Cao Xihe remained silent for a long time.
Cheng Liao considered leaving, but when she lifted her foot, she accidentally bumped into the decorative tree by the wall. Her ankle struck the cloisonné flowerpot with a loud thud, causing the two people at the end of the corridor to turn around simultaneously.
“I was just passing by…”
Cheng Liao winced in pain, seeing stars as she forced a smile, but couldn’t hold back her tears. She quickly wiped them away, feeling quite embarrassed.
Cao Xihe shrugged and walked away.
As Sheng Jingchu walked past Cheng Liao, he paused.
There was still a trace of anger lingering around him, faint enough that Cheng Liao couldn’t quite discern it.
She rubbed her face, though she really wanted to comfort her throbbing ankle, and added with a strained smile, “I was really just passing by…”
Deep down, she felt that Sheng Jingchu wouldn’t want an outsider overhearing their conversation, which was likely a "domestic matter" between the brothers. Whether he believed her or not, she felt the need to clarify her stance as just an “innocent bystander.”
“Can you walk?”
Sheng Jingchu crouched down and gently grasped her ankle.
Cheng Liao’s skin was pale, and her epidermis was thin, with blue veins visible even on a normal day. The collision had been hard enough to bruise a large area.
“It doesn’t seem like a fracture.”
His palm was surprisingly warm, causing Cheng Liao to instinctively pull her foot back, forcing a nonchalant expression.
“I’m fine, really!” She hurriedly glanced around, urging him, “By the way, your junior brothers are looking for you.”
With that, she bolted away. Only when she rounded a corner, out of sight of Sheng Jingchu, did she bite her collar and hiss in pain.
Back in her room, she heard a knock at the door. Opening it, Cheng Liao saw a room service attendant.
The attendant handed her an ice pack. “Mr. Sheng asked me to give this to you.”
Closing the door, Cheng Liao applied the ice pack to her injured ankle, then took out her phone to send Sheng Jingchu a message:
“Feeling much better, thanks for the ice pack.”
She added a mushroom bear emoji holding its big face to the message.
After waiting a while, Sheng Jingchu replied with a single word:
“Mm.”
Next up was the second match between Sheng Jingchu and Cao Xihe.
This time, Cao Xihe was in noticeably better form. The match nearly lasted the full time, with Sheng Jingchu winning by just three and a half points.
With the best-of-three format, Sheng Jingchu emerged victorious.
Compared to the relatively predictable outcome between Sheng Jingchu and Cao Xihe, the match between Jiang Chunlai and Xie Hanzhou was far more intense. Jiang Chunlai lost the first game but quickly turned the tables in the second. With both masters having one win and one loss, their third game drew nearly all the media to the scene, with CCTV Sports even broadcasting it live.
However, despite the match's importance, Sheng Jingchu did not attend.
This further fueled the rumors of a rift between Sheng Jingchu and Xie Hanzhou. Although no one explicitly mentioned it, reporters were already drafting their articles, ready to publish as soon as possible.
Cheng Liao couldn’t sit still. She stepped out to call Sheng Jingchu, but his phone was off. After some thought, she went upstairs to knock on his door. After a long while, the door finally opened. He stood in the doorway, his posture as straight as ever, but his head slightly drooped, with his long lashes casting shadows over his weary eyes.
Cheng Liao stood on tiptoe to feel his forehead with the back of her hand.
“Do you have a fever?”
He mumbled a vague “Mm” and turned to head back to his bedroom.
“How long have you had it?”
Cheng Liao suddenly remembered how his hand had felt warm when he had held her ankle the other day.
Sheng Jingchu lowered his head, trying to recall, but seemed unsure. He tapped his forehead and looked at her, somewhat dazed.
“Have you taken any medicine?”
He shook his head. “Sleeping should help.”
Cheng Liao grew anxious. “How many times have you tried that already?”
Xiao Qi had packed a medicine kit in his luggage. Cheng Liao took out some fever-reducing medicine, carefully read the instructions, and boiled water to give it to him.
He stared at her wide-eyed, reminding Cheng Liao of a puppy she once had that only liked to eat meat and would give her the same look whenever she tried to feed it vegetables, blinking those big eyes.
She couldn’t help but chuckle, amused that he had learned to act cute.
People are more vulnerable when they’re sick, and Cheng Liao felt a soft spot in her heart. She patted his head.
“Good boy.”
Sheng Jingchu hesitated for a few seconds, then obediently opened his mouth. Cheng Liao placed the pill on his tongue and gave him some water.
After fluffing his pillow, she helped him lie down and tucked him in.
“Turn on the TV for me, the sports channel,” he requested.
Cheng Liao turned on the TV, which was broadcasting a professional commentary on the match between Xie Hanzhou and Jiang Chunlai. Sheng Jingchu remained in the same lying position, not moving an inch. Cheng Liao thought he had fallen asleep and reached to lower the TV volume.
“There are two isolated stones on the white side.”
In this match, Xie Hanzhou was playing white.
Cheng Liao felt her heart tighten. Perhaps due to interviewing Sheng Jingchu, she naturally sided with his teacher, even though Master Jiang Chunlai was also a nice person—he had offered her licorice fish at a restaurant the other day.
It’s true; the heart is biased.
The commentary continued as Xie Hanzhou made another move. The commentator seemed surprised and paused for a moment.
Sheng Jingchu suddenly sat up.
