Warm Water Burns, Chapter 14

Yuanning: [It won’t be.]

Zhemuw: [Gege, do you remember you have a jacket and an umbrella at my place?]

Yuanning: [Didn’t I say you don’t need to return them?]

Zhemuw: [But if I don’t give them back, they’re no use to me either.]

Keeping a man’s clothes in her dorm room really wasn’t a good thing.

Fu Lanzhuo chewed a biscuit, staring silently at his phone screen for a long while, his dark lashes lowered. [Then give them back to me tomorrow.]

Wen Yan tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing the pink-white lobe, and typed: [Send me your home address, gege.]

The phone buzzed.

Yuanning: [I’ll come pick them up myself.]

Zhemuw: [Are you coming to campus tomorrow?]

Yuanning: [Mm.]

…

The next morning at nine, Wen Yan heard movement in the dorm and surfaced from a deep sleep. She pulled back the curtain. Zhong Youyou had just finished washing up and was coming out of the bathroom. “Yan Yan, you’re up?”

Wen Yan hummed in acknowledgment, her gaze drifting to the opposite side. Xiao Xinrui’s curtain was pulled open, her blanket unmade and piled messily on the bed.

“Sis Rui already went out. Said the Youth Volunteer Association has an event,” Zhong Youyou said.

At that time, Wen Yan had still been asleep, so Xiao Xinrui and Zhong Youyou had been speaking in hushed voices. Wen Yan hadn’t heard any of it.

She checked the time—already nine—and climbed down from her bed.

“You’re on your period, right, Yan Yan? You could’ve slept in a bit longer,” Zhong Youyou said, heading to her desk to pack her bag.

She’d noticed bloodstained tissues and a used sanitary pad in the bathroom trash. Last night, Xiao Xinrui had been perfectly energetic doing horse stances, so Wen Yan was the most likely one.

Wen Yan said, “I’ve slept enough. I’m going to wash up.”

Zhong Youyou didn’t press it. She said, “Yan Yan, I’m heading out first. I’m going to my aunt’s place today—she invited me over for a meal.”

Zhong Youyou’s aunt worked in Yan City, unmarried, with her own apartment and car—a thoroughly independent career woman. Zhong Youyou had mentioned her to the others before. Wen Yan nodded. “Go ahead. Be safe on the way.”

“Mm!” Zhong Youyou slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed out.

After washing up, Wen Yan came back out, took a sanitary pad from her drawer, and returned to the bathroom.

Her stomach ached a little again.

Once she was done, she walked over to the water dispenser and turned on the hot water.

Something occurred to her. She went to the wardrobe, took out the black jacket from inside, and found a clean paper bag to put it in.

She’d taken the suit jacket to a dry cleaner. The fabric looked expensive, and she hadn’t felt right tossing it into the dorm’s washing machine.

The umbrella was in the cabinet under her desk. She found that too and put it in a separate bag.

With the jacket and umbrella packed, the water was ready. Wen Yan filled her cup.

“Buzz.” Her phone vibrated once. Carrying the cup, she walked back to her desk.

It was a message from Fu Lanzhuo.

[Are you up?]

Wen Yan picked up her phone and replied: [I’m up, gege.]

[Are you coming to campus?]

Yuanning: [Mm. Already through the gate.]

“…”

Already through the gate.

If he’d come from the southeast entrance, it would only take a few minutes to reach Lanxuan Apartments. Wen Yan quickly went to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress to change into.

Then she combed her hair.

The phone buzzed again.

[I’m downstairs from your dorm.]

Wen Yan grabbed the two bags and headed out.

Just like the night before, Fu Lanzhuo’s car was allowed to drive directly into Lanxuan Apartments. Normally, private vehicles weren’t permitted on campus except under special circumstances, let alone near the student dormitory buildings.

And this was the third time Fu Lanzhuo had driven in.

On a Sunday morning, there weren’t many people outside.

Wen Yan spotted Fu Lanzhuo standing beside a black Mercedes.

She noticed there was still someone in the driver’s seat—hair slightly gray, likely Fu Lanzhuo’s chauffeur.

Fu Lanzhuo wore a well-fitted black suit, a dark tie knotted neatly at his collar. Sunlight filtering through layers of overlapping leaves fell on his crisp shoulders, gilding them with a soft, pale golden glow.

Wen Yan noticed he was in full formal wear again today. He probably had other engagements over the weekend. Making a special trip just to collect a jacket and an umbrella felt like a waste of his valuable time.

