Chapter Twenty-Two: Joining Forces

Following closely behind Zhao Zejun as they descended the stairs, Su Yun suddenly lost her footing, and before anyone could react, she tumbled down several steps in a chaotic cascade. It all happened in an instant—Zhao Zejun barely had time to respond; the chance for that fortuitous moment to catch her mid-fall, let alone any accidental contact, was entirely lost. He only saw a blur of movement, the thudding of her body hitting the stairway corner, one shoe flying off, books scattering across the floor, and her glasses tossed aside.

Hurriedly, Zhao Zejun rushed down a few steps, crouched beside her, and asked with concern—though mostly surprise—“Teacher Su, are you alright?”

Even as the words left his mouth, he knew they rang hollow. Alright? After missing a step and tumbling down seven or eight concrete stairs? It was hardly likely she was unscathed.

“I’m okay, just please help me pick up my glasses,” Su Yun gritted her teeth, one hand bracing against the floor as she struggled to stand. But as soon as she tried to rise, a sharp pain forced her to grimace.

Zhao Zejun collected her glasses and handed them back. She adjusted them on her face and leaned against the wall. “I twisted my ankle. Could you... help me up?”

Supporting her, he helped her to her feet. Yet barely a step was taken before the moment her right foot touched the ground, a cold sweat broke out across her pale face.

Zhao Zejun held her arm firmly, noticing the trembling that ran through her frame.

“Could you please take me down? Just to the office—I’ll rest there for a while,” she said through clenched teeth.

Bending down to examine her foot, Zhao Zejun saw the right ankle was already swollen, bruised purple and blue. A slight touch made Su Yun cry out in pain.

“Can you move it?” he asked.

She frowned, shaking her head with difficulty.

“It’s probably a bone injury. We should go to the campus clinic,” Zhao Zejun decided without hesitation, slipping off her shoe and carrying it in one hand while supporting her with the other as they made their way outside.

With her bare right foot unable to bear weight, Su Yun hopped along awkwardly at first like a clumsy rabbit. But soon, she could hardly continue, nearly her entire weight leaning on Zhao Zejun.

Carrying someone weighing over a hundred pounds was no easy task, and Zhao Zejun struggled to find the right balance—worried about bumping into sensitive areas and causing mutual embarrassment.

The university campus was vast, and the clinic sat some distance away. Zhao Zejun doubted he could carry her that far on foot.

After a moment’s thought, he helped Su Yun sit on a bench, then flagged down a student riding a bicycle, hoping to borrow it.

The student hesitated briefly, but Zhao Zejun pulled out five hundred yuan, left his phone number as collateral, and successfully ‘commandeered’ the bike.

“You really are something,” Su Yun said, leaning back on the bench with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Using money so bluntly to solve problems was hardly the behavior of a typical student.

“Less explaining this way,” Zhao Zejun smiled, steadying the bike’s handlebars with one hand while supporting Su Yun with the other, urging her to settle on the back seat. “I’ll ride slow—hold on tight, don’t fall off.”

Gripping the rear of the bike firmly with both hands, Su Yun glanced at Zhao Zejun’s back and nodded in agreement.

They arrived at the clinic, where Su Yun waited in the lobby while Zhao Zejun handled the paperwork. The place was quiet, and soon it was her turn.

Thankfully, the injury wasn’t severe—no fractures or cracks—just a sprain requiring rest and minimal walking. Su Yun’s doctor, a familiar face, even lent her a pair of crutches and prescribed some anti-inflammatory medication.

After leaving the clinic, Zhao Zejun glanced at the time—it was near quitting hour—and offered, “Teacher Su, shall I take you back to your parents’ place?”

Su Yun hesitated before responding, “No, could you please help me back to the office? My parents are elderly, and seeing me like this would worry them. I’ll wait until they’ve rested before going home.”

“Alright.”

The office was small, with only two desks. The other teacher had already left for the day. Zhao Zejun helped Su Yun inside and, having no urgent tasks, stayed a while longer. He poured her a cup of tea and tended to her as she took her medicine.

Truly a lady of refinement, Zhao Zejun noted—this semester, he’d barely attended any advanced math classes and was likely to fail. Perhaps it was wise to focus on what he could manage now. Besides, Su Yun was not unattractive; in fact, she was close to his age, and being with her felt more comfortable than with his dorm mates, with none of that patronizing ‘babysitting’ vibe.

“Thank you so much for today,” Su Yun said after swallowing her medicine, glancing at the clock with a hint of embarrassment. “Sorry to keep you so long.”

Zhao Zejun didn’t dwell on it and shifted the conversation, asking, “Teacher Su, why didn’t you want me to have a pet before? Were you worried I’d make a mess at home?”

She shook her head. “I used to have a cat when you lived there—a big corner bed in the living room. I cared for it for four or five years,” she said, gesturing the size of the cat’s nest.

“Oh? You like animals too?” Zhao Zejun asked curiously.

“As a woman, of course,” she smiled faintly. “Later, when I had my child, the father was worried about germs affecting the baby’s health, so I gave the cat away. Since then, I can’t bear to see cats or dogs—it hurts my heart. But if you really want one, go ahead. I probably won’t be coming back.”

“I was just asking,” Zhao Zejun replied. “My own place is a mess; if a pet came with me, that’d be just my luck.”

“Oh, by the way, my ex-husband came by—he didn’t trouble you, did he?” Su Yun inquired.

“No, Brother Wang was very polite,” Zhao Zejun answered. Her mood visibly dipped at the mention, and sensing the tension, he refrained from pressing further. An awkward silence settled between them until Zhao Zejun looked at the time again.

“Teacher Su, it’s nearly dinner. Why don’t you stay here for a bit? I’ll go get some food. What would you like to eat?”

“Well... thank you,” Su Yun hesitated, then handed him a meal card. “Use mine.”

“No need, just wait here,” Zhao Zejun said, stepping out to the cafeteria. He returned shortly with several dishes and two meals and ate in the office. Su Yun appeared to have little appetite, but Zhao Zejun ate heartily.

Seeing him enjoy the food, Su Yun smiled faintly, shaking her head in mild affection and pushed a plate of untouched stir-fried bamboo shoots and pork toward him.

“Don’t eat like that—it looks unappetizing. Sorry if I’m being rude,” Zhao Zejun joked.

“No, it’s fine. You young folks need to eat well to grow. You’ve been running me around all day—thank you. Eat as much as you can,” she said kindly.

Halfway through the meal, Zhao Zejun’s phone rang—it was Song Yun.

He answered, his expression darkening slightly.

Huan Jian and Qidian had teamed up.

“Is something wrong?” Su Yun put down her chopsticks.

“A bit of urgent business. Teacher Su, I’ll have to leave now,” Zhao Zejun said, wiping his mouth.

“Alright.”

As he stepped out, he redialed Song Yun. “Tell the core staff to return to the office for a meeting.”