Keys and doorbells

With the help of sedatives, the tension in Cheng Xiaorui's body finally relaxed slightly. Regular medication was like a silent ritual, and Chen Zihan was the guardian of this ritual. He would silently offer warm water, watch Cheng Xiaorui swallow the pills, and then chat about light topics at his mother's bedside.

This dependence is like a vine growing in the soil of despair, silently entwining them together again.

The hospital rooftop at night became their temporary refuge. Here, under the sparse lights of the city, Cheng Xiaorui revealed everything to Chen Zihan for the first time.

He recounted the fear brought on by his mother's recurring illness, the uncontrollable panic attacks and sleepless nights—the anxiety disorder he had long concealed. Finally, after a long silence, he confessed in a barely audible voice the unspoken "deal" between him and Lu Ziyi: an agreement to exchange companionship and the possibility of love for financial and resource security during his mother's critical illness.

The cold wind blew on Xiaorui's cheeks. He felt a sense of naked shame, but also strangely relieved.

Chen Zihan just listened, without surprise, without judgment, and without showing any sympathy. He simply put the coat in his hand on Cheng Xiaorui's shoulders and said in a deep voice: "It will all pass."

At this moment, Chen Zihan became the only person standing in Cheng Xiaorui's complete world. He saw every crack, every piece of devastation, and saw Cheng Xiaorui's struggle within it. This unconditional, almost entrusting trust possessed a power stronger than love. It was based on the deepest vulnerability, yet it also forged the strongest bond.

Under such extreme circumstances, their relationship became closer than ever before, a complex emotion mixed with old feelings, new knowledge, shared hardships and uniqueness.

Meanwhile, Lu Zi was quietly pushed further to the periphery. He might have provided material support, but he was forever isolated from Cheng Xiaorui's true inner world. Each time he turned away, it might have been merely a physical departure; but now, Cheng Xiaorui's complete honesty with Chen Zihan was the true emotional "folding up the umbrella and turning away" that isolated Lu Zi.

The balance of the relationship was completely tilted. Cheng Xiaorui handed Chen Zihan the last key, while Lu Ziyi couldn't even find the doorbell.

Another evening, Chen Zihan appeared in the ward on time. He didn't take out his notes first, but pulled out a palm-sized transparent medicine box from his pocket. Inside the box were compartments filled with the anti-anxiety medication that Cheng Xiaorui had to take morning and night.

"How do you feel today?" He asked naturally as he unscrewed the thermos and handed it to me, as if he was asking "How is the weather today?"

Cheng Xiaorui took the water cup, his fingertips no longer trembling as before. He glanced at the medicine box and even managed a faint smile: "Not bad. At least... my hands are not shaking as much anymore."

Chen Zihan nodded and watched him take the medicine before taking out his textbook: "Today's physics class talks about electromagnetic induction. I drew a diagram so it's easier to understand."

Lu Ziyi had come once before and happened to catch Cheng Xiaorui taking medicine under Chen Zihan's watchful eye. He had brought a box of expensive, imported health supplements, beautifully packaged. Cheng Xiaorui glanced at it, muttered a "thank you," and placed it in the corner of the bedside table, where it remained, piled with other supplements, untouched.

Sometimes, they didn't speak. Cheng Xiaorui napped beside his mother's bed, while Chen Zihan sat in a chair nearby, reading or working on his laptop. The only sounds in the ward were the rhythmic ticking of instruments, the turning of pages, and the gentle tapping of keyboards.

This silence wasn't awkward, but rather filled with tacit support. Cheng Xiaorui knew that if he turned around, he'd see that person there. This very presence was the best weapon against boundless loneliness and fear.

In contrast, Lu Ziyi's presence always carried an invisible pressure. He'd usually briefly inquire about Cheng's mother's condition, discuss the handling of the expenses, and then lapse into an even heavier, more suffocating silence. In his presence, Cheng Xiaorui subconsciously straightened his back, like a soldier awaiting inspection, unable to relax.

Once, Cheng Zhixu was in a rare moment of better spirits. He took Chen Zihan's hand and said weakly, "Zihan... from now on, keep an eye on Xiaorui... he's worried..."

Chen Zihan gently held the old woman's skinny hand and nodded solemnly: "Auntie, don't worry."

After Cheng Zhixu fell asleep, Cheng Xiaorui walked Chen Zihan to the elevator. The corridor was empty at night.

"My mother..." Cheng Xiaorui's voice choked.

"I know." Chen Zihan interrupted him, not looking at him, his eyes fixed on the ticking numbers on the elevator. "I will."

This promise was simple, but it weighed heavily on Cheng Xiaorui's heart. He began to occasionally talk to Chen Zihan about vague "later times"—"When Mom gets better, I think..." Although they both knew that "later times" might never come in the way they expected, at least he was willing to imagine a future that included Chen Zihan.

The future that Lu Zi planned for Cheng Xiaorui was clear, cold, and unquestionable—three months later, the agreement would be fulfilled. He never asked Cheng Xiaorui what he wanted.

And so, in the daily grind of everyday moments, the very fabric of their relationship was quietly transformed. Chen Zihan's companionship, like a pill swallowed with warm water, delicately mended the cracks in Cheng Xiaorui's heart. Meanwhile, the resources Lu Ziyi provided, like the expensive gifts on the bench outside the ward—though priceless, they remained a layer of cold glass, unable to touch his true inner needs.

Cheng Xiaorui's world is collapsing, but above the ruins, the emotion between him and Chen Zihan, based on the deepest understanding and support, is regrowing in a quiet yet powerful way.

Lu Zi also knew that Cheng Xiaorui had started taking his medication regularly and his mood had stabilized. He even felt a little relieved by this—even though the source of this stability had nothing to do with him.

He watched Chen Zihan naturally pass the warm water, and Cheng Xiaorui swallow the pills as he watched. That simple action formed a closed loop he couldn't intervene in. The medication he provided could alleviate physical anxiety, but it couldn't reach the soul that needed to be "protected" for peace of mind.

He knew the hospital rooftop existed. Some nights, he watched the two men leave the ward one after another, leaving a space he couldn't enter. Standing downstairs, he could see the blurry silhouettes on the rooftop, like watching a pantomime that had nothing to do with him.

And he is the one who is excluded from the right to know.

"Transaction"—when Cheng Xiaorui uttered this word to Chen Zihan, it became an indelible label on Lu Ziyi. All his sincere actions were nailed to the stigma of "equal exchange" by this word. Chen Zihan knew everything, and thus gained his "trust"; while Lu Ziyi, as the other party in the transaction, was isolated by his own "bargaining chips."

Cheng Xiaorui's confession to Chen Zihan was the most thoroughgoing judgment on Lu Ziyi. Not only had he lost Cheng Xiaorui's present, he had also been deprived of the right to participate in Cheng Xiaorui's real life. The door to Cheng Xiaorui's fragile heart was completely locked before him, and no one had even told him that there had once been a door there.

The balance of their relationship wasn't just tilted; it had already collapsed. Cheng Xiaorui personally handed the key to Chen Zihan, and Lu Ziyi, unaware that he'd been searching for the doorbell—Lu Ziyi knew full well... He even felt a sense of relief—a relief tinged with bitterness, as he realized that the medication he provided could alleviate physical anxiety, but like him, it could never reach the soul that needed to be "protected" to find peace. He'd tried silent companionship, but that silence was like a boulder, weighing down both of them. He didn't understand why the same silence became a source of support for Chen Zihan.