She Is Seriously Ill - Chapter 2:

Chapter 02:

Are you a dog?

Chen Guo’s expression stiffened slightly, cracks appearing on her calm face as it turned pale.

Jiang Chen looked at her: What’s wrong?

Chen Guo’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

Just as both fell silent, the tall woman from earlier pushed the door open and entered. The moment she stepped inside, she sensed the tense atmosphere. She first glanced at the person standing stiffly by the sofa as if being punished, but before she could say anything.

The other person looked up and greeted her first: Auntie Tang, long time no see.

Tang Jing nodded, offering an unnatural faint smile. Yes, it has been a while.

As soon as she finished speaking, conversation could be heard from outside—it was the homeroom teacher of Class 9, who taught Chinese. Her voice had a unique depth and resonance, making it easily recognizable.

Aunt. Chen Guo glanced at Jiang Chen. There’s something I need to handle in class. I’ll go take care of it first.

Jiang Chen turned her face away.

Tang Jing paused for a moment, then spoke to ease the tension. Go ahead and attend to your duties. It’s fine, I’m here.

Okay. Chen Guo took another look at Jiang Chen before turning to leave.

The door opened and closed. Tang Jing withdrew her gaze and asked with concern, Are you feeling better? Do you need to take some time off?

Jiang Chen wiped the dust off her nose with her finger. I’m fine. Are we being called to start work?

Yes.

Let’s go then. Jiang Chen picked up the thermos from the table.

Tang Jing pressed her lips together, wanting to speak several times but unsure where to begin. In the end, she gave up. Don’t push yourself if you’re not feeling well.

I know.

Just as Tang Jing was about to reach the door, Jiang Chen suddenly asked, What time do we finish tonight?

Tang Jing was taken aback for a moment before replying, Around nine o’clock.

Jiang Chen nodded. Alright, I understand.

.

After leaving the matter to the homeroom teacher, Chen Guo returned to the office. There were still over ten minutes before evening self-study. A few teachers were chatting idly. The younger one noticed Chen Guo come in and reached over to place a small cream cake on her desk.

Teacher Chen, this cake is for you!

Chen Guo looked up and smiled at her. Thank you.

Don’t be so polite.

Hao Xinyi was the English teacher for Class 9 and, like Chen Guo, had just started working there this year.

During the orientation training, Hao Xinyi had taken a liking to chatting with Chen Guo. She had a gentle temperament, never rushed in speech or action, and was inexplicably comfortable to be around.

Moreover, since they were around the same age and coincidentally assigned to the same class, they gradually grew closer.

Chen Guo wasn’t hungry at the moment, so she set the cake aside and looked up to ask, Do you have self-study tonight?

Yeah. Hao Xinyi made a pained face and gestured with her fingers at Chen Guo. Three periods in a row. Ugh, my throat is definitely going to give out.

Chen Guo chuckled and reminded her, Don’t forget to bring your water bottle.

Mhm—oh, by the way, I have something to tell you. Hao Xinyi sat opposite Chen Guo. Leaning in to whisper was a bit awkward, so she went over and pulled out the chair next to Chen Guo, sitting down mysteriously. Guess who I just saw?

Chen Guo turned her head. Who?

Hao Xinyi raised an eyebrow. Take a guess.

Chen Guo pretended to think for a moment. The grade-level director?

Nope. Hao Xinyi leaned in closer, barely containing her excitement. I just passed by the big sports field and saw Jiang Chen. She walked right past me—Jiang Chen! You know, the female lead from *Irreconcilable*? She was so popular back in the day, a goddess to so many people.

The school prohibited students from gathering to watch celebrities film, requiring teachers to set an example and avoid discussing the matter privately. Hao Xinyi grew increasingly excited as she spoke, but dared not raise her voice too much, lowering her head until her face flushed red with suppressed emotion.

Chen Guo glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. I know.

You don’t understand how thin she is! People who become stars are truly extraordinary. Even with a layer of dust on her face, she’s stunning enough to make you unable to look away.

And she smelled so good! I almost forgot how to walk properly. I wonder what perfume she uses—how can it be so captivating?

