Spring Night Kiss.

Song Qingjia exclaimed softly, "What are you doing!"

Xu Zhouye had already carried her out, saying, "Let's go to the hospital; you have a rash on your face."

Upon hearing this, Song Qingjia frowned and pulled a small mirror out of her bag.

The woman in the mirror had red eyes and a red nose. A light pink rash had appeared on both sides of her nose, gradually spreading towards her cheekbones.

She wailed inwardly, wondering if it would leave a mark.

And what should I do if I go on stage tomorrow?

Thinking this, she couldn't help but glare at the culprit again: "You investigated me, but you didn't even investigate thoroughly."

Xu Zhouye: "..."

How can you blame him for this?

Fine, I'll just have to accept it.

"Yeah, it's all my fault. Do you want me to hit you to vent my anger?" He offered his face to Song Qingjia's hand, but his feet didn't stop moving.

Song Qingjia thought this person must be mentally ill; did he think she definitely wouldn't do anything?

Then he's wrong!

A slap landed on his face, making a "smack" sound, followed by a rich fragrance.

But the force wasn't strong; it was just a crisp sound.

She placed her palm against his cheek, more like giving him a gentle touch, as if she were being affectionate.

Xu Zhouye didn't stop walking. He looked down at her, his eyes full of laughter: "Doesn't it hurt? Want to try again?"

Song Qingjia withdrew her hand, too lazy to pay him any attention.

The car was parked on the side of the road. Xu Zhouye put her in the passenger seat, walked around to get in the car himself, and glanced at her as he started the engine.

She was holding a small mirror, her brows furrowed, her fingertips lightly touching the red rash on her cheekbone, then pulling back as if she'd been electrocuted.

"Don't touch it," he said.

"Okay." Song Qingjia put down the mirror, leaned back in her chair, and said in a muffled voice, "What if it leaves a mark?"

"Leaving a mark looks good too."

"Shut up."

Xu Zhouye shut his mouth.

-

emergency room.

The doctor was a woman in her forties, wearing glasses. She glanced at the rash on Song Qingjia's face, then at Xu Zhouye.

"hay fever?"

"Yes." Xu Zhouye stood beside him.

"Didn't you know she's allergic to pollen?"

"……have no idea."

The doctor looked him up and down, his gaze settling on the expensive watch on his wrist, and his brows furrowed.

"Young man, can you be a little more careful when you're dating? Pollen allergy can be a serious matter, and in severe cases, it can even cause shock, you know?"

Song Qingjia: "?"

What girlfriend?

She opened her mouth to correct him, but Xu Zhouye spoke first, his attitude very serious: "It's my fault, I had no experience delivering flowers for the first time, I definitely won't do it again next time."

The doctor glanced at him, probably thinking the young man's attitude was acceptable, and softened his tone.

"It's not serious this time. I'll prescribe some medicine, apply it for a few days and it'll be fine. Be more careful next time. Your girlfriend is so beautiful, and you don't even know how to appreciate her."

Song Qingjia couldn't help but interject, "He's not my boyfriend."

Xu Zhouye chimed in, "We're still chasing it."

"..."

The doctor chuckled and joked, "Someone like you definitely still has a chance."

She prescribed the medicine and gave a few instructions: "Young lady, don't wear makeup for the next few days. Let the rash on your face go away on its own. Eat a light diet, avoid spicy food, and don't drink alcohol."

Song Qingjia nodded in agreement.

He paused for a moment, then asked, "Can I take a shower?"

"Okay, but don't make the water too hot."

By the time I left the hospital, it was completely dark. The city lights were just coming on, creating a neon-lit street scene.

"Want a hug?" Xu Zhouye suddenly asked.

Song Qingjia lifted her eyelids: "I have an allergic reaction, not a broken leg."

"But I want to hug you."

He took a step forward, put one arm around the waist and the other under the knee, and picked the person up horizontally.

Song Qingjia: "...?"

"I'm the one who hurt you, so I have to take responsibility for you." He looked down at her, his tone serious, the slight smile on his lips still there.

Song Qingjia stared at his chin for two seconds, then chuckled softly, "Fine, then you take responsibility."

Xu Zhouye raised an eyebrow, tightened his grip on her, and carried her toward the parking lot.

