Chapter 67: Pei He: Zhou Zhuoyuan Suddenly Feels a Strong Urge to Confide…

Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly felt an intense urge to confide in him.

He flusteredly averted his gaze from Pei He, a strange sensation stirring in his heart—something empty, itchy, and faintly sour.

There were other feelings too, ones Zhou Zhuoyuan couldn’t quite put into words.

He pursed his lips. “You’re really good at pretending. I wonder who it was yesterday, yelping and howling after getting beaten.”

Pei He stared at him in astonishment. “I was yelping?”

In his own memory, he’d been cool and composed the whole time.

Zhou Zhuoyuan had said something so blatantly untrue, expecting Pei He to argue back. Instead, the guy actually believed him, his tone heavy with anguish. “I really yelped like that?”

At the time, he’d been entirely focused on Zhou Zhuoyuan, doing his best to shield his vital spots, with no spare energy left to strike a heroic pose.

A rare pang of conscience tugged at Zhou Zhuoyuan. His ears burned red as he snapped in frustration, conceding defeat. “I was talking nonsense. You were actually… you were actually…”

He trailed off with “actually” after “actually,” unable to finish the thought.

Fortunately, Pei He didn’t press him. He pulled out the chair beside him and sat down—only to forget about the injuries on his back. He leaned back out of habit, and the next second, he shot up from the chair with a sharp “Damn!”

It was as if both their brains had been rattled loose in the fight—one stammering incoherently, the other forgetting everything and taking others at their word.

Pei He lay face-down on the bed, letting Zhou Zhuoyuan check his wounds.

He must have pressed on a few bruises earlier. Zhou Zhuoyuan’s fingers hovered over a particularly purple spot. “Why did you use your body to block for me? Couldn’t you just shove me aside?”

Pei He replied, “Are you dumb? The floor was covered in drinks and broken glass. What if you got hurt falling?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan recalled how he’d called Pei He an idiot yesterday, so he held his tongue. At least until Pei He’s injuries healed, he figured he owed the guy some leeway.

“Have you thought about what you want for dinner? Or should we get some food from the Zhou Family? You said it was delicious last time. I can have them bring an extra portion.”

Pei He rolled onto his side to face Zhou Zhuoyuan as he lay there. “Have them bring an extra portion. I’m not comfortable with you going out alone.”

That strange feeling returned. Zhou Zhuoyuan pulled his hand back. “You just said this is school and told me not to panic. Now you’re worried?”

Pei He said, “I’m afraid you’ll pass out outside. You’ve checked my wounds—now let me see your hand. It was too dark in the KTV; I didn’t get a good look before I left.”

Only then did Zhou Zhuoyuan remember Doctor Song saying the bandages could come off that afternoon. Keeping them on too long wasn’t good for healing.

He spread his palm for Pei He to see. It was covered in fine, scattered scars—nothing deep. Except for that final moment when he’d threatened the woman, he’d been pretty measured overall.

Pei He took hold of his hand and pulled it close, studying it intently.

Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly felt that intense urge to confide again. He was a loner by nature, not because he disliked talking to people, but because no one wanted to talk to him. In truth, he was eager to express himself. As a kid, he’d curse, fight, and cry when wronged. As an adult, he’d vent to Guan Qi about his hatred for Zhou Zhuoyi. Even after his rebirth, he couldn’t hold back—he’d immediately fallen out with Guan Qi and told the Zhou Family members he didn’t like it.

He let Pei He’s fingers trace over the scars. “That one was from the machine.”

“I had low blood sugar that day. I slipped up, and it sliced me. The boss was a good guy—took me to the hospital himself and paid generous compensation.”

“I didn’t even feel the pain before I passed out.”

Pei He watched the smile on his face, his throat bobbing as he steadied his voice to keep it from trembling. “Zhou Zhuoyuan, how are you so tough?”

Ever since He Qinglan’s accident, he’d been calling him Little Yuan, trying to claim the spot closest to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s heart—the one that had belonged to He Qinglan. But now, he called him Zhou Zhuoyuan, a name stripped of any fondness, yet filled with absolute certainty.

A flush crept across Zhou Zhuoyuan’s cheeks. “It’s nothing. I’ll go make the call now, or they’ll be on their way already.”

~~~

After dinner, Zhou Zhuoyuan walked Zhou Zhuoli out the door. He hadn’t done this in a while, and Zhou Zhuoli knew he had something to say.

Sure enough, once they were a short distance from the dorm, Zhou Zhuoyuan spoke up. “Do you know who tried to kidnap me? Will they come after me again?”

Zhou Zhuoli had heard about it from Zhu Wan before coming over. He sighed helplessly. “Zhuoyuan, this really was just a freak accident. We’ve checked all their transaction records and contacts—nobody was pulling the strings. Think about it: if someone was really behind it, why would we hide it from you?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan stopped in his tracks, his expression fraught with anxiety. “Why won’t any of you believe me?”

Zhou Zhuoli halted too. His brother must have been badly shaken by the unprovoked attack—his eyes were full of unease.

A sudden, powerful urge to confide welled up in Zhou Zhuoyuan.

He reached out and ruffled Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hair. “Don’t be scared. Big bro had a custom watch made for you—with self-defense features and a tracker. It’ll be here in a couple of days. Nothing’s gonna happen at school. We’ve got people posted at every gate. If you wanna head out, just give me a heads-up beforehand. I promise, no one’s gonna hurt you again.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan shook off his hand and stalked away, face cold.

Before heading back to the dorm, he got in touch with the private investigators he’d hired, schooled his expression, and pushed open the door.

Pei He had eaten his fill and was sprawled on Zhou Zhuoyuan’s bed, flashcards in hand as he memorized vocabulary.

Zhou Zhuoyuan eyed the meds Pei He had left on the desk. “How do you use these? Let me help you apply them.”

Pei He straightened up. “Just put on that xxx ointment. That’s the only one the doc prescribed—the rest are just standard stuff I keep at home.”

He hadn’t clocked it before Pei He pointed it out, but now Zhou Zhuoyuan jerked his gaze away from the antacids and glucose vials in the kit like they’d burned him.

Back in North City, Pei He had bragged about his iron stomach—he could eat anything.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s heart pounded nonstop while he applied the ointment. How could anyone like this exist? How could he lavish so much care and protection on Zhou Zhuoyuan—the thief who’d stolen his childhood sweetheart and gotten him killed?

