As soon as those words were spoken, Shen Heng noticeably froze for a moment. Zhai Yao himself was taken aback as well.
Bloody hell, could it be that he had really burnt out his brain to the point of idiocy!
Shen Heng’s Adam’s apple twitched, and after a lengthy silence, he finally spoke, “I thought you found me annoying.”
Zhai Yao: “?”
Found him annoying?
That’s a no-brainer!
But why should he be the one who got deleted?!
Perhaps because Zhai Yao’s expression was really sickly, with eyes reddened from high fever and glistened with a hint of teary radiance, Shen Heng softened his tone. He reached out his hand towards Zhai Yao. “Let’s go; I’ll take you to the hospital.”
…
*
Zhai Yao was forcibly taken to the hospital by Shen Heng, and during the taxi ride, the former even attempted a couple of moves against his “captor.” But as it turned out, in his battered state, he was indeed no match for Shen Heng’s prowess.
Shen Heng effortlessly subdued both of Zhai Yao’s wrists with just one hand.
“Don’t make a fuss.”
Upon arrival at the hospital, Zhai Yao’s body temperature had skyrocketed to nearly 40°C. The doctor swiftly initiated treatment, administering an IV fluid drip to alleviate his condition.
The outpatient area was quite crowded, with most people there due to colds caused by the whims of unpredictable weather.
Prior to this incident, Zhai Yao rarely visited the hospital for his own illnesses. He considered himself to have a decent constitution; a good night’s sleep while enduring a mild headache and fever usually sufficed.
But the root cause of his infrequent visits ran deeper. It was an intense annoyance he had towards the pervasive disinfectant scent that permeated the entire hospital.
The needle pierced his skin, but despite multiple attempts, there was still no hint of blood.
A young nurse, who had only recently started interning at the hospital, found beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “This won’t do; your veins are too thin. I’ll call the head nurse.”
Zhai Yao’s expression remained calm. “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.”
The young nurse gratefully smiled at Zhai Yao, thinking to herself that this young man was truly amiable. Not only was he handsome, but he also had a gentle temperament. When she first saw him, she had half-expected him to be intimidating.
Following numerous unsuccessful attempts, the needle eventually located Zhai Yao’s elusive vein.
The young nurse sighed in relief and loosened the latex tourniquet encircling Zhai Yao’s wrist. “This medication might be a bit stimulating; if it feels painful, let the drip go in more slowly.”
Zhai Yao conveyed his gratitude. Once the young nurse left, he took out his phone and said to Shen Heng with his gaze remaining fixed downwards, “How much is it? I’ll transfer the money.” As he spoke, he remembered that he had been deleted by the other party.
“No need, it’s my fault to begin with,” Shen Heng said, glancing at Zhai Yao’s phone screen. After a momentary pause, he continued, “I just sent another friend request…”
“Not accepting.”
A brief silence ensued before Shen Heng eventually uttered, “Alright.”
Zhai Yao ignored him, and surprisingly felt a bit of great satisfaction in his heart. He powered down his phone, slipping it into his pocket, and closed his eyes with the intention of catching a nap.
At first, a medley of sounds flooded his ears, but gradually, these noises morphed into a hazy distance. In a daze, Zhai Yao felt a warm towel placed beneath his arm where the IV was situated, followed by a hand resting on his forehead.
Zhai Yao knew it was Shen Heng. He wanted to tell him not to touch him, but he couldn’t manage to open his eyes.
The comforting warmth of the towel alleviated the irritation caused by the liquid coursing through his vein. Zhai Yao felt a lightness enveloping his entire body, eventually succumbing to a peaceful slumber.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
When he woke up again, the clock had already struck noon.
Beyond the glass window, the sky remained shrouded in dark clouds, threatening another imminent rainfall.
The discomfort in his body had significantly decreased; his fever had probably gone down.
The person beside him was looking down at the phone. Upon noticing Zhai Yao was awake, he said, “Don’t sleep anymore; the IV drip is almost done.”
Zhai Yao didn’t say anything and also took out his phone to play “Jump,” but he kept failing due to being unaccustomed of using his left hand.
As the controlled character landed on the ground once more, signalling game over, Zhai Yao voiced out in an icy tone, “With your grandpa in that state, are you really comfortable leaving him alone at home?”
Shen Heng snapped to attention, realizing Zhai Yao was talking to him. He diverted his gaze from the phone and explained, “I hired a senior caregiver. She took leave for some family matters recently, but she came back last night.”
Zhai Yao merely replied with an “Oh” and continued to pay him no heed afterwards.
Shen Heng glanced up and saw that the IV drip had finished. He removed the towel from beneath Zhai Yao’s arm and went to peel off the plaster tape.
Zhai Yao’s hand trembled, instinctively wanting to pull away.
Shen Heng: “I’ll pull it out for you. I used to remove the needle for Shen Ziyao when he was on IV.”
