Chapter 119 The hot water slowly seeped up to my feet...
Hot water slowly rose to my ankles, and steam rose into the air.
She had been coughing incessantly, and as she leaned against the edge of the porcelain-white bathtub, her breathing became intermittent. The pain in her chest persisted, likely caused by the severe coughing.
I coughed for who knows how long, the fog blurred the window, and the sky outside was just beginning to brighten, the entire lake and the sky were dark blue.
Water droplets fell from her hair, slid down her neck, and carried away the salt from her body little by little.
She coughed softly a few times, a burning pain shooting through her lungs. The initial smugness she felt when she got sick had turned into fear.
Only when the steam filled the entire bathroom and she was completely enveloped in warm water did her lungs feel a little more comfortable.
Beyond the boundary between pain and shame, Shuihua seemed to feel her "self" more clearly through her body.
However, some desires and emotions, once they arise, are like tattoos that can never be completely erased. Even the most skillful tattoo removal techniques cannot completely remove existing tattoos.
She slowly closed her eyes, letting the wisp of white mist dissipate before her, gradually fading the morning light.
She longed for dawn to arrive quickly... and wanted to see him again.
*
Cheng Mingdu kept her secret as promised. When Dr. Wu came to check on Cheng Mingdu's condition in the morning, she did not notice that anyone else had been there.
After seeing Cheng Mingdu, he came down to take Ye Yuying's temperature and listen to her lung sounds, gave her a few instructions, and then left again.
After the doctor left, the room returned to silence.
After taking a shower, she developed a fever again, and it was quite severe.
Taking advantage of her illness, Ye Yuying threw off the covers and sat up straight. She glanced out the window, and after the doctor's car left, she went straight up to the third floor.
The journey was even somewhat difficult. She had a fever, and with each step she took, it felt as if a pot of porridge was sloshing around in her mind, making her dizzy and heavy.
Cheng Mingdu's room door was ajar. He lay flat on the bed with his eyes closed, seemingly even weaker than yesterday. A book lay open beside him, its pages already turned several times, indicating he hadn't been reading.
"Dr. Wu said you had a fever again today." She leaned against the doorframe and spoke softly, "Me too..."
The person on the bed, covered by a cup, had a cold and aloof profile softened by a sickly fragility.
His breathing was light, as if he were asleep, and he did not answer for a long time.
She entered the room with some apprehension, only feeling relieved after she could clearly hear his breathing.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, about an arm's length away. The air was filled with the smell of medicine and the heat from either myself or the other person.
It wasn't until much later that he regained some consciousness and managed to say in a strained voice, "I'm alright..."
How could it be "okay"...?
“Go to sleep,” she rarely had the chance to speak to him in this tone, “I’m right here.”
Even she felt that her tone was too mature.
Cheng Mingdu looked at her, the light in his eyes dimming inch by inch, and weariness returned.
He seemed to have really fallen asleep; his breathing gradually became even, and his expression was peaceful.
Ye Yuying stood by his side, her gaze fixed on his features, and she even felt that this kind of time was an absolute luxury in all these years.
She could look at him so openly, instead of only daring to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.
She couldn't help but think of that dream at sea, a dream she would never be able to continue.
They even wanted to actually verify how different the tactile sensations in their dreams were from those in reality.
This high fever really confused her, allowing her audacity to grow wildly in a despicable direction.
The moment she reached out her hand to him, her fingers curled in mid-air—her final hesitation.
She was about to brush a stray hair from his forehead when she stopped at the crucial moment. She glanced at him closely and could still see the faint scar on his lower lip.
The scar is exactly the same as the one in my dream, only it has healed.
I really want to verify this, what should I do...?
Will he find out? And what's the worst that could happen if he does...?
Her fingertips brushed against his temples, trembling slightly.
Just as she was hesitating, her body had already made the decision for her; she leaned in, his face almost touching hers.
At that moment, she could even hear his breathing deep in his chest, deep, steady, and with a very fine, grainy quality.
Her lips stopped just centimeters away from his, the air thickened by the heat.
It seems like she's about to faint if she doesn't make a decision soon...
In that instant, she almost forgot who she was, only remembering the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her chest.
She recalled the skillful movements in her dream and replicated them all.
Almost instinctively, she lightly touched his lips.
