Meng Yanxi: “……”

Seeing this scene, Jin Zhao finally couldn’t hold back her laughter.

Thinking of how Little Tuanzi used to bare his little flesh and act coquettish, and how Meng Yanxi had wickedly draped a jacket over him, Jin Zhao teased, “Your son’s afraid you’ll catch a chill. He wants you to dress properly.”

Meng Yanxi: “……”

The little one was copying what he’d learned—what a fast boomerang.

Jin Zhao received the message early the next morning. It was still not very bright outside. Meng Yanxi was going on a two-day business trip, and she had gotten up early to see him out.

Just as she returned to the bedroom, a message from Wang Nan came in: 【Zhao Zhao, He Yue attempted suicide and is in the hospital now.】

There was a loud “buzz” in Jin Zhao’s head, and her phone almost fell to the floor.

By the time she reached the hospital, Jin Zhao’s legs were weak, and Wang Nan couldn’t even sit steadily. The hospital bench was very slippery, her body had no strength, and she was trembling a little.

Only then did Jin Zhao learn that Wang Nan was He Yue’s counselor.

A student’s suicide was a catastrophic disaster at any school. What’s more, Wang Nan had been hired for less than two years—she was a new teacher with little experience. Previously, she had already been scared half to death just handling two students who got into a fight at the hospital.

She sat on the bench, her face pale as paper, looking helplessly at Jin Zhao. “Zhao Zhao, what should we do? If something really happens to the student…”

She didn’t dare imagine such consequences.

For both her and Jin Zhao’s careers, it would be a devastating blow.

Jin Zhao’s thoughts were also in chaos.

On the way over, she kept flipping through yesterday’s chat records with He Yue, confirming that she hadn’t said anything harsh and had even informed her of other solutions.

Why attempt suicide?

Wang Nan wiped her face and briefly explained the sequence of events: “He Yue’s roommates said that after she contacted you yesterday, she cried hard, saying you were blocking her and not letting her graduate, even though she already had a job lined up. She didn’t eat dinner last night, went to bed early, and pulled the bed curtain shut. This morning, before it got light, one of the girls in the dorm got up to use the bathroom and suddenly saw bloodstains under He Yue’s bed. She was so scared she immediately called out to her, but He Yue was already unconscious. One student urgently called an ambulance and sent her to the hospital, while another ran to the dorm office to notify me.”

Jin Zhao looked at Wang Nan in disbelief and softly repeated, “I was blocking her… not letting her graduate?”

Jin Zhao’s throat was dry. “I told her that if she only failed this one course, she could apply to the school, or see if there were other ways to substitute credits.”

Wang Nan shook her head helplessly. “She’s short by too much. Even now, she still has three courses she hasn’t passed.”

“Then what about the other teachers?” Jin Zhao asked quietly. “What did the other teachers say?”

Wang Nan said, “The other teachers are all experienced senior faculty. They handled it strictly by the rules and didn’t respond to her at all. You’re the only one who responded.”

Jin Zhao suddenly understood why He Yue had sent her forty-four friend requests in the middle of the night. It turned out that behind all those seemingly absurd actions was a reason—none of the other teachers had responded to her.

She found it a little laughable.

So she thought for the student’s sake, afraid it would affect her graduation, ran to the school, checked the papers—and she was still the one in the wrong?

She’d had bad luck since she was little. This past year of brief happiness had even made her feel as if her luck had finally turned for the better. It turned out nothing had changed, she was still that unlucky person.

University students using suicide to threaten graduation wasn’t anything new, yet it just happened to fall on her. And even though three teachers had failed the student, she had singled her out alone—and she was even on leave.

But what had she done wrong? She hadn’t done anything wrong. Every step she took was compliant with regulations.

Her course had surveillance records the school could check; the student’s exam papers and grades were on file; even yesterday’s exchange had WeChat records.

Jin Zhao’s gaze steadied. She suddenly stepped past Wang Nan and strode toward the ward.

“Zhao Zhao, what are you doing?” Wang Nan grabbed her. “I’ve already reported it to the dean and the party secretary. Before the leaders arrive, don’t act rashly.”

Jin Zhao pushed open the ward door without turning her head, saying calmly, “Just checking on her injuries.”

Jin Zhao hadn’t seen He Yue yesterday—this was the first time. The girl was awake, thin, with loose hair, slightly sallow skin, wearing black-rimmed glasses, lying on her side on the bed. As soon as Jin Zhao pushed the door open, their gazes collided.

He Yue’s eyes flickered for a moment. She instinctively tugged the quilt tighter, pressing her hands firmly beneath it. Then, all of a sudden, her gaze turned resolute, as if the moment Jin Zhao dared to lift the quilt to look at her wound, she would jump straight down from here on the spot.

Jin Zhao swept her with a glance, stopped, turned around, and walked out of the ward.

Wang Nan softened her tone, forced a smile, and said a few soothing words to He Yue before following Jin Zhao.

Jin Zhao went straight to the doctor’s office.

After the initial panic, at this moment her mind was frighteningly clear. In her head, she rapidly reviewed similar cases she’d seen at other schools. People always tended to sympathize with the weak; leadership was accustomed to minimizing major issues and smoothing things over, only hoping the student could leave school safely. So in cases like this, aside from a few rare instances where the school took an especially hard line and made the student take a leave of absence, most often it was the teacher who was sacrificed.