Carrying the two bags, Wen Yan jogged down the steps in front of the building and approached him. “Gege.”

Fu Lanzhuo could tell she was a little rushed. His voice was low. “Mm.”

He reached out and took the bags. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I should be the one thanking you.”

“Does your stomach still hurt today?” Fu Lanzhuo asked.

She hadn’t expected him to suddenly ask about that.

Wen Yan shook her head. “It’s fine now…”

In truth, there was still a faint ache.

“Get some rest,” Fu Lanzhuo said, looking at her.

“Mm…” Wen Yan nodded.

Fu Lanzhuo didn’t say anything more. He turned, pulled open the rear car door, placed the bags inside, then retrieved something from within.

Wen Yan saw it was a white container.

Fu Lanzhuo handed it to her. “This is for you.”

“…What is it?”

His expression was slightly unnatural, but his eyes stayed on Wen Yan, his voice deep and low. “I had our housekeeper make you some chicken soup.”

“Drink it to warm your stomach.”

Wen Yan froze.

After a moment’s hesitation, she raised her hand and accepted it. “Thank you, gege.”

“But gege… this lunchbox.”

“I’ll come pick it up this afternoon,” Fu Lanzhuo said.

Wen Yan couldn’t help staring at him for a moment before agreeing.

Her “okay” seemed to ease the tension in his body just a fraction. His thin lips pressed together slightly, and he said, “Head back inside.”

His gaze lingered on her a beat longer, and he couldn’t help adding, “It’s chilly in the morning. You should wear more.”

“Aren’t you in a sensitive period?”

“I’m not cold.” Wen Yan’s eyes sparkled.

A phone ringtone suddenly cut through the air. Fu Lanzhuo pulled his phone from his trouser pocket.

“I have something to attend to. I’ll go now.”

“Mm…” Wen Yan actually had more she wanted to say to him, but seeing that he seemed busy, she held back. “Goodbye, gege.”

With that, she clutched the lunchbox to her chest, turned, and walked away briskly.

He watched her retreating figure for a moment before finally answering the call.

In the driver’s seat, Old Zhang—probably seeing this kind of scene for the first time—had completely forgotten to get out and open the door for Fu Lanzhuo. Still on the phone, Fu Lanzhuo pulled the door open himself and got in.

“To the office,” he said once inside.

“Oh! Yes, sir.” Zhang Fu hurriedly replied.

By the time the call ended, the car had already passed through Yanqing University’s gate. Fu Lanzhuo lowered the phone from his ear, his gaze falling on the two paper bags on the passenger seat.

The bags were a light coffee color, printed with little mushrooms and cartoon figures. His jacket was folded neatly inside one of them.

He hooked one bag toward him. As he peered inside, he caught a faint, pleasant scent of white peach perfume.

Author’s Note:
———————-

Chapter 11: Aurora – “Bang—”

In the dorm.

Wen Yan stared at the white lunchbox on her desk for a while before reaching out to open it. More precisely, it was an insulated food container. The moment she lifted the lid, a thick plume of white steam billowed out, brushing softly against her cheeks and lashes, followed immediately by a clean, rich aroma.

The heat curled upward in lazy wisps, filling the small desk space with fragrance.

Inside, the soup was a pale gold. Several pieces of skinless chicken thigh, pearly white and firm, rested quietly at the bottom. Floating in the broth were pristine white bamboo fungus, morel mushrooms, and sliced matsutake, dotted with a few goji berries and plump red dates.

On the lid of the container was a small compartment marked with a utensil icon. Wen Yan opened it to find a pair of silver chopsticks and a silver spoon. She pried them out, lowered her head, and scooped up a spoonful of soup.

It was a little hot. She blew on it twice before sipping.

The flavor was exquisitely fresh, the texture just right. Wen Yan picked out a piece of bamboo fungus to eat—crisp, tender, and refreshing. The morels had been braised until perfectly soft.

Her gaze drifted to her phone. She set down the spoon first, picked up the phone, and sent Fu Lanzhuo a message.

Warm Water Burns, Chapter 15

[Gege, the chicken soup is delicious.]
[Thank you.]

As she sent those two messages, a faint flush crept up to the base of Wen Yan’s ears.

Yuanning: [Is it good?]

She’d already said it was delicious…

He was probably just double-checking.

Wen Yan sent a nodding penguin sticker.

It left her wondering how she could possibly thank Fu Lanzhuo properly.

