fever

At the end of January, the "cold wave warning" repeatedly mentioned in the weather forecast finally became a reality. The temperature plummeted, and the cold wind, carrying fine snowflakes, blew day and night. Thick frost flowers formed on the windowpanes, and breath outside turned to ice.

Inside the factory workshop, the roar of the machines seemed to be somewhat sluggish due to the extreme cold.

Qi Shuo wore a mask and hat, revealing only his calm eyes, but his movements were faster than usual. The low temperature made the metal parts particularly cold and sharp, slightly affecting the speed of the assembly line, requiring him to concentrate more to keep up.

After a whole day, my fingers were stiff and numb from the cold, and my shoulders and back ached from the persistent low temperatures.

By the time he left work, it was completely dark. A biting wind howled through his collar, cutting into his skin like a knife. Qi Shuo pulled his work jacket tighter and hurried towards the bus stop. While waiting for the bus, he took out his phone and saw a message from Tan Huaiyu sent an hour earlier: [It's gotten really cold today. Go straight home after work, don't come over. I have an online meeting tonight, I don't know how late it will be.]

Following this was an image of a puppy shivering while wrapped tightly in a blanket.

Qi Shuo stared at the message for a few seconds, his fingertips pausing on the cold screen. He looked up at the leaden sky, which seemed to be pressing down, and felt the biting cold wind.

Going back to Sister Jin's house meant a warm room, hot meals, and the company of Qingran and Sister Jin. Meanwhile, at Yucaiyuan, only Tan Huaiyu was there, probably staying up late in front of the computer, too busy to even have a hot meal.

The bus arrived, swaying and rattling. Qi Shuo put away his phone and boarded. The bus headed in the opposite direction from Sister Jin's house.

He didn't reply. Some decisions don't need words.

When he braved the wind and snow and knocked on the door of Yucaiyuan again, Tan Huaiyu, who opened the door, showed undisguised surprise, which was quickly replaced by great joy and worry.

"Qi Shuo?! Why did you still come? It's so cold..." Tan Huaiyu quickly pulled him into the house, patting the snowflakes off his hat and shoulders; they were icy cold to the touch. Qi Shuo's lips were pale, and tiny ice crystals clung to his eyelashes.

"It's nothing," Qi Shuo said briefly, taking off his cold coat. The heating in the room was on full blast, instantly dispelling the chill, but it also sent a slight, uncomfortable shiver down his numb body.

"Why are your hands so cold?" Tan Huaiyu grasped his hand, the temperature startling him. He immediately wrapped his own warm hands around it and rubbed them vigorously. "Sit down first, I'll go get you a cup of hot water."

Qi Shuo didn't refuse. He sat down on the sofa, feeling his frozen limbs slowly warm up, but what followed was a deep weariness and chill that seeped from his bones. He closed his eyes and didn't speak.

Tan Huaiyu brought over some hot water and then went to the kitchen to get busy. Soon, a steaming bowl of ginger soup was placed in front of him, its pungent aroma filling his nostrils.

"Drink it quickly to ward off the cold." Tan Huaiyu looked at him expectantly, her brows furrowed, her amber eyes filled with worry.

Qi Shuo picked up the bowl and sipped the liquid slowly. The scalding liquid slid down his throat, bringing a wave of warmth, but the chill deep within his body didn't seem to be completely dispelled. He put down the bowl, feeling his head grow heavy and his vision blurry.

“You don’t look well,” Tan Huaiyu reached out and touched his forehead. It was burning hot to the touch. His expression changed. “You have a fever!”

Qi Shuo himself also sensed that something was wrong. He had only felt cold and tired before, but now that he was getting warmer, he started to feel dizzy, his temples were throbbing, and his throat was dry and sore.

He frowned, wanting to say he was fine, but his voice was a little hoarse when he spoke: "I might have caught a bit of a cold."

"What do you mean 'a little'? This temperature is definitely high!" Tan Huaiyu panicked and immediately rummaged through drawers and cabinets looking for a thermometer and fever reducer. He always kept a first-aid kit at home, but he didn't know where he had put the thermometer.

