Cheng Fangqiu jolted awake, her eyes snapping open to be met with a familiar, handsome face.
Unlike his usual calm demeanor, his sword-like brows were tightly furrowed as he took a sharp breath, turning his head to inspect the wounds on his shoulder and arm.
At that moment, she had been scared out of her wits and used her full strength—swinging the bamboo basket straight at him without hesitation. If not for his quick reflexes in blocking part of the impact with his arm, the one to suffer would have been his head.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. There was a snake chasing me.”
Realizing she had unintentionally hurt him, a trace of guilt flashed across Cheng Fangqiu’s face. She quickly stepped forward to check his arm, expressing her apology while her eyes darted around warily, afraid that the snake might suddenly leap out from some corner to bite her.
But what she saw next shocked her.
Not far away, lying among the weeds, was a massive snake with brown-black and yellow interwoven patterns. Its thick body had been cleaved in two by an axe, the gruesome sight of blood gushing from the severed wound making her eyes widen in horror.
The snake was not completely dead yet—its upper half was still writhing, less than half a meter away from her.
Cheng Fangqiu had never seen such a scene before. She let out a sharp scream, startling the birds in the forest into a frantic flight. Panic-stricken, she instinctively grabbed the front of the man’s clothes and buried herself into his embrace.
“It’s still alive! It’s alive!”
The girl’s warm breath sprayed against his collarbone, and the softness of her body brushed against his chest, rubbing against him in a way that ignited a fire. Even the most self-disciplined man would have reddened at the ears in this moment.
Zhou Yinghuai hadn’t expected her reaction to be so extreme. He frowned slightly but, considering that she was just a young girl, he suppressed his temper and spoke in a gentle voice, “It’s already dead.”
After a brief pause, he added, “Cauliflower snake. Not venomous.”
His voice had unconsciously deepened, becoming husky and magnetic. If this were any other time, Cheng Fangqiu, being somewhat of a voice connoisseur, would have definitely taken the opportunity to appreciate it. But at this moment, her soul was nearly scared out of her body—how could she possibly pay attention to his voice?
After all, the creature she feared most in her life was snakes—those cold-blooded, slippery things covered in scales…
“I’m scared.”
Her dewy peach blossom eyes stared straight at him, as if peering into his soul. Her pitiful expression made it impossible for anyone to be angry with her.
Zhou Yinghuai pursed his lips and glanced down at the teardrops welling in her eyes. Taking her by the hand, he led her away from the “crime scene” and shot a look at the now motionless snake. In a soothing tone, he reassured, “It’s okay now. It’s really dead this time.”
Cheng Fangqiu didn’t have the courage to glance in that direction again, but she trusted Zhou Yinghuai. He had no reason to lie to her. The tension in her body eased, and as her rationality slowly returned, she suddenly became aware of how intimately close they were—practically pressed against each other!
She had originally come up the mountain to make an impression on Zhou Yinghuai, to increase her presence and favorability in his eyes. Yet, she hadn’t expected him to witness such an embarrassing moment of hers. How humiliating!
But at least there was a silver lining—it had given them an unexpected moment of close contact.
Her gaze lingered on the flush spreading from his ears down to his neck. The corners of her lips curled up slightly before she sensibly let go and took a step back. Still, she made sure to explain, “When I was little, I was almost bitten by a snake, so I’ve been terrified of them ever since…”
She bit her lower lip, as if hesitating, then finally mustered the courage to ask in a small voice, “Do you think I’m overreacting? That I’m already grown up but still so lacking in composure?”
After speaking, she anxiously fiddled with her fingers, sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eye, clearly concerned about his opinion.
Zhou Yinghuai took in everything. In truth, he felt there was no need for her to care about what others thought. What did his opinion even matter? But when he opened his mouth to speak, his words took a different turn. In a deep voice, he said, “Everyone has something they fear. It’s normal.”
A completely neutral and official response.
Yet, it made the girl in front of him let out a long breath of relief. A faint smile flashed across her fair face—but then, that smile slowly faded.
“You’re bleeding!”
Her focus had been entirely stolen by the snake earlier, making her forget that she had injured Zhou Yinghuai in the first place.
Cheng Fangqiu smacked her forehead in frustration. How could she be so heartless as to care only about getting closer to him while forgetting something so important? She was utterly shameless!
A mix of guilt, nervousness, and gratitude surged within her. Without hesitation, she reached out to grab his arm, wanting to examine the wound closely. But he was too tall, forcing her to rise onto her tiptoes just to get a clear look at the injury near his shoulder.
Unbeknownst to them, the distance between them was closing once again.
“Does it hurt?”
The girl’s voice was soft, like a cool summer breeze brushing past his ears—soothing yet lingering. Zhou Yinghuai unconsciously rubbed his fingertips together. The incident had happened so suddenly that, in his moment of daze, he hadn’t managed to pull his hand away from hers in time.
But his mouth was faster than his brain, and before he could think, the words “It doesn’t hurt.” slipped out.
“How could it not hurt?” She furrowed her brows, casting him a coquettish yet captivating glance.
