Zhuang Fanxin wiped his sweat. He could feel symptoms of heatstroke, but he didn't pay it any mind. Rong City was very hot. Every summer, while rushing to classes and for outdoor sketching, it was inevitable to have some minor issues. Nothing serious.

Hearing the sound of them talking, Xue Maochen came out of his room and teased, "Xiao Zhuang, did you go out to have fun today?"

Zhuang Fanxin nodded. His face was flushed, yet pale underneath. Sister Hu handed him a large glass of plain water. After gulping it down in one go, he still felt parched. He stood up again and said, "I feel better, I'm fine."

Gu Zhuoyan heard the weakness in his voice and didn't quite believe him. Xue Maochen also said, "I doubt it. Dehydration would be troublesome."

Zhuang Fanxin said, "I'll go get an IV drip. I've had heatstroke before, and an IV drip always helps." He was indeed feeling unwell. To avoid troubling them any further, he forced himself to walk outside.

Xue Maochen asked, "Can you manage on your own?"

"I can." Zhuang Fanxin walked to the door and gave a brilliant smile. "I'll have my dad go with me."

As he walked away, Gu Zhuoyan held the remote control, searching for a show to watch, but none were interesting. Xue Maochen crossed his legs and played with the dog, laughing that puppies were just like little kids, very mischievous.

"Gu Zhuoyan, this dog was bought for you by Grandpa," Xue Maochen said, "When you go back, take it with you. Don't leave it with me, I don't have time to walk it every day."

Gu Zhuoyan smiled and said, "Yeah, I know."

As he spoke, he recalled walking the dog that morning. Before running into Zhuang Fanxin, he had first seen Zhuang Xianyang driving to work. Then the German Shepherd had taken a dump in the Zhuang family's parking spot. Just now, Zhuang Fanxin said he would have Zhuang Xianyang accompany him, but what time was it? How could Zhuang Xianyang be home from work already?

Gu Zhuoyan went out to take a look. There were no cars parked outside the Zhuang family's home. He guessed Zhuang Xianyang wasn't back at all. So, Zhuang Fanxin was going to get an IV drip by himself while feeling dizzy? Could he manage?

Logically speaking, a teenage boy getting sick and needing an IV drip should be able to handle it alone.

Gu Zhuoyan returned to the living room to watch TV. He changed to a news program, which was reporting that a patient at the Hangzhou City Chinese Medicine Hospital had accidentally bumped an IV stand during a drip, and the falling stand injured their eye, leading to a dispute with the hospital.

Xue Maochen said, "Ai, what bad luck."

People are susceptible to making connections. Gu Zhuoyan mentally replaced the patient with Zhuang Fanxin. If those eyes were to be hit... He snapped back to reality and asked, "Grandpa, which hospital did Zhuang Fanxin go to? A nearby one?"

Xue Maochen said, "The Community Clinic, twenty meters after the left turn at the small intersection. It's not worth going to the hospital for a minor illness." As he spoke, he grew a little concerned. He lived alone, and whenever he had a minor illness or ailment, the couple Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu would always come to take care of him. They were very close. "Gu Zhuoyan, why don't you go check on him? Just treat it as a stroll."

Gu Zhuoyan got up and left. After strolling to the clinic, he didn't go in immediately. First, he bought a popsicle from the convenience store next door.

Eating his popsicle, he stepped into the clinic and glanced at the infusion room. Zhuang Fanxin was there alone, sitting on a sofa in the corner. His shoulders were hunched, and a towel blanket provided by the clinic was draped over him. His head was lowered, the curly hair on his forehead no longer so fluffy from the sweat.

Gu Zhuoyan ambled over and spoke, "Where's your dad?"

Zhuang Fanxin looked up at the sound of his voice, a little surprised to see him. "My dad's not off work yet. Did you come out to buy a popsicle?"

Gu Zhuoyan sat down beside him and noticed the goosebumps on Zhuang Fanxin's arm. He looked very cold. He pinched a corner of the towel blanket and pulled it up to cover him more securely. "You have a fever, don't you?"

Zhuang Fanxin said, "I think so. I have a thermometer in."

