Chapter 54
When Yuan Chuyu fell into a deep sleep, the fragments in his mind were intermittent.
The cold white lights, the piercing cries, the desperate screech of the four wheels rolling across the ground as the hospital bed was pushed forward at high speed, the curtains being pulled open and then closed again with a "whoosh," like a closing ceremony that had stalled.
He had almost forgotten the dull, empty feeling he had when he saw his mother's lifeless face at the age of six, a feeling as if the world was covered in white snow.
Many doctors in white coats hurried back and forth, their carts filled with all sorts of bottles and jars. The sharp silver needles squeezed out a drop or two of medicine, which was then injected into the body, like adding a handful of water to the ocean—a negligible act.
"Make way."
"Listen to me, go and stay over there."
"Don't stand here, you're blocking the way."
He backed away, from one white bed to another, until he could no longer see his mother's face.
The curtain was drawn again, and he leaned against the white wall in a daze, his palms and chest feeling empty. Only then did he realize that he had forgotten to take his mother's notebook of excerpts.
There was a crying baby in the emergency room. His mother was holding him in one arm, bending over, face to face, and carefully reading a story to him from a green fable book.
Yuan Chuyu was not envious. His mother would read various passages to him before bed. His mother would make the most beautiful notebook in the world, with retro stickers, semi-transparent colored tape, and lines drawn with various paper cutouts.
He felt he should go home and get the notebook from his bedside. His mother often looked melancholy and lost in thought, sitting alone on a folding chair on the balcony, gazing at the sky. But whenever he gave his mother the notebook, along with a book with a bookmark, she would lower her head, smile gently at him, and then immerse herself in the world of words, temporarily escaping those feelings of loneliness.
If she were to receive the notebook of excerpts, my mother, now lying lifeless in her hospital bed, might just smile gently as she always has, turning the page, and then the next.
“I want to go home,” he said, following behind everyone. “I don’t want to come to the hospital, I want to go home.”
Each time his hand grabbed the hem of his shirt, it was brushed away. Time and time again, he felt cold sweat breaking out in his palms. The lights, the white walls, and the people here were all the same white, so white that it made him feel like he was in an ice cellar.
Yuan Chuyu's hand trembled slightly. His brain seemed to suddenly lose weight. After a brief dizziness, he barely opened his eyes. What he saw was the cold, glaring light shining directly into his eyes. He subconsciously closed his eyes again, frowned, and the pungent smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils.
My left hand was so cold I couldn't feel anything, except...
He suddenly paused, opened his eyes again, and turned to the side, seeing Lin Langyi sitting next to him, looking down at her phone. Her right hand was on his wrist, her palm warm, pressing against his cold, numb skin, her index finger repeatedly tracing down the vein where his IV drip was inserted.
He subconsciously moved his wrist, his hand, cold from the injection, felt like a broken, unresponsive machine. He barely touched her palm before the person beside him immediately turned her face away.
Lin Langyi opened her eyes wide in surprise: "You're awake?"
"I..." He started to speak, but then realized his hoarse and unpleasant voice immediately stopped.
"Water." She handed it to me directly. "It's warm."
He silently said "thank you," took the drink, and sipped it slowly.
Lin Langyi handed him another cup. Seeing him shake his head, she naturally held it with her right hand for a while, and then placed her warm palm back on his cold wrist.
His eyelashes trembled a few times as he stared intently at her.
As Lin Langyi put the cup back, she asked, "Does it hurt? The doctor said it would hurt a bit when the medicine was injected, so he's covering your wrist because the tube can't be warmed up and the medicine has to be cold."
She turned her head to observe his complexion: "Your forehead is burning hot, and your left hand looks like a block of ice."
He gazed at her intently, saying nothing, only tilting his head slightly toward her. As he leaned against her, he noticed a sky-blue U-shaped pillow around his neck, from which he could faintly smell the sweet scent of shampoo.
He lowered his head, buried himself in the pillow, and whispered in a hoarse voice, "Cold, painful."
"It'll be soon," Lin Langyi reassured her. "This is the last bottle of medicine. Once it's finished, we can go home."
