Chapter 118 The wind blows through the night after the rain...

The wind blew through the night after the rain, carrying a cool dampness. The dampness didn't penetrate the glass, but the ward was still warm and humid.

Cheng Mingdu's breathing was slightly labored, each breath heavy and strained. Ye Yuying turned her head to look at him, her lungs also aching in a similar way.

“Dr. Wu has a bad temper. He’ll scold you if he knows you’re coming up.” His voice was still low, but it was too weak to convey any reproach.

She had been scolded by Dr. Wu several times for trying to go up to the third floor. She felt sad and wronged, but she listened silently and told herself that she would do it again next time.

"Then don't tell him," she replied softly, secretly sensing his body temperature through the blanket.

He looked at her quietly, wanting to say something, but in the end he only sighed softly.

She picked up the water glass from the bedside table, replaced it with fresh hot water, her movements clumsy but as quiet as possible.

"Have a drink."

He shook his head: "I'm not thirsty."

"Are you sure?" she insisted, gently bringing the rim of the cup to his lips.

She accidentally pressed too hard, and the glass just touched his lower lip, changing the shape of his lips. She was stunned for a moment.

Cheng Mingdu did not refuse again, slowly raised his hand to take it, and lowered his head to take a sip. In that instant, steam rose around his lips, and the light reflected a faint white mist.

She couldn't help but think of the dream on the ship again, and couldn't help but ask, "How did that crew member manage to break your mouth so easily last time?"

She simply couldn't imagine what kind of precise collision it could have been.

What she didn't notice was that Cheng Mingdu paused for several seconds while drinking water, and his Adam's apple only started moving again after a long while.

He turned his head slightly, looked at her, his gaze calm, and explained very casually, "It was a square whiskey glass that was knocked over when I lifted the tray."

"Oh..." She listened to the answer absentmindedly, and didn't want to ask any more questions.

The night was so gentle, and she loved the feeling. She could hear her own breath spreading through the air, mingling with his.

In his memory, Cheng Mingdu rarely got sick, and rarely showed such a sickly side.

"You should go and rest." He put down his cup, his voice weak but still somewhat calm. "Did the doctor prescribe any medicine for you?"

"It's ready. I'll eat it before I go to bed." She smiled softly, her voice a little hoarse. She hesitated for a while, then stopped herself from speaking.

He asked, "What are you trying to say?"

She shook her head, considering whether she could say it like this: "I want to spend more time with you."

Seemingly noticing the other person's surprised expression, she immediately changed her tune and added, "I've been sick lately and can't go out, so I'm a bit bored."

His gaze finally shifted slightly, and despite his weakness, his voice was exceptionally gentle: "Let's wait until I'm better before we go."

“But it’s not boring when you talk to me,” she thought for a moment and then added, “It’s okay if we don’t talk. It’s not boring when there are people around.”

He barely said anything, which was tantamount to acquiescing.

After taking the medication, Cheng Mingdu became even more sleepy than before. When Ye Yuying woke up from her dream late at night, she found that she had just fallen asleep next to Cheng Mingdu.

At this moment, Cheng Mingdu was not awakened. His sleeping face was peaceful, and there was rarely a moment when even the sharpness between his brows was completely gone.

She liked his gentle tone of voice while he was sick, and hoped for his speedy recovery.

Before leaving, she tidied up the blankets covering him, and then quietly left his bedroom.

That night, she developed a fever again, feeling as if she were a small boat floating in boiling water. Her mind was filled with chaotic images—past, present, real, and illusory—all intertwined.

In her dreams, she witnessed Cheng Mingdu's unattainable figure, and her heart always ached. She saw him walking down the aisle with another woman. On the wedding day, she forced herself to smile, but then burst into tears in the banquet hall's restroom.

She went to the dressing room to see Cheng Mingdu, only to find him looking down at the "sister-in-law" whose face she couldn't see, being made up by the makeup artist.

At that moment, she felt utterly desperate, as if she were drowning, and didn't understand why things had escalated to this point.

The scene shifts, and Cheng Mingdu emerges alone from the dressing room. She rushes forward, grabs his hand, and asks in a trembling voice, "Why so suddenly? Who is she? How did she suddenly appear?"

"Your bride is coming...why was there no warning at all...?"

Cheng Mingdu looked at her in astonishment, and asked, "Aying, what's wrong? Why are you crying..."

“We were college classmates and have been dating for many years, but we didn’t tell our families before,” he explained patiently.

Ye Yuying heard a buzzing sound in her ears, and the lights in the banquet hall blurred in an instant.

She could barely hear what he was saying; she only saw the bridesmaid helping the "bride" adjust the hem of her wedding dress. The white veil, like snow, separated her from the crowd when it was spread out.

"College classmate..." she repeated in a hoarse voice, her tone as hollow as if it came from a dream, "...so many years?"

"yes."

His expression was calm and resolute, a resoluteness that slowly broke her heart.

"Then what am I?" she asked through gritted teeth.

He was stunned, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he didn't understand why she would ask such a question: "You are A-Ying, my sister."