He was so anxious that sweat beaded on his forehead, and in the end, he could only press his own forehead against Qi Shuo's, the scalding heat making him panic.

"I'm going to buy medicine!" Tan Huaiyu said, heading to grab her coat.

“No need,” Qi Shuo pulled him back, his strength a little weak, “A good night’s sleep will do the trick.”

"No!" Tan Huaiyu was unusually insistent this time, prying his hands open. "You have a high fever, you must take medicine. I'll be back soon, you lie still."

Without saying a word, he pushed Qi Shuo down onto the sofa, wrapped him tightly in a blanket, grabbed his phone and keys, and rushed out the door.

The door closed, and the room fell silent. Qi Shuo lay on the sofa, feeling dizzy and alternating between chills and fever. He could hear his own heavy breathing, mingling with the howling wind outside the window. His body felt like it was being tormented by both ice and fire, and his bones ached from the very depths of his being.

He hadn't been this sick in a long time, or rather, he hadn't allowed himself to be sick in a long time.

Over the years, he has gotten used to bearing both physical and mental pain alone.

But now, some people are worried about him and are rushing out of the cold wind to buy him medicine.

This realization, amidst his drowsiness and discomfort, stirred a faint, bittersweet warmth in a corner of his heart.

After an unknown amount of time, the door was suddenly pushed open, bringing in a blast of cold air. Tan Huaiyu rushed in, panting, his hair and shoulders covered in snow, his cheeks and nose red from the cold. He was carrying a plastic bag and, without even patting himself dry, rushed to Qi Shuo's side.

"Come on, let's take your temperature first." He opened the newly bought thermometer, his hands trembling slightly, and carefully placed it under Qi Shuo's armpit. Then he sat on the floor next to the sofa, staring at him intently with his lips pressed tightly together.

A few minutes later, the thermometer beeped. Tan Huaiyu took it out and saw that it read 38.9℃.

His face turned even paler. "You need to take medicine and then go to the hospital." He took out the fever reducer and then went to pour some warm water.

Qi Shuo was delirious with fever, but upon hearing the word "hospital," he shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "I don't need to go... I'll just take the medicine."

Knowing Qi Shuo's resistance to the hospital, Tan Huaiyu gritted his teeth and didn't insist any further. He helped Qi Shuo sit up, let him lean against him, carefully fed him the pills, and then gave him half a cup of warm water.

"Lie down and get a good night's sleep. You'll feel better after you sweat it out." Tan Huaiyu laid him flat again, covered him with a blanket, and then went to the bathroom to wring out a damp towel, folded it, and placed it on his forehead.

The cold touch brought Qi Shuo's muddled mind to a moment of clarity. He opened his heavy eyelids and saw Tan Huaiyu squatting by the sofa, looking at him with extremely worried eyes. The light and his disheveled appearance were reflected in those amber eyes.

"I'm fine," Qi Shuo said, trying to reassure him, but his voice was so low it was almost inaudible. "Go on with your work."

“What am I busy with?” Tan Huaiyu’s voice was a little choked. He reached out and gently held Qi Shuo’s burning hand through the blanket. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just stay here and watch over you.”

Qi Shuo wanted to say something, but the dizziness and fatigue brought on by the high fever surged like a tide. In the end, he only moved his fingers almost imperceptibly, grasped Tan Huaiyu's cold fingers with his other hand, and then closed his eyes.

Tan Huaiyu squatted by the sofa, holding his hand, motionless. He looked at Qi Shuo's face, which was abnormally flushed due to the high fever, at his tightly furrowed brows, and at his breathing, which was much heavier than usual. He felt as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping his heart, causing him both pain and panic.

Time flowed slowly in silence and worry. Tan Huaiyu changed the towel on Qi Shuo's forehead every now and then, checking the temperature of his forehead.

The fever reducer seemed to be working, and Qi Shuo's breathing gradually became more stable, but his body temperature was still very high, and he would occasionally let out a muffled groan of discomfort in his sleep.

Tan Huaiyu dared not leave, nor even sit down. He remained in that half-kneeling, half-squatting position, holding Qi Shuo's hand, as if in this way he could transfer his strength to him and share some of his pain.