She hurried to the doctor’s office and, before the school leaders and the student’s parents arrived, obtained the medical record from the doctor in her capacity as a teacher.

The medical record read—

Chief complaint: Superficial laceration of the wrist skin for 20 minutes, accompanied by mild pain and a small amount of oozing blood.

Treatment recommendation: Rinse the wound with normal saline; disinfect with iodine.

Diagnosis: Superficial skin laceration of the left wrist.

Jin Zhao’s gaze fell on the words “small amount of oozing blood” and “superficial laceration.”

Sure enough, she was still timid—only daring to cut a single shallow line.

She quickly took out her phone and photographed the medical record.

This student wasn’t from the School of Foreign Languages, so she didn’t need to wait for that department’s leadership to arrive. Jin Zhao lightly patted Wang Nan on the shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

After saying that, she quickly left the hospital.

She proactively contacted the dean on her phone. The dean happened to be at the school. Jin Zhao took a taxi straight to campus.

In the car, she wrote up an explanation of the situation in advance on her phone and attached screenshots of yesterday’s chat records with He Yue. After arriving at the school, she first went to the exam paper archive, photographed He Yue’s final exam paper from last semester and this semester’s makeup exam paper, added them together into the explanation, and then went to the office to print everything out.

After finishing all this, she took a deep breath, held the explanation, and knocked on the dean’s office door.

A student’s suicide attempt could be made into either a big or a small matter, but no matter how small, if responsibility were ultimately pinned on her, the school she belonged to would also be implicated. At a moment like this, the dean and she were part of the same community of interests.

Jin Zhao explained the entire sequence of events to the dean. The dean listened with a grave expression and, after hearing everything, nodded. “I understand. I’ll report this to the university immediately. We absolutely will not tolerate this kind of coercive behavior.”

Only then did Jin Zhao finally let out a small sigh of relief.

Both being women, the dean looked at her again and said gently, “Look at you—your face is as white as paper. It’s fine. You handled this very well, collecting evidence in time and submitting it to the school. Secretary Zhao and I will step in to handle what comes next. You can continue your leave. You’ve just given birth—take good care of your body, or you’ll end up with health problems for the rest of your life.”

Only then did Jin Zhao realize that her hands and feet were icy cold.

So even though she appeared rational and briskly handled everything, deep down she had still been afraid.

After leaving the dean’s office, Jin Zhao walked alone around campus for a while. The midsummer sun was rather fierce, and passing students were all holding umbrellas.

Jin Zhao walked straight under the sun with empty hands, yet felt a bit cold.

Her phone rang. It took her a few seconds before she fumbled it out—Wang Nan was calling.

“Zhao Zhao, did you report this to the university?”

Jin Zhao: “Mm. I told our dean. She should be the one who reported it.”

Wang Nan fell silent for a moment, then said somewhat awkwardly, “Our leadership has also arrived at the hospital. He originally asked me to check with you, to see if there was any room for adjustment with the student’s grades.”

As expected—good thing she had decisively photographed the medical record.

Wang Nan immediately explained, “Don’t misunderstand. I don’t agree with this kind of approach. Otherwise, in the future, anyone who can’t graduate could just threaten suicide—then who’s going to protect the rights of the vast majority of good students who study honestly and properly? It’s just that leaders have their own considerations. They probably don’t want to blow this up, since the impact would be really bad.”

Jin Zhao said, “I understand. It’s fine. Let the leaders handle it—we’ve already done what we were supposed to do.”

Hearing Jin Zhao say this, Wang Nan’s nose suddenly stung.

Earlier, when He Yue’s parents rushed to the hospital, thinking the situation was extremely serious, they said many harsh words to her. But she was just a grassroots worker herself, only recently employed. Everything had to be handled meticulously according to procedure. What authority did she have to let a senior-year student who was still failing three courses participate in the graduation defense?

At that moment, she suddenly felt that the other two senior teachers—who had pretended not to see the matter from the very beginning—were the ones who truly possessed hard-earned, battle-tested wisdom, even though she had initially thought they didn’t care about students and were overly cold.

Because the response was decisive and the School of Foreign Languages, as the course-offering department, took a firm stance, the outcome of the matter came out a week later: He Yue was assessed as having depressive tendencies. Based on the hospital’s diagnostic certificate, the school temporarily processed a leave of absence for He Yue, allowing her to recuperate at home. If her condition improved, she could then return to campus to retake and sit exams for the three courses, and only after passing them would she be allowed to participate in the graduation defense.

And in that short week, Wang Nan lost ten jin.

Jin Zhao also fell ill.

She didn’t tell Meng Yanxi about this matter. He had gone on a business trip early that day; when he came back two days later, she already felt she had recovered. When Little Tuanzi teased her, she could laugh happily again. It was just that her resistance had weakened a bit—she accidentally caught a cold from the air-conditioning.

She was sick for a week. Meng Yanxi didn’t know the reason, and she didn’t say.

She thought that people always had to learn to grow on their own; one couldn’t rely on others for everything. More importantly, the matter had already been resolved.