Chapter 31: I Don't Know What to Start With
The afternoon sun was setting, casting the shadows of the wooden window frames of the safe house onto the concrete floor, square by square, like an unlocked cage. The air still carried the aroma of rice porridge cooked that morning, mixed with the pungent smell of iodine, a rare scent of peace in these days.
Hei Xiazi didn't lean against the sofa; instead, he sat on a low stool not far from Zhang Qiling, twirling an empty medicine bottle in his hand, his gaze never leaving the other man's hand. Zhang Qiling was squatting on the ground organizing his backpack, his Black Gold Ancient Sword resting beside his leg. The bandage on his right index finger had been replaced with a new one, but the faint red seepage around the edges was still visible—Hei Xiazi hadn't slept well last night, hearing Zhang Qiling washing his hands with water in the bathroom. The noise was very soft, but it had made his heart clench for half the night.
"Your hand isn't healed yet, so don't mess around with it." Black Bear finally spoke, putting the medicine bottle on the table, his voice carrying a hint of muffledness that he himself didn't realize.
Zhang Qiling paused, but without turning around, he simply stuffed the compressed biscuits in his hand into his bag more neatly: "It's nothing."
"Are you alright?" Hei Xiazi propped himself up on his knees, walked over, and squatted down beside Zhang Qiling. Before Zhang Qiling could react, he gently grasped his right hand. When his fingertips touched the band-aid, he could feel the warmth of the skin underneath and a slight bump—the trace of a scab forming on the wound. "Yesterday I saw you changing your dressing; your fingers were shaking, and you said you were alright?"
Zhang Qiling tried to pull his hand away, but Hei Xiazi gripped it tightly. The grip wasn't strong, but it was enough to prevent him from breaking free. He turned his head to look at Hei Xiazi, his eyes no longer cold as usual, but instead filled with a sense of helplessness, like a child caught red-handed: "It's already scabbed over."
"Even if it's scabbed over, you can't treat it like this." Black Bear didn't let up. Instead, he lowered his head and gently rubbed the edge of the band-aid with his fingertip. "My wound heals quickly, but that's not a reason for you to fill it with your own blood."
As soon as he said that, both of them fell silent. Sunlight fell on their clasped hands, making Hei Xiazi's knuckles stand out even more, and also illuminating the pale blue veins on Zhang Qiling's wrist. Zhang Qiling stared at the top of Hei Xiazi's head, where the tuft of hair that always sticks up swayed in the light. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he suddenly spoke: "Your injury can't be delayed."
"So you think you can just drag me with your hands?" Black Bear looked up, his eyes meeting Zhang Qiling's. The man's pupils reflected his own image, and there was a hint of unconcealed worry. "Zhang Qiling, I, Black Bear, have lived all these years and have never been so precious. But you, don't always think you're made of iron."
As he spoke, he gently lifted a corner of the bandage with his fingers, his movements so slow it was as if he were afraid of hurting him. The wound below was a little shallower than yesterday, but it was still glaringly red, clearly indicating it hadn't been properly cared for and he'd been using his hands frequently. Black Bear's brows furrowed even more, and his tone became a bit somber: "Are you still adding more to the medicine?"
Zhang Qiling remained silent, which was taken as tacit agreement.
Hei Xiazi suddenly got a little angry, not at anyone else, but at Zhang Qiling's stubbornness. He gripped Zhang Qiling's hand, applying a little pressure: "Do you think that's the only way to protect me? Or do you think I can't even withstand this little injury?"
Zhang Qiling's lips moved, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes. He reached out to touch Hei Xiazi's face, but stopped mid-air, finally landing gently on Hei Xiazi's wrist: "No." His voice was lower than usual, "You can't be hurt."
