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Actually, You Xin was not ugly. Individually, his features were only average, but combined with his face and bearing, he was rather attractive. Upon first meeting, Lin Xia felt as if a gentle spring breeze had brushed past her.

Describing Chen Zimo’s appearance was easy—words like refined and perfect came to mind. But describing a man like You Xin left Lin Xia at a loss. She realized that such men were the hardest to put into words.

Gentle and elegant, like jade or bamboo—these could describe his demeanor, but no suitable adjective came to mind for his looks, no matter how hard she tried.

Now, watching the slight upward curve of You Xin’s lips, Lin Xia’s restless heart, stirred by the oppressive heat, quietly settled.

Looking at You Xin’s unremarkable features, a single word surfaced in her mind: comfortable.

Yes, comfortable.

The two of them had been standing at the airport entrance for some time. Zhou Meng clearly drew more female attention than You Xin. Yet when one observed You Xin closely, the feeling of warmth and vulnerability he evoked was so soothing it made one sigh in admiration.

This was why Xie Xitong once said many girls had pursued You Xin since childhood. Such a temperament and character stood out even in a city like B.

“How’s Tongtong now?” Before Lin Xia could ponder further, Zhou Meng abruptly asked about Sun Zhao and Xie Xitong, his voice loud enough to break her thoughts.

Surprised by his urgency and recalling Zhou Meng’s usual flattering attitude toward Xie Xitong, Lin Xia furrowed her brow. If Tongtong didn’t like him, that would be one thing. But if she had feelings for him and had now fallen ill like this, it was uncertain whether Zhou Meng wouldn’t change his attitude.

The patient was in a sensitive state and must not be disturbed.

“She’s awake now but has fallen asleep again. Are you heading to the hospital?” Zhao Qian asked.

You Xin nodded gently. “Of course, we should first check on Aunt and Tongtong.”

Though Zhou Meng didn’t understand all these social nuances, he was genuinely worried about Xie Xitong. Ever since he heard about her injury, he had urged You Xin, then used his close friendship with Chen Zimo as an excuse to come along.

Hearing You Xin’s words, he nodded in agreement. “We’re not tired. Let’s see Tongtong first. I’m really worried.”

Lin Xia glanced at him in surprise. His words were quite blunt, but Zhou Meng was usually a bit frivolous, always joking with girls. Zhao Qian and Sun Xiaoxiao, however, did not think much of it.

The three impatient ones walked ahead, with Lin Xia and You Xin following behind.

“Long time no see. You look like you’ve lost some weight,” You Xin said. Though young, his demeanor was composed and calm, as if strolling leisurely in a quiet mountain valley despite the bustling airport.

His gentle words calmed the heart and gave a sense of certainty. What he said made one want to agree without question, though the change was imperceptible—like spring rain, subtle and transformative.

Lin Xia tilted her head, gazing at You Xin’s serene, moonlit profile. A warmth rose in her heart. Unlike Chen Zimo’s aloofness or Zhou Meng’s sunshine, this kind of gentle man often struck a chord with young women.

Had she not been given a second chance at life, had she met him in a past life, she might not have liked him either.

What a pity...

Lin Xia sighed inwardly. She was no longer the naive girl she once was. Even her feelings for Chen Zimo were mostly memories now.

Young boys’ affections, though pure, were shallow.

Just like Zhou Meng’s fleeting fondness for Xie Xitong—how long would it last?

As Zhang Xiaoxian said, with time, we forget how we once loved someone wholeheartedly, forget their tenderness, forget everything they did for us. We no longer feel for them—we no longer love them.

Why does this happen?

Because our love succumbs to time.

First, love makes us forget time; then time makes us forget love.

The purest feelings are also the most hurtful, for time is merciless.

Though she knew this, being cared for by someone—unless one had a heart of stone—still stirred some emotion. Lin Xia smiled.

“Thank you for your concern. You look a bit thinner too; I suppose it’s from worrying about Tongtong!”

You Xin thought for a moment, then smiled faintly without replying.

Zhou Meng and the others had already hailed a taxi and waved to Lin Xia and You Xin. “Xiaxia, A Xin, hurry up!”

The two quickened their pace, escorting You Xin and Zhou Meng to the hospital entrance. Just as they got out of the car, Lin Xia’s phone rang.

She took it out—it was Sister Miao.

Seeing Zhou Meng’s anxious expression, Lin Xia said to the four, “You guys go ahead. I need to take this call. I’ll find you inside later.”

The others said nothing. Zhou Meng nodded, “Alright, we’ll go in first.” Without another glance at Lin Xia, he went inside.

“Hey, you don’t even know the way,” Zhao Qian and Sun Xiaoxiao hurried after him.

You Xin thought it over and followed them inside.

“Hey, Sister Miao—”

“Xiaxia, where are you now? Still at the hospital with your classmate?”

“Yes. Sister Miao, is something wrong?”

On the other end, Chen Qing’s voice was excited. “Wow, your new story is so good! All the editors in our department have read it. The chief editor decided to publish it in the journal immediately and also to print it as a book.”

Chen Qing sighed with admiration. “I never expected you’d be so good at writing ancient palace stories. I thought you were only good at youthful, fresh tales. You really hide your talent well.”

The inpatient area was a place for rest, with a small grove nearby. Finding a bench, Lin Xia continued the call, tiredly rubbing her forehead.

“Sister Miao, you flatter me. At my age and with my experience, it’s just that I’ve read some history books—fiction, really. I don’t deserve such praise.”

Chen Qing laughed. “Stop being modest. You deserve it. After reading your work yesterday, I even bought a copy of Dream of the Red Chamber to compare. Your writing skills are truly profound. You effortlessly incorporate many details, and many of the allusions I couldn’t find in the original text. The chief editor asked me to check with you about which books you drew those references from. Maybe we can add annotations in the publication.”

Lin Xia understood why Sister Miao sounded so formal today.

Since she’d been writing historical pieces, her speech had taken on a similar tone.

She thought for a moment. “Besides Shen Fu’s Six Records of a Floating Life, I can’t recall much else. I’ll look it up when I get back and make a list for you.”

“Good. Don’t forget to keep writing, okay? As your number one fan, I’m waiting for updates every day.”

“Got it.”

“Of course, while your writing is important, your health is even more so. Make sure to rest. I’ll come visit you once I’m off.”

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