Five minutes passed in silence. The thermometer should have been ready, but the hand he had used to place it was the one receiving the IV drip. Zhuang Fanxin nudged Gu Zhuoyan with his elbow for help. Then, he felt a coolness in his sleeve as Gu Zhuoyan reached under his armpit and took out the thermometer.

His body was hot with fever, but the hand had just been holding a popsicle. Zhuang Fanxin felt a chill that didn't subside for a long while. The thermometer read thirty-eight point seven degrees, even higher than the day's temperature. The nurse added a fever-reducing shot to the IV bag.

After that, all they could do was wait for the fever to break. Zhuang Fanxin was delirious from the fever. He lowered his head, letting the towel blanket cover half his face, even muffling his breathing. Gu Zhuoyan looked at him and was reminded of when Gu Baoyan was sick. She would be listless and like to be hugged by her dad, Gu Shibo.

He had no intention of being a dad to someone else, so he switched tactics: "If you have no strength, you can lean on me."

Zhuang Fanxin made a sound of acknowledgement but didn't move. Although he was thin and frail, his endurance was strong. The two of them stopped talking, and the clinic was so quiet they could even hear the dripping of the IV fluid.

Before long, another patient came in for an IV drip and turned on the TV. The movie channel was playing Wong Feihong. Zhuang Fanxin looked up and watched along with them. He liked watching movies. Even an old film like this, which had been broadcast and which he had seen many times, he still watched with great relish.

But after about five minutes, Gu Zhuoyan yawned.

Zhuang Fanxin's eyes were half-open. The redness on his eyelids was slowly fading, and his complexion was also better. After a while, he muttered, "I've watched this so many times, but I still don't know Clubfoot's real name."

There was no response from beside him. He figured Gu Zhuoyan didn't know either. Suddenly, his shoulder felt heavy. Gu Zhuoyan had tilted his head to rest on his shoulder, already fast asleep.

Zhuang Fanxin sat there obediently. After a moment, his shoulder grew sore and numb, but he endured it without moving, afraid of waking the other person up. The other patient looked over and said in amusement, "Which one of you is taking care of whom?"

He smiled. "Could you please turn the volume down a bit?"

Gu Zhuoyan slept peacefully on Zhuang Fanxin's shoulder. His way of taking care of people had always been rough. The one memorable instance was when Gu Baoyan's braids and hair clip got tangled, and he directly offered a helping hand by cutting them with scissors. At this moment, while looking after a patient, his performance was inevitably less than ideal.

When the drip was almost finished, Zhuang Fanxin called the nurse to remove the needle. Gu Zhuoyan finally opened his eyes, shook himself awake, and looked away, feeling embarrassed, pretending nothing had happened.

Zhuang Fanxin's high fever had temporarily subsided, but his steps were unsteady, and he walked very slowly. They walked home slowly from the clinic. Before entering the house, Zhuang Fanxin said, "Thank you."

Gu Zhuoyan handed him the medicine prescribed by the doctor and didn't say "you're welcome." In his view, he and Zhuang Fanxin had already formed a good neighborly relationship of mutual help, and it was getting hard to keep track of who owed whom a favor.

After returning home, Zhuang Fanxin lay down in bed. He unwrapped the two gifts and looked at them. The yukata was fine, but after the initial joy, looking at the sneakers made him feel a bit burdened. They hadn't known each other for long, and receiving a gift worth several thousand yuan seemed inappropriate.

He considered it. Should he give Gu Zhuoyan a return gift of similar value? That would involve saving up his allowance, or perhaps taking on commissions to earn some money. He still felt a bit drowsy and decided to make a detailed plan after he recovered from his illness.

In the evening, Zhuang Xianyang and Zhao Jianqiu returned. With his parents to look after him, Zhuang Fanxin was in much better spirits than in the afternoon. However, Zhao Jianqiu's Studio had a project to wrap up tomorrow, a rather important one, and Zhuang Xianyang also had a full day of major classes scheduled that couldn't be changed at the last minute.

