Tan Jing knew he was being stubborn to avoid needles and didn’t let him weasel out this time. “You wanna walk to the School Infirmary yourself, or should I carry you?”
“…”
If Tan Jing actually carried him, he’d have to transfer abroad overnight with Shu Yichen.
He Siheng stood grudgingly. “I’ll walk.”
In the School Infirmary, the school doctor checked the mercury thermometer. “Thirty-nine degrees. Let’s get you on an IV.”
At “IV,” He Siheng felt the sky falling. Desperate for a save before it did: “Can I just take fever meds? Or physical cooling?”
“We can try physical cooling first,” the doctor said, seeing his needle phobia. “I’ll prescribe a suppository.”
He Siheng lit up at the first half, then paled at the second.
He’d used those as a kid for fevers—effective physical reducers, but you shoved them up your ass, and you couldn’t do it solo.
He Siheng instinctively glanced at Tan Jing, who arched a brow and mischievously twisted the look into a plea. “Want me to help?”
“…”
He Siheng whipped his head away, face burning hotter. “I’ll take the needle.”
His needle fear was mostly psychological. He was sensitive to pain, but not pampered—just hated sharp things piercing skin into veins.
It stemmed from childhood vaccines, especially rabies shots: agonizing injection, arm useless for days after.
But compared to a suppository, needles won.
“Go e-easy.”
From the doctor patting his hand for a vein, He Siheng was already warning, his other hand unconsciously clutching Tan Jing’s shirt hem beside him.
“Relax,” the doctor said, swabbing alcohol on his hand. “Your veins are thin; tensing makes it harder.”
He Siheng opened his mouth, but a knock sounded at the School Infirmary door. A weak female voice: “Can I get some Brulo… Tan Jing? He Siheng? What are you doing here?”
Zhang Xunyue spotted the two familiar faces, then the doctor prepping He Siheng’s needle. “He Siheng, you sick?”
Seeing her, He Siheng instantly released Tan Jing’s shirt and straightened up, dropping the near-death act.
Tan Jing watched his performative tough-guy routine, subtly quirking his lips, and nodded the doctor on.
Oblivious, He Siheng cleared his throat, feigning ease. “Just a slight fever, getting a shot. You okay—”
Mid-sentence, the cold needle pierced his vein. The sharp sting ripped out an undignified howl: “—Ow ow ow ow ow!”
Zhang Xunyue: “…”
It was like walking into pediatrics.
To save face, He Siheng kept his needle phobia airtight from peers—only family and Tan Jing knew. Exposed to Zhang Xunyue, he wanted to die of shame.
Face flaming, he flopped onto the sickbed, yanked the blanket over himself, draped his jacket over his face—one fluid motion, just short of a tombstone: Here Lies He Siheng—Burn Incense.
Tan Jing tugged his jacket corner. “Not stuffy?”
He Siheng closed his eyes, devoid of worldly wants. “Let me go in peace.”
Tan Jing: “…”
Zhang Xunyue couldn’t hold back a laugh, which made her stomach ache worse. She caught her breath weakly and promised, “I won’t tell.”
He Siheng mumbled thanks from under the jacket. “You’re a good person.”
Then it hit him—could Little Strawberry be Zhang Xunyue?
Lively chatter, knew Tan Jing since middle school, and crushing on him.
The more he thought, the more it fit. He yanked off the jacket, sat bolt upright, and blurted, “Little Strawberry?”
Both in the room turned. Zhang Xunyue blinked, tilting her head in confusion. “Huh?”
Her reaction screamed she had no clue what Little Strawberry even was.
No code match. He Siheng dry-laughed. “…Nothing.”
He awkwardly turned, locking eyes with Tan Jing beside him.
Those pretty, deep eyes flickered with some ambiguous emotion.
Before He Siheng could parse it, Tan Jing asked, “What’s Little Strawberry?”
“Just… suddenly craving strawberries.”
No way was He Siheng spilling details—pull one thread, and his Fan Support Group infiltration would unravel. The shame alone warranted immediate emigration.
He abruptly changed topics. “Class has been going forever—why aren’t you back in class?”
Tan Jing took the bait easily this time. “You want me to leave you to watch the IV alone?”
“I’m not a kid; I can handle this,” He Siheng shooed him. “Go back to class already.”
Zhang Xunyue suddenly chimed in at that moment. “I’ve taken leave for one class period to rest here, and I’ll keep an eye on him too.”
This time, Tan Jing didn’t insist. He picked up He Siheng’s jacket from the bed and draped it over him, while instructing, “Even if you doze off, don’t sleep too soundly. Call the doctor as soon as the IV finishes.”
“Got it, got it,” He Siheng felt like he was being treated like an unreliable kid and grumbled in dissatisfaction. “Why are you even more nagging than my dad?”
Tan Jing tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t mind playing the role. Go ahead and call one if you want.”
He Siheng: “…”
Look at that. So thick-skinned, practically invincible across the land.
He Siheng disdainfully watched Tan Jing leave the School Infirmary. When he turned back, he saw Zhang Xunyue looking at him with a complicated expression.
“This is the first time I’ve seen Tan Jing care about someone so much,” Zhang Xunyue said softly with a sigh.
He Siheng had originally wanted to throw a couple of jabs at Tan Jing, but when he remembered that Zhang Xunyue liked Tan Jing, and that Tan Jing had used him as a shield before and had even genuinely confessed to him, he suddenly felt like nothing he said would be quite right.
He was racking his brains for something to say that wouldn’t make Zhang Xunyue feel even worse when she abruptly asked, “Were you just talking about Little Strawberry from the Fan Support Group?”
He Siheng looked at her in surprise. “You know about it?”
Zhang Xunyue gave an awkward smile. “Tan Jing was here earlier, so I didn’t feel like bringing it up… You’ve joined his Fan Support Group too?”
He Siheng coughed unnaturally. “I only went in out of curiosity to take a look…”
Zhang Xunyue smiled but didn’t press him on why he’d joined the group. She got back to the main topic. “I originally thought Little Strawberry was you.”
He Siheng was stunned. “Me?”
“You’ve known him for a long time, right? Those photos look like they were taken by someone close to him.”
Zhang Xunyue laid out her reasoning point by point. “Plus, Little Strawberry is ruthless with few words in the group, uploads photos efficiently, and was totally righteous when acting as the group owner’s admin. It kinda matches your style.”
He nearly got saddled with that blame. He Siheng twitched the corner of his mouth. “No. I swear on Boss He’s business for the rest of his life—definitely not me.”
Though his oath was ridiculous, Zhang Xunyue knew he had no reason to lie. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have matched her secret code about Little Strawberry.
But Zhang Xunyue was puzzled again. “If it’s not you, then who is this Little Strawberry?”
He Siheng thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket. He sent a message straight to Little Strawberry: Are you close with Tan Jing?
More than Little Strawberry’s identity, he cared about the purpose behind joining the group and posting those photos.
It seemed like they wanted everyone in the group to know that they had a familiar relationship with Tan Jing.
It went beyond mere fandom—it was declaring sovereignty.
The message got a reply. He Siheng read it, and his tongue tip irritably pressed against his cheek.
Little Strawberry: Yep~ I’m planning to chase him o(////▽////)q
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