinner. Wen Jiao, massaging her numb legs, frowned, "I’m not hungry yet, let’s wait." Shen Zhaoli then squatted down and massaged Wen Jiao’s thighs. "Does this feel a bit better?" Wen Jiao silently watched Shen Zhaoli’s actions. Her gaze was complex, and after a long while, she finally said, "You were pretending just now, weren’t you?" Wen Jiao didn’t know what to say anymore. It was Shen Zhaoli who, seriously lifting his eyes towards her, asked, "When did your legs start feeling sore? Why didn’t you tell me?" Wen Jiao said, "You didn’t tell me about your arm being my pillow for an entire night, did you?" The atmosphere suddenly became very quiet. The smile at the corners of Shen Zhaoli’s lips deepened. He seriously looked at Wen Jiao and spoke again, his voice becoming very gentle, "Jiaojiao, you are really cute." Wen Jiao was rarely complimented as cute. "Oh." Wen Jiao stood up, saying uncomfortably, "You have good taste then, consider yourself sharp!" After dinner, Bian Xiao and Wen Yongwei quickly left the two behind and went to play. Now that they get along so well, the presence of Wen Jiao and Shen Zhaoli seemed rather superfluous. The two were left behind by the young and the old, with Shen Zhaoli smiling happily. Wen Jiao poked at the beef in her bowl, "You really don’t care, do you? Getting ditched and still so happy." "I also want to spend more time alone with you," Shen Zhaoli said casually, looking at Wen Jiao. He cut a few pieces of beef and put them in Wen Jiao’s plate, "Just the two of us, I think it’s nice." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NoveI-Fire.ɴet Wen Jiao looked at the extra beef in her bowl and asked casually, "What do you usually eat when you’re abroad?" Shen Zhaoli said, "I eat whatever is convenient." "Really?" queried Wen Jiao, "Are you used to it?" "Jiaojiao, you might not believe this, but I’ve even eaten spoiled rice before." The casual expression on Wen Jiao’s face suddenly became serious, and she looked at Shen Zhaoli with some guilt, after a long while, softly saying, "I’m sorry, I didn’t know what your past was like." Shen Zhaoli didn’t mind; he was even happy about Wen Jiao’s concern. At least it showed that she wasn’t completely indifferent to him. Thus, Shen Zhaoli seriously gazed into Wen Jiao’s eyes and asked very solemnly, "Do you want to know now?" Wen Jiao gripped the knife and fork in her hand tightly. After deciding several times in her heart, she finally said earnestly, "I want to know." The night at Hot Spring Villa was silent and tranquil, strictly not open to the public outside of Wen Jiao and the others, without any extra guests. The two walked on the deserted wooden bridge, under a lightly starry sky, surrounded by the chirps and calls of unknown insects. Wen Jiao heard Shen Zhaoli’s voice, mild and casual. He recounted in a flow, his tone devoid of much emotion, simply narrating. Shen Zhaoli was born in the year his mother had a difficult delivery, bleeding excessively, which left her with a chronic illness. Before Shen Shu acknowledged Shen Zhaoli, he lived with his mother in a foreign slum. Shen Zhaoli didn’t know his mother’s real name. They had moved many times, and each time, his mother would change their names. The last time, his mother was called Chen Lan. This name was of course false, but in that place, nobody cared about their real names. In fact, even slums have their hierarchies, and he and his mother were at the very bottom. They had no legal residence permits, and life abroad was extremely difficult. Shen Zhaoli survived on the money his mother made washing clothes for others, working from dawn to dusk, earning just enough for his baby formula. "I remember since I was young, my mother never wore a nice piece of clothing. She always wore others’ discarded rags, and there were always injuries on her face. She was often bullied, a mother and son alone, easy targets wherever they went, and every time, when it became unbearable, she would move us. We didn’t have much luggage, so each time we moved, we took very little with us, and eventually... it became less and less." Wen Jiao didn’t know when she had stopped walking, standing on the Mufeng bridge and looking at Shen Zhaoli’s calm profile, her heart was indescribably shaken. His life had been far more difficult than she could have ever imagined, even more dismal than she could comprehend.