The Red Apple and a Reluctant Companion

Cheng Meng instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.

The fist, carrying a gust of wind, sliced past his cheek. He believed he would at least be severely injured, if not killed, for Guo Yong was an Enigma and a killer.

In that instant, a mix of shock and fear seized him. His body trembled uncontrollably, as if he could already smell the overwhelmingly violent pheromones unique to an Enigma.

Even as a formidable Alpha, under such intense suppression, only one thought remained in his mind:

Surrender.

Yet, the anticipated pain never came. He felt himself tossed aside like a ragdoll, unceremoniously dropped to the ground.

“Stay in your lane. If you cause He Chuanrong any more trouble, I’ll make sure you regret it dearly.”

Guo Yong’s smiling voice drifted down from above. Cheng Meng’s vision swam, then he realized someone was grabbing his hand, unlocking his phone.

After noting the number, Guo Yong returned the phone to its owner. The silver-white device arced through the air like a shooting star, landing in Cheng Meng’s bewildered embrace before clattering softly to the ground.

“Tell your Brother Wu not to change his contact details too frequently.”

Guo Yong called out loudly towards the ‘Polar Night’ bar counter before driving away.

The sudden turn of events left the internet café manager stunned. He had never witnessed such a scene before, and now he cowered in a corner like a quail. He was grateful the counter was around a corner, shielding the online patrons from the view. Otherwise, this spectacle would surely have scared off a good number of customers. If the boss found out, he’d surely be fired.

“C-Cheng Ge.” The manager timidly shuffled to Cheng Meng’s feet, reaching out to help him up.

Cheng Meng violently slapped away the slightly trembling hand, glaring up at the manager with a fierce intensity. He secretly vowed to make He Chuanrong pay for the utter humiliation he had suffered today.

****

Meanwhile, He Chuanrong was biting his shirt hem, warming the medicinal wine in his hand before pressing it onto the bruises between his ribs. A searing pain shot through his entire body, making his face turn pale and his forehead glisten with a thin layer of sweat. Disconnected groans escaped his throat.

By the time he lowered his shirt, he was utterly exhausted, sliding down the bathroom wall to sit on the floor. The weather had already begun to cool, and soon a bone-chilling cold crept over his entire body.

A biting wind howled through the window cracks. He Chuanrong had no choice but to switch the electric blanket back on; he was terrified of catching a cold.

The next day, upon entering the school gates, he was greeted by a chorus of coughs. He Chuanrong unconsciously quickened his pace, leaving the sounds behind him. In just a few days, students in his class had been falling ill one after another, with several new empty seats appearing daily.

He Chuanrong, ever mindful, added more layers of clothing and wore a mask.

Upon returning home that evening, after much deliberation, he finally retrieved a black plastic bag from the deepest part of his drawer. Opening the medicine box, the light blue inhibitor prominently entered his vision.

He skillfully picked up a dose and began to inject it.

He had mostly used inferior inhibitors. He had hoped it would last him until New Year’s Day, especially since he only had one dose of the special inhibitor left and no time for a part-time job. However, given the current situation, he dared not gamble. The temperature had plummeted drastically, and the number of people with colds was steadily increasing. He worried he might be next.

As the inhibitor was pushed all the way in, He Chuanrong let out a long sigh of relief. He carefully placed the remaining inhibitors back into the drawer, then stared at the fresh red rash on his arm. Unlike the rashes caused by inferior inhibitors, the ones induced by the special inhibitor were not as dense, only sparsely scattered.

The first time he used the special inhibitor, He Chuanrong had gazed at the rash in a panic, believing he had paid a high price for a fake product. He later confronted the shop owner, who gave him a disdainful look that remained deeply etched in his mind.

Since then, he had tried many different shops, but the results were always the same: the products were indeed genuine, but they still caused rashes.

It was simply that these two types of rashes had subtle differences.

He Chuanrong pulled down his sleeve and returned to his desk, immersing himself in a sea of practice problems.

Early the next morning, to be safe, he still opted to go to school fully bundled up. During class, he noticed a few more empty seats.

Worst of all, Ji Ye also seemed to have caught a cold. He looked listless, his chin resting on his folded arms, staring blankly at the podium, his cheeks flushed.

“Did you take any cold medicine?”

He Chuanrong watched his increasingly reddened cheeks, finally asking.

Ji Ye’s head felt heavy, his body was weak, and his bones ached. He was too uncomfortable to utter a single word, so he laboriously propped up his chin and gently shook his head.

He Chuanrong nodded in understanding, then turned his gaze back to the podium. As soon as class ended, he shot out of the classroom like the wind, heading for the infirmary.

“What a coincidence, Vice Class Monitor He.” Tian Jingwen, who was waiting nearby, saw the boy rush in frantically. She stared for a few seconds before recognizing him as He Chuanrong. “Did you catch a cold too?” she greeted.