Night deepened, and the wind outside the window seemed to subside a little. Only a dim wall lamp was on in the room. Tan Huaiyu looked at Qi Shuo's sleeping profile, at his sweat-dampened brow, and the turbulent, complex emotions in his heart gradually settled into a deep, silent protectiveness.

He remembered when he was a child, he was sick with a fever, and Qi Shuo stayed by his bedside, clumsily feeding him water and wiping his sweat. Even though he was also a teenager, he insisted on staying up.

At that time, Qi Shuo's embrace and hands were his only source of reliance and security.

Now, it's his turn to protect Qi Shuo.

He didn't know if they could stay together for life, or what the future held. But at this moment, in this cold, windy night, amidst the burning warmth of his palm, he had only one incredibly clear thought—he wanted this person to be well, and that was all he wanted.

Tan Huaiyu gently tightened his grip on Qi Shuo's hand, as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world.

The night was deep, and the high fever had not subsided.

But in this small, warm room, there is a person who, with all his focus and heart, is silently resisting the cold outside the window, protecting another wounded and fragile heart.

In the latter half of the night, Qi Shuo's body temperature finally began to slowly decrease. The scorching high fever receded like the tide, leaving behind a sticky feeling of being soaked in sweat and a deep, exhausting fatigue.

It was as if he had been adrift in a chaotic ocean for a long time, finally struggling to grasp a sliver of consciousness.

His throat was parched, and every bone in his body ached. He struggled to open his heavy eyelids, and his vision was blurred for a while before he could finally focus.

The wall lamp was dimmed to its lowest setting, casting a soft, yellowish halo around the wall. The first thing that caught the eye was Tan Huaiyu's face, so close it was almost touching. He was leaning against the edge of the sofa, his head resting on his arm, his face turned towards Qi Shuo.

He seemed to be asleep, but his sleep was extremely restless. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his long eyelashes cast a small shadow under his eyes, where there were obvious dark circles. A few strands of soft hair on his forehead were slightly disheveled by sweat and unconscious rubbing, sticking to his smooth forehead.

One of his hands was still tightly holding Qi Shuo's hand, and he didn't let go even when he was asleep, as if it was some kind of instinctive connection that confirmed his sense of security.

Qi Shuo's gaze slowly moved downwards. Tan Huaiyu, dressed in thin pajamas, sat directly on the floor beside the sofa, without even a cushion. The floor, even with the heating on, was chilly in the dead of winter. He was only wearing his own coat, clearly having fallen asleep while watching over Qi Shuo.

This realization was like a small crack being pierced in the barren, frozen soil of Qi Shuo's heart, allowing a warm, bittersweet current to flow in.

Qi Shuo moved his hand that was being held, his fingertips curling slightly. This subtle movement immediately woke Tan Huaiyu, who was already a light sleeper.

Tan Huaiyu suddenly raised her head, her eyes not yet fully open, still filled with lingering sleepiness and deep worry. Her voice was hoarse and anxious, as if she had just woken up: "Qi Shuo? You're awake? How are you feeling? Are you still uncomfortable?"

As he asked, he subconsciously reached out to touch Qi Shuo's forehead. The temperature under his hand was still a little high, but it was no longer the terrifyingly hot heat it had been before. Tan Huaiyu visibly relaxed, his tense shoulders slumping slightly, but the concern in his eyes remained undiminished.

"Water..." Qi Shuo heard his own hoarse voice.

"Right away!" Tan Huaiyu immediately got up. His legs were a little numb from lying down for too long, and he staggered a bit, but he didn't care. He quickly walked to the table, poured some warm water, tested the temperature, and then carefully helped Qi Shuo up and handed the water glass to his lips.

Qi Shuo took small sips from his hand. The warm water slid over his dry, sore throat, bringing a comforting soothing sensation. He drank more than half a cup before gently shaking his head.

Tan Huaiyu put down the cup and touched his forehead again, still worried: "Shall we take his temperature again?"

"No need," Qi Shuo shook his head, his voice still low and hoarse, but clearer than before, "Much better."

