Zhao Wuxia had spotted Jiang Feng exiting the station from afar.
After a night in detention and a shooting, she’d assumed he’d be rattled— pampered heirs weren’t built for such hardship. Even without threats, the awful food alone should’ve broken him. Yet, aside from a slightly pale face and rumpled clothes, his spirit shone, eyes sharp and lively, like he’d just woken refreshed. It puzzled her.
His voice snapped her back. “Young Master, you okay?”
“Do I look like I’m not?” Jiang Feng grinned.
Fair point, Zhao Wuxia thought. With a beauty like Xia Dongxue around, he was probably enjoying himself. Irked, she said stiffly, “You’re fine, but others outside are worried sick. Do you not feel any guilt?”
“Others? Including you?” Jiang Feng teased, amused by her demeanor.
“Why can’t you stay out of trouble? You’re not young anymore—planning to coast through life like this?” Zhao Wuxia snapped, exasperated by his flippancy.
“You seem really concerned. It’s quite odd, since you don’t even like me,” Jiang Feng said, feigning curiosity.
Zhao Wuxia gritted her teeth, feeling like she was talking to a wall. Changing Jiang Feng was harder than pigs flying. Her face hardened, and she fell silent.
Jiang Feng shrugged off the rebuff. Given his low standing in the Jiang family, Zhao Wuxia had likely handled his bail alone. Her doing this—and her words—showed care, even if tinged with frustration. “Can’t take a joke. So dull,” he said lightly.
“No one’s joking with you. Figure out how to explain this to Grandpa,” Zhao Wuxia shot back, heading to the driver’s side.
Jiang Feng rubbed his nose, chuckling, and reached for the door. Then, an engine roared. A black sedan screeched from a nearby intersection, accelerating through the turn.
Jiang Feng sensed trouble. The car wasn’t slowing—it was speeding up. Zhao Wuxia, crossing in front of the Hummer, froze as it barreled toward her, mind blank, rooted like a statue. Disaster loomed.
In a flash, Jiang Feng grabbed her collar, yanking her back. Crash! The sedan slammed into the Hummer with a deafening bang. Tires screeched as it reversed, swerving wildly away. Simultaneously, Jiang Feng and Zhao Wuxia tumbled to the roadside.
It unfolded in seconds. Zhao Wuxia screamed, trembling uncontrollably.
“Stop yelling and get up—you’ll crush me,” Jiang Feng groaned.
She scrambled up, seeing his ashen face. Panic hit—she knew he’d saved her. Without him, she’d be dead under the wheels. “Young Master, are you okay?” Her usually composed voice quivered, near tears.
“I’m fine,” Jiang Feng said with a wry smile. No major harm, but the inner energy he’d cultivated in detention had shattered when he’d pushed his limits to save her. It now raged chaotically inside, leaving him badly injured internally.
He struggled up, eyeing the tire marks. The crash was abrupt.
Zhao Wuxia might’ve missed it, but he saw clearly—the car had aimed straight for her. A planned hit, though whether for her or him was unclear.
Seeing him sway, Zhao Wuxia rushed to support him, eyes red with worry. “Young Master, really, are you okay? I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, shaking his head, charmed by this rare, softer side of the poised Zhao Wuxia.
She saw him smile and didn’t know what to say.
Pulling out her phone, she called Grandpa Jiang directly, reporting the incident. Jiang Feng caught it, surprised. Zhao Wuxia’s unique role in the family didn’t extend deep due to her non-core status and youth—too green to command respect, even if groomed for more. Yet she had direct access to Grandpa Jiang!
Oblivious to his reaction, Zhao Wuxia hung up and helped him toward the car.
One step in, his insides churned. Unable to hold it, he spat blood and collapsed into her arms.
*****
Sister Hua, after learning at Yanjing University that Jiang Feng was detained over Li Yuanjue, panicked. She raced to the station, Chen Siran joining her—both desperate to find him. Near the station, they saw him with Zhao Wuxia, relieved at his release. Then the crash unfolded before them, hearts leaping to their throats. Even Ding Lin, driving, froze.
As the rogue car sped off and Jiang Feng and Zhao Wuxia rose, they exhaled—only to tense again as he fainted. Rushing out, they helped Zhao Wuxia lift him into the car, speeding to the hospital.
Jiang Feng woke the next morning to disinfectant’s familiar sting—his second hospital stint in short order. Bitterly amused, he opened his eyes to find Zhao Wuxia asleep by his bed, likely there all night.
Her sleeping face was serene—nose twitching, lashes fluttering, head bobbing like a kitten’s. It stirred him briefly, a flicker of his old self, but he smiled wryly and moved to get up quietly.
She woke instantly, rushing to steady him. “Young Master, don’t move. What do you need? I’ll help.”
“Bathroom,” he said helplessly.
Her cheeks flushed. With a resentful glare, she darted out. Jiang Feng chuckled, bemused—he’d meant it literally, not as a tease.
Returning from the bathroom, he found breakfast ready. A doctor checked him, confirming no serious damage. Zhao Wuxia relaxed, offering to feed him.
Jiang Feng grabbed the spoon himself, eating heartily. She watched, puzzled and intrigued.
Normally, he’d leap at her feeding him—yet now he refused without a word, taking the spoon himself. Recalling yesterday, when the car charged her, she’d thought death was certain. Jiang Feng saved her—impossibly, from under the wheels—then claimed he was fine despite spitting blood. It left her heart aching, confused.
He’d changed.
He’d once been a lech, good for nothing else. Maybe he still was, but this act moved her.
Sister Hua and Chen Siran’s worry hinted at unknown deeds. She, closest to him, had missed his shift—leaving her faintly wistful.
Watching him eat messily, she sighed inwardly.
Jiang Feng had truly changed.
It was time for her to rethink him entirely.