He Chuanrong shook his head.

However, he told the school doctor he needed cold medicine.

This immediately drew many curious glances, all wondering who he was getting medicine for.

He Chuanrong, however, paid them no mind. After receiving the medicine, he glanced in Tian Jingwen’s direction, asking if she was leaving.

“One minute.” Tian Jingwen helped a girl hang her IV drip, then unplugged a fully charged hot water bottle from the socket by the heater and placed it in her lap. Only after settling everything did she leave with He Chuanrong.

On the way, she tightened her collar and jogged behind him, heading towards the convenience store.

Withered yellow leaves swirled in the wind for a long time, either landing on the bluestone path or drifting into the classroom windows.

Ji Ye pulled his collar tighter, finally unable to resist tapping Zhang Qian, who was listening to Zhou Yao explain a problem.

“Spit it out, if you have something to say.”

Zhang Qian didn’t turn his head, speaking as usual.

After waiting for more than ten seconds, no sound came from behind him. He put down his pen, turned around, and was startled by the sight before him.

Zhang Qian placed the back of his hand on Ji Ye’s forehead, then quickly withdrew it, exclaiming in surprise, “Good heavens, why are you suddenly so hot? You were fine this morning when you left!”

Ji Ye was too weak to speak, so he laboriously gestured towards the window of the adjacent group.

Zhang Qian understood his meaning, stood up, and closed the window.

“I’ll ask Old Wen for leave for you. Should I take you home?”

He looked at the flushed, listless Ji Ye, asking worriedly.

The other boy stubbornly waved his hand.

Seeing this, Zhang Qian frowned, looking around. Just as he was about to ask a classmate for a hot water bottle, a hand warmer appeared before him. He took it from Zhou Yao, thanked her, and quickly tore open the packaging, tucking it into Ji Ye’s hand.

“I’ll go to the infirmary to get you some medicine.”

With that, he turned to leave the classroom, but after a few steps, he turned back.

“Get ready to take your medicine.” He nudged Ji Ye’s arm.

Ji Ye groggily lifted his head, a buzzing sound filling his mind. His chin rested on his arms, and his breathing was rapid. The surrounding sounds drifted in and out, loud and soft. He wanted to listen clearly, but he was incredibly sleepy, his eyelids feeling like a thousand pounds. Just opening his eyes consumed all his strength.

Ye Huicheng, who also saw He Chuanrong, secretly tightened his grip on his hand warmer, gritting his back teeth. His gaze wished to bore holes into He Chuanrong, who was entering with Tian Jingwen.

He Chuanrong, holding a half-empty bottle of hot water, strode towards his seat.

He divided the medicine into his palm.

“Take your medicine first.”

His tone was devoid of any inflection. Yet, Zhang Qian detected a hint of concern, sighing inwardly that Ji Ye’s ‘class pet’ buff always activated at crucial moments.

Ji Ye leaned against the edge of the desk, laboriously picking up the capsule and white tablet, swallowing them all at once with warm water.

“Thank you,”

he said.

He Chuanrong lowered his gaze, worry spilling from his eyes. He wondered why there was still no sign of improvement.

“Oh, our ‘Old Eleven’ is practically becoming an ‘old friend’ now.” Tian Jingwen, who had followed, teased, distributing snacks to a few people. She then told him not to push himself and to go home if he really couldn’t cope.

Ji Ye said he would see how it went and would ask for leave in the afternoon if he didn’t improve.

Upon hearing about taking leave, He Chuanrong’s fingers, clutching his pen, unconsciously tightened. His eyes dimmed, and his chest felt as if a giant rock was blocking it, making breathing difficult.

His emotions rippled out once more, like shimmering water, though no one noticed. Even he hadn’t fully understood why these ripples had stirred.

“An old friend, as red as an apple.” Zhang Qian mused for a moment, then quipped. He then picked up Ji Ye’s homework book, asking as if looking into a mirror.

“Mirror, mirror, who is the fairest of them all?”

He changed his tone, answering his own question, “It’s you, it’s you.”

Finally, he added, “But Vice Class Monitor He is also the most handsome, with his beauty, kindness, and dedication.”

He spoke the truth.

“Tsk, quite the chatterbox, aren’t you? Then this ‘red apple’ is entrusted to your care.” Tian Jingwen tore open Ji Ye’s favorite snack, handed it to him, and said.

“Oh, a red apple? Is it the one that poisoned the princess?” Zhang Qian’s facial expression was exaggerated. He held the book with both hands, feigning heartache, and turned towards He Chuanrong. “Beautiful princess, whatever you do, don’t bite the red apple. It’s poisoned.”

At these words, the surrounding few burst into laughter. He Chuanrong paused his writing, his gaze shifting to Ji Ye, whose cheeks were still flushed. Then he looked at the smiling faces around him.

