Near the back of the academy hills, there was a small rockery.
In the mornings, it wasn’t very crowded.
Beneath a massive ancient tree stood a platform covered in golden locks.
A small crowd had gathered there, hanging little red plaques upon the locks.
Jiang Ran and her companion approached a red box and received their own small red cards.
The early morning breeze lightly tossed their hair; as the wind brushed past them, it felt warm and soothing.
Biting her lip slightly, Jiang Ran pulled out a piece of paper—the bookmark was delicate and small.
Taking out the pen she always carried, she handed one to Bai Ranran.
“Here. What do you plan on writing?”
Bai Ranran took the colored paper, feeling the texture with her fingers as a natural smile blossomed on her face.
“Just some small wishes. I heard from an upperclassman that the wishes written here are quite effective.”
“Is that so? How come I’ve never heard that? Maybe you remembered it wrong.”
“Really? I feel like things are quite ‘effective’ right now, aren’t they?”
“Huh?”
Jiang Ran was a bit confused.
Bai Ranran, however, was remembering a previous day of prayer—it had been just as sunny and breezy when she wrote down her wish.
It wasn’t anything complicated: she simply hoped she could become friends with Jiang Ran.
Looking at it now, that wish seemed to have come true.
So, she had wanted to bring Jiang Ran here to see the place, partly to fulfill her vow and partly hoping to bring Jiang Ran some good fortune.
Legend had it that this used to be an ancient courtyard where an immortal once planted a tree.
After achieving immortality, he left the courtyard behind to provide people with luck or a place for worship.
Thinking of this, Bai Ranran’s mood visibly brightened.
Beside her, Jiang Ran still held her small card.
The two walked one after the other toward the table, where Jiang Ran produced her finished card.
“Alright, I’m done writing.”
“Okay, let’s hang it up.”
Bai Ranran also held her own wish—a prayer for Jiang Ran’s health—carefully in her palms.
Her expression didn’t waver despite the cold.
After cautiously hanging the card on the board, she let out a puff of white mist.
“There, it’s up. So, what did you wish for?”
“Me? I hope I don’t fail any classes.”
“Ah… just that? Are you that afraid of failing?”
Jiang Ran scratched her head.
“Yeah. I’m not really superstitious about this stuff. Do you actually believe in it?”
“Oh.”
Bai Ranran bit her lip, the excitement she felt while hanging the card fading from her mind.
“It’s nothing. I just made some simple wishes too.”
As they walked toward the school gate, Jiang Ran and Bai Ranran parted ways.
Jiang Ran took a car to the hospital and brought some food for Gu Ge.
Today, Gu Ge had almost fully recovered; the doctor said he would be discharged soon.
Jiang Ran was momentarily stunned, but she quickly nodded.
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
Jiang Ran waved her hand.
As the distance between them closed, Gu Ge ruffled Jiang Ran’s small head and asked:
“Xiao Ran helped me a lot this time. I wanted to ask, do you want any reward?”
“A reward…”
Jiang Ran murmured.
As she began to speak, the image of Gu Ge wavered in her mind, and she let out a sigh.
“I just want you to be okay, Gu Ge. Don’t get the same illness I have. It would be wonderful if you just recovered your health completely.”
Jiang Ran focused her gaze on the floor tiles.
The flickering light and shadows soon covered the ground in a layer of luminous sand.
Amidst the shifting colors, she looked up and noticed Gu Ge watching her, letting out a small sigh of relief.
“What’s wrong?”
Under the room’s lighting, Jiang Ran’s sickly face lacked the vibrancy of a healthy person, as if a layer of frosted glass separated her from Gu Ge.
An invisible wall had formed between them; when one hesitated, the other felt the pull.
Gu Ge bit her lip.
She slowly pulled Jiang Ran into her embrace.
The colors on her face didn’t waver at Jiang Ran’s words.
If this had been a week ago, she might have had various concerns regarding Jiang Ran.
But now, she simply whispered, “Mm, I promise. But…”
Gu Ge’s fingernail lightly brushed against Jiang Ran’s chin.
“I also want Xiao Ran to live well, rather than being a puppet by my side. Can you do that?”
“You?”
Jiang Ran was surprised.
She didn’t know why Gu Ge had suddenly become so easy to talk to.
She couldn’t help asking, “Why are you saying this all of a sudden? I thought you were going to say something terrifying again.”
“I don’t know. I had a dream last night. It was like I went back to when I was little—back to when many doctors were facing you. They were researching how to treat you. Even though you were so tired of living, seeing everyone trying to save you gave you a burst of energy. I don’t know how to describe that feeling, but it’s like I’ve found it again. Xiao Ran, I can’t leave you anymore. Don’t go, okay?”
Gu Ge traced Jiang Ran’s chin.
“I only want you to live well.”
Jiang Ran dazed for a moment, her eyes focusing on Gu Ge’s face.
In her expression, Jiang Ran saw a sense of release that comes after a major illness.
“I will live well. But you have to take care of yourself too, don’t you? I’m living just fine.”
Gu Ge smiled with relief, tightening her hold on Jiang Ran.
She greedily drank in the faint fragrance surrounding Jiang Ran.
The girl’s skin was soft, yet her thighs were firm.
Her fingers traced small circles on Jiang Ran’s thigh; with every movement, the distance between them shrank.
Gu Ge bit down on Jiang Ran’s earlobe.
This time, she used no hypnosis, nor any other tricks.
Jiang Ran felt the hot breath pouring over her.
The flush on her cheeks hadn’t faded; she felt a burning heat.
“Sister Gu Ge, you’re so close… it’s so hot.”
“If it’s hot, just change your clothes.”
“Huh?”
Before Jiang Ran could react, her coat was removed by Gu Ge with a proficiency that was almost unsettling.
Is she serious?
Jiang Ran instinctively tried to retreat, but she was pinned down.
Gu Ge pressed down on Jiang Ran’s shoulders, her soft body weighing upon her.
Sensing the warmth of the light behind them and the sound of fabric rubbing together, Jiang Ran felt her own body growing weak.
“Sister only has you left now, Xiao Ran. Are you willing to help me ease my boredom?”
“This… this is a hospital. There are nurses outside…”
Jiang Ran still tried to push Gu Ge away, but Gu Ge was prepared.
She pulled the coatless Jiang Ran into the blankets.
“Then we don’t have to be afraid.”
Gu Ge pulled Jiang Ran into the bedding.
Because Jiang Ran was significantly shorter than Gu Ge, she could only curl up against Gu Ge’s abdomen, her head resting against her chest, her face full of nervous tension.