He remained motionless, buried in the pillow, his cold, stiff little finger trembling slightly upwards, silently hooking her index finger.
Lin Langyi glanced at his little actions, showing great tolerance for the patient, and asked with a hint of reproach, "Since you're so sick today, why did you still come to deliver the contract?"
He whispered, "Because I received your call, and you need me."
Lin Langyi hardened her heart and said in a harsh tone, "I don't need you, I just need Yingyuan's contract. It doesn't matter who delivers it."
His eyelashes drooped, casting a thin shadow under his eyes: "My coming is different from others."
She fell silent. She was well aware of these intricacies, and he had always been well aware of these "unspoken rules."
She said, "You don't have to go to this extent."
"Yes." He coughed a few times, his rough voice having a gritty quality, "I have no other excuse to see you except for business."
"It was my own idea to come."
Because of this sentence, Lin Langyi took him home.
She left the keys in the office and didn't even drive the car to the company entrance. Instead, she started the engine, parked it in the parking lot, and turned on the air conditioning at a low setting so that he would wait, afraid that Meng Hui would see it and ask more questions.
She avoided people and went back to her office alone. She used her key to open the locked drawer, took out the file bag, emptied it, and five keys from a keychain fell out at once.
She paused for a moment, then took out two of them and put the rest back into the drawer.
Back in her car, she even broke out in a sweat because she had walked the extra distance from the parking lot to the company.
"Tissues." He still had to speak, pulling out two tissues and handing them to her.
Lin Langyi grabbed her and looked in the rearview mirror. Her face was flushed from running, and she looked full of energy. She didn't look like she had lost her mind at all.
She did it secretly because she knew it shouldn't be done.
It was all because he had just said that he could just leave it on the side of the road and that he could take a taxi home. He was alone at home anyway, and he was no longer dizzy and could take care of himself. He rambled on and on in a hoarse voice, and then, after pulling out the needle, he staggered behind her, forgetting to take his medicine.
There is absolutely no indication that they can "take care of themselves".
Lin Langyi closed her eyes briefly, tossed one of the keys she was holding to him, and then, without even looking at him, wiped her sweat in front of the mirror.
The key slid off his lap and onto the passenger side floor mat with a dull thud.
His movements were very slow. He paused for a few seconds, a beat late in the moment, before finally loosening his seatbelt with one hand and obediently bending down to pick up the key from the floor mat.
The key he was given was attached to a plush kitten. He picked it up, rubbed the kitten's tail with his fingers, and wiped away the dust.
"Go and recuperate in that house." Lin Langyi started the car. "If someone falls into the water here and burns to death tonight, no one will know, and I'll be held responsible."
He leaned back in his chair, turned his head to look at her, and casually stroked the fluffy cat's tail, giving a soft reply.
After a short while, the hand stopped moving. Lin Langyi drove to a traffic light and stopped, turning her head to look at him.
He leaned quietly against the back of the chair, his eyelids heavy and his breathing even and rhythmic. Sunlight from the side window fell on his cheeks, outlining his features with a halo of light, but his lips remained bloodless in the sunlight, like a handsome portrait in a picture frame, both real and unreal.
She turned around, eased off the accelerator, and drove smoothly all the way to Dingpu Community.
When Yuan Chuyu bought the house, he also bought two parking spaces. Lin Langyi drove past the parking space she had been using for the past few days, turned around, and parked in the row behind, separated by a wall. She was still a little dazed when she turned off the engine.
Houses are relative, parking spaces are separated by a wall—what a chaotic and bizarre reality!
"Hmm..." He was a light sleeper. He opened his eyes groggily when he heard the sound of the seatbelt being unbuckled. When he saw her, he closed his eyes again, then opened them again after a short while, his voice hoarse from just waking up, "Are we home yet?"
Lin Langyi hummed in agreement, opened the door and got out of the car: "We're here. Take your medicine."
He followed behind her, and the two of them took the elevator directly from the underground parking lot to the upper floors. The completely transparent observation elevator went up floor by floor. Lin Langyi turned around and looked down at her "new house" 1602 from a completely opposite angle.