"Aying?" she murmured, repeating the name, then suddenly laughed. The laughter echoed in the empty dressing room, but it sounded like freshly cut, bloody slices of meat.

She hesitated, her voice trembling, tears streaming down her face.

Cheng Mingdu reached out to comfort her shoulder, but she suddenly took a step back.

"You know absolutely nothing!"

That sound was almost a cry.

Her body was trembling, and tears were welling up in her eyes.

"How would I know if you didn't tell me?"

"It's too late for me to confess my feelings now..."

Her voice was like a tearing sound. The next moment, the mirror in the dressing room suddenly shattered, and light poured down from the crack, illuminating her panicked face.

She saw her reflection in the shards of the mirror, her eyes disheveled, red, and wet, as if it weren't her at all.

"Why can't it be me?" Her voice was almost drowned out by the waves, she couldn't even hear herself. "Even just once, why can't it be me..."

Cheng Mingdu raised his hand, opened his lips, but made no sound.

The world twisted and collapsed at that moment.

The wedding march drifted from afar, deep and solemn, while she was trapped in a chaotic darkness.

She saw herself walking step by step toward the hall, her feet seemingly stepping on countless shattered windows, her ears filled with noise.

The newlyweds were slowly walking down the red carpet, guests were applauding, and flower petals were falling in the air—what a wedding of the century!

She couldn't see the bride's face clearly, but she could see a gentle figure hidden under the white veil, a person completely different from her.

So this is the type of girl Cheng Mingdu likes.

She reached out, wanting to lift the veil.

The instant your fingertips touched it...

The entire wedding suddenly came to a standstill.

The petals froze in mid-air, the candlelight was frozen, and the music disappeared.

Cheng Mingdu turned his head, and his eyes met hers.

“Aying,” he said in a low, cold voice, “enough.”

At that moment, all the voices were drawn into a single line.

She was startled to find herself standing on an endless sea, the red carpet beneath her feet transformed into polar water.

Beneath the ice, seawater was pouring in; she tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Cheng Mingdu's figure rescued her from the sea, and they returned to the day of her eighteenth birthday coming-of-age ceremony...

The first thing she did after getting ashore was to grab his hand tightly, holding it firmly and refusing to let go.

"Brother, look, we've started over!"

Her voice carried an almost childlike joy, though it was choked with tears, it also carried an absurd hope.

The sea breeze whipped her skirt around, and the icy seawater swirled around her ankles. She was soaked to the bone, her fingers gripping that hand tightly, as if clinging to the last piece of driftwood in her life.

Cheng Mingdu was stunned for a few seconds.

He looked down and saw her face covered in tears and water, making it almost impossible to distinguish which drop was a tear and which was the sea.

"If we could do it all over again, what would you say to me?" he asked, his deep eyes fixing on her.

"I would have told you I liked you sooner; I wouldn't let it be too late this time!"

Before she could finish speaking, darkness enveloped her once more...

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself lying in bed. The light from the window was cold and pale, and the air still carried the dampness of the rain.

She woke up in her own bed, her hand resting on her lower abdomen, seemingly making some shameful attempts.

The next second, Cheng Mingdu's voice rang in her ears, strong as liquor, yet carrying a suppressed tenderness: "Aying, I'll help you..."

She felt like her whole body was on fire, a mixture of nervousness, trepidation, anticipation, and shyness.

All she could hear were low echoes; she couldn't tell if it was the wind, the waves, or his whispered breathing in her dream.

Her heart began to pound faster and faster; she tried to suppress it, but it only grew clearer. The emotion was like an undercurrent, churning deep within her body, devoid of any flame, yet burning with an intense heat that threatened to scorch her.

“Brother…” She reached out, trying to touch him, but he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pressed it down above her head, making it almost impossible for her to hear her own voice.

The emptiness in my chest was gradually filled by a certain emotion.

The burning flames of desire were slowly eroding her; her breath, falling on her face, condensed into dew, landing on her lips, and scattering into a slight tremor.

She was afraid, yet unwilling to escape. It felt like being trapped in a never-ending rain, surrounded by his lingering scent; she couldn't find a way out, nor did she want to.

The line between dream and reality blurred at that moment. She couldn't tell if she was missing him or wanting him to fall into depravity with her.

Her breathing was rapid and trembling. Those flowers of desire, born in silence and nurtured by endurance, finally bloomed quietly in the night when no one noticed, after repeated suppression.

The next second, Ye Yuying suddenly opened her eyes, sweat sliding down her forehead.

She was still lying in her own bed, this time fully awake from her dream.

Her breathing became rapid, and a sharp pain shot through her chest, as if a piece of it had been hollowed out.

The boundary between dreams and reality is so blurred at this moment that it almost doesn't exist.

She reached for the paper on the bedside table, wiped away her sweat, and finally dragged her sick body to take a bath.

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Author's Note: The more ambiguous the relationship, the harder it is to speed up the plot, but I'll try my best to sprint ahead! Let's go!