Zhai Yao scrutinized Shen Heng for a moment with half-believing and half-doubting eyes before hesitantly putting his hand back.
Shen Heng crouched before him, gently pressed down on the plaster tape, and swiftly withdrew the needle.
It didn’t hurt at all.
The two of them left the hospital, and sure enough, rain began to fall once more.
Shen Heng waved to hail a taxi, but Zhai Yao stopped him, saying, “You go ahead; I’ll take a stroll to stretch my legs a bit.” Having sat throughout the morning, his legs were now tingled with numbness.
Shen Heng: “It’s raining.” At the sight of Zhai Yao turning away to leave, he sighed almost imperceptibly. “Wait for me a moment.”
After those words left his lips, he hurriedly ran across the street to a nearby shop. In no time, he returned with an umbrella and handed it to Zhai Yao.
Zhai Yao took it and perfunctorily said, “Thanks,” then continued walking straight ahead.
Upon crossing an intersection, Zhai Yao inadvertently turned his head back and found that Shen Heng was surprisingly still following him at a steady pace from behind.
Realizing Zhai Yao was aware of his presence, he explained casually, “I’m stretching my legs too.” After a brief pause, he added, “Go on your way.”
This manoeuvre completely baffled Zhai Yao, wondering if he had infected Shen Heng with his fever?
The people of 9th High School were really pitiful; their boss got feverish till the point of becoming a fool.
At that point in time, the rain fell with a gentle touch, its fine threads dancing intimately under the caress of the slanting wind.
Zhai Yao muttered a curse, “Idiot,” under his breath, took a few brisk steps forward, but ultimately couldn’t resist the urge to pivot and turn back. He then shielded Shen Heng’s head with the umbrella.
“Now speak, what are you up to?” Zhai Yao asked with a cold tone.
“Just stretching my legs.”
“Just stretching, your ass!”
Shen Heng fell silent momentarily. “I want to treat you to lunch as an apology.”
“You couldn’t have just said that directly?” Zhai Yao’s mood soured.
Shen Heng asked back, “Would you have agreed if I had said it directly?”
“No.”
“That’s why I plan to wait until we’re at the entrance of the restaurant and then just drag you in.”
Zhai Yao: “……” You motherf*cker are indeed really direct, huh!
*
…
Shen Heng took Zhai Yao to a restaurant that served Chao Shan clay pot congee.
Zhai Yao wasn’t initially interested, but while standing at the entrance, his embarrassing stomach betrayed him with an audible rumble, which Shen Heng overheard.
Zhai Yao felt that Shen Heng had already decided on this restaurant the moment the latter saw him heading in this direction. The reason Shen Heng even dared to blatantly express his “plan” of coercion was probably his firm belief that Zhai Yao was currently in no position to resist him.
The restaurant was bustling with business at mealtime. Shen Heng handed the menu to Zhai Yao, asking him what he wanted to eat, to which Zhai Yao replied with “Anything.” Shen Heng then adeptly ordered some light and easily digestible side dishes, along with a pot of sliced fish congee.
“I always came to this restaurant and bought congee for Shen Ziyao when he was hospitalized before,” Shen Heng mentioned while sterilizing the utensils with tea water.
Perhaps because his sleeve got wet and clung inconveniently to his body, he rolled it up. It coincidentally got rolled up to and covered the scarred area; although a small portion of the scar would still occasionally appeared with his movements.
Suddenly, thoughts of the burnt-down Cultural Palace flashed in Zhai Yao’s mind.
“Why did you only buy one umbrella?” Zhai Yao asked.
“When I went, there was only one left.” After sterilizing his own utensils, Shen Heng moved on to sterilize Zhai Yao’s.
Sensing Zhai Yao’s gaze at his wrist, Shen Heng was about to pull his sleeve down again.
“It’s just a scar; what’s there for a grown man to be afraid of?” Zhai Yao averted his gaze, attempting to convey indifference in his tone. “If it was on your face, would you hide and not appear in front of people? If it was on your butt, would you keep your pants on when using the toilet?”
Shen Heng didn’t respond as a brief hush settled upon him. “You know, under normal circumstances, I would’ve beaten you up already.”
Zhai Yao coldly humph-ed. Under normal circumstances, who beats whom is hard to say.
The clay pot congee quickly arrived at the table. When the lid was lifted, it revealed a steaming delight with the bubbling aroma wafting through the air, stirring one’s appetite.
Zhai Yao didn’t bother with pleasantries with Shen Heng, serving himself a bowl using a ladle. He gauged that the needle mark on his hand had likely ceased bleeding, prompting him to tear off the band-aid.
However, the moment the band-aid was ripped away, he was taken aback.
On the back of his hand, there was a large bruise, as if he had just suffered from a damn case of poisoning. He knew it probably wasn’t caused by Shen Heng when removing the needle; instead, it stemmed from multiple prior attempts to locate the right spot for the IV drip.