“A brilliant move!”
Cheng Liao stared at the screen, unable to see what was so brilliant about it.
On the screen, Jiang Chunlai placed a stone just before time ran out.
Sheng Jingchu sighed. “Master Jiang is going to lose.”
“No more watching. How can you rest if you keep watching? You have a match the day after tomorrow.” Cheng Liao decisively turned off the TV and turned her attention to Sheng Jingchu.
“Xiao Qi entrusted his most precious panda to me, and not only did I fail to take good care of it, but I also let it get sick.”
Cheng Liao felt terribly guilty. She wasn’t good at taking care of others; she hadn’t even noticed that Sheng Jingchu had been sick for days.
“If Xiao Qi finds out you’re sick, who knows how much he’ll scold me.”
She was about to turn off the bedside lamp but remembered Sheng Jingchu’s particular habit. Instead, she just dimmed it slightly and tucked him in a bit more.
“Sleep well, Panda.”
It wasn’t until Sheng Jingchu had fallen asleep that Cheng Liao quietly left, gently closing the door behind her. Cao Xihe came upstairs, looking pleased, and greeted Cheng Liao.
“Is my senior brother here?”
Cheng Liao gestured for silence. “He’s sick.”
Cao Xihe immediately moved to knock on the door. “Then we need to get him to the hospital!”
Cheng Liao stopped him, though she was unsure herself. “I don’t think it’s necessary for now; he just took some medicine.”
Cao Xihe’s eyes widened. “He took medicine? My senior brother?”
“Yeah, I saw it with my own eyes.”
Cao Xihe looked at her with a smirk and whistled.
Cheng Liao quickly covered his mouth in frustration. "Keep it down!"
"The sun must be rising in the west," Cao Xihe withdrew his hand, still amused. "My senior brother has never liked taking medicine. Once, during a children's Go tournament, he stubbornly refused to take any medicine and ended up with pneumonia. So when he's not sick, it's fine, but when he does fall ill, it usually lands him in the hospital." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "How did you manage to get him to take medicine? Teach me your secret."
The thought of someone like Sheng Jingchu being afraid of taking medicine made Cheng Liao chuckle internally.
Remembering the chess match, she quickly asked, "Who won?"
"My teacher, of course," Cao Xihe replied, his gaze lingering on the door with a hint of complexity. "Now my senior brother has a lot of pressure on him."
That evening, Cheng Liao went to the restaurant on the first floor to cook porridge for Sheng Jingchu. She prepared a small pot of thick porridge with barley, millet, red dates, and glutinous rice. It was bubbling gently as she carried it, still steaming, in a small pot borrowed from the kitchen. Swiping her room key, she opened the door.
"Panda, it's time to eat!"
The two people inside the room suddenly fell silent.
Cheng Liao looked up and realized that Xie Hanzhou was sitting by Sheng Jingchu’s bed. She awkwardly smiled, holding up the pot. "Mr. Xie, have you eaten?"
"Thank you, I’ve already eaten." Xie Hanzhou nodded with a smile and explained, "I heard from Xiao Cao that Jingchu was sick, so I came to check on him."
Xie Hanzhou stood up to boil some water.
Cheng Liao quickly set down the pot and rushed to help. "Let me do it."
But Xie Hanzhou insisted, "You should go ahead and serve Jingchu some porridge."
Cheng Liao had no choice but to ladle out the porridge, blowing on a spoonful to cool it down. She pulled up a chair next to Sheng Jingchu.
Sheng Jingchu shook his head, clearly lacking an appetite.
"Sit still; I’ll feed you," Cheng Liao said, bringing the spoon to his lips. "Eat slowly; it might be a little hot."
Sheng Jingchu turned his head away, making a gesture of refusal, his ears turning slightly red.
Confused, Cheng Liao reached out to feel his forehead. "Is the fever still there?"
"Xiao Cao only mentioned that you hate taking medicine when you're sick. He didn't say you don't eat either." Cheng Liao muttered, thinking that sick people might just be a bit fussy. She coaxed him gently, "Eat up, and you’ll get better faster. Once you’re full, I’ll show you a magic trick."
With no other choice, Sheng Jingchu finally opened his mouth.
Cheng Liao carefully fed him, occasionally wiping his mouth with a tissue.
As she fed him, her lips curled into a smile, and her eyes gradually filled with a soft glow that seemed to spread like starlight. He didn’t dare look directly at her, using only his peripheral vision. Somehow, the restlessness in his heart began to settle under that gentle light.
After finishing the porridge, Xie Hanzhou’s water was ready. He used the hot water to warm a towel, wringing it out before folding it into a neat square and placing it on Sheng Jingchu’s forehead.
He turned to Cheng Liao, saying, “Please, change this every hour.”
He then picked up the medicine on the bedside table and began reading the instructions. His eyesight wasn’t as sharp anymore, so he held the medicine up to the light, using his finger to trace the small print. His hand trembled, and he had to read each word multiple times.
After finishing, he sighed in relief. “Keep taking this.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an amulet and put it around Sheng Jingchu’s neck. “I got this from the Yaowang Temple. The abbot personally blessed it, and it will keep you safe.”
Xie Hanzhou adjusted the amulet, looking a bit troubled. “I’m getting old; I keep forgetting things. The moment I saw you, I felt like I had forgotten to tell you something, and then I remembered it was about the amulet.”
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