Zhao Xiyin nodded. "I was frightened."
After a few seconds of silence, Zhou Qishen reached out and gently beckoned, "Come here."
He stood tall and elegant on one end, a few meters away, while she stood on the other, unsure of what to do. The atmosphere was perfectly proper, but his sudden tenderness couldn't overshadow it. Zhao Xiyin listened and walked towards him.
Even when they were only a few steps apart, Zhou Qishen didn't overstep his bounds. He turned around, took something out of the car, and handed it to her. It was a rectangular box wrapped in twilight blue paper. When he opened it, he found fresh and elegant valley lilies.
“I’ve been wanting to give you this for a while, but this isn’t what I wanted to give you. You have an exam tomorrow, so I don’t want to scare you. Lilies are calming and soothing. You used to like to put two vases of lilies in your bedroom; they smell so good and help you sleep well.”
Zhou Qishen said in a low voice, "Get a good night's sleep tonight and do well on the exam tomorrow."
The fragrance of lilies immediately wafted out, subtle yet comforting.
Zhao Xiyin's eyes burned, and she kept her head down, not daring to look up.
Zhou Qishen didn't pressure her, knowing to give the girl emotional space. He came here firstly to apologize for his recklessness that day, and secondly to sincerely encourage her. Zhao Xiyin's journey from the depths of despair to where she is now has been incredibly difficult, truly remarkable.
He's a tough guy, not good at these sentimental, sentimental dramas. But his kindness towards her is always genuine; he remembers her dreams, her aspirations, and cherishes her passion.
"Are you nervous?" he asked.
Zhao Xiyin nodded, paused, then quickly shook her head. Perhaps it was because of the late night and heavy dew, but her voice was a little hoarse. "I watched a movie with my friends this afternoon, ate lamb spine hot pot, and also had a piece of peach cake."
Zhou Qishen smiled genuinely, "Didn't you say you wanted to lose weight?"
"I've lost weight." Zhao Xiyin raised her hands, pretending to lift her skirt, swaying it left and right. "I really have lost weight."
Zhou Qishen's gaze unconsciously drifted downwards, down to his chin, collarbone, neckline, and then his chest. He replied casually, "If I lose any more weight, I'll be gone."
Zhao Xiyin realized what was happening and, in a fit of rage, walked over as if to kick him. "Zhou Qishen, where are you looking!"
Zhou Qishen laughed mischievously, "Your necklace is pretty, but where did you think I was looking?"
Zhao Xiyin was taken aback, and even the darkness of the night couldn't hide her blushing face.
Stop teasing her and ask, "You have an exam tomorrow, right?"
Zhao Xiyin corrected, "That's called an assessment."
"Pretending to be serious is just a stupid exam." Zhou Qishen said it nonchalantly, his imposing manner was infectious, and even she felt much more at ease.
"You dance well, you're gold, and gold shines."
Zhao Xiyin whispered, "You've never seen me dance before."
This statement is reasonable and well-founded. When she had her stage accident, Zhou Qishen was still a nobody. Zhao Xiyin had never mentioned dating or marriage in front of him. This is just empty praise.
Zhou Qishen smiled, quite adept at seizing opportunities, "I haven't seen it before, so when are you going to show me?"
Zhao Xiyin stared at him as if facing a formidable enemy. Zhou Qishen appeared dignified and upright; standing in a crowd, he exuded the aura of someone about to go on stage to receive a national top ten youth award—thick eyebrows, a broad forehead, a straight nose, and thin lips. His years of military service ensured his posture was always ramrod straight. But this man was subtly lewd, never resorting to directness, preferring to wait and see, casting a fuse for you to ignite yourself.
His smile deepened, and the lines at the corners of his eyes rose, like the forked tail of a swallow under the eaves. He said meaningfully, "I remember you studied classical Chinese dance?"
Zhao Xiyin remained silent.
Zhou Qishen leaned against the car door, arms crossed, looking quite roguish. "Looks like you don't want to dance classical dance for me. So what kind of dance do you want to dance? Hmm?"
As he spoke, his gaze traveled downwards, tracing the outline of her collar—a lecherous act. Zhao Xiyin couldn't resist and actually kicked him in the leg, silently fuming with rage.
Zhou Qi hissed, "Didn't you know I injured my leg?"
"Oh, I thought your hand was broken."
"Still holding a grudge?" Zhou Qishen was afraid of being misunderstood, so he explained again and again, "That caregiver was only in her early twenties. I could be her uncle. I couldn't bring myself to hurt her."
Zhao Xiyin rolled her eyes at him, "It's not like you haven't tried before."
When he relentlessly pursued her, she was barely in her early twenties. The fact that he was eight years older than her had always bothered Zhao Wenchun. No matter how well a man takes care of himself, he'll still age. Life and death are inevitable, and Zhao Wenchun's worries stemmed from his fear of dying before his daughter. He couldn't imagine how difficult the past decade of loneliness would be for Zhao Xiyin.
Zhou Qishen only knew that his father-in-law disliked his age, but he didn't know that his father-in-law had imagined him dying a thousand times over.
Zhao Xiyin realized at this moment that on nights like this, there were too many memories to reminisce about.
Zhou Qishen remained silent, a gentle current flowing between them, each lost in their own thoughts and anxieties. Zhao Xiyin kept her head down, never looking at him. But she could sense his gaze—deep, full, and intense.
For no reason at all, Zhao Xiyin felt wronged, a sour feeling welled up in her heart, and she couldn't help but tear up.
"Xiao Xi," Zhou Qishen suddenly asked, "Can I hug you?"
Zhao Xiyin forced back her tears, stubbornly refusing to speak.
Zhou Qishen didn't press her. Just a few seconds later, he let out a very soft gasp. Zhao Xiyin subconsciously looked up and saw him slightly bent over, his left hand resting loosely on his abdomen, his brows furrowed.
Zhao Xiyin immediately tensed up, forgetting to keep her distance, and took two steps forward to be next to him. "What's wrong? Are you having cramps again? Did you put on a plaster? Do you... do you need to go to the hospital?"
Zhou Qishen reached out, first hooking his arm around her neck and pulling her towards him, then pressing her head down firmly. Zhao Xiyin stumbled as he pulled her into his embrace.
He wrapped one arm around her, half of his body burning hot, and his voice soothed her ears from above.
Zhou Qishen whispered, "I got to hug you."
Zhao Xiyin's cheek pressed against the man's heart, a resounding thud echoing through the chest, signaling the start of a fierce battle.
Zhou Qishen wrapped his other arm around her, forming a complete hug. The early winter wind swept through the long corridor from the west, and Zhou Qishen took a few steps back and turned, silently shielding her from it.
“Xiao west,” were his last words tonight, “we’ll have a good talk after you finish dancing tomorrow.”
Chapter 51 Enjoying the Last Moments (2)