Back at the resort, Song Qingjia looked at her face in the mirror in the elevator. The rash had subsided a little, but the redness around her nose and eyes hadn't faded, making her look like she had been crying.

She was looking at herself, and Xu Zhouye was looking at her.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and Song Qingjia indifferently looked away.

A man who is secretly passionate but actually secretly horny.

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out first, her high heels clicking softly on the carpet.

I walked to the room door, swiped my card to open it, and then turned around and said, "Thank you, goodnight."

Xu Zhouye stood at the door with his hands in his pockets, not moving.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"No, please."

"You still have medicine on your face that you haven't applied."

"I can apply it myself."

"What about your back?" He blinked. "Isn't there one on your back too?"

Song Qingjia stared at him for two seconds.

"Xu Zhouye, do you think I'm in a particularly good mood tonight?"

"No, not at all." He took a step forward, his shoulder against the doorframe, and bent down slightly to meet her gaze. "I'm just worried. Let me in, I'll apply some medicine for you, pour you a glass of water, and then I'll leave."

Song Qingjia remained silent.

He added, "I promised to take responsibility for you."

"Do you really want to take responsibility for me, or are you just trying to take advantage of me?" Song Qingjia sneered.

Xu Zhouye lowered his head, closing the distance between them: "That depends on your attitude, Miss Song."

Song Qingjia looked at him for three seconds, loosened her grip on the doorframe, and turned to go inside.

The door was open.

Xu Zhouye followed him in and closed the door behind him.

The room wasn't large, with a big bed and a wicker chair by the window. There were several magazines on the table, and he noticed that the cover featured a recently released sports car.

He walked over, picked it up, and casually flipped through it.

Song Qingjia threw her bag on the sofa and headed towards the bathroom. But when she reached the door, she suddenly stopped, turned around, and said, "I'm going to take a shower. Boil some water, divide the medicine, and get the hairdryer from the bedside drawer."

After saying that, he closed the bathroom door.

The sound of water soon began.

Xu Zhouye stood in the middle of the room, paused for a second, and then smiled.

Okay, I'll have to order him around.

He boiled some water first, then took out the ointment and oral medication and placed them on the bedside table. He opened the drawer, and sure enough, the hair dryer was inside.

After finishing all that, he leaned against the table, listening to the sound of water in the bathroom.

I don't know how much time passed before the sound of water finally stopped.

After a while, the door opened a crack, and Song Qingjia's hand peeked out, wet, with water dripping from her fingertips: "Towel."

Xu Zhouye raised an eyebrow, took a dry towel from the wardrobe, and handed it over.

He couldn't resist being cheeky and asked, "Do you need my help?"

Song Qingjia grabbed the towel and slammed the door shut.

When it was opened again, she was wrapped up tightly, wearing long sleeves and trousers, with the top button fastened.

Her hair was wet and draped over her shoulders, and the red rash on her face hadn't subsided yet; the steam made it appear even pinker.

Xu Zhouye's eyes flickered slightly.

Pick up the hairdryer, come behind her, and run your fingers through her wet hair, blowing it strand by strand.

With someone helping her blow-dry her hair, Song Qingjia was happy to have some free time.

She picked up her phone and checked the messages.

Two messages came from real estate agents, saying that two buyers were interested in the house and inquired about viewing it over the weekend.

Song Qingjia paused for a moment, then replied with an "okay".

The rest of the information all came from Shen Lingyi.

Shen Lingyi: [Baby! Waaaaah! I'm so sorry, Xu Zhouye didn't do anything to you, did he?]

Shen Lingyi: [Where is he???]

Shen Lingyi: [Still not replying to me?? Damn it, Xu Zhouye wouldn't have really done something to you, would he?!]

Song Qingjia had a gut feeling that her best friend was definitely thinking the wrong thing again. Just as she was about to reply, she heard the culprit's voice in her ear.

He read it slowly, deliberately pronouncing the three words "do what" very slowly and drawn out.

"What can I do for you?" He turned off the hairdryer, and his voice suddenly became clear.

"What do you think?" Song Qingjia asked in return.

Xu Zhouye curled his lips slightly: "Tell her you haven't had a chance yet."