Shen Heng took the bowl from Zhai Yao’s hand, filled it with congee, and placed it in front of him. Seeing Zhai Yao’s awkward stirring, he voiced out, “You need…”
“No need to feed me; get lost.”
“…to use your left hand instead.”
The veins on Zhai Yao’s forehead pulsated, and his ears flushed crimson in an instant.
“Why can’t you fricking say everything all at once?” Zhai Yao gritted his teeth.
Shen Heng responded with a “Mm” and silently ate a few spoonfuls of congee. He lifted his gaze again and asked, “But why would you think like that?”
Zhai Yao almost spit out the congee the moment it entered his mouth. Are you gonna let me finish my meal or not!
Seeing Zhai Yao on the verge of flipping the table, Shen Heng lowered his brows and ceased speaking. He took a sip of congee with a lowered gaze, and at that moment, a subtle twitch appeared at the corners of his mouth, almost imperceptible.
Zhai Yao put down the ladle and pointed at himself. “Come, look at me and smile again?”
“Zhai Yao, I’ve realized that you’re actually quite interesting.”
Zhai Yao found the term “interesting” more annoying than the previous “more pleasing to the eye” and “not too bad.” After pondering without a fitting retort, he forced a smile and uttered through clenched teeth, “Shen Heng, you’re more interesting than Laozi.”
Shen Heng contemplated for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“You do! Damn it!”
…
*
After finishing lunch, the weather began to clear up a bit.
A slender ray of sunlight managed to pierce through the lingering dark clouds, casting a golden border around the cloud edges.
Exiting the restaurant after settling the bill, Shen Heng spotted Zhai Yao standing and smoking under the restaurant’s eaves. He walked up to Zhai Yao and said, “Give me one.”
Without sparing a glance at him, Zhai Yao pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tossed it into Shen Heng’s hand. Shen Heng lit one up and stood in silence, watching the streetscape together with Zhai Yao.
“Going home later?” Shen Heng asked.
“Not going back, heading straight to the school,” Zhai Yao replied.
Shen Heng acknowledged with a “Mm.” When both finished their cigarettes, they walked together in the direction of 9th High School.
Before long, they arrived at the underground passageway beneath the railway tracks.
Due to the relentless downpour over the last day and a half, the underground passage was temporarily flooded and sealed off. The two of them didn’t feel like taking a detour, so they climbed the embankment and reached the abandoned railway tracks, continuing to walk along the railway line.
When Zhai Yao was young, he remembered that this place used to have a functional train service, complete with a very small railway platform.
The platform wasn’t far from Dragonfly Alley, and during late nights, one could often hear the rumbling of trains passing by, accompanied by a long and resonant sound of the steam whistle.
Now, although the platform hadn’t been dismantled, it had deteriorated over time. Only an empty and ran-down duty room and a deteriorated train station signboard covered in peeling paint, making the words barely legible, remained.
Surrounded by overgrown grass and an accumulation of all sorts of household rubbish, the vicinity inevitably transformed into a gathering place for stray dogs and homeless people.
Zhai Yao suddenly noticed in the distance a fenced-off area with a round green dome emerging. Its shape was distinctive, resembling an Arabian castle straight out of a cinematic scene.
Zhai Yao’s footsteps unconsciously slowed, and Shen Heng, who was walking beside him, also came to a stop, gazing at the dome. The depths of the latter’s usually inscrutable eyes now carried an even deeper and more enigmatic shade than ever.
“That’s the Cultural Palace, right?”
“Mm.”
“It’s already been so long, yet no one has taken over the property.”
“Mm.”
A hush settled between them, and the surroundings became even quieter than before, with only the gentle rustle of the wind through the grass.
“Did Shen Ziyao tell you that my mom was going to perform at the Cultural Palace?”
Zhai Yao turned to look at Shen Heng, finding him wearing the same expression. He then replied, “He said he urgently needed to tune the piano, fearing it might disrupt your mom’s piano practice… Even insisting on braving the rain to go to the piano shop next to the Cultural Palace.”
Shen Heng nodded and lingered in silence for a while. “My mom didn’t come out afterwards.”
Zhai Yao didn’t respond.
In fact, he wasn’t surprised. Though, to be more precise, he had likely guessed it when he left Shen Heng’s house. This speculation included Shen Ziyao’s often unclear state of mind and the burn injury on Shen Heng’s arm.
But logically, Shen Ziyao was supposed to be Shen Heng’s paternal grandpa, so why did he call Shen Heng’s mom as his daughter?
Zhai Yao felt a bit confused, but then again, other people’s family affairs had little to do with him.
Ultimately, it boiled down to a simple phrase — “The tale behind a motherless child is a lengthy one.”
Zhai Yao gave Shen Heng’s back a pat and took the lead. “Let’s go.” With his back turned away from Shen Heng, he nonchalantly shared, “I don’t have a mom either.”
…
Poor babies..ZY is really soft-hearted deep inside, it’s cute. As for SH I forgive you for the last chapter 😄😽 I really enjoy reading it ❤️