A complex mix of emotions that are hard to describe...
With a "ding," the door behind her opened, and Yuan Chuyu reached out and tugged at her arm. His palm was still burning hot, which immediately brought her back to her senses.
He looked at her and said, "We've arrived."
The two stepped out of the elevator. The layout of the 17th floor was no different from that of the 16th floor, and even the door number was 2.
Lin Langyi felt as if she had truly entered some kind of magical realism scene.
He was waiting for her to open the door.
She pursed her lips, took half a step forward, turned the key in the lock, and opened the door by turning the doorknob with her other hand.
She went inside first, without turning her head: "Next time, change to a combination lock and throw away the key."
Even though all the furniture was there, the room still felt very empty, clearly indicating that a professional cleaning service had been called in for a thorough cleaning. Because no one lived there, the lack of signs of life made the whole house seem even more desolate and clean.
Yuan Chuyu followed behind her: "I've bought all the furniture. If you don't like anything, we can exchange it. If anything is missing, we can replace it."
She had heard the same words twice already. Lin Langyi pressed her slightly twitching eyelids, thinking that it was fortunate that Yuan Chuyu and Cheng Yanjin had different aesthetic tastes. If they had the exact same house, she would have gone crazy.
Walking into the bedroom, she pointed to the bed where the plastic film had not yet been removed: "Go lie down."
Yuan Chuyu didn't go to the master bedroom. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, his long legs slightly crossed. He gently hooked two fingers around his collar and hesitated, saying, "Your brother's clothes."
"Your clothes are at the dry cleaners." Lin Langyi walked in and completely closed the curtains, then turned her head. "Don't worry about my brother's clothes."
He looked down and sent a few messages on his phone: "I'll have my assistant bring me some daily necessities."
Lin Langyi didn't speak, which was taken as tacit consent. She walked to the small balcony outside the living room and stood in the spot where he had been that night, looking towards 1602.
Less than half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Lin Langyi still kept her elbows on the railing and didn't move. She heard Yuan Chuyu coughing from time to time behind her as he brought in the necessary items and put them away.
She listened to him moving back and forth busily, the sound of the water churning in the electric kettle growing louder and louder, like some kind of suppressed bubble that would eventually rise to the surface and burst.
"I'm all set here. Are you still busy?" Yuan Chuyu approached from behind, holding a cup in his hand. "Would you like some water?"
Lin Langyi straightened up, turned around and took the cup from his hand. The water was at a suitable temperature. She took a few sips and went back into the house.
In the blink of an eye, the house was filled with many more things, as if a little fairy had blew a breath into a pocket, and instantly everything was there, transforming the austere room into something quite presentable.
She went to the guest room and saw that he had laid out dark gray silk sheets, with two men's loungewear pieces draped over the right side of the bed.
She turned her head and caught a glimpse of him wearing a pair of charcoal gray slippers. If her eyesight was not bad, there was also a pair of the same style of unopened pink slippers in the entryway.
"Go ahead and do what you need to do." He had just tidied up his things, and now he looked tired and listless. "I'm sorry for disturbing your work."
Lin Langyi stared at his pale, bluish-black eyes, then looked away: "I've been busy preparing materials for today's inspection by my superiors, so now that the reception is over, there's nothing urgent."
He suddenly raised the corner of his eye visibly, and his lips, which had been dry just moments before, became briefly moistened with a glossy sheen after drinking a glass of water. Paired with his pale, delicate yet flawlessly beautiful face, he possessed a captivating charm, like a glimpse of a peach blossom through a sliver of light. It was as if a once unattainable white rose had suddenly been battered by rain, and could be easily reached by tiptoeing.
He had a unique charm when he was ill.
Before Yuan Chuyu could even be happy for two seconds, Lin Langyi had already walked straight towards the entrance.
He paused, then subconsciously followed him out, speaking slightly quickly but weakly: "It's hot outside, and if there's anything else you need, we can provide it online—"
"I'm going to get my computer from across the street." Lin Langyi placed her hand on the doorknob, turned to look at him, and said, "You go to sleep first."
