It’s normal to have skills in Wangwang, right?

Liu Lingyin slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was a little blurry, but she could still recognize the tall and slender figure that seemed to radiate light even in the dim passage—Atobe Keigo.

He had clearly arrived in a hurry, his team uniform jacket draped casually over his arm, wearing a short-sleeved sports shirt from the exchange competition, with two buttons undone at the collar. A few strands of purplish-gray hair hung slightly messily over his forehead as he moved, adding a rare and genuine touch of youthful energy to his usual flamboyant style.

The moment his sharp phoenix eyes landed on Liu Lingyin's face, his pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. Then, his brows furrowed tightly, forming a deep "川" (river) shape.

Liu Lingyin's condition was even worse than she had sounded on the phone. Her face was deathly pale, her lips were dry and white, and fine beads of cold sweat seeped from her forehead and the tip of her nose, wetting the hair at her temples and sticking to her cheeks.

She leaned limply against the wall, her eyes unfocused, her breathing shallow, as if she might faint at any moment. The air was filled with the strong scent of mentholatum mixed with a faint herbal aroma emanating from her.

"Headache?" Atobe's voice rang out, much lower than usual, with a tone of certainty. He remembered the smell; Liu Lingyin had once proudly boasted to him about her homemade "refreshing and headache-curing" mentholatum.

Liu Lingyin barely had the strength to nod, only managing a weak breathy sound from her throat: "...Mmm."

Atobe's brows furrowed even more. He knew Liu Lingyin too well. This girl, who always seemed a bit mysterious, knew a little about everything, and was usually calm and composed in the face of adversity, was definitely not the type to show such vulnerability and pain over a simple headache.

The fact that she was so helpless, and even so desperately needed that strange medicinal spider, meant that the problem was definitely not simple.

But he didn't press her for details. Asking for more information at this point would be pointless and would only waste her already dwindling energy.

"Let's go."

Atobe shifted his gaze to the depths of the passage, his tone returning to its usual calm, even carrying a hint of command.

"I'll take you to get your unglamorous 'Little Purple'." He deliberately emphasized the words "unglamorous," as if trying to dispel the heavy worry in the air.

Liu Lingyin took a couple more breaths before trying to move her feet. As soon as she left the support of the wall, her body swayed uncontrollably, stars flashed before her eyes, and a strong wave of dizziness washed over her.

Atobe, who was walking ahead, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. The moment she swayed, he stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around, but he subtly reduced the size of his steps and slowed down.

Liu Lingyin gritted her teeth, enduring the dizziness and headache, and slowly followed, step by step. Her steps were unsteady, as if she were walking on cotton, and her body swayed slightly, as if she would fall at any moment.

Atobe didn't urge her, but adjusted his pace and rhythm, always maintaining a half-step lead over her, neither too fast nor too slow, just enough for her to keep up with his swaying gait.

Finally, Liu Lingyin managed to take a few steps, staggering to Atobe's side, almost standing shoulder to shoulder with him. She was panting, and her forehead was covered in even more cold sweat.

Atobe then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to confirm that she could still walk with difficulty, and then stopped talking. He simply led her forward in the empty passage with unprecedented patience and meticulousness.

The corridor lights cast long shadows of the two figures onto the polished floor. One's steps still carried an innate elegance, yet deliberately concealed their sharpness and speed; the other's steps were unsteady, their figure thin, like a candle flickering in the wind, yet stubbornly refusing to stop.

There were no extra words, only the cool light, the sound of footsteps, the faint scent of mint herbs in the air, and the unspoken care that quietly blossomed beneath the arrogant exterior.