Chapter 7
By five o'clock in the afternoon, Shang Mu had spent the entire afternoon in the dim room.
He remained sitting on the floor, his back against the edge of the bed, staring silently into the empty darkness. Hours passed, the coolness of the floor tiles spread throughout his body, and he shivered softly in the darkness.
After an unknown amount of time, he propped himself up and stood up, staggering to the window and drawing open the curtains. The sudden bright light stung his eyes, and tears fell from the corners of his eyes, which were then brushed away by his fingertips.
He took off his bloodstained clothes and pants, took out clean clothes from the suitcase and put them on. He went to the bathroom again, turned on the faucet, and rinsed the dried blood on his hands with cold water.
The rose thorns had left several deep puncture marks on his palms and fingertips, but he seemed to feel no pain, wiping away the dried blood expressionlessly. The scabs were washed away, but new blood gushed out, and he continued to rinse with cold water until the wounds turned white.
The doorbell rang.
Shang Mu ignored it and continued to rinse the wound carefully. The skin on his fingertips was already wrinkled.
When the doorbell rang a second time, he calmly and rationally thought it might be someone from the working group. Cliff had something on him, so they probably wouldn't dare to cause trouble in the short term.
The doorbell rang for the third time, and he turned off the tap and wiped the water droplets on his hands on the handkerchief. The rough towel brushed against the wound, causing a burning sting.
He didn't intend to open the door. He was very tired, exhausted and indifferent. He had no mood and no energy to communicate with anyone.
The doorbell continued to ring, and the person outside seemed very anxious and knocked on the door again.
Shang Mu lay down on the bed, covered his ears with a pillow, and waited impatiently for the person outside the door to leave.
But things don't always go as planned.
The knocks on the door seemed to be knocking on his head, and the shrill doorbell sounded endlessly in the room. Shang Mu couldn't bear it any longer and threw away the pillow. He strode over and suddenly opened the door: "Why do you keep knocking--"
He saw the person at the door and his voice stopped abruptly.
Standing at the door was Zhou Wangchuan. It must have been drizzling outside, and his hair was a little wet from the rain. Seeing Shang Mu standing there peacefully, the anxiety in Zhou Wangchuan's eyes faded a little. He took a deep breath and asked in a calm tone, "Why don't you open the door?"
Shang Mu came back to his senses from his shock and said subconsciously: "What are you doing here?"
As soon as these words came out, his emotions revived, and more words came out one after another: "Aren't you performing surgery? How can you care about my life or death?"
Shang Mu took a few breaths and continued without thinking, "Dr. Zhou cares about the world and helps the poor and needy. Why doesn't he take advantage of the two hours on the plane to perform two more operations? It's such a waste to waste time on the plane!"
Zhou Wangchuan frowned slowly, took a step forward, and slammed the door shut.
Shang Mu sneered and said, "What? Was I wrong? I'm leaving anyway, so your trip here is in vain." As he spoke, he was about to pick up the suitcase next to him.
Zhou Wangchuan reached out and held his waist.
"... Ugh!" Shang Mu suddenly felt like a popped balloon. With a snap, all the air in his body leaked out, leaving only a tingling sensation that spread from his waist to his entire body. He glared at Zhou Wangchuan in shock and anger.
Shang Mu's waist was pinned down, and he couldn't move at all. He could only be pushed backwards by Zhou Wangchuan. His calf hit the edge of the bed, and his shoulder was gently pushed. He felt dizzy and fell onto the soft bed.
Then, a hot kiss fell on his lips.
The moment their lips touched, something passed through, filling Shang Mu's empty flesh and bones. He was stunned at first, then let go of all resistance, closed his eyes and accepted this kiss with three parts pity, three parts anger, and four parts helplessness.
After the kiss ended, Zhou Wangchuan looked down at him and stroked his lips with his fingertips: "Go on."
Shang Mu was silent for a while, then said in a muffled voice: "I didn't eat, I'm hungry."
While waiting for the hotel to deliver the meal, Zhou Wangchuan swept up the broken porcelain pieces on the ground. The wilted roses were placed in a mineral water bottle and came back to life.
Shang Mu leaned against the headboard, watching him busying around. The ceiling above him emitted a dim, warm light, and he felt that none of this was real. In the afternoon, he sat in the dark, surrounded by dead silence, thinking about death, eternal life, and whipping. Now, he thought about food, drinks, and the mattress at home.
The bathroom door opened, and Zhou Wangchuan, having finished washing his hair, came out wiping it with a towel. His eyes fell on the open suitcase. Inside lay the heavy brass rose mask, and he paused.
Shang Mu noticed his gaze and said casually, "That's a filming prop."
Bullshit, Zhou Wangchuan thought. He's quite good at lying, without blushing or getting nervous.
Shang Mu added, "I designed it myself."
"Well, it's very beautiful." Zhou Wangchuan said.
The doorbell rang and the hotel waiter brought the meal, a small bottle of medical alcohol, a box of Band-Aids, and some cotton swabs.
Zhou Wangchuan sat down beside the bed and motioned for Shang Mu to stretch out his hand. He first used a cotton swab dipped in alcohol to carefully disinfect the wound, then applied a Band-Aid. There were so many wounds that he had four or five Band-Aids on one hand.
Zhou Wangchuan had already seen the blood on the rose thorns, but he didn't ask Shang Mu what had happened, nor did he ask about the broken porcelain pieces on the ground. Shang Mu seemed calm at the moment, but he knew that, like a ball of seemingly stable gas, it would explode with the slightest touch.
He simply said, "The food at the hotel isn't very good, so just make do with it for now. I'll make it for you when I get home tonight."