He, too, offered a faint smile, briefly blending in with everyone.

“It’s the prince,” Ji Ye corrected hoarsely.

“Dare to contradict me?” Zhang Qian, seeing his listless appearance, swiftly pulled Ji Ye’s jacket hood over his head with a *swoosh* and jokingly called out, “What a rare opportunity! Avenge your grudges, right your wrongs!”

He placed his hand on Ji Ye’s head, tapping it gently. Immediately, those watching also ran over, imitating him and tapping lightly.

He Chuanrong, his deskmate, quietly watched it all unfold. He wanted to shield Ji Ye from these people, but he dared not act. After all, they were only playing around. If he were to intervene rashly, it would only be detrimental to Ji Ye.

Fortunately, the class bell finally rang, and the playful crowd returned to their seats.

Ji Ye lifted his head from the desk, adjusted his hood, and turned to complain to He Chuanrong, “Vice Class Monitor, look how they’re bullying a patient! You really must punish them properly.”

Perhaps due to his cold, tears welled in Ji Ye’s eyes. He pouted, saying aggrievedly, “Especially Zhang Qian, the ringleader.”

“Everyone who took part today will stay behind for cleanup duty.” He Chuanrong nodded reassuringly at him, then announced loudly.

“Vice Class Monitor, can we just let it go this once? We promise we won’t do it again!”

The others laughed, begging for mercy.

“Bullying the class pet? That’s an extra day of cleanup duty!” The labor committee member, Chen Wang, chuckled. “Especially Zhang Qian, an extra week!”

“Hey, Big Wangzi, how can you play favorites? You were involved too! You should clean up with me for a week!” Zhang Qian shouted.

“Alright, alright, I’ll lead by example, okay?” Chen Wang retorted.

At his words, the entire class erupted in laughter.

****

Before evening self-study, Ji Ye’s condition had improved significantly. After class, the group walked home together.

Zhang Qian, as usual, walked Tian Jingwen home. He Chuanrong, seeing that Ji Ye was still unwell, decided to escort him all the way to his doorstep.

Upon reaching the front gate, Ji Ye turned, about to invite He Chuanrong inside for a bit, when his mother’s call came through.

“Ah Dai, I’ll be busy for a while longer. Auntie has already gone home from work. Go stay at Zhang Qian’s place, and I’ll pick you up when I get back.”

Ji Ye turned to look at He Chuanrong, his expression quite awkward. He finally bit the bullet and said, “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be fine.”

He Chuanrong subtly shifted his weight, but still heard Ji Ye mention his name to the person on the other end of the line.

Just as Ji Ye was in a predicament, He Chuanrong offered to stay with him for a while.

“Then I’ll have to trouble you…” The voice on the other end of the phone said many polite things.

He Chuanrong calmly replied that it was no trouble at all.

Ji Ye’s home was a standalone three-story villa, its decor understated yet luxurious.

He Chuanrong followed Ji Ye into the living room, where the latter invited him to the dining table for some late-night dessert. He wasn’t hungry, but still accepted the dessert from Ji Ye’s hand.

After supper, Ji Ye took his cold medicine. He felt bad about delaying He Chuanrong, yet he was afraid to be alone at home, fearing the dark nightmare that might engulf him at any moment. So, he was somewhat conflicted.

As if sensing Ji Ye’s dilemma, He Chuanrong proactively offered, “I’ll wait with you.”

Ji Ye’s eyes lit up. He asked joyfully, “Really? But won’t that delay your time?”

He Chuanrong smiled. “My practice problems are in my backpack. It won’t.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I absolutely won’t disturb your studying!” Ji Ye promised, feeling both guilty and grateful.

During their wait, He Chuanrong learned that Ji Ye’s parents were business owners. His father was often away, and his mother managed a clothing store, sometimes returning home after ten o’clock.

He Chuanrong listened patiently as Ji Ye spoke. As he listened, the other boy’s voice grew softer. He noticed Ji Ye’s sleepy eyes and frequent yawns.

“Why don’t you go rest first?”

Ji Ye shook his head, trying to stay awake. He felt bad leaving He Chuanrong alone here, so he forced himself to stay alert and said:

“I’ll go get a blanket. You can rest a bit too.”

The house was very warm, and even with a thin blanket, there was no hint of cold.

He Chuanrong turned to look at Ji Ye, who was curled up on the sofa with a casual thin blanket. Strands of hair clung to his forehead, the blood vessels on his thin eyelids were clearly visible, and his long lashes cast a shadow. His breathing was shallow. Ji Ye’s features still held a childlike innocence, and with his flushed cheeks, his skin appeared even more like white porcelain.

He gently draped the blanket Ji Ye had given him over the other boy. He was about to get up and pack his schoolbag, but his shirt hem was softly tugged.

“Ge, can you not leave? Stay with me a little longer. I’m scared.”