When he finally regained consciousness, Qi Rui was lying in bed, his head pounding. He took a few ragged breaths, feeling a stinging pain in his forearm. He subconsciously looked over and saw it was bloody, with large bloodstains on the bedsheet.
Qi Rui was clearly used to such situations. He calmly got up and took out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds. The cuts on his forearm varied in size, some shallow, others deep.
After bandaging his wounds, he sat in a daze for a while before rummaging through the bedside cabinet. He noticed 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 several days of unconsciousness. The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was a blinding white. She turned her head to look out the window; it was familiar – her old hospital room.
Still not fully alert, her pale face was 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, urgently speaking something into her ear, but she couldn't make out the words.
She mustered a little strength.
"Brother, I'm alright."
She pursed her lips into a smile, looking beautiful and delicate.
The voice by her ear became clearer, a man's low, suppressed hoarseness. "Yueyue, don't sleep too much. Talk to me for a bit."
Shen Yue opened her mouth but lacked the strength to speak. She drifted back into unconsciousness, dazed and listless.
This illness became a catalyst, shattering the previous beautiful facade. Shen Yue's condition worsened; she slept for longer periods and inexplicable bruises would appear on her body.
Zhang Cong stayed by her side almost constantly. He was afraid to touch her, as Shen Yue looked 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 twitched. The hair at her temples was damp with sweat. Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on her pale forehead. She was in so much pain that she bit her lip repeatedly until it was red, as if about to bleed.
Fragmented words escaped her throat, faint and pained. "Brother, it hurts so much..."
Since the start of her treatment, Shen Yue had never complained of pain. It must have hurt terribly for her to awaken from her coma in agony.
Zhang Cong climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. She was trembling all over, her body icy 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 suffocating, as if a lump had formed in his throat.
Her slender, fair fingertips tightly clutched the clothes on his chest. Her eyes were closed, tears streaming down her face.
"Brother."
"Brother."
Shen Yue softly called out to him.
Calling out "Brother."
Helpless and collapsing.
As if reminding herself of something.
Zhang Cong's heart ached intensely, gripping his lungs, making him feel as if his chest was being torn apart.
"Brother is here, don't be afraid, don't be afraid." He lowered his head, kissing her hair haphazardly, his eyes red from pain.
His delicate kisses fell upon her eyebrows, eyes, and cheeks. His tears smudged Shen Yue's face. He whispered words of reassurance into her ear, telling her not to be afraid.
Don't be afraid, Brother is here.
***
About a week later, Shen Yue's condition had stabilized somewhat. At least she no longer fell into a day-long coma without warning.
Zhang Cong went out to buy food. On his way, he passed a flower shop and went inside to browse. After a while, he bought a pot of campanula, a pale blue flower. The bell-shaped campanula petals swayed gracefully, emitting a faint fragrance.
Returning to the ward, he found Shen Yue sitting by the window. Outside, the sun was bright, and warm rays of light streamed in, illuminating her pale, translucent skin. Her long, curled eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and her pupils were dark and moist.
Zhang Cong's heart skipped a beat.
He walked over and stood beside Shen Yue, restraining himself. He couldn't control the flutter in his chest. His voice was husky. "After we eat, I'll take you out for some sun."
Shen Yue turned her head, offering a faint smile. But his gaze was quickly drawn to the pot of campanula flowers in his hand, their pale blue petals delicate.
She looked up, her eyes crinkling, dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Is this for me?"
The tips of the man's ears turned red, but his expression remained unchanged. He seemed particularly shy. "Yes, it's for you."
Shen Yue held the campanula 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 campanula petals.
She had very beautiful eyes, warm and serene. "I like it very much."
Zhang Cong's heart pounded furiously, as if it no longer belonged to him. He bent down and caressed her face with his rough fingertip; her skin was soft and cool.
A wave of heat surged through his limbs. His breathing became rapid, his deep eyes growing thick and dark.
"Brother."
Shen Yue looked at him quietly, her expression hazy, as if veiled by a thin layer of mist, inviting one to tear it away.
Zhang Cong's throat grew drier, his eyes darker. His thin lips were pressed tightly together, his exhaled breath scalding.
He slowly reached out, his hand passing through that thin veil and landing on her pale lips. He gently caressed and kneaded them, not with much force, until her lips became full and rosy.
Her wrist was grasped by soft hands. The man's eyelashes trembled. The two of them were very close, their warm breaths mingling. He felt his breathing quicken, his entire body seeming to heat up.
That hand was cool and gentle, yet Zhang Cong froze.
"Brother, what's wrong?"
Her soft tone carried a hint of confusion. She looked so pure, as if she knew nothing, gazing at him innocently, reflecting his own dirty, dark desires.
He quickly withdrew his hand, straightening up abruptly. His lips trembled slightly. He took a deep breath, his tumultuous eyes quickly regaining clarity. He dared not meet Shen Yue's gaze.
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 broth from this place is especially good, not too rich, not too light, and it smells wonderful. And this place's..."
Shen Yue sat on the sofa, listening quietly. The man kept his head down, so she couldn't see his expression. Of course, she also didn't know that a complex bitterness flowed through her gentle eyes.
Zhang Cong's feelings were so obvious, how could she not notice?
Shen Yue was not foolish; she saw clearly and felt it keenly.
But, she couldn't.
Zhang Cong deserved someone better.