The bamboo basket had splinters, which had scraped his arm, leaving shallow wounds that oozed fresh red blood, dripping onto the ground like eerie, blooming flowers in the dirt. Fortunately, his shoulder and neck hadn’t been cut—just bruised into a large, reddened patch—but it still looked somewhat serious.
The more closely she examined it, the more that splash of red at the corner of her eyes stung.
This was the first time she had ever hurt someone. Saying she wasn’t afraid or flustered would be a lie. Her mind was a mess, her hands clumsy, and only after a long moment did she remember that she had a clean handkerchief in her pocket. Hastily, she pulled it out to help stop the bleeding. But the moment she touched his arm, he instinctively dodged.
She looked up at him blankly, confusion filling her clear eyes.
“It’s nothing serious. I—I can do it myself.”
Working in a machinery factory, injuries from machines were just part of daily life. He had suffered far worse, so this truly wasn’t anything significant—it was just a bit of blood, looking scarier than it actually was. Besides, she hadn’t meant to do it. A girl encountering a large snake in the mountains and panicking was completely understandable.
He didn’t blame her at all and hadn’t taken it to heart.
In truth, what unsettled and flustered him more was her unintentional closeness and touch.
She carried the scent of mild soap, mixed with a faint herbal fragrance. Strands of her hair, caught in the breeze, brushed lightly against his neck, bringing an inexplicable sensation that was both ambiguous and ticklish.
He raised his eyes slightly—only to meet her bewildered yet deeply concerned gaze. Her light brown pupils seemed to have tiny hooks, effortlessly stirring his emotions. His brows furrowed even tighter, and he quickly looked away, only to realize that his arm was still resting in her grasp.
The soft warmth of her touch seared into his skin, burning away his usual composure and clarity. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and a hint of discomfort surfaced on his face. Without a word, he subtly withdrew from her grasp, took the handkerchief from her, and instinctively took half a step back, widening the already close distance between them.
But just as he exhaled in relief, she leaned in again.
“Let me do it. It’ll be hard for you to handle on your own.”
The wound was in an awkward spot. He tried to reach it himself but found it difficult to clean properly. He had planned to just wipe it down casually and deal with it properly once he got back down the mountain, but she clearly couldn’t stand watching him struggle.
“This happened because of me—you got hurt because of me. Please, don’t be polite with me.”
Without waiting for his response, she snatched the handkerchief back and swiftly wiped away the blood before expertly wrapping the wound in a clean bandage, all in one fluid motion.
He didn’t even get a chance to react.
Back in the modern world, she had occasionally tied silk scarves on her handbags for decoration, so she was quite familiar with tying different kinds of bows. Naturally, as she finished bandaging his arm, she absentmindedly tied a neat little butterfly knot on it.
The contrast between his tanned skin and the pale, delicate bow was so stark that Zhou Yinghuai couldn’t help but glance at it twice. Finally, he spoke, “Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you. If not for you, I would’ve been bitten by that snake.”
Cheng Fangqiu patted her chest in lingering fear. The snake was long dead, but just remembering how it had reared up, flicking its tongue while lunging at her, made every hair on her body stand on end.
She bit her lower lip, took several deep breaths to steady her emotions, and then another thought suddenly surfaced in her mind.
“What are you doing here? What a coincidence.”
She had come up the mountain specifically to see him, but she hadn’t expected to run into him so conveniently.
“I came with the team leader and the others to pick wood. The machine broke down, so we need to replace one of the supports.” Zhou Yinghuai answered honestly. After a two-second pause, he added, “I heard your voice earlier from over there, so I came to check.”
They had already chosen the wood, and he had been preparing to help with the felling when he vaguely heard a familiar female voice calling out. He stopped what he was doing to listen, and the more he heard, the more something felt off. So, after informing the others, he followed the sound to investigate.
And, as it turned out—it really was her.
“Why did you come up the mountain alone?”
At this, Zhou Yinghuai couldn’t help but frown. The mountain was full of dangers—even grown men wouldn’t dare venture up alone, let alone a young girl. He didn’t know whether to call her brave or just reckless.
“No, no, no! I came with my younger brother and his classmate, but we accidentally got separated.”
Afraid of leaving a bad impression as someone thoughtless and careless, Cheng Fangqiu quickly waved her hands in denial.
Hearing this, Zhou Yinghuai recalled that she had indeed been calling out a name earlier. He nodded slightly, then suggested that she follow him back to regroup with the team leader and the others first—after which they could organize a proper search for her brother.
“Thank you so much!”
He had heard these words from her mouth too many times now. Zhou Yinghuai had almost become immune to them. This time, he simply nodded and took the lead, striding forward.
Along the way, she seemed unusually chatty, rambling on without a pause.
“……”
“By the way, Brother Huai, you’re so outstanding—you must already be married or at least in a relationship, right?”
After exchanging a few casual remarks, she suddenly shifted the topic, catching him off guard with an unexpected question.
The subject was too sensitive. Zhou Yinghuai instantly sensed something unusual. Without a word, he subtly turned his head to glance at her. From his angle, he could only see half of her delicate side profile, her earlobe—hidden beneath her soft hair—tinged with a faint blush, betraying the turmoil in her heart.
The girl’s embarrassment lay exposed before his eyes, with nowhere to hide.