He spoke these words in one breath, but when he heard her reply, he relaxed as if all his strength had been exhausted. He coughed several times in a row, and even the corners of his eyes turned a faint pink.
As he pressed the back of his hand to his lips, he didn't forget to nod politely to indicate that he understood.
Lin Langyi returned to 1602 via the underground parking lot. This route didn't even require going above ground, and she wouldn't see the sun.
When she got home, the door clicked shut behind her. Leaning against the door, she suddenly took a deep breath.
After a few seconds of silence, she didn't take the things and go back as she had said. Instead, she sat down at her desk in the study and turned on her computer to work from home.
Her phone would occasionally beep with a message notification, and she would reply to all the work-related messages until dusk fell and the room lights needed to be turned on. Only then did she remember that there was a patient waiting for her across the hall.
He didn't send a single message or make a single phone call all afternoon. He was so obedient and sensible, like one of those unloved children who knew how to be well-behaved and avoid causing trouble the more they were ignored.
The company has hired new live streamers. After Lin Langyi trains them, she won't need to do live streams anymore. She had originally planned to train them to appear on camera tonight, but after hesitating for a moment, she still informed herself in the group that she wouldn't be doing a live stream tonight.
Everyone in the group chat was overjoyed to have been given a day off by their boss. Lin Langyi turned off her phone, pulled out a large woven straw bag, abandoned the bizarre scenario in her mind of "I'll steal my husband's money to support you," and began rummaging through the refrigerator.
She can't cook, and her refrigerator is full of semi-finished or instant food, even the porridge is a ready-made package.
Lin Langyi took all the scraps with satisfaction, claiming it was a nutritious combination of meat and vegetables, and left with her bag.
Just as she reached the elevator, her neighbor, the white-collar worker Sister Dai, came back to greet her with a smile when she saw Lin Langyi carrying a large bag: "Xiaoyi, are you going out again?"
"Hmm." Lin Langyi smiled. "Something came up."
Sister Dai knew about her job and sighed, "It's so hard. You have to go to the company after you get back. I didn't see your car when I parked, so I thought you hadn't come back yet."
Lin Langyi paused for half a second before pressing the button to turn on the basement level, and said with a smile, "Yeah, the car didn't come back."
The elevator doors closed, and her calm face was reflected in the charcoal stainless steel. Lin Langyi walked through the underground parking lot without pausing and returned to her other home.
The key had barely been inserted into the lock when someone inside flung open the door. Her hand was still on the doorknob, and warm, inviting light from inside spilled out through the crack in the open door.
Yuan Chuyu changed into his home clothes, with a pure black apron tied around his neck. He had a blue fever-reducing patch on his forehead, and his hair at the hairline was slightly messy.
The key was still in the lock, jingling and rattling.
The apron accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, making his figure appear even more sleek. Lin Langyi's gaze lingered on his waist for a moment, and before she could react, he had already reached out and pulled her inside.
"Dinner will be ready soon."
"ah?"
Lin Langyi was inexplicably changed into slippers and led to the dining table. She stared at the steaming home-cooked food and was speechless.
There's a double-eared earthenware pot simmering soup in the kitchen, and the air is filled with the aroma of food. Those household items that were still in their packaging in the afternoon have now become a sparse part of the daily life in this small town with its bridges, streams, and houses.
He calmly and naturally took the large bag from her shoulder, as if he had been doing this for a long time. When he put the bag down, he touched the bottom of it with his hand and asked in confusion, "Is it cold?"
Lin Langyi said dryly, "Yeah, I dug it out of the freezer. I was planning to cook you some instant porridge."
He suddenly looked at her intently, his eyes glistening with tears, his beautiful eyes seeming to hold a jar of peach blossom wine.
"I thought you'd just order takeout." He tried to remain calm, but couldn't suppress the corners of his mouth, and said with a dignified expression, "I should have made less."
Lin Langyi saw his barely suppressed smile and wondered if he was touched by her cooking.
