After Saving My Possessive Best Friend, I Couldn't Escape (GL) - Chapter 18

Fang Zhile didn’t waste time asking obvious questions about why Ye Yu was there or who she was looking for. The moment they entered the house, she started busy working to boil water and find medicinal herbs for warmth. “The water heater at home isn’t great, so you’ll have to wait a moment. I’ll brew a pot of ginger soup for you; you’ll have to make do with that.”

Ye Yu was wrapped up like a construction worker’s head-cloth in the small sofa in the bedroom. The whirring of the rickety fan and the rustling of rain outside on this late summer morning merged into a melody that was indescribably pleasant and incredibly soothing, nourishing her chilled and rain-soaked body like hot spring water.

Ye Yu allowed Fang Zhile to fuss over her, obedient as a doll.

“This is the school uniform you lent me last time,” Fang Zhile knocked on the door, peeked her head in, and somewhat sheepishly handed in a packed bag from outside the door. “I haven’t had a chance to return it to you. It’s been washed clean for ages.”

Ye Yu didn’t question why a cleaned uniform was brought back from school instead of being left there. She quietly accepted the uniform and softly said, “Thank you.”

“The hot water is ready. I also put two thermoses in the bathroom. If the hot water isn’t enough, use the water in the thermoses,” Fang Zhile rubbed her hair. “It’s barely enough for me every time. Your hair is long, and you got rained on, so it definitely won’t be enough.”

Ye Yu gazed at her fixedly, her eyes shimmering with subtle emotions that ultimately condensed into another “Thank you.”

Fang Zhile withdrew her head.

The school uniform in her hands was very clean, the towel was sufficiently soft, and even the meager hot water from the heater became entirely tolerable.

After Ye Yu finished showering, wearing the clean school uniform, she was immediately handed a large bowl of hot ginger soup by Fang Zhile. She felt warmly comfortable now and wasn’t keen on drinking anything hot. She held the rim of the bowl with both hands, her pale fingertips recoiling slightly as if scalded. She whispered, “I’ll drink it after it cools.”

Fang Zhile placed the bowl on the dining table. “The hairdryer is here, too. Dry your hair once you’ve towel-dried it. Your hair is very long; it won’t dry easily.”

Ye Yu finally had a chance to observe Fang Zhile’s home. She had taken several wrong turns trying to find it. Fang Zhile’s house was at the very end of the small alleyway. Only her door was intact—a neat wooden plank door with a large iron lock. The courtyard was small, about the size of her own room. The living space consisted of only one living room, one bathroom, and two bedrooms. The furniture was mostly wood, old, but wiped meticulously clean. It was clearly a poor home, yet the entire house exuded a small, warm, cozy feeling.

However, aside from Fang Zhile, there were no traces of anyone else living there.

“You came out so early. Have you eaten breakfast?” Fang Zhile asked. “Or should you sleep for a bit to catch up?”

Ye Yu looked down at her hands for a moment. Instead of answering, she asked, “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

“You came to find me, right?”

Ye Yu silently looked up. Fang Zhile wore an “I told you so” triumphant expression, smiling as she sat beside Ye Yu. “You came to visit me on the weekend and got lost?”

That seemed to be a plausible summary.

Ye Yu opened her mouth but couldn’t find any words to refute her.

Fang Zhile said, “It’s fine. I won’t laugh at you. My sense of direction is also mediocre. This place is all crisscrossed and very easy to get confused in. When I was little, my grandmother used to wander all the streets and alleys looking for me. If I couldn’t find my way home, I would just sit at the crossroads, and Grandma would surely find me before dark.”

“Grandmother?” Ye Yu blinked, a hint of confusion surfacing in her beautiful eyes.

Fang Zhile’s tone held a hint of nostalgia. Before her family became wealthy, she used to go to the village to stay with her grandmother for a while every summer vacation. The Fang Zhile in the book also had a grandmother, but she had passed away when she was very young. Perhaps because life was getting progressively harder, the memories of acting spoiled in the arms of an elder brought an intense sense of longing.

Ye Yu sounded a little envious. “That’s wonderful. Your grandmother must have spoiled you terribly.”

“Of course! What elder doesn’t spoil their child?” Fang Zhile blurted out, then quickly realized that Ye Yu’s family was indeed an exception, and she stammered. “Ah, well, I mean, elders should love their children, but there are always exceptions. In those cases, we just have to love ourselves more. Relying on yourself is the best way.”

Ye Yu looked at her with a cold face. Fang Zhile thought, Oh no, I’ve upset her.

Fang Zhile was anxious and distressed, fidgeting in her seat. “Um, I, I’m sorry…”

Ye Yu suddenly turned her head away, leaning it slightly on her own shoulder.

Fang Zhile blinked suspiciously. “Did you just smile?”

Ye Yu turned her head back, her expression calm. “No.”

“I clearly heard laughter.”

“You misheard.”

“Your eyes are still smiling!”

“Mmm… that’s because you really are very funny.”

Fang Zhile was left speechless. She glared, then looked at Ye Yu’s face and instantly forgot what she was glaring at.

“Fine, fine. Just be happy,” Fang Zhile said helplessly.

She could somewhat guess the reason for Ye Yu’s unhappiness. She had eavesdropped on Ye Yu’s calls with her parents before, so it was probably a family issue. Fang Zhile knew how to read the room and, after circling around the topic, finally managed to cheer her up.

It was now past seven. Fang Zhile got up to prepare food for Ye Yu, looking through the cooking ingredients. “If you don’t have any other requests, it’s going to be vegetable congee.”

“That’s fine.”

It was still raining outside. Fang Zhile put on her raincoat, walked around the eaves to the steps on the other side, and went to the other end of the yard. There was a small, separate vegetable patch there, growing lush green vegetables. The seedlings had soaked up the moisture overnight, looking vibrant and thriving.

Fang Zhile picked a few clusters of the most tender shoots, pulled up a few small spring onions, and returned to the kitchen. The rice had been pre-soaked. She set a pot to boil, put the rice in to cook slowly, and when the rice aroma was fully released, she threw in the chopped spring onions and tender shoots, letting it simmer for three minutes.

Ye Yu was served an incredibly fresh bowl of vegetable congee.

“This is delicious,” Ye Yu took a spoonful. Before she could fully swallow, she eagerly said, “It’s too delicious.”

Fang Zhile smiled at her. “Then eat more.”

The meal banished all the coldness. Ye Yu ate two bowls of congee and a dish of pickles before setting down her bowl.

Seeing she was finished, Fang Zhile reached out to take her bowl to wash. Her kitchen was very small, only a meter wide. Fang Zhile usually didn’t leave dishes unwashed, as it would easily cause a bad smell.

She put the bowls in the sink and turned on the faucet. Cold water sputtered out of the pipe. Just then, a slender, fair hand reached out toward the stack of greasy dishes.

Ye Yu said, “I’ll wash the dishes.”

Fang Zhile didn’t turn around or step back. She looked down at Ye Yu’s extended hand. The bones were well-proportioned, the skin fair and long, curving with strength, delicate, transparent, and lustrous—clearly the hand of someone who writes year-round. A hand meant for a writing brush should stay where it belongs, clean. Why should it reach into a sink full of grease?

So Fang Zhile, quite unromantically, slapped Ye Yu’s hand away.