“In the past,” Tao Xiuping said softly, gently patting her back to soothe her, “I always thought I had to use every incident to teach you the principles of being a person—to teach you how to handle problems, to teach you not to act on impulse, to teach you how to grow up.”

He sighed. “But somehow, without me noticing, my Zhizhi has already grown up—she can protect others now, like a little hero.”

At those words, all the pain and fear Tao Zhi had suppressed for so long, and the loneliness she had carried for so many years, erupted all at once.

Her fingers clutched tightly at Tao Xiuping’s clothes as she buried her face in his chest and cried without restraint.

Outside the ward, the young man’s fingers slowly loosened from the door handle. He stood there for a moment, lips pressed low, then turned and left.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Tao Zhi’s injuries healed quickly.

When the anesthesia finally wore off completely, she began to truly feel the pain—but it was still within a bearable range. She didn’t show it, not wanting everyone to worry any more than they already had.

Ji Fan pulled her through every test imaginable, up and down the hospital, and only when it was confirmed that there was nothing else wrong did he finally relax.

At school, Tao Xiuping had already asked for her leave. On the weekend rest day, early in the morning, Li Shuangjiang, Fu Xiling, and the rest of their group all came flooding in together.

Li Shuangjiang was still as loud and restless as ever. Forgetting all notions of seniority between “boss” and “underling,” he barged straight into the ward and started scolding her without hesitation.

“I know you can fight, and you’re invincible in the lab, but that’s not the same thing! Those were adults out there! You could’ve just called the police and been done with it, why the hell did you rush in? You think you’re some kind of hero?”

Tao Zhi raised her hand, lightly touching the spot behind her ear. The stitches had just been removed after a week of healing—there was no pain anymore.

“How could I just call the police and watch from the side?” she muttered softly. “I’m fine, aren’t I?”

Li Shuangjiang’s face flushed red, neck thick with anger. “Oh, you’re amazing! You’re just the most incredible, universe-defying hammer of awesomeness!”

Fu Xiling sighed and quietly pinched his arm, worried he’d say something even more inappropriate.

None of them knew the full story—it was only after Ji Fan briefly explained that she found out the one who had gotten hurt that day was Jiang Qihuai’s grandfather.

The group made a noisy fuss for a while, then, afraid of disturbing her rest, didn’t stay long and left soon after.

The ward grew quiet again.

Tao Zhi’s smile faded. She lowered her head and glanced at the phone beside her bed.

It had been a full week. She hadn’t seen Jiang Qihuai once, and every WeChat message she sent him had vanished without a reply.

Every time she asked, Tao Xiuping only told her that everything was fine for now, that she didn’t need to worry about it.

So she tried prying bits of information from Ji Fan instead.

Jiang Zhi had been detained temporarily on suspicion of intentional injury. Grandpa Jiang hadn’t suffered any serious harm and was recovering well. Jiang Qihuai was taking care of him.

Tao Zhi wanted to ask which ward his grandfather was in, but Ji Fan refused to tell her.

The ward door was gently pushed open. Tao Zhi’s head shot up instantly, her dark eyes fixed on the pale green door.

Ji Fan had returned after sending everyone off. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

When Tao Zhi saw it was him, disappointment spread across her face. “Ah…”

“‘Ah’ what? What’s with the ‘ah’?” Ji Fan snapped irritably. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’m not disappointed,” Tao Zhi lied, eyes wide and innocent. She looked at him with exaggerated sweetness. “A’Fan, I want to eat dragon fruit.”

“…You can only boss me around now. Once you’re discharged and back home tomorrow, I’m going to make you pay for it.” Ji Fan rolled his eyes, muttering as he went to peel the fruit for her.

Tao Zhi watched the boy silently as he ran to the cabinet to fetch a knife and cut the fruit, then lowered her head again.

She pouted quietly.

That heartless Jiang Qihuai.

He was in the same hospital, for heaven’s sake!

He didn’t even have time to come and see her!!!

On the day Tao Zhi was discharged, the gloomy weather of the past few days finally gave way to sunlight.

The warm daylight melted the thick layer of snow on the ground. She could’ve been discharged a day earlier, but no matter what Tao Xiuping or Ji Fan said, they wouldn’t allow it—so Tao Zhi was forced to stay two extra days.

The young girl was lively again, bouncing back to her usual self, though she would occasionally fall into quiet spells. Everyone knew the reason, but no one mentioned it.

When Ji Fan went off to queue for the discharge paperwork, Tao Xiuping looked at her. “Let’s go.”

