Infirmary Care and Classroom Whispers

“I don’t know,” Jiang Li said, her voice laced with panic.

“Can we find out?”

Paradoxically, Jiang Li became the calmer of the two, understanding that while the question couldn’t be posed directly to the unconscious girl, the information could certainly be retrieved.

As if roused from a daze, Jiang Wan swiftly powered on the computer and logged into the school system using her identity code.

“Input her student ID, and you can search for her past medical history,” Jiang Wan instructed, pulling Jiang Li closer to the desk before positioning herself beside the bed. “I’ll assess her current state.”

Jiang Li nodded, settling onto the chair, and strained to recall her roommate’s student ID number.

Involuntarily, Jiang Li’s gaze drifted, finding Jiang Wan by Xi Yao’s side, holding a stethoscope and murmuring softly:

“Forgive me,” Jiang Wan whispered, “this is an emergency, and I’m only doing this to help you.”

With that, she gently slipped the stethoscope beneath the collar of the girl’s white T-shirt.

‘Uh, there’s no need to apologize to me for something like this, is there? It’s just standard medical procedure; I can understand.’

‘Ah, wait, the crucial point is that Xi Yao and I aren’t a couple, so even if this wasn’t normal, there’d be no need to apologize to me… or would there?’

‘I have a nagging feeling something is amiss, but never mind. My roommate is in a critical state; it’s better to ascertain the situation first.’

Abandoning her tangled thoughts, Jiang Li delved into the depths of her memory, finally retrieving Xi Yao’s student ID number—a sequence she had glimpsed by chance on their very first day.

1141314…

“Sister,” Jiang Li announced a mere half-minute later, delivering the good news, “the records indicate no history of heart disease.”

Jiang Wan also let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her delicate hand slowly withdrawing from beneath Xi Yao’s shirt. “Her heartbeat is still normal too.”

It was nothing serious.

Lowering the stethoscope, the beautiful older sister regained her usual composed and gentle composure. “You should go to class now; she only needs to rest here for a while.”

“…Okay.”

Jiang Li cast a glance at the infirmary bed, where the sleeping girl’s tranquil face seemed to drift in a peaceful dream.

‘Since Sister says she’s fine, then everything must be alright.’

“I’ll go to class first. I’ll come back to see her at noon.”

“Mm, remember to ask for a leave for her.”

Having returned to her usual self, Jiang Wan was both gentle and thoughtful, meticulously considering every detail.

Jiang Li took one last look; Xi Yao slept profoundly, her even breaths causing her chest to gently rise and fall, a subtle pulse that clearly showcased the strong vitality of her heart.

She only then left with peace of mind.

****

Having been delayed, Jiang Li found that the first class of the morning had already begun. The pathways were practically deserted, save for a few unfortunate souls, tardy just like her.

Reaching Liberal Arts Class Two, Jiang Li knocked on the door and announced, “Reporting.”

“The very first class of the morning, and you’re this late? Get in here quickly, and then go stand at the back—”

The first period was mathematics, and the stern math teacher had intended to send the latecomer to stand at the back. However, upon a second glance, she realized the person standing at the classroom door was the beautiful girl with light, shoulder-length hair.

It was Jiang Li, the legendary top student of the second year.

For a moment, whispers filled the classroom.

“No way, Jiang Li is actually late?”

“Honestly, even if she skipped class entirely, it wouldn’t make much difference, would it? I hear she’s already mastered all the material for this semester.”

“While that’s logically true, she’s never been late or left early before. Today marks a first.”

“I wonder what she was doing in the dorm that made her so late.”

“Oh, and Xi Yao isn’t here either. Could it be…?”

The math teacher hesitated for a moment before abandoning the idea of making Jiang Li stand at the back. “Go back to your seat quickly,” she instructed, “and don’t be late again.”

Jiang Li nodded subtly and made her way to her seat.

“Alright, continue class!”

Silence descended upon the classroom, yet the gazes fixed upon her only intensified. The emptiness of her deskmate’s seat, glaringly obvious, only amplified the attention once she had settled.

The weekend had just concluded, prompting everyone to wonder: why were Jiang Li and Xi Yao, the subjects of recent rumors, either late or entirely absent?