The sensation was as fleeting as a raindrop falling into a lake, yet her heart was thrown off balance.
Just as she was about to back away, Cheng Mingdu's eyelashes trembled.
He opened his eyes.
Those eyes were deep black, so clear they were almost blinding.
Ye Yuying froze on the spot, her breath almost stopping, and time seemed to stand still.
She didn't say anything, or even have time to explain, she just stood there stunned and backed away.
He didn't speak, but his eyes quietly gazed at her, without anger, only some surprise, and more so a deep, unsettling calm.
She hurriedly sat back down, but nearly fell to the ground due to dizziness. As she turned around, he reached out and grabbed her wrist just in time, though not with much force.
This time, she fell awkwardly onto the blanket in front of his chest, and when she looked up, she met his dark eyes.
He remained silent, his gaze slightly lowered. After a long while, he finally spoke softly, "What were you doing just now..."
"I..." For a moment, she had difficulty breathing, as if she could not answer the question even with all the wisdom she had in her life.
The voice wasn't loud, nor did it contain any reproach, yet it terrified her.
At this moment, the tension was so intense that it felt as if even the air itself was about to melt.
She herself didn't understand whether she had been delirious from the high fever.
She simply raised her head, her eyes timid, like a child who had done something wrong, and a fundamental one at that, something that even a single reprimand from Cheng Mingdu would be unbearable.
But recalling the events in her dream, she found herself completely unable to accept that life had ended before she even spoke, witnessing him nod and walk into marriage with someone else.
The next moment, she revealed an almost stubborn look in her eyes.
"...Just consider it me taking advantage of someone in their vulnerable state..."
Her voice was very soft, a whisper in his ear, and then she lowered her head again and kissed him more clearly and directly, her kiss mingling with his breath.
The tone contained both apology and a certain certainty, but more importantly, a frankness of being prepared to fight to the death.
The kiss was uneventful, just a touch that lasted a few seconds. She had originally intended to end it simply, but she couldn't resist gently biting his lips. However, he didn't bite her hard, which shows that a real kiss doesn't easily draw blood.
Finally, she slowly got up, stared blankly at the faint teeth marks on his lips for two seconds, and then practically ran out of the room.
Cheng Mingdu leaned against the pillow, his fingertips curling slightly on the blanket, the corners of his lips still retaining that almost unreal warmth.
He forced himself to close his eyes.
The moment the door closed, Ye Yuying leaned against it, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst from her chest.
She couldn't even explain what specific consequences she was afraid of, nor did she know why she had the courage to skip so many steps and get straight to the point.
All she knew was that, in that brief moment, she was almost overwhelmed by the indescribable emotions within her.
Her body was possessed by an evil spirit...
At this moment, her breathing became heavier and heavier, and everything before her eyes made her dizzy. She kept telling herself that she should at least hold on until she got downstairs, not faint, and at least not outside his room...
Before the thought could even fully form, the world went dark in an instant.
In the last second before she collapsed, she heard a slight scraping sound from inside the door, as if someone was getting up.
But the sound only lasted for a moment before being swallowed up by the boundless darkness.
*
When I woke up again, my body felt even heavier, and I couldn't move at all. Even the slightest movement caused me to have a headache.
Her consciousness hadn't fully returned, and the images from her dreams over the past few days were mixed together, making them quite chaotic.
Everything in dreams is always like this: blurry, magnified, and illogical.
Because certain areas of the brain are dormant, the self in dreams is often no longer under the control of reason.
Those impulses, those thoughts that should have been suppressed, will take advantage of the chaos in time and space to grow, absurd and unreasonable.
She wanted to capture this rare feeling of chaos and savor the kiss that felt so real...
She closed her eyes and thought to herself, trying to fall back asleep and close the gap between her dream and reality.
However, the next second, she suddenly realized—
The blanket on her body was not the one in her own room.
It had a thicker texture and a faint fragrance, a scent that didn't belong to her.
Her breath hitched.
Her consciousness seemed to be tugged by something, and she opened her eyes almost reflexively.
The indoor curtain rods were already drawn, creating a dim light conducive to sleep. The bedside lamp cast a faint glow on a face with well-defined features.
Cheng Mingdu sat on the single chair by the bed, looking down at her.
His brows still showed signs of illness, and he looked tired, yet he managed to stay conscious and keep his eyes on her.
