Chapter 33: His Storm

"Got it. You won't die."

Those six words were like six ice-tempered steel needles, cast from Lin Feifei's lips, only to be driven one by one into Xu Yuan's heart.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that her heart, which was already heavy and racing from a high fever, felt as though it had come to a sudden, jarring halt.

The color drained from her face at a speed visible to the naked eye, leaving behind a deathly stillness, paler than the walls themselves.

So, this was the answer.

After she had staked everything on his ethereal, elusive future, after she had exhausted her body and soul, and finally collapsed in such a miserable state—this was all she was worth to him.

Got it.
You won't die.

How calm, how objective, how… Jiang Yi.

"Asshole! He’s a total asshole!" Watching Xu Yuan’s despondent state, Lin Feifei was so angry that tears welled up in her eyes again. She clenched her fists, wishing she could storm back to the project room and beat that cold-blooded man into the ground.

"Feifei, don't..." Xu Yuan opened her mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to defend him—things like "that’s just how he is" or "he’s just not good at expressing himself." But in the face of those three words, "won't die," such phrases felt so pale, so laughable.

In the end, she merely tugged at the corner of her mouth, forcing a smile that was harder to look at than tears, and then slowly pulled the quilt up to cover her entire body.

"Let me sleep for a while."

She spoke in a muffled voice, thick with congestion and utter exhaustion.

She needed a place dark enough and quiet enough to digest this belated, chilling, and stinging disappointment.

Lin Feifei looked at the small, trembling lump beneath the covers. Her heart ached beyond measure, yet she didn't know how to offer comfort. She could only sit silently by the bed, like a lioness guarding her cub, glaring vigilantly toward the door.

I do not know how much time had passed—just as Xu Yuan felt she might finally drift off into that suffocating darkness—when the infirmary door was pushed open gently.

The movement was light, a stark contrast to Lu Xingyu’s usual blustering, boisterous style.

Lin Feifei looked up, alert. When she saw who it was, she froze, and then, a surge of fury scorched its way straight to her head.

It was Jiang Yi.

He was dressed in a black hoodie, looking as though he had traveled a long way, his hair damp with a hint of sweat. His face, usually as cold as frost, now wore a rare, complex expression—a mix of impatience, awkwardness, and a trace of helplessness.

In his hand, he carried a high-end thermal food jar.

He stood there like an eccentric king who had wandered onto the wrong set, utterly out of place in the warm, quiet atmosphere of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?!" Lin Feifei stood up immediately, spreading her arms like a mother hen protecting her chicks, her voice dripping with hostility. "You aren't welcome here! Didn't you say she 'won't die'?!"

Jiang Yi’s brows furrowed imperceptibly.

Ignoring Lin Feifei’s interrogation, he cast his gaze toward the mound of blankets on the bed.

He was silent for a few seconds, then walked to the bedside with long strides and set the thermal jar down on the nightstand with a heavy thud.

The sound was jarringly sharp in the quiet room.

"The doctor said you have a fever." He spoke, his voice as cold and stiff as his movements. "Drink it."

Xu Yuan’s body stiffened violently beneath the quilt.

That voice...

She slowly pulled the quilt down from her head, revealing eyes that were red and swollen.

When she saw Jiang Yi standing by the bed, his expression awkward and his eyes instinctively darting away, she was completely stunned.

Why was he here?

Shouldn't he be in his project room, masterminding his plans?

"Drink what? A weasel wishing a chicken a Happy New Year—it’s nothing but bad intentions!" Lin Feifei remained relentless, like a cat with its fur on end. "Who knows what you put in there!"

Jiang Yi seemed to have finally exhausted all his patience. He whipped his head around, his dark, heavy eyes sweeping coldly over Lin Feifei.

"You can choose to pour it out yourself."

The look was cold, sharp, and carried the innate pressure of someone used to being in charge, silencing Lin Feifei instantly.

Just as the atmosphere in the room reached a breaking point, the door was once again slammed open with a violent crash.

"Damn it! Boss, you move too fast!"

Lu Xingyu’s boisterous voice rang out like a thunderclap. Leaning against the doorframe, he wheezed, "I barely parked the car and you vanished in a blink! The line at that 'Li’s' place in the South City is insane! It took me ten minutes just to find a parking spot, and you actually stood in line yourself?!"

...

The infirmary fell into a deathly silence.

The air seemed to freeze.

The fury on Lin Feifei’s face turned into shock.

Under the covers, Xu Yuan’s eyes, still raw from crying, suddenly widened.

He… stood in line himself?

Lu Xingyu seemed completely oblivious to the bizarre atmosphere. He walked in, and only when he saw the look on Jiang Yi’s face—dark enough to wring water from—did he belatedly scratch his head.

"Uh... Boss, did I... did I say something wrong?"

Jiang Yi did not speak.

He slowly turned his head, staring at Lu Xingyu with a cold, piercing gaze that could have sentenced a man to death.

If looks could kill, Lu Xingyu would have been reduced to ash.

"Get out."

The word was squeezed through Jiang Yi’s teeth.

"Huh? Oh..." Terrified, Lu Xingyu shuddered. His survival instinct kicking in, he turned and ran. He reached the door, then suddenly remembered something, poked his head back in, and added, "Um... Boss, that... the battle plan you asked me to bring..."

"Get out, both of you!"

"Oh..."

Lu Xingyu’s shadow vanished from the doorway.

The world finally fell quiet.

And it was awkward to the extreme.

For the first time, a crack appeared in Jiang Yi’s handsome face. A suspicious, faint red hue crept from his earlobes all the way down to his neck.

He looked like a proud black swan that had been plucked in public, radiating a volatile aura that screamed, *Don't look at me, don't talk to me, look at me again and I'll kill you.*

He turned abruptly and began to walk toward the door without a word.

"Jiang Yi!"

Xu Yuan didn't know where she found the courage, but she instinctively called out to him.

He stopped, his back as rigid as stone.

"That..." Xu Yuan looked at his back, at his reddened ears, and her heart began to beat wildly, uncontrollably, making her voice tremble. "Thank you for the... porridge."

The air remained still for several seconds.

"I just don't want my project lead to drop dead before the launch."

His cold, stiff voice came from ahead.

"So, Xu Yuan, don't die."

"You still owe me a user test report."

With that, he disappeared out the door, moving with the haste of someone fleeing a disaster.

Xu Yuan looked toward the door for a long, long time, unable to move.

It wasn't until her heart, which had been racing from the medicine and the shock, finally began to settle that she slowly lowered her head. She looked at the thermal jar on the nightstand, still venting steam, and the corners of her mouth curled upward uncontrollably.

She wore a weak, yet brilliant smile that she didn't even realize was there.

So, it turns out, there really is a kind of person in this world.

Whose storms are reserved for the rest of the world.

But whose tenderness is only willing to be hidden, however clumsily, inside a bowl of steaming porridge.

"Ahem."

An awkward cough sounded from the doorway.

Lu Xingyu’s large head poked in once more, holding a crumpled sheet of A4 paper.

"Um... Junior, I think... the Boss forgot to give you this."