Zhuang Fanxin lay in bed. His phone alarm showed he had an advanced math class the next morning. He didn't ask Zhuang Xianyang to call in sick for him, feeling that he could persevere.

His face, which could have rivaled that of someone of mixed heritage, looked exceptionally haggard after a night of fever. When Zhuang Fanxin woke up the next day, his curly hair was matted, and his lips were so dry they were cracked. He looked as old as a twenty-year-old.

He got up, took a shower, and changed into clean, fresh clothes, successfully returning to the prime of his seventeen years. Most importantly, he couldn't wait to try on those shoes.

He put them on. They weren't too big or too small, just right. He tied the laces and strutted back and forth in front of the mirror. Zhuang Fanxin admired himself for a while, then went downstairs to eat and take his medicine before leaving with his schoolbag on his back.

At the gate, he ran into Gu Zhuoyan walking his dog again. Zhuang Fanxin greeted him, "Morning."

Gu Zhuoyan pulled the dog to a stop and looked Zhuang Fanxin over. It seemed the fever was gone, but his large eyes were still a bit red and swollen. "Feeling better?" he asked. "Why can't you just rest? Where are you off to now?"

Zhuang Fanxin answered, "I have math class."

Persisting despite being sick. Gu Zhuoyan said, "Quite diligent."

Zhuang Fanxin smiled shyly. He didn't particularly dislike studying, but there was another reason for insisting on going to class today. Wearing new shoes, he couldn't resist wanting to go out and walk around.

"I'm off then." He waved goodbye.

After walking a few steps, Zhuang Fanxin remembered that in today's math class, they were going to go over the test paper—the very one he'd had Gu Zhuoyan do for him. Because it was an advanced class, the teacher would grade every test paper to judge everyone's performance fluctuations based on their scores.

Zhuang Fanxin turned back and asked, "That math paper you did for me last time, was it difficult?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "It was alright." In reality, he'd already forgotten.

Zhuang Fanxin felt uncertain. "Could it get a hundred points?"

Gu Zhuoyan paused for a moment. "Maybe."

Half an hour later, Zhuang Fanxin took a taxi to the cram school. He got a cup of hot water and found a seat far from the air conditioner. The bell rang for class, and the teacher arrived fashionably late, holding a stack of answer sheets. He gave the class a cursory glance, then looked at Zhuang Fanxin with a smile.

Zhuang Fanxin froze. 'What's he looking at me for? Could it be that I did poorly on the paper?'

"This set of problems was quite difficult. Several people left the last two questions blank," the teacher said from the podium. "Everyone listen carefully as I go over them today."

Since it was quite difficult, doing poorly was excusable.

Zhuang Fanxin relaxed a little. Just then, the answer sheets were handed out, and he quickly took his. Placing it on the desk, he saw that it was covered in red check marks. He suspiciously flipped it to the front to see the score. My god!

A "150" was strikingly written on it—a perfect score.

Zhuang Fanxin was dumbfounded. He looked up and met the teacher's wise gaze sparkling behind his glasses, and instantly understood the meaning of that smile. He took a sip of hot water to calm his nerves. He remembered that his best performance on a school exam was 146 points, but on the advanced class test papers, he usually hovered around 110.

The class bell rang. The teacher told everyone to get their papers ready, and he began to explain the problems.

Zhuang Fanxin listened to the lecture attentively and gradually grasped the difficulty of this test paper. The more he did, the more he thought about the hired help who had done the paper for him. He had really underestimated Gu Zhuoyan. He looked so nonchalant, yet he'd managed to get a perfect score on his first try.

Gradually, they reached the later, major questions. The teacher said, "The twentieth question is quite difficult. The accuracy rate was very low."

Zhuang Fanxin read the question. After one read-through, he didn't quite understand it, nor did he notice the teacher add, "Only one student solved this problem, and he also has the only perfect score in the class."

Zhuang Fanxin began to read it a second time. As he read, he lifted his head. 'The only perfect score, he's not talking about me, is he?'

Just then, the teacher met his gaze and said with a smile, "Zhuang Fanxin, come up and solve this problem."

The author has something to say:

The news Gu Zhuoyan was watching came from 1818 Golden Eye.