She blinked a few times, wondering if she was still asleep and dreaming within a dream?
I've been having so many dreams lately, all sorts of things... I'm starting to lose track of reality.
Cheng Mingdu looked at her quietly, his gaze indifferent, yet she could not hide anything from him.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, teasing her: "Didn't you take advantage of her before? You fell ill as soon as you stepped out the door."
Ye Yuying was completely stunned, her face flushed, and she felt anxious and unsure where to look.
In an instant, only the sound of their breathing filled the air, and the rhythm of their chests rising and falling was astonishingly synchronized.
"I..." She wanted to explain something, but her mind wasn't quick enough, and she stammered for a long time without coming up with a convincing reason.
Finally, feeling there was no need to hide it anymore, she lowered her gaze and sincerely said, "I'm sorry..."
As soon as he finished speaking, the person in front of him suddenly tilted slightly to the side.
Cheng Mingdu leaned to the side, and the medicine bottle slipped from his knees to the ground with a very soft, crisp sound.
"Brother!" She rushed over almost instinctively and caught him.
He was utterly exhausted, breathing rapidly, his arms trembling slightly. He seemed to want to push her away, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times, his voice so low it was almost inaudible, muffled by a cough: "No..."
No... What do you mean no? Is this action no good? Or is it just her?
His hand still had some remaining strength as he pressed it against her wrist, trying to push her away, but the force was so light it was almost weightless.
She didn't care about anything else, she simply pulled his arm over her shoulder and used all her strength to drag him to the bed.
His body was burning hot; the heat almost engulfed her as soon as she got close.
“If you want to scold me,” she said through gritted teeth, supporting him as she whispered, “or you can kick me out, at least… wait until I’m better.”
Cheng Ming stared at her intently, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He was still breathing heavily, and his lips were pale.
“I can do it myself,” he said softly, but she interrupted him.
"no."
Her tone was almost commanding, something she had never done before.
The two fell silent almost simultaneously.
The lights were dim, and they were separated by a very short distance; the emotions they felt could not be deciphered no matter how eloquent the writing.
She gently pulled him back to the pillow, brought him his medicine, tucked him in, her fingers trembling slightly, her voice shaking as she asked, "Now, are you feeling a little more at ease?"
She understood his resistance; perhaps it stemmed from deeply ingrained traditional values that prevented him from indulging in this behavior that teetered on the edge of derailment for even a moment.
Cheng Mingdu closed his eyes briefly, his breathing becoming slightly heavier.
He said in a deep voice, "Do you know what you're doing right now?"
She remained silent for a long time, but her expression was exceptionally clear, like a crystal-clear pool, revealing every emotion in her heart. She mustered her courage and said, "I know, I've known for a long time, that if this day comes, I will either part ways with you, or..."
To stay together forever... But she couldn't bring herself to say it, because she felt the hope was slim. All along, this affection had been hidden deep inside, causing her immense pain. She either had to end the pain or cover it up with even greater pain...
She suddenly lowered her head: "Let's go back to the beginning, and let's all lose our memories."
Cheng Mingdu closed his eyes, his throat bobbing slightly. The moral dilemma he was facing was even more acute.
“Aying…” he called her name, his voice as soft as a sigh, “You are still young.”
"I'm not young anymore."
She interrupted him, her tone surprisingly calm.
"Although I am still young and ignorant, does understanding my own feelings have anything to do with age?"
"I can clearly understand my feelings and bear the consequences of this matter, isn't that enough?"
"You don't need to respond to me. I can take responsibility for my actions. I just want you to know that this is not a momentary impulse or an illusion. I really like you. I have tried to shift my attention to like other people, but I still can't do it. I can't imagine how painful it would be if it were someone else instead of you. I like you so much that even if you stop looking at me from now on, I can willingly bear it."
After a long while, he slowly raised his hand, pressed his temples, and said with a heavy heart, "Do you know how dangerous those words are?"
"I know that once I say those words, we... will probably never be able to go back." Her eyes were clear and bright.
At that moment, he didn't speak, breathing with extreme restraint. Each breath seemed to be a weighing of options and a deep thought.
Her face still looked sickly, and her hair was damp with sweat, sticking to her forehead, but the words she spoke did not change her rebellious and stubborn nature.
Her innate courage has not changed at all.
