I'll fucking make you reply to my message.
Song Zian patted his little belly and said with bright eyes, "Beef noodles? Why is there only one serving? Have you eaten yet, brother?"
"I've already eaten, you go ahead and eat. I'm a little tired, I'll go back to my room to rest first," Song Zicheng said, trying his best not to let Song Zian notice his emotions.
Upon hearing this, Song Zi'an frowned, seemingly a little saddened that he couldn't have dinner with his brother: "Alright, then brother, go and rest."
Song Zicheng nodded, got up and walked towards his room.
He didn't turn on the light, took off his clothes and went straight to the bed, lifted the blanket, and curled up into a ball.
Even though the room was warm and he was covered with such a thick blanket, Song Zicheng still felt very cold. His whole body, from head to toe, was icy cold.
He drifted off to sleep, the scene of his parents' car accident replaying in his mind.
"Dad...Mom..."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's all my fault, it's all my fault."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry"
...
In the quiet room, Song Zicheng's words could be heard intermittently in his sleep. He was sleeping very restlessly, his head kept shaking slightly, his eyelashes trembled, and he kept whispering the words "I'm sorry".
"Look at him quickly, what's wrong with him? He's burning up."
"I have a fever, but I brought medicine with me."
"So, did you get a refund?"
"No, I still have a slight fever."
"Why isn't he awake yet?"
While Song Zicheng was not fully conscious, he heard familiar voices from time to time. He wanted to open his eyes to see, but his eyelids were like heavy jacks, and he couldn't open them no matter what he did.
The winter sun lazily shone into the room through the curtains, warm and comfortable. The sunlight shone on Song Zicheng's face, half of it luminous and half shadowed, making his facial features even more defined.
Song Zicheng slowly opened his eyes. The sunlight was too bright, so he shielded his eyes with his hand. When he raised his arm, he felt weak all over and had no strength at all. His head was also throbbing and his throat was sore. Just as he was about to make a sound, a foreign sensation came over him, and he hissed in pain.
He lay on the bed for several seconds, and then he seemed to hear voices in the living room, and the sound of bowls and chopsticks being used for eating.
Before he could figure it out, the door was gently pushed open. Jiang Yuebai saw that he was awake and immediately went to the bedside, her face full of worry: "You're finally awake! Didn't you know you had a fever? It was almost 40 degrees Celsius. Zi'an didn't see you get up this morning and called me when he found out you had a fever. I rushed over early this morning and also asked Ling Chu to come over. Now you're finally awake."
Jiang Yuebai spoke urgently, and only after she finished did she breathe a sigh of relief: "Your throat is inflamed and you can't speak. Are you hungry? I cooked some porridge for you, I'll go and bring it to you."
Song Zicheng nodded.
"Brother, you're awake!" Upon hearing Jiang Yuebai say that he was awake, Song Zian immediately ran over, squatted down in front of Song Zicheng's bed, blinked his eyes and said, "Brother, you scared me to death."
Song Zicheng patted his head. Although he couldn't speak, he smiled, indicating that Song Zian shouldn't worry.
"Zi'an, your brother has just woken up and needs to rest. Why don't you go out and eat first?" Jiang Yuebai said, carrying a bowl of porridge.
"Oh," Song Zicheng said, watching Song Zian leave somewhat reluctantly.
Jiang Yuebai placed the porridge on the table and helped Song Zicheng sit up against the headboard: "Have some porridge."
Song Zicheng took a bite, looked up and then at Jiang Yuebai. "Ling Chu is back at the hospital," Jiang Yuebai said.
Song Zicheng nodded. Eating this bowl of porridge was quite an ordeal for him. Even with his head down, he could feel Jiang Yuebai's intense gaze fixed on him.
Suddenly, Song Zicheng's hand stopped, and he froze. He looked down at his clothes, a low-cut thermal undershirt.
Song Zicheng's breathing became more and more rapid, and he even lost the strength to hold the bowl. Just as the bowl was about to fall, Jiang Yuebai reached out and steadily caught it, placing the bowl back into Song Zicheng's hands.
What should I do? The hickey on my neck has been seen.
Song Zicheng bit his lower lip tightly, not even realizing he had finished the porridge, and kept scooping more porridge from the bowl with his spoon.
"I heard from Brother Li that you quit your job at the coffee shop?"
Song Zicheng's thoughts were pulled back by Jiang Yuebai's words. He did not answer immediately, but put the bowl on the bedside table and casually took a tissue to wipe his mouth.
"Yes," Song Zicheng replied, bowing his head.
Jiang Yuebai nodded, her hands clasped tightly where Song Zicheng couldn't see them. She had seen the marks on Song Zicheng's neck as soon as she arrived that morning, and she was stunned, her whole body trembling.
Although Song Zicheng had told her, openly and secretly, that he liked boys, and she knew that Song Zicheng had no feelings for her and treated her as a friend and family, she never gave up and always held onto a glimmer of hope. Even now, when reason told her not to ask, she still asked anyway.
"Why"?
Song Zicheng lowered his head even further. He didn't want to lie to Jiang Yuebai, but he didn't know how to bring it up. Moreover, the first requirement Lu Zhiyan gave him was that no one else should know about their relationship.