Looking at the dark circles under Tan Huaiyu's eyes and her pale, tired face from worry, he felt a surge of bittersweet warmth in his heart. "You... haven't slept at all?"

“I’m fine,” Tan Huaiyu shook his head, avoiding the main point, his gaze falling on his sweat-soaked temples and collar. “You’ve sweated a lot, do you want to wipe yourself down and change your clothes? It’s uncomfortable to be wet, and you’re more likely to catch a cold.”

Qi Shuo did feel sticky and uncomfortable all over, and nodded.

Tan Huaiyu immediately went to the bathroom to fill a basin with warm water, and took a clean towel and his own clean T-shirt. He wrung out the towel, his movements a little clumsy but extremely careful, avoiding Qi Shuo's gaze, and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck.

The cool towel touched his skin, bringing a comfortable refreshment. Qi Shuo closed his eyes, letting him do as he pleased.

He could feel Tan Huaiyu's fingertips occasionally brushing against his skin, with a slight tremor and a cautious touch. He could also feel Tan Huaiyu's gaze fixed on him, filled with undisguised tenderness and focus.

After changing into dry clothes, Qi Shuo felt much better, but he was still very tired and weak. Tan Huaiyu helped him lie down again and carefully tucked him in.

"It's almost dawn, get some more sleep," Tan Huaiyu said softly, his voice especially gentle in the quiet of the pre-dawn hours. He didn't return to the cold floor, but instead dragged a chair over and sat down on the sofa, still keeping watch.

Qi Shuo looked at him, the dim light casting a hazy glow on his tired yet gentle profile.

After the high fever subsided, my body was extremely tired, and my consciousness was somewhat hazy, but my mind was unusually calm, even... a long-lost feeling of being enveloped in peace.

He suddenly reached out, not to shake Tan Huaiyu's hand, but to gently touch his slightly cool fingers resting on his knee.

Tan Huaiyu paused for a moment, then looked down at him.

Qi Shuo didn't speak, but gestured with his eyes to the other side of the sofa—there was still a little space there.

Tan Huaiyu's pupils dilated slightly, as if she didn't understand his meaning or couldn't believe it.

“Come up,” Qi Shuo’s voice was low, weak from illness, but with an undeniable air of authority, “The ground is cold.”

Tan Huaiyu's heart skipped a beat and then began to pound wildly. He looked at Qi Shuo's calm yet undeniably authoritative gaze, then at the sofa, which was hardly spacious for two adult men.

Hesitation, struggle, and finally, all reason crumbled before Qi Shuo's words, "The ground is cold," and his still sickly pale face.

He carefully lay down on the empty side of the sofa, trying not to touch Qi Shuo. The sofa was narrow, and almost half of his body was suspended in the air. He could only lie stiffly on his side, with his back to Qi Shuo, not daring to move at all, and even his breathing was extremely shallow.

However, the next second, an arm reached out from behind him, gently encircling his waist and pulling him slightly towards the side of the sofa. Immediately afterwards, a warm chest, carrying the faint scent of medicine after illness and the clean aroma of soap, pressed against his back.

Tan Huaiyu froze, his blood rushing to his head, his ears burning hot. He could clearly feel Qi Shuo's steady heartbeat through the thin fabric, smell his pleasant scent, and feel the arm, though weak, carrying a calm, protective strength.

"Go to sleep." Qi Shuo's voice sounded against the back of his neck, deep, hoarse, and with a reassuring weariness.

No more words, no inappropriate actions. Just an embrace born of the instinct for warmth and comfort in a moment of weakness after illness, a silent closeness sharing a small space.

But for Tan Huaiyu, that was enough.

It was enough to pull him from the cold floor into a warm and reassuring embrace, enough to dispel his fatigue and anxiety from keeping watch all night, and enough to make him believe that they could really get through this winter together.

He slowly and very carefully relaxed his stiff body, leaning back to nestle even closer into that warm embrace. Then, he closed his eyes, and unconsciously, a shallow, contented smile curved his lips.

Outside the window, the sky was gradually turning a pale white. The wind and snow had stopped sometime earlier.