Her skin is incredible too, so fair and tender—I’m not exaggerating—just like a peeled hard-boiled egg.

Hao Xinyi continued her animated narration until the self-study bell rang, then reluctantly picked up her textbook and headed to class.

Silence returned.

The smile slowly faded from Chen Guo’s face. She picked up the thermos on her desk—the water had been fetched in the afternoon and was no longer scalding. She took a sip, as if pressing a pause button, sitting quietly with downcast eyes.

Outside, the sky gradually darkened. When the first evening self-study session ended, students streamed out to use the restrooms. After a burst of noise, quiet settled once more.

Chen Guo slightly lifted her eyelids, set down the cup, went to wash her face in the restroom, then returned to focus on preparing lessons.

By the time she finished, it was already 9:30. The first-year students were about to finish evening self-study. To avoid the crowd, Chen Guo didn’t delay, simply tidied up, grabbed her bag, and left.

As dismissal time approached, numerous food vendors gathered at the school entrance, selling various snacks. Each stall hung a bright yellow lamp, casting a particularly warm glow over the entrance.

Chen Guo lived very close to the school—just a ten-minute walk. She especially enjoyed this journey home, particularly at night.

She stopped at a food cart and ordered a small portion of Snowflake Chicken Strips. The vendor, cheerful and pretty, always wore a friendly smile. As she handed over the order, she gently reminded, Fresh out of the fryer—be careful, it’s hot.

Chen Guo smiled back. Thank you.

She took the food and turned to leave. Just as she was about to cross the overpass after exiting the bustling area, a parked car suddenly lit its taillights. Thinking it was about to depart, Chen Guo paused to let it pass.

But the car remained stationary. Suspicious, Chen Guo glanced forward and prepared to detour when the window rolled halfway down, revealing a familiar face.

Chen Guo froze in place.

Jiang Chen gave her no time to recover, saying directly, Get in.

Chen Guo pressed her lips together, instinctively moving toward the back seat. Jiang Chen turned to stop her. No room back there.

……

Chen Guo withdrew and obediently complied. Okay.

Jiang Chen rolled up the window, resting her hands on the steering wheel while keeping Chen Guo in her peripheral vision. Only after Chen Guo fastened her seatbelt did she start the car and drive away.

No music played in the car—it was very quiet.

Chen Guo placed her bag on her lap, holding the freshly bought chicken strips that still steamed warmly. She lowered her head, fingers curling slightly, before looking up with a faint smile.

Aunt, you’ve wrapped up for the day.

Jiang Chen gave her a brief glance without responding.

Chen Guo looked down again, unconsciously tapping her fingernails against her palm. You must be tired after filming all day, Aunt. Have you eaten?They happened to encounter a red light. As the car stopped, Jiang Chen ignored her question and instead looked at her meaningfully. Did you only find out today that I’m filming at Jinyuan?

Chen Guo nodded. Mm.

Jiang Chen chuckled, her words laced with meaning: You don’t usually go online, and you haven’t heard anyone around you mention it?

No. Chen Guo replied with an utterly unruffled expression. I’ve been too busy to notice.

The excuse sounded terribly flimsy. Jiang Chen smirked mockingly and stepped on the accelerator. Understood.

They fell silent. The car passed through a traffic light, entered an upscale residential complex, and parked in the garage. Jiang Chen got out and opened the rear door. Come get the stuff.

Okay.

Chen Guo walked over. On the back seat were two large bags filled with assorted groceries—vegetables, fruits, snacks, and drinks—they had just bought from the supermarket.

Each carrying a bag, they headed for the elevator. Over the years, the complex had been well-maintained by the property management. The facilities showed no signs of aging and retained their usual grandeur. Pushing the door open, the interior furnishings remained exactly as they were.

In the shoe cabinet lay the slippers Chen Guo had worn four years ago. She paused for a moment, instinctively glancing up at Jiang Chen.

Catching the look out of the corner of her eye, Jiang Chen remarked lightly, Forgot to throw them away.

An unsurprising answer.

Chen Guo smiled faintly, seemingly unbothered, and entered the room with her usual composure. Familiar with the place, she opened the refrigerator, storing the meat in the freezer and the fruits in the fresh-keeping compartment.

