Chapter 25 Part 2: Commemorative Gift 

His smile was so approachable that it was impossible to classify him as anything but harmless.

Xie Qiaoqiao paused for a moment and then pushed his face away without expression. Zhang Xueji stepped back two paces, and they continued walking side by side.

As they walked, Zhang Xueji unzipped his shoulder bag and rummaged through it. It was unclear what all he carried, but Xie Qiaoqiao heard a clatter of miscellaneous items banging around.

After a moment, he found what he was looking for and pulled out a jewelry box, handing it to Xie Qiaoqiao.

She stopped, staring at the box like it was an incomprehensible math problem.

Zhang Xueji smiled brightly, pushing the box toward her. “For you. A little summer gift.”

Xie Qiaoqiao looked puzzled. “Why give me a gift?”

Zhang Xueji: “To make you happy—plus, we’ve known each other for sixty-two days, so this is the sixty-two-day commemorative gift.”

“I’m a bit sentimental—I like commemorating anniversaries.”

He lied with his eyes wide open, sounding sincere and polished. Coincidentally, besides them, other people were strolling along the tree-lined path, overhearing Zhang Xueji’s words clearly.

Passersby couldn’t help but laugh—then felt a little embarrassed, quickening their pace, elbowing their companions as they walked, twisting and turning like two snakes entwined.

Zhang Xueji wasn’t embarrassed at all. He kept his gaze lowered on Xie Qiaoqiao. He wasn’t thin-skinned, and since she showed no blush or change in expression, he felt no need to be shy.

He had to be bold and open.

Xie Qiaoqiao took the box and opened it. Inside was a bracelet strung with pearls and red gemstones.

The base was black velvet, and under the sunlight, the gems shimmered with fiery red glows like fresh, healthy drops of blood.

The reflected red light played across Xie Qiaoqiao’s cheek, adding a touch of color to her sharply defined, almost sketch-like face.

But the color vanished quickly as she closed the box. Her face returned to its extreme simplicity of black and white.

She thanked him with a flat voice. After putting the jewelry box in her bag, she pulled another jewelry box from her own bag and placed it into Zhang Xueji’s palm.

Zhang Xueji was surprised and even a little flattered. “I get one too?”

Xie Qiaoqiao said, “It’s not a gift. It’s to stabilize your energy and reduce your chances of seeing ghosts.”

Before she finished, Zhang Xueji eagerly opened the box. Inside lay a red cord strung with Square-Hole Copper Coins, woven into a pattern resembling Plum Blossoms.

Zhang Xueji’s eyes lit up, dimples appearing as he happily asked, “Did you make this for me? It’s so beautiful, I love it! I’ll wear it all the way to the coffin!”

Xie Qiaoqiao: “………..Well, I guess—”

Zhang Xueji: “Does this bracelet have any special care instructions? Like no water or cleaning products? Does it need regular maintenance? It looks like the same style as the one you used to wear—is this the same design?”

He spoke rapidly, nonstop like a chattering bird, all while putting the red cord bracelet on.

The bracelet was tied with an adjustable knot; a single pull tightened it snugly against the wrist bone. It had a simple yet mysterious vibe.

“Qiaoqiao, you’re really thoughtful, making me a ghost-repelling bracelet—” The tall young man’s eyes suddenly reddened, and he grabbed one of Xie Qiaoqiao’s wrists.

Xie Qiaoqiao glanced up at the blazing sun and kindly suggested, “Save the crying for when you get home. It’s too hot outside; you’ll get dehydrated.”

Zhang Xueji rubbed his eyes and obediently followed her into the elevator.

When the elevator reached the 27th floor, it automatically opened, and the two encountered a stranger.

It was a man fully wrapped up in a mask, sunglasses, and heavy gear, knocking repeatedly at the new neighbor’s door.

Zhang Xueji instinctively squeezed Xie Qiaoqiao’s wrist and stepped in front of her. The man didn’t react to the elevator’s arrival, only knocking persistently and pleading, “Chenyu, Chenyu, can we talk?”

“Chenyu, please open the door, Chenyu—”

“Please, I want to see you, hear me out, Chenyu? Chenyu, are you home? I know you’re home—please don’t ignore me.”

Zhang Xueji led Xie Qiaoqiao to their own door, then glanced at the man’s profile: he was shorter than Zhang Xueji, but well-proportioned and slender.

He couldn’t help himself and stepped forward to block the man’s knocking. “Bro, you’re not a resident on this floor, are you?”

The man abruptly turned his head. Even through his sunglasses, his gaze was fierce. “Who are you? Mind your own business!”