~~~

Pei He’s wound didn’t bother him unless it got bumped, so the next day, determined not to hold back the Zhou Zhuoyuan he was dead set on looking after, he dragged himself to class wounds and all.

The sharp-eyed Ji He finally pieced it together: Pei He had his own baggage too. Ji He had figured being Zhou Zhuoyuan’s desk mate gave him first dibs, but nope—someone was even closer, swooping in for a textbook hero rescue while he was out.

Ji He was steaming mad, half to death with it. Mad, sure, but grateful too, and a load off his mind—if Pei He hadn’t shown up the day before last, God knows what would’ve happened to Zhou Zhuoyuan.

Baby-faced and dead serious, Ji He gave Zhou Zhuoyuan his word. “Relax. I’ll take care of that kidnapper for you.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan froze mid-motion. He hadn’t asked Ji He to step in. The Zhou Family wouldn’t even touch it—what made Ji He think he could?

He’d forgiven Ji He, sure, but the grudge lingered. Even without that mess, a massive thorn had always sat between them. Zhou Zhuoyuan could never drop his guard and call him a true friend.

He could square up favors like borrowing Ji He’s clothes, tagging along on vacation, begging Zhu Wan for mercy. But getting Ji He to cross someone the Zhou Family might not even dare? That gave him pause.

Ji He, seeing no response, started to fret. “For real. Trust me.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan turned away, turmoil flickering in his eyes.

At last, he said, “Just look into it for me and report back. Don’t try to fix it.”

~~~

A week later, the private eyes Zhou Zhuoyuan had hired confirmed it: exactly as Zhou Fuxuan described. No puppet master pulling strings, spot-on with Ji He’s intel.

Pei He’s wound had healed up. Studies done for the day, Zhou Zhuoyuan headed downstairs with Pei He and Ji He.

Ji He beamed. “Yuanyuan, I can move into your dorm tomorrow! Convinced my folks already!”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face fell. “Our dorm?”

Ji He’s grin wilted at the look. “What? You don’t want me there?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s head throbbed sharp and sudden. He shot a helpless glance at Pei He—just then, a streetlamp flickered out. He turned back to Ji He and mustered, “No… I’d be glad if you came.”

The only empty bunk in their dorm was He Qinglan’s.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s thoughts churned in chaos. He’d just racked up a debt to Ji He, and the beds weren’t his call anyway—he couldn’t block it.

But Pei He owed Ji He zilch, and it was obvious Ji He only wanted dorm life because of Zhou Zhuoyuan. He dreaded upsetting Pei He.

Lost in the dark, not knowing what to do, his right hand was suddenly clasped—warmth flooding his palm.

Pei He spoke. “I’ve moved on. Ji He’s your friend. If you haven’t, tell him straight—I doubt he’ll push. If you have, don’t sweat me.”

Ji He blinked at the nudge, enlightenment dawning. He got it now, why Zhou Zhuoyuan wore that look. Coddled his whole life, he’d seldom seen things from anyone else’s shoes. Figured crashing the dorm would level them up, never mind it was cornering Zhou Zhuoyuan.

He stumbled over his words. “I just… wanna hang with you more. Not forcing anything. I can take another dorm—not gunning for the class monitor’s spot.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan gazed at the busted streetlamp. He’d kissed Qinglan behind it once.

Pei He had already let it go.

Zhou Zhuoyuan blinked, suppressing the heat flickering in his eyes. “It’s nothing. You can move in.”

Ji He had gotten exactly what he wanted, yet he couldn’t muster any joy. After walking a short distance, he suddenly whipped around to stare at the backs of Pei He and Zhou Zhuoyuan.

Pei He’s hand had already let go, but the two of them were standing very close.

Ji He replayed Pei He’s earlier words in his mind and suddenly realized that Pei He played at a much higher level than even He Qinglan.

A profound sense of powerlessness and crisis washed over him.

~~~

Zhou Zhuoyuan walked quietly for a stretch, his mood gradually lifting.

He flashed Pei He a self-deprecating smile. “I never imagined I actually suffer from paranoia. They really were just acting on a whim. Guess my type is just too mainstream.”

Pei He looked stunned. “What kind of coincidence is that? I saw those two with their eyes practically glued to you. You’re not that much handsomer than me, right? And my clothes aren’t any cheaper than yours!”

Zhou Zhuoyuan rolled his eyes at him. “Glued to me? You were the one getting groped left and right.”

Pei He stared at him in disbelief. “She was plastered to your arm with her whole body, and you’re the one calling me groped?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan hadn’t dwelled on it in the past few days, but now that he thought back, he couldn’t stop his face from heating up. “Why should I be embarrassed? I’m the victim here, aren’t I? Why are you making it sound like I’m the pervert?”