Back to My Lover at Eighteen - Chapter 3

You’re clearly still angry…

I grumbled inwardly. But when I saw his resistance, I swallowed the words and changed the subject.

It was getting late. I stopped the car at an intersection and turned to ask, “Your place?”

His body suddenly stiffened. “No.”

Then, forcing himself to sound calm, he said, “Let’s go to yours.”

He seemed flustered as he continued, “Didn’t you say you wanted to sponsor me? Aren’t you going to arrange somewhere for me to live?”

Could I really be this lucky?

I was almost overwhelmed by the favor, but remembering his circumstances, I still asked, “What about your mother?”

He was silent for a moment before answering. “She’s in the hospital right now. I just came back from visiting her.”

When it concerned my future mother-in-law, I had to be proactive.

I hurriedly said, “I’ll contact someone right now. She can probably be transferred tomorrow… Why don’t I take you back to my place so you can get some rest first?”

He made a soft sound of assent. It was as though all his strength had left him at once. Sinking into the shadows, he curled in on himself again.

The guarded posture worried me, but I knew I couldn’t rush him. After all, in the boy’s eyes, this was the first time we had ever met.

There was no hurry.

I consoled myself in silence. Being able to meet him again was already a gift from heaven.

Looking at the painfully thin boy, I made a silent promise.

This time, through the rain-soaked days of your youth, I’ll be the one who holds an umbrella over you.

Following my memory, I found the apartment building where I used to live. Compared to how I remembered it, the building still looked brand-new.

The lingering sense of unreality faded a little. I truly had returned to the past.

I glanced at the person beside me, and my heart abruptly settled.

As long as he was still here with me, that was enough.

Shang Shixu still looked somewhat bedraggled. I led him to the sofa and spoke gently.

“I’ll get some plastic wrap for your wounds. Once they’re covered, you can take a shower. Everything was rushed today, so you’ll have to wear my clothes for now.”

For some reason, the moment he heard the word shower, Shang Shixu’s entire body went rigid.

After I wrapped his wounds, I took him to the bathroom. Remembering that he was injured, I thoughtfully asked, “If you really can’t manage, you can call me to help—”

Before I could finish, the boy cut me off in a rush. “No!”

Perhaps realizing how harsh he sounded, he added, “I… I might need a little time to prepare myself…”

“It won’t be long. Just however long the shower takes.”

I understood. I was a stranger to him now; allowing me this close was already the limit of what he could bear.

I didn’t force him. I merely added with what I thought was due consideration, “There’s some liniment for your bruises. The doctor said to apply it after your shower. You can do it yourself first.”

“Okay.”

I sat on the sofa with nothing to do, my thoughts drifting back to the first time Shang Shixu and I met in my previous life.

I had returned to my old high school to give a talk. By coincidence, an outstanding former student who had just graduated was also there to speak. He had placed first in the province on the national college entrance exam that year.

His delivery was clear, his logic meticulous, and his speech refreshingly free of clichés. He caught my attention with ease.

Curious, I asked the principal about him. To my surprise, the principal—who had always been strict—couldn’t praise him enough. His only regret was that Shang Shixu had no money for university.

I didn’t consider myself a man overflowing with charity. But I thought of the spirited young man standing on that stage.

This shouldn’t be his future, I told myself.

I decided to give him a hand.

At first, I regarded him only as an ambitious junior schoolmate. I quietly supported his education and never became involved in his daily life. I thought that was as far as our connection would go.

But Shang Shixu was different. After adding me on WeChat, he began sending me messages.

At first, he was reserved and limited himself to ordinary greetings. Later, once we became a little more familiar, he began trying to share his life with me.

He always seemed brimming with enthusiasm, full of love for life. Through his eyes, even the dullest things took on an entirely different color.

At first, I was indifferent and replied only out of courtesy. But eventually, having grown up under relentless pressure, I found myself irresistibly drawn to him.

Little by little, I developed the habit of checking his messages as soon as I finished work, and I answered more and more often.