She really wanted to treat him to a meal that afternoon, but he might not have the time.

She let the thought go.

A new message popped up in the chat.

Yuanning: [There’s a layer of pastries at the bottom of the container. Try them.]

Seeing this, Wen Yan set her phone down and turned her attention back to the white insulated container. She studied it, turning it slightly, until she found the latch and twisted it open. Sure enough, there was another layer beneath.

Two kinds of pastries were arranged inside, both looking delicious. Wen Yan didn’t quite recognize them. She picked one up with her chopsticks.

The first bite was crisp and flaky, giving way to a soft, chewy filling. She tasted the clean sweetness of hawthorn.

It was so good she finished it in two bites.

[Gege, what are these two pastries? I’ve never had anything like them. They’re really good.] She sent the question to Fu Lanzhuo.

Yuanning: [One is homemade by our housekeeper—hawthorn and cheese filling. The other is lotus root starch osmanthus cake.]

Wen Yan looked over and used her chopsticks to pick up the one Fu Lanzhuo had mentioned. The texture was silky and smooth, almost translucent, with a delicate, lingering fragrance of osmanthus blooming across her palate.

Both pastries were wonderful. Wen Yan had eaten nearly half of them before she went back to the chicken soup.

Still, those two servings of pastry had saved her an entire breakfast.

Worried she wouldn’t finish all the soup, she deliberately left two pieces of pastry uneaten. As she drank, she finished all the chicken and morels inside, ending up comfortably full.

By then, the faint ache in her lower abdomen had faded entirely.

[Gege, I’ve finished everything.] There were actually still two pieces of pastry left, but she felt this would better honor the thought behind Fu Lanzhuo’s gesture. She hit send.

Two seconds later, a reply came: [Mm.]

Yuanning: [Get some rest.]

Fu Lanzhuo was probably busy by now. Wen Yan didn’t want to disturb him further, so she sent a nodding bunny sticker and left it at that.

She stood, pulled a civil law textbook from her bookshelf, and tucked it into her bag. She added a few sanitary pads as well.

Her stomach had stopped hurting. She decided to head to the library.

*

Three-thirty in the afternoon. Yanqing University Library.

Sunlight streamed bright and clear through the tall, spotless glass windows, falling in broad slanted sheets across the floor. Fine motes of dust floated in the air, visible in the light as though dusted with gold powder.

Wen Yan sat by the window, bathed in that warm glow. She was halfway through *Wuthering Heights*, her fingertips lightly tracing the bottom edge of the page.

The surroundings were hushed. Nearly everyone had their heads down—studying, reading, or writing papers—each absorbed in their own small world at their own desk.

This kind of unhurried leisure made Wen Yan a little uneasy. Three years of high school had conditioned her to a life of relentless pressure. Every spare moment had been spent grinding through practice problems, with almost no room for anything else.

When she finally finished *Wuthering Heights*, she closed the book, pulled her laptop over, and opened it. She wanted to find a part-time job she could do on weekends.

There were all sorts of options online. After browsing for a while, Wen Yan decided on tutoring. A primary school student was looking for a math tutor, the hourly rate was decent, and the location was in the city center. Her slender fingers tapped the keyboard as she submitted her application.

By the time she finished, she glanced at the clock. It was almost five. Her gaze drifted to a cloth bag on the right side of the desk, where the rounded lid and edges of the white insulated container peeked out.

She hesitated, then picked up her phone and messaged Fu Lanzhuo: [Gege, let me bring the lunchbox back to you. Send me your address. No need for you to make another trip to campus. I have plenty of time—my afternoon is completely free.]

A while passed before the reply came: [No need. I’ll come to campus to get it.]

“…”

Since he insisted, Wen Yan didn’t argue.

And perhaps Fu Lanzhuo simply didn’t want to casually reveal where he lived.

[Okay. Sorry for the trouble, gege.] Wen Yan typed.

Yuanning: [It’s no trouble.]

Wen Yan’s lashes trembled.

The golden light streaming through the windows gradually retreated from the long table, slowly vanishing beyond the window frame. Inside the library, the small sounds multiplied—someone dragged a chair, producing a brief scrape. Wen Yan checked the time and began packing her bag, ready to head to the cafeteria for dinner.

Her gaze fell once more on the bag to her right.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. A message from Fu Lanzhuo: [I’m at the campus gate. Are you in your dorm?]

Wen Yan replied: [No, I’m at the library.]

Yuanning: [Alright. I’ll come to you.]

