Chapter 22 – Unspoken Ties
Sang Zhi stared at the glowing screen of her phone long after the call ended. The faint trace of Duan Jiaxu's voice still lingered in her ears—warm, calm, like the last rays of evening sunlight that refused to fade.
The quiet of her dorm room wrapped around her like a blanket, yet her heart beat restlessly, pounding louder than the muffled sounds of laughter drifting in from the hallway. She lay back on her pillow, gazing at the ceiling, her mind wandering to a tall figure with soft eyes and an easy smile.
Why does he always sound so gentle… even when he's teasing me?
Across the city, Duan Jiaxu closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. His desk lamp cast a golden pool of light over neatly stacked papers, but his thoughts had nothing to do with work. They kept circling back to the girl who had grown up before his eyes, who now spoke to him with the careful politeness of someone trying to hide their feelings.
He knew Sang Zhi admired him—had admired him for years—but he didn't dare think too deeply about it. She was still young, still finding her way in the world. He told himself that keeping a distance was the kindest thing to do. Yet whenever her name lit up his screen, he answered without hesitation.
The next weekend, Sang Zhi returned home. The summer air smelled of ripe loquats and freshly washed laundry drying on balconies. In the familiar living room, her parents chatted about groceries while she absently scrolled through her messages.
Duan Jiaxu arrived not long after, bringing a box of snacks as usual. The easy way he greeted her parents made it feel as though he belonged there—as though this had always been his home too.
When their eyes met across the room, something unspoken passed between them. Sang Zhi quickly looked away, her ears burning. She busied herself with pouring tea, hoping no one noticed the way her hands trembled slightly.
Later that evening, when everyone else was preoccupied, Sang Zhi found herself standing beside him on the balcony. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but all she could hear was the quiet thrum of her heart.
"You're studying hard?" Duan Jiaxu asked, his tone light, but there was a hint of concern in his gaze.
"Mm." She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's… fine."
He smiled faintly, leaning on the railing. "Don't push yourself too much. You always do that."
The words were simple, but to Sang Zhi, they felt like a secret confession—a reminder that he had been watching out for her all this time.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. The evening breeze carried the scent of osmanthus, and the silence between them felt oddly comforting, yet charged with something they couldn't name.
Finally, Duan Jiaxu glanced at her and said softly, almost as if to himself, "You've really grown up."
Sang Zhi froze. The words should have been ordinary, but they carried a weight that made her heart flutter and ache at the same time. She wanted to ask him what he meant, to demand whether he saw her as the little girl next door or… something more. But the courage to speak never came.
The moment passed as quickly as it came. Duan Jiaxu straightened and changed the subject, as though nothing had happened.
But Sang Zhi knew—deep down—that something had changed.
End of Chapter 22