But she doesn't order takeout because she always does it herself, and she doesn't want the delivery person to realize that she's the one who opens the door to this building, and then she's the one who opens the door to that building.
She watched as he took out all the scattered frozen items from his bag, examined each one carefully, and then put them all in the freezer.
Lin Langyi sat at the dining table, paused for two seconds, and said expressionlessly, "How long did it take you to make these dishes?"
He turned down the heat, and upon hearing this, he smiled at her, his voice still slightly nasal: "Soon, the vegetables will be delivered to your door."
Lin Langyi shifted her gaze downwards, settling on the still-running dishwasher, which was washing and disinfecting pots and pans in batches. She then asked, "So, to be frank, did you take a nap this afternoon?"
This time he learned his lesson and didn't answer. He lifted the lid of the casserole, stirred it with a ladle, and pretended not to hear.
Lin Langyi walked directly behind him, her fingers slipped through the knotted apron, lifted his pajamas, and swiftly slid inside to press against his lower back.
His spine groove forms a beautiful arc, just the right size to fit a finger, making one want to trace the groove from his neck to his tailbone, to see if he would breathe softly.
He trembled slightly, but didn't move.
The palms were burning hot, and the heat hadn't gone down at all.
This guy is really fearless.
Lin Lang coldly withdrew her hand, facing the man holding the soup spoon, and said stiffly, "If this house becomes a haunted house, its value will immediately drop by 80%. What are you doing eating if you're just lying here comfortably?"
He lowered his eyes: "You said you would come back, so I just wanted to have a meal together."
"Did I contact you? You knew I'd come to dinner? You deserve to be stood up. I'll stand you up a few more times and you'll learn your lesson."
He listened meekly to her lecture, not daring to utter a single word in reply.
Lin Langyi snatched the soup spoon from his hand, turned down the heat, and pulled his burning arm toward the dining table: "When can't you eat? Do you have to work while sick?"
She shoved him into a chair, looked up and saw that the pan-fried cod was sprinkled with chili powder, and continued to taunt him: "Can you eat spicy food? Huh? You're coughing like this and you're making spicy food?"
He grabbed her hand in return, his body weak, and pulled her towards him with a sickly fragility: "I have a cough, and I shouldn't eat seafood normally, but I made this for you because you like spicy food."
More than that, strictly speaking, there wasn't much on this table of food that he could eat.
“You’ve been eating takeout all the time lately when you’re livestreaming at night, which isn’t very healthy. I’ll cook for you from now on.”
"I honed my cooking skills while studying abroad." His breath was hot, but his eyes seemed to be shrouded in a layer of misty moisture, shimmering like stars under the lamplight. "Back then, I cooked every day, but it was hard to buy groceries. Later, after buying more and more, I developed a whole set of strategies, such as buying eggs at Sainsbury's, beef at Marks & Spencer, cabbage at Tesco, and seasonings at the Chinese supermarket... I became more and more skilled at cooking, but I don't know if it will suit your taste."
Lin Langyi stood in front of him, her legs wedged between his, looking down at the man who was speaking to her in a hoarse voice with his face upturned.
As night fell, thousands of lights shone outside the window. His lips, flushed red from the fever, opened and closed as he spoke, appearing even more swollen than usual, as if they were filled with moisture and would drip water if pinched.
She thought it and she did it. She reached out and pinched his chin, lifting it up. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and he stopped talking, only tilting his face up with her force, making his Adam's apple on his neck even more prominent.
Her thumb traced his skin upwards, finally resting on his full, red lower lip. She rubbed it from side to side before stopping in the middle and pressing it in.
His Adam's apple bobbed again, he lowered his eyes, and gently nibbled on her fingertip, very lightly.
"Would you like to eat first?" he asked, repeating a lie he didn't mean. "I wore a mask while cooking, so I won't spread it—"
She suddenly moved closer to him, bent one leg and pressed it against his thigh, her nose touching his. The two were only a tiny, almost imperceptible distance apart, as if they were trying to solve a long-standing problem, wavering and uncertain.
He stopped abruptly, yet didn't back down an inch, as if he already knew and had been inviting her to do so.