Wen Yan stood and started packing. She tucked her water bottle and pencil case into her bag, left *Wuthering Heights* on the table, then slung the bag over her shoulder, grabbed the cloth bag, and carried the book to the return shelf first.

The evening sun was soft. The library’s aged brick-red building lay bathed in the slanting golden light. At dinnertime, quite a few people were emerging from the library, heading to the cafeteria.

Wen Yan reached the entrance, her eyes sweeping over the crowd, searching—uncertain whether Fu Lanzhuo had arrived yet. Then she heard someone call from behind her: “Wen Yan.”

She turned. Fu Lanzhuo stood tall and straight beside the stone lion to the right of the library’s grand doors, one hand in his pocket, his gaze calm and still, watching her quietly.

Wen Yan’s fingers tightened slightly on the handle of the cloth bag.

Fu Lanzhuo stepped forward until he stood before her.

“Gege, did you just get here?” Wen Yan asked.

“Mm,” Fu Lanzhuo replied.

Wen Yan looked up at him, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, the words slipped out: “Can I treat you to dinner?”

After all, Fu Lanzhuo was already on campus. Surely he could spare half an hour for a meal.

Fu Lanzhuo held her bright, dark eyes steadily. His jaw tightened. “Yes.”

Though she’d asked, Wen Yan hadn’t actually decided what to treat him to. While she was still thinking, Fu Lanzhuo spoke first. “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten at a Yanqing cafeteria.”

Wouldn’t that be too simple?

But Wen Yan agreed. “Okay.”

“Let’s go to Xilan Cafeteria. It’s the closest to the library,” Fu Lanzhuo said.

“Mm.” Wen Yan nodded.

As the two of them walked toward Xilan Cafeteria, Fu Lanzhuo reached toward her. “Let me carry that bag.”

“Oh, I already washed the lunchbox. Thank you!” Wen Yan handed him the bag containing the insulated container.

Fu Lanzhuo took it. “Why aren’t you resting in your dorm?”

“I spend my weekends at the library anyway. And it’s really not a big deal,” Wen Yan replied.

She was just on her period, not sick.

If there were no cramps, she was perfectly normal.

“Your stomach hasn’t hurt again?”

“Mm…”

Yanqing University had seventeen cafeterias in total. Xilan was the tallest, with six floors, though the top two were only open on special occasions—mostly for university leadership to dine. The bottom four floors were open on weekdays, but on weekends, only the first and second floors operated.

From the library, it was a five-minute walk.

The late afternoon sun spilled lazily over everything. The open ground in front of the cafeteria glowed a warm gold. Unlike the usual weekday rush and clamor, the weekend atmosphere was loose and languid. The air carried not only the warmth of sunlight but also the faint, inviting aroma of food drifting from inside.

When Wen Yan and Fu Lanzhuo walked into the cafeteria together, quite a few gazes turned their way. Wen Yan was used to it by now—whether in the cafeteria, on the paths, or in the library, people always seemed to notice her.

“You seem quite popular on campus,” Fu Lanzhuo said suddenly.

Wen Yan admitted it almost instinctively. “A little.”

Especially today, with a man by her side.

Fu Lanzhuo’s gaze was very faint. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll take you to the sixth floor.”

“The sixth floor… but isn’t that closed to the public?” Wen Yan turned to look at him.

“It’s open. I gave them a heads-up in advance,” Fu Lanzhuo said.

Wen Yan paused.

Then again, Fu Lanzhuo’s status was extraordinary. He probably wasn’t comfortable sitting and eating surrounded by so many staring eyes.

“Oh…”

Wen Yan agreed.

But after agreeing, she felt something was off. On their walk from the library, Fu Lanzhuo hadn’t made a phone call or sent anyone a message.

Yet he said he’d given them a heads-up in advance…

“Let’s go.” Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, Fu Lanzhuo prompted her.

Wen Yan followed a beat behind, walking with him toward the elevator.

“Ding.”

The elevator arrived at the sixth floor quickly.

At the other end of the corridor was the entrance to the dining hall. Wen Yan saw two men in black standing guard there, side by side, as though they’d been waiting for a while. She instinctively tightened her grip on her backpack straps.

“They’re my bodyguards. You can pretend they’re not there,” Fu Lanzhuo said.

Wen Yan would only learn later that Fu Lanzhuo didn’t usually like having bodyguards follow him around. But given his position, they accompanied him more often than not.

Wen Yan nodded and followed him toward the dining hall entrance.