When he regained consciousness, Qi Rui was already in bed, his head throbbing. He took a few ragged breaths. A stinging pain emanated from his forearm. Instinctively, he looked over to see a patch of red, the bedsheet stained with large bloodstains.
Qi Rui was clearly accustomed to such situations. He calmly got up, took out a medical kit, and bandaged his wounds. The injuries on his forearm varied in size, some shallow, others deep.
After bandaging his wounds, he remained in a daze for a while. He rummaged through the bedside cabinet and found that the medicine inside had been replaced with a new bottle.
It seemed he had been sleepwalking more and more frequently lately.
—
Shen Yue woke up after being unconscious for several days. The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was a blinding white expanse. She turned her head to look out the window; it was familiar, her original hospital room.
She was not yet fully conscious, her pale face whiter than the pillow. Her eyelashes were long and curled, casting faint shadows beneath her eyelids.
In her dazed state, she seemed to see a tall figure, who appeared to be speaking urgently into her ear, but she couldn't hear clearly.
She mustered a bit of strength.
"Brother, I'm fine."
She pursed her lips and smiled, a beautiful, delicate smile.
The voice by her ear became clearer, a man's deep, suppressed, hoarse whisper, "Yueyue, don't sleep too much. Talk to your brother for a bit."
Shen Yue opened her mouth but found she lacked the strength to speak. In a hazy state, she drifted back into sleep.
This illness was like a catalyst, shattering the previous beautiful facade. Shen Yue's condition worsened. She fell into longer periods of unconsciousness, and mysterious bruises would appear on her body.
Zhang Cong stayed by her side almost constantly. He was afraid to even touch her, as Shen Yue appeared so fragile, as if she could be crushed with the slightest pressure.
In the middle of the night, Zhang Cong heard movement from the hospital bed. His sleep was light, and he woke up almost immediately.
Shen Yue's head shook, the hair at her temples damp with sweat. Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on her pale forehead. She was in so much pain that she bit her lips repeatedly, her lips turning red, as if about to bleed.
From her throat came a few intermittent words, faint and pained, "Brother, it hurts so much…"
Since the beginning of her treatment, Shen Yue had never complained of pain. Now, she must be in such agony to wake up from her coma.
Zhang Cong climbed onto the bed and pulled the woman into his arms. She was trembling all over, her body chillingly cold. He gently used his sleeve to wipe the cold sweat from her face.
In the darkness, the person in his arms curled up, her soft whimpers of pain making his chest feel constricted, his throat as if blocked by a lump.
Her slender, pale fingertips tightly grasped the clothes on his chest. Her eyes were closed, and tears were constantly falling.
"Brother."
"Brother."
Shen Yue called him softly.
Calling him brother.
Helpless and breaking down.
As if reminding herself of something.
Zhang Cong's heart ached intensely, tearing at his insides, making him feel as if his chest would rip apart.
"Brother is here, don't be afraid, don't be afraid." He lowered his head and kissed her hair haphazardly, his eyes red with pain.
Numerous fine kisses landed on her eyes and cheeks. His tears smudged Shen Yue's face. He spoke softly in her ear, whispering words of reassurance, telling her not to be afraid.
Don't be afraid, brother is here.
—
After about a week, Shen Yue's condition stabilized slightly. At least she wouldn't fall into a day-long slumber so frequently.
Zhang Cong went out to buy food. He passed a flower shop, went inside to look around, and after a while, bought a pot of balloon flowers. They were a pale blue. The bell-shaped balloon flower petals swayed gracefully, emitting a faint fragrance.
When he returned to the room, Shen Yue was sitting by the window. The sunlight outside was bright, and warm rays streamed in, falling on her pale, translucent skin. Her long, curled eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and her pupils were dark and moist.
Zhang Cong's heart trembled.
He walked over and stood beside Shen Yue. Restraining himself, he found it difficult to suppress the surge of emotion, his voice hoarse, "After we eat, I'll take you out to get some sun."
Shen Yue turned her head and gave a faint smile. However, his gaze was quickly drawn to the pot of balloon flowers in his hand, their pale blue petals delicate.
She looked up, her eyes curving, dimples appearing shallowly, "Is this for me?"
The man's earlobes turned red, but his expression remained unchanged. He seemed unusually shy, "Yes, it's for you."
Shen Yue held the balloon flowers. Sunlight quietly spilled onto his profile, his long eyelashes casting faint shadows on his pale skin. Everything appeared so beautiful and gentle; it would have been even better if the background wasn't a hospital room.
Her slender fingers, with tips as pink as flower buds, gently touched the pale blue balloon flower petals.
She had very beautiful eyes, gentle and serene. "I like it very much."
Zhang Cong's heart pounded rapidly, as if it no longer belonged to him. He bent down, his rough fingertips stroking the woman's face, soft and cool.
A wave of heat rushed through his limbs, his breathing becoming rapid, his deep eyes growing thick and dark.
"Brother."
Shen Yue looked at him quietly, her gaze hazy, as if veiled by a thin layer of gauze that beckoned to be torn.
Zhang Cong's throat grew increasingly dry, his eyes darker. His thin lips pressed together tightly, and the air he exhaled was scalding.
He slowly extended his hand, passing through that layer of gauze, and landed on her pale lips. He slowly caressed and massaged them, gently, until her lips became full and rosy.
Her wrist was grasped by soft hands. The man's eyelashes fluttered. The two were very close, their warm breaths mingling between them. He felt his breathing quicken, his entire body feeling as if it were heating up.
That hand was cold, its grip light, yet Zhang Cong froze.
"Brother, what's wrong?"
Her gentle tone carried a hint of confusion. She looked pure, as if knowing nothing, looking at him so innocently, reflecting his own dirty, dark desires.
He quickly withdrew his hand, straightened up abruptly, his lips trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, his eyes, which had been churning with dark currents, quickly regained clarity. He dared not look at Shen Yue.
As if to change the subject, he helped Shen Yue to sit at the table and began to unpack the food.
When he was nervous, he tended to talk a lot. "The bone soup from this place is particularly delicious, not too rich, not too light, and the aroma is wonderful. And this place's..."
Shen Yue sat on the sofa, listening quietly. The man kept his head bowed, so she couldn't see his expression, nor could she know that her gentle eyes were flowing with a complex, bitter light.
Zhang Cong's behavior was so obvious; how could she not notice?
Shen Yue was not foolish. She saw clearly and felt it distinctly.