Tao Zhi blinked. “Aren’t we waiting for A’Fan?”

“He’ll come back later,” Tao Xiuping said. “Dad’s taking you to see someone.”

Tao Zhi thought it was probably Grandpa Jiang.

She perked up immediately and obediently followed Tao Xiuping, circling past the hospital’s landscaped courtyard to another inpatient building, then up to the third floor.

The smell of the hospital wasn’t something one could call pleasant—filled with a mix of bustling disorder and a quiet, sterile cleanliness. They walked down a long corridor, and Tao Zhi looked up at the sign hanging above them.

Department of Radiotherapy Inpatient Ward.

She froze for a moment.

At the very end of the corridor, Tao Xiuping stopped outside a ward door and turned his head. “This one.”

Tao Zhi followed his gaze and looked inside.

The door wasn’t closed. It was a standard single room with two beds. On one of them lay a woman.

Ji Jin was half sitting up. She wore the hospital’s plain white gown, her face as pale as the fabric itself. She looked even thinner than the last time Tao Zhi had seen her.

One of her hands was connected to an IV drip; the other held a colored pen as she focused intently on drawing in a notebook.

Beside her, a five- or six-year-old boy in the same white hospital clothes leaned against the bed, propping his chin on his hands as he watched her draw.

Ji Jin’s voice was soft and gentle. “See? Like this—the lion is finished. The ears should be short.”

The little boy blinked, then said happily, “I can draw it now! Thank you, Auntie Ji!”

Ji Jin smiled and patted his head. “Does A’Li like lions?”

“I do!” the boy waved his little arms. “Lions look so strong! They don’t get sick, and they don’t have to see doctors like Auntie and A’Li.”

As he spoke, his expression fell, his small face scrunching with sadness. “A’Li has to take that light again tomorrow. It hurts a lot. And after that, it keeps hurting for days.”

“But only by doing that,” Ji Jin said softly, “can A’Li’s illness get better. Only then can you become a lion.”

“Okay then…” the boy said reluctantly. He tilted his head up carefully. “Will Auntie get better too after taking the light? Does it hurt?”

Ji Jin was silent for a moment. The smile on her face faded slightly.

She turned her eyes toward the window and was quiet for a few seconds before smiling again. “Mm. Auntie will get better too.”

The boy brightened up again. He hugged his little sketchbook and stood up. “Then I’ll show it to my mom! I’ll come back to play with Auntie later!”

He stumbled off toward the door, and Ji Jin’s gaze followed him—toward the entrance.

Tao Zhi snapped back to her senses. Instinctively, she stepped back two paces, barely avoiding Ji Jin’s line of sight.

Her back pressed against the cold wall of the corridor. Sunlight streamed through the window and fell over her, but it felt cold—empty, as though it touched nothing at all.

“What… what do you mean?” Her eyes widened, staring straight at Tao Xiuping. “What’s wrong with Mom?”

Tao Xiuping averted his gaze in silence. His eyes were red, and after a long pause, he finally spoke in a strained, low voice.

“Late stage. It’s already spread to the lymph nodes. Now they can only rely on radiotherapy and chemotherapy to suppress further metastasis of the cancer cells.”

“I… I’d wanted to tell you and Xiao Fan all along. But no matter what, your mother wouldn’t let me.”

Before Tao Zhi even realized it, tears had already fallen from her eyes.

Ji Fan being sent back so suddenly.

The woman’s frail figure the last time she came.

The constant inability to reach her.

Tao Xiuping, who had inexplicably started spending long hours at home—and the growing weariness and silence etched deeper and deeper into his face.

There had been so many signs.

So many things that didn’t add up.

And yet she had noticed nothing. She hadn’t realized anything. She and Ji Fan were just two fools, caught up every day in their small worries, grumbling about unfairness, thinking the whole world was against them.

From the next ward, the little boy came running out again with his sketchbook in his arms. He pushed open Ji Jin’s door and didn’t close it.

The woman inside remained quietly gazing out the window. In the brief stillness, Tao Zhi heard her murmur softly, “I wonder how A’Fan and Zhizhi are doing now.”

The little boy skipped over. “Auntie Ji! Teach me to draw a tiger next!”

Ji Jin was startled out of her thoughts, then turned and smiled, answering gently.

Tao Zhi covered her eyes with one hand. Her back slid slowly down the wall until she was crouching on the floor.

She bit her lips hard, struggling to hold back the sobs threatening to burst out uncontrollably.