Zhuang Zi’ang returned to his rented room and left his clothes outside the bathroom, from which the sound of running water could be heard.

  “Little Butterfly, I’ve put your clothes here. I’m a little sleepy—I’m going to take a quick nap on the bed.”

  After hearing Su Yudiel’s response, he turned and went back to the bedroom. Having been caught in the rain, he now had a fever and his head felt foggy.

  After a while, Su Yudiel came out of the bathroom, having changed into the new clothes Zhuang Zi’ang had bought for her. Her eyes were still a bit red and puffy. When she entered the bedroom, she found Zhuang Zi’ang lying on the bed with a pale face—something was not right.

  “Big Dummy, what’s wrong with you?” Su Yudiel said as she gave him a gentle shake.

  “I’m fine. A nap will fix me,” Zhuang Zi’ang mumbled, his voice thick with a nasal tone.

  Reaching out, Su Yudiel touched his forehead and immediately withdrew her hand—it was scalding hot. Overwhelmed with guilt, she murmured, “I’m sorry… it’s all my fault. I always end up making those around me worry.”

  Soon, the rain subsided. Su Yudiel went to a nearby pharmacy, bought some fever medicine, and gave it to Zhuang Zi’ang. Then she pressed a cool towel to his forehead to lower his temperature.

  In his hazy state, Zhuang Zi’ang savored the gentle care of the girl. Had he not opened his eyes to see the lovely silhouette by the bedside immediately, he might have thought he was dreaming. Ever since childhood, he had always endured his illness on his own. Being cared for with such meticulous attention was a feeling he had almost forgotten.

  After who knows how long, a soft voice from Little Butterfly reached his ear:

  “Big Dummy, you need to take good care of yourself. Get well soon.”

  “I can’t be so selfish as to only indulge in pleasure—I have to go back and be with Grandma.”

  “And even when I’m not here, you must stay happy.”

  In his muddled state, Zhuang Zi’ang felt a sudden pang in his heart at those words. He forced his eyes open. “Little Butterfly, what did you say?”

  At that very moment, Little Butterfly leaned over and pressed her lips to his. The sensation of her kiss was so real. Startled, Zhuang Zi’ang’s body stiffened; he clutched the bedsheet tightly with both hands and his eyes went wide. His mind went completely bnk, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. So close by, Little Butterfly kept her eyes closed, her eyeshes quivering ever so slightly. How he wished time could stand still at that moment—till the end of time, until the seas run dry and the rocks crumble.

  As the parting kiss ended, Little Butterfly lifted her head and a single tear slid down Zhuang Zi’ang’s cheek.

  “Big Dummy, I’m going to miss you. Wait for me to come back.”

  After casting one st gnce at him, she gathered all her courage and dashed out of the bedroom.

  “Little Butterfly, where are you going?” Zhuang Zi’ang cried out in panic.

  All he heard in response was the heavy sound of the door smming shut. In that instant, the whole world seemed to fall silent.

  Zhuang Zi’ang struggled to get off the bed, dragging his feeble body as he opened the door to peer downstairs. The graceful figure had long since vanished without a trace. Desperately, he picked up his phone and called Little Butterfly—but all he heard was the cold message of a turned-off line.

  “Little Butterfly, Little Butterfly…”

  Leaning against the wall, he slowly slid down to the floor, softly murmuring her name.

  This time, how long will you be gone?

  Will I ever be able to wait for you to come back?

  In that moment, the young man’s already dim world was about to plunge into a bleak, silent darkness. In the gss aquarium, the goldfish swam in carefree pairs. Zhuang Zi’ang sat on the floor, staring bnkly at them for what felt like an eternity.

  “If togetherness is destined, why fear death? I’d rather be a pair of mandarin ducks than envy the immortals.”

  That day, Zhuang Zi’ang felt like a walking corpse. Compared to the sorrow in his heart, this physical pain was trivial.

  Death—was it a torment or a relief?

  The next day was Monday. Although his fever had broken, Zhuang Zi’ang’s head still felt heavy. He forced his weakened body to go to school, clinging to the st moments of being with his teachers and cssmates—he couldn’t bear the thought of being so alone that if he died, no one would notice. Only Zhang Zhiyuan and Lin Mushi knew about his condition. Seeing his unwell appearance, they expressed extra concern and offered many comforting words, but Zhuang Zi’ang did his best to appear nonchant and urged them not to worry.

  He pnned to check during the noon break at the West Campus to see if Little Butterfly had come to css—even if he couldn’t exchange a single word, just catching a glimpse of her from afar would be enough.

  “Son, are you alright? Why do you always look so troubled?”

  During the break, Li Huangxuan asked with genuine concern. Although Li was generally carefree, he couldn’t help but notice that Zhuang Zi’ang’s mood was especially down.

  Zhuang Zi’ang offered an excuse: “I watched a tragic movie over the weekend—it left my heart feeling so heavy.”

  “Movies are fake. Come on, as a man, can you really cry over a film?” Li Huangxuan replied skeptically.

  Looking at his best friend, Zhuang Zi’ang suddenly decided to open up. Perhaps speaking his thoughts out loud would ease the burden.

  “That movie’s lead character was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The doctor said he had at most three months to live. He pnned to face death calmly, but then he unexpectedly met a girl he loved deeply. What do you think—should such love be kept hidden or boldly expressed?”

  Li Huangxuan furrowed his brow. This was the kind of topic that seemed meant for girls.

  I’m a born singleton—am I even the right person to discuss this?

  Noticing Li’s hesitation, Zhuang Zi’ang forced a smile. “Let’s just discuss it—if you were in that situation, what would you do?”

  “I think if someone only has a few days left to live, they should quietly find a pce to die rather than burdening others,” Li Huangxuan said, stroking his chin.

  “What?” Zhuang Zi’ang’s heart skipped a beat.

  From the front row, Lin Mushi suddenly turned around, her eyes brimming with tears. She gred at Li Huangxuan and snapped, “What are you babbling about?”

  It turned out she had been eavesdropping on their conversation all along. She alone understood how deeply Li Huangxuan’s offhand remark would wound Zhuang Zi’ang. Li Huangxuan and Lin Mushi had never seen eye to eye, and he had deliberately picked a fight with her.

  “What did I say that’s wrong? When someone is about to die, why even talk about love? If you can’t offer a future, why get involved at all? If a man truly loves a woman, he should let her go so she can find happiness again…”

  In his attempt to retort to Lin Mushi, his tone was forceful—unaware that his words were like sharp knives, piercing his best friend’s heart.

  Zhuang Zi’ang’s expression froze as he clenched his fists, his heart aching so much he could barely breathe.

  “Zhuang Zi’ang, don’t listen to him—he’s just a forever-alone guy who doesn’t understand love at all,” Lin Mushi cautioned gently.

  “No, he’s right,” Zhuang Zi’ang replied hoarsely, his eyes having lost all their luster.

  Indeed, if you’re about to die, why even pursue her? The deeper the love, the more painful it becomes in the end. True love means considering the other’s feelings. He didn’t want to see Little Butterfly hurt again.

  At noon, Zhuang Zi’ang abandoned the thought of going to the West Campus. He restrained himself and did not call or message Little Butterfly. If he didn’t see her return this time, then perhaps it was best to sever all ties.

  “Little Butterfly, forget me—live happily!”