When leaving the hotel, there was still a drizzle in the sky. Shang Mu was impatient to shelter from the rain, so he walked to the front in three or two steps and crossed the sidewalk.
Zhou Wangchuan, holding an umbrella and carrying a suitcase, fell behind and waited for the next green light.
Shang Mu, who had already crossed the street, glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, slowed down his pace, and pretended to admire the toy cars in the street window.
"want to?"
"No." Shang Mu complained, "Can you please walk faster? What if we miss the plane?"
Zhou Wangchuan put away his umbrella and stepped lightly on his foot with an expressionless face.
Shang Mu looked at the other person in disbelief: "You stepped on my shoes?!"
He has always been a mysophobe, and he walked lightly and skillfully, even on the rain-soaked streets, not a drop of dirty water got on his shoes. But at this moment, a footprint appeared on his snow-white sneakers.
Zhou Wangchuan stepped on him again.
Shang Mu widened his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Zhou Wangchuan took out a tissue and half-knelt down to wipe his eyes clean.
"First, you hung up on me and turned off my phone so I couldn't get through to you. Second, you didn't eat on time and left yourself hungry." Zhou Wangchuan tossed the paper ball into the trash can on the side of the road. "Okay, I'm cool with it. Let's go."
Shang Mu: “…”
He looked at the raindrops dripping from the edge of the umbrella and asked, "Will you hold the umbrella for me, or will you get wet with me?"
Zhou Wangchuan looked at him. Amid the flow of people, they seemed to be still.
After six years together, both parties are too familiar with each other. Shang Mu is not asking about getting wet in the rain or holding an umbrella, he is asking——
You know my cheap, perverted and weird hobbies. Will you persuade me to be better, or will you accompany me in my depravity?
This issue has been discussed countless times, but there has never been a conclusion.
But Shang Mu looked at Zhou Wangchuan persistently, seeking an answer.
As the rain pattered down on him, Zhou Wangchuan said, "It depends on how heavy the rain is. It's okay if you don't want to hold an umbrella in this kind of rain."
Shang Mu looked away in disappointment.
Half an hour later, with a roar, the plane caught up with the setting sun.
Shang Mu finally asked, "Why did you come?"
Zhou Wangchuan tilted his head to look at him: "Why didn't I come? I promised you that I would do it. And when you asked just now, I had already promised you."
"Aren't you going to have surgery?"
"When you called, it was one in the afternoon, and your flight was at eight in the evening," Zhou Wangchuan said patiently. "The surgery will take an hour and twenty minutes, and it takes me two hours to fly to K City. Add in the time it takes to get to the airport and to your hotel, and I'll be able to pick you up."
Shang Mu was silent for a moment, then asked, "What if the operation takes more than an hour and twenty minutes? What if it takes six hours? What if the flight to City K is delayed?"
Zhou Wangchuan said: "None of that happened."
Shang Mu became annoyed again: "Answer me!" He was stubborn and persistent, his hands grabbing the corner of his clothes tightened nervously, stubbornly pursuing an answer.
"If the operation takes six hours," Zhou Wangchuan thought for a moment and said, "I will tell you the truth first. If you can accept that, I will change your flight ticket and rush over immediately after the operation."
"If you can't accept it, I will comfort you and console you first. As long as it doesn't affect the quality of the surgery, I will switch shifts with a doctor from the same department."
Zhou Wangchuan paused, held Shang Mu's hand, and whispered, "Things will change in a thousand ways, but we are a couple and can communicate. Communication can always solve problems and can cope with countless emergencies. Don't turn off your phone next time, understand?"
"Hmm." Shang Mu pulled his hand back and turned to look out the window. His heart felt like it was being gently touched by a snail's tentacles, sore and soft.
He snorted coldly, "Who would believe you? You're full of lies. You just met me during the winter break and you tricked me into going home to meet my parents."
Zhou Wangchuan: “…”
He helplessly explained for the umpteenth time: "I didn't lie to you."
On New Year's Eve that year, he was afraid that Shang Mu would be lonely celebrating the New Year alone, so he invited someone to go home with him. He was just talking about playing online games together later when he opened the door to the living room. The dark living room suddenly became bright, and the colorful strips in the room splashed all over the person at the door.
The parents of the naughty boy who had just sent a message that morning saying he would not be coming home for the New Year shouted with smiles on their faces: "Surprise——"
Zhou Wangchuan still remembers Shang Mu's look at that time - like the look of an innocent child who was abducted into a remote mountain area and told to harvest rice for the rest of his life.
When this was mentioned, Zhou Wangchuan couldn't help but sigh, "Baby, I really didn't lie to you. It was a complete blunder."
Shang Mu responded with his usual sneer: "You're kidding me."
The two talked for a while, and Zhou Wangchuan fell silent. Shang Mu turned around and saw that he had fallen asleep leaning against the back of the chair, with a hint of fatigue between his brows.
Shang Mu was stunned for a moment and gently held his hand.
Performing surgery requires intense concentration, and then rushing here non-stop, how could he not be exhausted? But he couldn't help it, he couldn't help but test and challenge again and again, repeatedly using unreasonableness to gain unconditional indulgence to prove his importance.
Once, twice, three times, ten times.
After how many times will the other party be completely exhausted?
He doesn't know.
Shang Mu looked out the window. In the stratosphere, clouds rolled in like a tide, gilded with the golden light of the setting sun. The tide poured into his eyes and then slowly flowed out.
What can I do to keep you?
I give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart;
I try to impress you with confusion, danger, and failure.
What can I do to keep you?
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