Jiang Chen turned on the TV and, glancing over, caught sight of Chen Guo’s busy figure. For a moment, she looked slightly dazed.

From the moment they met, Chen Guo’s series of reactions had made Jiang Chen wonder if the four-year gap had ever really existed.

It was as if nothing had happened, as if they were still like—

Auntie?

Jiang Chen snapped out of it. Hmm?

What would you like to eat? I’ll cook for you. Chen Guo looked at her expectantly.

Jiang Chen tossed the remote aside, completely forgetting she had already eaten dinner, and stood up, heading toward the bedroom. Whatever you want.

Okay.

Knowing that artists need to watch their weight, Chen Guo prepared the soup lightly. When Jiang Chen emerged from her shower, the aroma of food greeted her. She stopped and glanced toward the kitchen. What are you making?

Wax Gourd and Pork Rib Soup. It’s been hot lately—this helps cool down. Chen Guo turned around.

Jiang Chen was wearing a nightgown, the faint scent of her shower gel lingering pleasantly around her.

She stood by the kitchen counter behind Chen Guo, peeking at the simmering soup in the pot, and paused. You’re making soup now?

Chen Guo pressed her lips together and averted her gaze. I made it light. Having a little won’t make you gain weight.

Jiang Chen had meant it was too much trouble, but seeing Chen Guo didn’t seem to think so, she said nothing.

Suddenly, she caught a different scent. What else is there?

Chen Guo blinked, then remembered. Oh, it’s the snack I bought on the roadside earlier.

Busy with the soup, she hadn’t gotten around to eating it. Chen Guo reached for the plastic bag behind Jiang Chen and untied it, releasing an instant burst of fragrance. She looked up and asked, Auntie, do you want to try some?

Jiang Chen glanced at the contents of the paper bowl, clearly uninterested. You have it.

Chen Guo smiled. Truth be told, she didn’t really like these fried snacks either, but she bought them every now and then, as if deliberately seeking out some semblance of liveliness to keep life from feeling too dull.

It’s fine, the soup is almost ready. Chen Guo didn’t mind, putting the snack away and turning back to check the soup. Are you hungry?

Then, realizing something, she added the address, Auntie.

It wasn’t a big deal. Ever since they met, the term auntie seemed to have taken permanent residence on Chen Guo’s lips.

But adding explanations after everything had been said would seem too deliberate.

Jiang Chen narrowed her eyes, watching her.

Chen Guo used a towel to pad her hand, casually lifted the lid to take a look, then closed it again. Aun—

Just as she turned around, a shadow suddenly fell over her. Before the second syllable could escape her lips, her mouth was sealed.

Jiang Chen kissed her.

Chen Guo froze instantly, forgetting to breathe.

The kiss was brief. When they parted, Jiang Chen stared closely at the reaction on Chen Guo’s face, a twisted sense of satisfaction rising in her heart. She curled her lips slightly, her gaze lingering on Chen Guo’s face as she deliberately drawled, Why’d you stop calling?

……

Chen Guo’s eyelashes fluttered lightly, but she said nothing.

A smile played on Jiang Chen’s lips, though her eyes held no warmth. Weren’t you so fond of calling me ‘Auntie’? Go on, call me that again. Jiang Chen had endured it all evening—hearing Auntie over and over had grated on her nerves and disgusted her to the core.

Chen Guo slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes slightly moist.

Their eyes met.

In the silent air, it felt as if a taut string had snapped. Jiang Chen’s chest tightened, and the curve of her lips gradually faded. It was unclear who moved first.

By the time they realized it, they were already on the bed.

The curtains in the room were drawn tightly, leaving the light dim.

Gone was Chen Guo’s usual mix of defiance and docility. Pressing Jiang Chen down, her breathing grew rapid as she asked, Were the snacks in the car bought for me?

……

Jiang Chen shifted slightly. Don’t flatter yourself.

Chen Guo nipped gently at Jiang Chen’s neck. So this is why you asked me to come.

Not just for this, but it seemed only through this could she strip away Chen Guo’s facade and reveal her true self.