Those five words instantly extinguished Hei Xiazi's anger. Looking at the seriousness in Zhang Qiling's eyes, a seriousness he hadn't shown even when facing the rice dumplings and traps, he felt a pang of sadness and tenderness in his heart. He sighed, reapplied the band-aid, and even pressed the edges to make it stick better: "Fool, if I had known you would torture yourself like this, I would have preferred to be in pain."
Zhang Qiling didn't refute, but instead gripped Hei Xiazi's hand tightly. His palm was a little cold, but his grip was firm, as if confirming something. Hei Xiazi's heart skipped a beat. He was about to make a joke when he heard Wu Xie's footsteps at the door, accompanied by his boisterous voice: "Brother! Master Hei! Brother Xie said he'd cook some noodles tonight, do you want to add eggs? I just found two..."
Wu Xie pushed open the door and saw the two squatting on the ground holding hands. He suddenly stammered, almost dropping the egg in his hand: "Uh... am I too early?"
Zhang Qiling reacted as if burned, immediately letting go and standing up in such a flustered manner that he almost bumped into the backpack behind him. Hei Xiazi, however, didn't hide; he leaned against the cabinet, smiling, and even waved to Wu Xie.
Wu Xie blinked, glanced at Zhang Qiling's reddened earlobes, then at Hei Xiazi's smile, and suddenly understood. He chuckled twice: "Xiao Hua asked me to ask, did you hear any noise outside just now?"
These words instantly changed the atmosphere in the room. Zhang Qiling's eyes immediately turned cold. He quickly walked to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and looked out—in the alley downstairs, two men wearing ordinary jackets were pacing back and forth. They seemed to be holding cell phones, but their eyes were fixed on the direction of the safe house. Their movements were swift and agile, indicating that they were not ordinary passersby.
Black Bear also came closer, squinting at them for a while: "Did they come with us? People from the Queen Mother of the West's Palace?"
"Uncertain, but definitely not a friendly foe." Zhang Qiling's fingers had already touched the hilt of the Black Gold Ancient Sword. "Prepare to move."
At this moment, Xie Yuchen also walked in, holding a portable monitoring device in his hand, his face solemn: "These two people have been loitering around here for almost half an hour. They just spoke on the phone with another person, mentioning 'target' and 'medicine.' They might be after us."
Zhang Qiling didn't say much, and turned to start packing. He placed Hei Xiazi's medicine box on top, then folded several thick coats and stuffed them into Hei Xiazi's backpack—knowing that Hei Xiazi was afraid of the cold and always shivered even in autumn. Hei Xiazi watched his busy figure, then suddenly walked over and took the backpack from him: "I can do it myself, you take a break."
Zhang Qiling looked up at him, a hint of worry in his eyes. Hei Xiazi smiled and patted his shoulder: "Don't worry, my injury is almost healed. At the very least, I can lend you a hand. You've always protected me before, now it's my turn to protect you."
As he spoke, he deliberately moved closer to Zhang Qiling, their shoulders touching, and he could feel the warmth of the other man's body. Zhang Qiling didn't dodge, but his movements slowed down a bit, and the coldness in his eyes softened, replaced by a subtle gentleness.
Wu Xie and Xie Yuchen were tidying up other things nearby, not disturbing them. The sunlight gradually sank, and the two people in the alley were still lingering, danger slowly enveloping them like a net. But Hei Xiazi looked at Zhang Qiling beside him, and didn't panic—as long as this person was there, it seemed that even the most dangerous road could be traversed.
“Dumb,” Black Glasses suddenly leaned close to Zhang Qiling’s ear, his voice low and roguish, “After this is over, I’ll take you to get a bowl of hot soup noodles with two eggs to help you recover from this.”
Zhang Qiling paused, turned his head to look at him, a glint in his eyes, and softly hummed in agreement.
A breeze blew in from the alley, carrying a slight chill, but it couldn't dispel the warmth between the two. On this perilous afternoon, something warmer than the sun, stronger than a blade, quietly took root in their hearts, waiting to slowly sprout again when things were more peaceful.
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