His lips were tightly pressed together, and his hands gripped the sheets tightly under the covers. This question truly put him in a dilemma, making it difficult for him to speak.
"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, then don't. Just pretend I didn't ask," Jiang Yuebai said, breaking the awkward silence. "Dr. Ling said your illness is serious and you should rest for a few days. I'll take care of Zi'an these next few days. You should rest well and I won't bother you anymore." With that, she stood up from her chair, picked up her bowl, and left.
With a click, the door closed. Song Zicheng took a deep breath. The headache came without warning. He pressed his temples and shook his head gently. He felt dizzy and didn't even have time to look at his phone on the bedside table before he drifted off to sleep again.
At this moment, Lu Zhiyan, who was sitting in the main seat at the front of the conference room, had a frighteningly sour face. The atmosphere around him had reached freezing point, and the employees sitting below did not dare to breathe loudly, for anyone who made a report would be severely criticized.
Lu Zhiyan held his phone, which displayed his chat history with Song Zicheng. Several messages Lu Zhiyan had sent were all sitting there alone. Although they were sent at different times, they all had the same thing: no reply.
Lu Zhiyan's face grew increasingly grim, and he tightened his grip on the phone as if he wanted to crush it. As soon as it ended, he immediately sent Cui Junyu to Beijing University.
"Damn it, Song Zicheng, who gave you the guts to not reply to my messages and then disappear the next day? I think you're just asking for trouble."
Back in his office, Lu Zhiyan couldn't hold back any longer and sent a voice message. His tone was urgent, and his voice was sinister and terrifying, sending chills down one's spine.
Lu Zhiyan slowly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the entire city from the top floor. No one had ever made him so angry.
Never.
"Mr. Lu, Mr. Song didn't go to school today. He's sick and asked for leave."
Cui Junyu's message came at just the right time, instantly calming Lu Zhiyan down from her anger. Lu Zhiyan asked with some concern, "Is he sick?"
"Yes, Mr. Lu, Mr. Song's brother's attending physician, Ling Chu, went to Mr. Song's house this morning to treat him."
Just moments ago there was some warmth, but as soon as Cui Junyu finished speaking, Lu Zhiyan's tone turned icy cold again: "I know."
After hanging up the phone, Lu Zhiyan's expression improved considerably, and he was no longer as angry as before. He looked up at a spot outside the window and muttered to himself, "Is he already sick? How come he's so fragile?"
Song Zicheng stayed in bed for two whole days. His cold was much better, but because of those two days of lying down, he had sore back and aches all over. Jiang Yuebai told him to rest some more, which scared Song Zicheng so much that he quickly waved his hand. If he lay down any longer, he was afraid that his body would have problems again.
For two whole days, he hadn't looked at his phone. At first, he couldn't look at it, but now it had run out of battery and shut down. Song Zicheng got out of bed, plugged in the charger, and the moment the phone turned on, a series of message notifications rang out one after another.
When Song Zicheng saw the full moon profile picture and L's WeChat name, his complexion, which had been improving, instantly turned deathly pale again, even worse than before.
His hands were trembling as he held his phone, his mind blank. When he finally clicked on the message and saw it clearly, he collapsed to the ground.
Go to your apartment to cook after class.
Where are they?
answer!
answer!
answer!
I told you to reply to my message, are you blind?!
Every word appeared clearly before Song Zicheng's eyes, like sharp knives stabbing into his heart. Song Zicheng yanked off the charger, grabbed a power bank, put on his down jacket, and went straight out.
"Zicheng, where are you going? Time to eat," Jiang Yuebai asked Song Zicheng, who was rushing out of the kitchen after bringing out the dishes.
"Something's happened," Song Zicheng said, his voice trembling.
"Sir, could you please drive faster? I have an urgent matter to attend to."
Song Zicheng was restless and terrified. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and think carefully about how to say something that would minimize his losses and prevent Lu Zhiyan from holding it against him.
He rang the doorbell several times in front of apartment 1101, but no one answered. He didn't know when Lu Zhiyan would return, and he didn't dare to send a message to ask. He could only stand anxiously outside the door and wait.
He rushed out, only wearing a down jacket. Although this was a high-end residential area with good wind protection, it was still very cold standing outside in such cold weather.
The cold air went straight into Song Zicheng's neck and then spread throughout his body. Song Zicheng had just recovered from his illness, and he didn't want to get sick again.
He zipped his jacket up all the way, put on his hat, and wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he walked back and forth in the stairwell, trying to keep warm.
Having waited for a long time, Song Zicheng was both hungry and cold. After standing for a while, he squatted down for a bit. When he got tired of squatting, he sat down on the ground with his head against the door and his eyes fixed on the elevator.
With a "ding," the elevator opened, and Song Zicheng quickly got up and walked forward, only to find that the person who came was not Lu Zhiyan. Disappointed yet relieved, he stopped and turned around to continue waiting.
As soon as Lu Zhiyan stepped out of the elevator after finishing his social engagements, he saw a person sitting at the door. The person was completely covered by a long black down jacket, but Lu Zhiyan recognized him at a glance as Song Zicheng.
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