Zhang Xueji raised an eyebrow and stared back sharply. “Who am I? I’m a resident! You’re disturbing the neighbors by making noise in the hallway—know that? If you don’t leave, I’ll call management…”

The man grabbed Zhang Xueji’s collar. “So it’s you, huh? The little pretty boy stealing my girlfriend! Scumbag!”

Zhang Xueji: “?”

The man balled his fist to strike, but Zhang Xueji tilted his head to dodge, then laughed angrily.

He seized the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back, and pushed him to the ground.

The man struggled wildly, like a fish in hot oil, his sunglasses and mask flying off, revealing a haggard but handsome face.

Zhang Xueji twisted his shoulder fiercely, making the man howl in pain.

“Look at you, looking all high and mighty but talking nonsense. Who’s stealing your girlfriend? I have someone I like! Don’t slander me!” Zhang Xueji muttered angrily, refuting the false accusation.

But the man clearly wasn’t listening, nursing the pain and shouting, “You dare lay a hand on me? I’m calling the cops! Wait and see! I’ll sue you for intentional injury—”

His shouting was abruptly cut off by a slap from Xie Qiaoqiao.

She had no expression when she slapped him, quiet except for the loud smack echoing sharply; right after, silence fell over the area.

Half the man’s face swelled quickly; his eyes momentarily lost focus from the blow.

Zhang Xueji was stunned, hesitated, then released the man’s arm, rubbing his own face. Though he hadn’t been hit, the sharp slap sounded so crisp it felt like his own cheek was burning.

With no one holding him up, the man fell flat onto the floor, ears ringing, unable to process what had happened.

What? I got slapped by a woman? Why is there flashing white light before my eyes?

Xie Qiaoqiao squatted briefly after slapping the culprit, then stood up nonchalantly, pressed the elevator button, grabbed the man’s collar, shoved him inside, and pressed for the first floor.

The elevator’s floor indicator flashed red, casting a faint blush over Xie Qiaoqiao’s impassive face.

She turned to look at Zhang Xueji, who still stood frozen, eyes wide.

There was a scratch on his chin, probably from the man’s nails during their scuffle. Tiny beads of blood dotted the wound, forming a line across his jaw.

Xie Qiaoqiao stared at the scratch for two seconds, then approached him—but Zhang Xueji was faster, grabbing the wrist of the hand she had used to slap the man.

The stunned look melted away from Zhang Xueji’s face like a sugar coating. He pulled her hand over and anxiously asked, “Are you okay? That slap was way too loud—you really don’t have cotton for muscles… Let me see.”

His fingers traced her wrist to her palm—the force was mutual; Xie Qiaoqiao’s palm was also slightly swollen and warm to the touch.

Though the man was clearly worse off, Zhang Xueji couldn’t help but mutter, “That idiot got off lightly; look, your hand’s trembling… Never mind, let’s get you some ice.”

“You really thought of slapping him? Kicking him in the groin would’ve been way better.”

Xie Qiaoqiao was led by the wrist and replied, “That’s how they do it in the dramas.”

Zhang Xueji laughed dryly, “What kind of drama do you watch?”

Xie Qiaoqiao thought for a moment. “I think it’s called The Little Nemesis. The characters speak Thai.”

Zhang Xueji: “Though a slap can quiet some people, you should still be careful with your strength. They can’t take many slaps from you.”

Xie Qiaoqiao nodded. “I just saw you guys fighting, and it looked like the girl fights in the show, so I thought I should slap him. Since it’s not safe, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Zhang Xueji glanced at the new neighbor’s door—the commotion had been so loud, but there was no reaction.

Not sure if the person was pretending not to hear or simply wasn’t home.

An ice pack wrapped in two layers of face towels pressed against her reddened palm.

The mingling of heat and cold eventually numbed the pain.

Xie Qiaoqiao sat on the sofa while Zhang Xueji grabbed a small stool to sit opposite her.

Her hand rested on his bent knee, palm against the cool ice pack.

Zhang Xueji applied the ice pack carefully, pressing then lifting and softly blowing on her palm.

His face drew close as he blew, his blood-dried, scabbed chin nearly brushing her naturally curved fingertips.

After Zhang Xueji’s previous explanation, Xie Qiaoqiao understood why he blew on trivial wounds—it was a kind of psychological comfort.

Her fingertip twitched, the neatly trimmed nail grazing Zhang Xueji’s jaw.

Zhang Xueji looked up, thinking she was about to speak.

Their eyes met in a moment of silence—then Xie Qiaoqiao finally spoke: “Zhang Xueji, why do you like me?”