Jiang Chen was utterly sick of that composed, unaffected expression—the one that called her Auntie so breezily, as if nothing had ever happened.

But she said nothing, reaching out to open the bedside drawer. She fumbled inside, pulled out a box, and tossed it to Chen Guo. The meaning was clear.

Chen Guo picked it up and glanced at it. When did you buy this?

Jiang Chen closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling softly. As long as it works, why so many questions?

Chen Guo brushed her fingers against Jiang Chen’s cheek and said abruptly, You’re warm.

Seeing her hesitate, Jiang Chen opened her eyes, her tone teasing. What, forget how to do it?

Chen Guo leaned in and kissed Jiang Chen’s lips appeasingly. No way.

Then stop dawdling.

Got it.

……

Afterward, Jiang Chen leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette. Smoking helped her calm down and think things through, though her habit had grown heavier over the years, and many questions remained unanswered.

Like now.

She lifted her gaze toward the door as Chen Guo entered carrying a bowl. Are you hungry? Would you like some soup?

The cigarette was nearly burnt down, the heat stinging her fingers. Jiang Chen leaned over to the bedside and stubbed it out in the ashtray. Leave it there for now. I’ll have it later.

Okay. Chen Guo set the bowl down and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pushing it open to let the smell dissipate. Smoking isn’t good for your health.

Jiang Chen, about to light a second cigarette, smirked at the remark. Since when do you care about what’s good for your health?

Chen Guo had long grown immune to Jiang Chen’s sarcasm and paid it no mind. Well, our teachers mentioned it back in school.

In the end, Jiang Chen put the cigarette back—not because she heeded Chen Guo’s words, but because she thought it immoral to subject others to secondhand smoke.

Seeing Chen Guo’s curved lips, What are you smiling at?

Chen Guo shook her head and picked up the soup from the bedside table. You can drink it now.

Having expended too much energy earlier, Jiang Chen was indeed a bit hungry and reached out to take it.

But Chen Guo’s hand holding the bowl suddenly stopped, remaining completely still.

Jiang Chen was taken aback and looked up in surprise, discovering Chen Guo staring at her wrist.

There was a five-centimeter-long scar there. After several treatments, it had become very faint and light, almost blending with her skin tone. Unless one looked closely, it was hardly noticeable, but it existed.

Earlier on the bed, no matter how many times Jiang Chen tried to evade, she couldn’t stop Chen Guo from kissing that spot over and over until the skin became sore from the sucking. Only then did Jiang Chen finally push her away, eyes red as she cursed, Bastard.

But off the bed, they both acted as if nothing had happened, never mentioning the incident.

It was a messy history that would never end if brought up, and both seemed to find it too troublesome.

Jiang Chen sat up a bit, intending to take the bowl herself, but accidentally strained her thigh muscle, causing her to frown slightly.

…Ouch.

Chen Guo suddenly snapped back to reality, looking anxious. Does it still hurt?

Jiang Chen took the soup and asked expressionlessly, Are you a dog?

Chen Guo was momentarily stunned before realizing Jiang Chen was referring to something else. Her expression relaxed slightly. Didn’t you like it?

Jiang Chen inexplicably felt like smoking again. She licked her lips, glanced around, and finally her gaze fell on the nearly empty box on the bedside table. Pausing briefly, she countered with a question instead of answering: Did you date anyone in college?

No. Chen Guo answered almost without hesitation.

Why not give it a try?

Couldn’t.

After Jiang Chen finished drinking, Chen Guo took away both the bowl and the cigarettes, then got into bed and hugged Jiang Chen from behind.

What about you?

Jiang Chen chuckled, feigning ignorance. What about me?

Was there anyone else? Chen Guo asked, kissing the back of Jiang Chen’s neck.

Jiang Chen leaned back slightly, gently pressing against Chen Guo. Who am I?

Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen asked, And off the bed?

Aunt.

Jiang Chen closed her eyes and let out a soft laugh. Indeed, they were only suited for intimate moments in bed.

Once they stepped outside and started thinking clearly, they’d realize that all the unresolved issues from before were still there, completely unchanged.