Lin Langyi's gaze lingered on his face without any attempt to conceal it.
His face was so beautiful that his slight haggardness during his illness did not diminish his handsomeness; on the contrary, it gave him an alluring quality, like a white rose falling into the mud and bleeding from its heart.
Jade-like texture and golden appearance, a drunken jade-like crumbling mountain.
It was as if he were truly a harmless, obedient, and humiliating character; as if she could easily control him and then leave without any concern for the consequences, attributing it all to a moment of infatuation.
He was luring her into a trap, acting subserviently when she was at her most haggard and frail, pretending that nothing would change after today, so she didn't need to worry.
This is a scammer.
He's not someone you can easily manipulate, not from the very beginning.
Being entangled with him is unlike being with other people; you can't just pick him up and throw him away at any time.
At Laoshan Temple, she could use her drunkenness as an excuse to blame him for everything, but today is different. Today she is sober and rational. Once she takes this step, there is really no turning back.
Lin Langyi knew perfectly well what was going on, but she still put her other leg up as well. As the fabric rubbed against each other, she adjusted her sitting posture forward, sitting completely against him on his lap.
She could only assume that she had been bewitched.
His arm moved up to her without her noticing, like a creeping vine climbing up and wrapping around her.
Listening to his slightly heavy breathing, she said softly, "Afraid of getting infected? If you're really afraid of infecting me, then don't open the door for me today... You take your medicine here, and I'll eat my meal across the street. We're so far apart, there's no way I'll get infected."
He remained silent.
Lin Langyi stared into his eyes, as if she had returned to that rainy day in Laoshan, or as if another branch of a banyan tree had forked out, pushing the ending of the story toward another possibility.
She untied his apron, slipped her fingers under his shirt, and touched his firm, well-defined abdomen.
His unbuttoned loungewear hung loosely to one side, revealing half of his smooth, straight collarbone. It was astonishing that such a restrained and disciplined person would one day loosen the top button, leaving the garment half-covering and half-covering.
He had ill intentions from the very beginning.
Lin Langyi touched something familiar on his waist. She had seen it on drawings, taken photos under the spotlight of the competition, and introduced it in the live broadcast, but she never expected it to appear on him at this moment.
Her burning body heat warmed the pearl necklace, and she scratched it with her fingernail, pearl by pearl, asking, "You can actually wear this?"
He wrapped one arm around her, and with the other hand, he stroked her arm, finally slipping his hand under her clothes to grab hers, holding it tightly and pressing it firmly against the beads. He explained softly, "I strung these myself... Do you want to see them?"
This time, it was her turn to remain silent.
She removed her fingers from his lips, and he lowered his eyes and tilted his head to instinctively try to kiss her fingers, but he couldn't reach them.
Seeing that she was unwilling to touch him anymore, he raised his eyelids and looked at her with a thousand glances. He then took her hand, which was covering the back of her hand, and pulled her straight up, lifting up her silk loungewear as well.
He gazed at her tenderly, their hands, still wet from being draped by the hems of their clothes, brushing against his cheek. He closed his eyes and kissed her palm through the thin fabric.
She looked up, and with the index finger of her other hand, she inserted it between the waist chain and her skin, hooking the chain and pulling him towards her, the two of them pressed tightly together.
She asked, "Didn't you tell me to eat?"
"Hmm," he asked, "So, what would you like to eat?"
She curled her finger and pressed it against his lips: "What else can we eat? It's all on the table, what else can we eat?"
He gently held her knuckles in his mouth, gazing at her without speaking.
Lin Langyi felt agitated by his gaze, as if his elevated body temperature was melting her as well. She scolded him in a low voice, "You're delirious with fever. Aren't you afraid of actually dying in bed?"
"I'm burning up." He relaxed his brows and eyes, seemingly unconcerned. He leaned back slightly, causing the fabric of his clothes, which had been tucked between his cheeks and palms, to fall smoothly down, concealing both of their hands inside.
He leaned back, a seductive crease appearing at the corner of his eye, and said, "That's why I'm burning up all over right now."
"It's hot everywhere."
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