Inevitably, a flurry of conjectures arose in the students’ minds—some audacious, some apt, some rational, some metaphysical, and some deceptively simple yet profound.

Jiang Li silently picked up her book, acutely aware of the lingering gazes and the thoughts swirling behind them.

Had this been just two days prior, her composure might have faltered, but the conversation from yesterday had steeled her, allowing her to face everything with serene indifference.

All this clamor, she knew, was merely a means to an end. As long as she firmly held onto the truth of her own heterosexuality (TL Note: 直女, ‘zhínǚ,’ literally ‘straight girl,’ implies a heterosexual woman, often used in web novels to emphasize a character’s lack of romantic interest in other women despite suggestive circumstances.), her heart would remain undisturbed.

More than any of the classroom gossip, Jiang Li worried about Xi Yao in the infirmary. Surely she was feeling better by now?

After math class ended, the homeroom teacher called her to the office.

“What happened to Xi Yao?” Lao Ban inquired, “Why isn’t she in class?”

“She fainted during her morning run,” Jiang Li replied truthfully. “She’s still in the infirmary.”

Lao Ban was slightly stunned. “Morning run?”

Knowing how peculiar this sounded, Jiang Li patiently elaborated: “Yes, perhaps she hadn’t exercised in a while, or maybe she didn’t get enough sleep. Regardless, she simply collapsed while running. Fortunately, the school doctor examined her and found nothing serious, only that she needs rest…”

“No, no, no, I’m not puzzled by the fact that she fainted during a morning run,” Lao Ban interjected, her eyes narrowing with a peculiar expression. “I’m just thinking, ‘She actually went for a morning run?’”

That girl, with her ample chest, wasn’t skilled at running, nor did she enjoy it; otherwise, her physical education grades wouldn’t have been so abysmal.

“Yes, a morning run,” Jiang Li stated impassively. “Life lies in movement (TL Note: A Chinese proverb, 运动在于生命, meaning ‘Exercise is essential for life and health.’).”

Lao Ban pondered for a moment, then a sudden realization dawned on her. “You may go back now,” she said. “When she returns, tell her to come see me.”

****

Xi Yao slowly stirred from her peaceful slumber, her body feeling utterly drained, making even the simple act of opening her eyes a struggle.

Memories from before her collapse slowly surfaced, and she gradually pieced together what had happened: the run beneath the morning sun, the fleeting sensation of rediscovered youth, and then… unconsciousness.

‘How utterly mortifying!’

“You’re awake,” a gentle, older sisterly voice murmured beside her. “You must be hungry, having missed breakfast. I’ll prepare something for you.”

Xi Yao softly managed to articulate, “Where am I…?”

Opening her eyes, she saw pristine white sheets and a plain ceiling. The room was meticulously arranged, giving it the air of a somewhat formal setting.

“This is the school infirmary; you fainted while jogging,” the gentle voice explained.

Xi Yao turned her head, her eyes falling upon a graceful figure seated by a counter, her delicate hands meticulously peeling shrimp.

As if sensing the girl’s gaze, the older sister looked over, her beautiful eyes brimming with a gentle warmth. “Your roommate arranged for your leave,” she said reassuringly. “Rest easy; the porridge will be ready shortly.”

Xi Yao’s heart began to thrum with a rapid, excited beat.

This school doctor, this older sister, was so beautiful and so gentle. And, in a fleeting moment, there was even a faint sense of familiarity about her.

‘It truly felt like meeting an old friend for the first time.’

“Um, are you making porridge for me?” Xi Yao suddenly realized, a question forming on her lips.

It was already ten in the morning; breakfast had long since passed, and lunch seemed too premature. Clearly, the gentle older sister wasn’t preparing it for herself.

‘Was she preparing it just for me?’

“Mm,” Jiang Wan softly affirmed. “Since you’ve just woken up, something easily digestible and nutritious would be best for you.”

As she spoke, she gently added the freshly peeled shrimp into the simmering porridge.

Xi Yao was astonished by the sight.

While cooking porridge might be simple enough, the fact that she had specially peeled shrimp just for this meal, just for Xi Yao, was truly touching.

‘The older sister truly possesses the compassionate heart of a healer.’