Ye Yuying turned off the light for him, plunging the room into a gentle darkness.
There's no going back, but she's never felt so relaxed before, a relaxation tinged with a broken sense of relief.
"You should go back to your room." He finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, yet extremely slow. "Tomorrow, perhaps you'll change your mind."
His tone was so gentle it was almost harmless, yet it made her heart sink little by little.
She smiled faintly, a smile that was somewhat dim.
*
The next morning, Dr. Wu came to examine her and found that her fever had not subsided overnight, and she was so weak that she slumped against the pillow, looking like a mummy nailed to the bed.
The IV needle pierced her skin and stuck in the back of her hand, the medication spreading into her body through the blue veins.
She didn't know if the medicine was too cold or if her body simply couldn't take it anymore; she was trembling uncontrollably, and the soul in her hand curled up in the blanket along with it.
She can endure a lot of pain; even when she was a child, she could endure fighting until her head was bleeding. But today, for some reason, tears still slid down her cheeks.
That pain wasn't just physical; it was a desolation that spread from the depths of my heart, a sense of emptiness that came from the realization that Cheng Mingdu might not exist for the rest of my life.
She didn't know what she was crying about specifically—whether it was pain, illness, or the lack of response after she said "I like you" last night.
She bit her lip hard, trying not to make a sound, but a soft sob still escaped her throat.
In that instant, she hated her own impulsiveness, hated herself for letting everything fall apart last night, and now she didn't even have a reason to look at him anymore.
She thought he wouldn't come down again.
After all, he is Cheng Mingdu, a man who is always rational, clear-headed, self-disciplined, and knows his boundaries.
But then footsteps came from the other end of the stairs.
She thought she was hallucinating.
Until those familiar footsteps appeared at the door and stopped.
"The doctor said your condition is quite serious."
His voice was not loud, carrying his usual tone and a restrained concern.
She lay curled up on the bed with her back to him, an IV drip in her hand, tears streaming down her face. She tried to wipe them away, but the more she wiped, the more tangled the tears became. The salt in her tears made her cheeks dry and cracked.
He walked to the bedside, stood there, and frowned slightly as he looked at the spot on the back of her hand where the needle was inserted.
After a slight sound, she noticed him sitting down beside her bed.
"How can I make you feel less sad..." He asked sincerely. No matter how cold Cheng Mingdu was, his kindness towards her over the years was genuine.
She tried to remain calm, but upon hearing those words, she completely lost her composure.
“Brother…” Her voice trembled violently. She turned around, her eyes bloodshot from crying, and she looked utterly haggard.
“I’m really upset,” she choked out, “I’ve never felt this bad before…”
She cried silently; only her shoulders trembled slightly.
"Brother, can you hug me?"
The voice was almost a plea, as if squeezed from the depths of the soul, carrying a sense of isolation, helplessness, and endless loneliness.
Her hand emerged from under the covers, pale as a skeleton, and trembled.
A girl who had just turned eighteen, with a bright future ahead of her, was still so stubborn, as stubborn as a moth drawn to a flame.
"I'm really in so much pain." Her voice trailed off. "Whether it's family, friendship, or love... it doesn't matter."
"I don't want to know their names, I just want... you to hug me, okay?"
Large tears streamed down her face, almost choking her.
“I can never get married,” she continued, with a forced smile. “If you think this is all abnormal, then I’ll just continue living with you as before, okay?”
"I look around, and in this world..." her voice was broken, "I only have you left..."
As soon as she spoke, her vision blurred, and she felt as if she were about to collapse.
The air was so quiet that only her sobs could be heard.
Cheng Mingdu stood there, motionless for a long time.
He looked at the girl on the bed; her eyes were still familiar to him—stubborn, vulnerable, and passionate. He knew what she was saying, and he knew what it meant.
She didn't use moral blackmail; she was incredibly clear-headed, even more so than her peers. This was one of the few times in her life that she proactively asked for help.
Finally, he stepped forward, bent down, and gently pulled her into his arms.
At that moment, her body trembled slightly like a startled bird, then quickly nestled into his arms.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
She buried her face in his arms, her tears soaking his clothes.
Cheng Mingdu lowered his eyes, his fingers slowly tightening, as if forcing himself to stay awake.
The world seemed so gentle, yet so cruel, at that moment.
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