Chapter 8#
Offerings to the Homophobic Straight Man: Crematorium 8#
Under the covers, Qiao Qing felt a surge of sleepiness wash over him as his tense spirit relaxed, a result of his physical weakness and the previous commotion.
Hearing no movement from Shen Youli outside, his consciousness gradually blurred, and he fell into a groggy sleep.
Once he confirmed that the breathing of the person on the bed had become even and long, Shen Youli stood up softly.
He stood by the bedside, quietly watching the mound under the quilt for a while. The teasing and playfulness faded from his eyes, replaced by a softness he hadn’t even noticed himself.
He carefully tucked the corners of the quilt for Qiao Qing, ensuring no cold air would get in, then lightened his steps and turned to leave the ward.
As soon as he walked out and gently closed the door, he ran into a young nurse carrying a medicine tray.
When the nurse saw him, her eyes widened instantly, her face filled with surprise: “Dr. Shen? Aren’t you… aren’t you on leave? Why are you still in the hospital?”
At this moment, Shen Youli was a completely different person from the lazy, unrestrained, and even somewhat glib-tongued character he had portrayed in front of Qiao Qing.
He stood tall, his expression indifferent and distant, his gaze calm, radiating the aura of an unapproachable “high-altitude flower.”
He looked at the nurse calmly, slightly tilting his head and gesturing towards Qiao Qing’s ward door with his eyes. His voice was deep and concise.
“Mm. A friend is hospitalized; I’m here to take care of him.”
“A friend?”
The nurse’s curiosity was instantly piqued. She couldn’t help but stand on her tiptoes, trying to peek through the small window on the door, a gossipy smile on her face.
“Who is it? Who has such great status to make our famous Dr. Shen take leave to personally care for them?”
Dr. Shen of Cardiac Surgery was famous throughout the hospital for his excellent skills and good looks, but he was also known for being difficult to approach.
Many doctors and nurses had shown interest in him, but he had rejected them all politely yet distantly.
Now he was actually at the hospital to care for a friend?
Shen Youli’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He moved his feet slightly, unobtrusively blocking the nurse’s inquisitive gaze with his body.
His brow was slightly knitted, his tone carrying a hint of authority.
“Is all your work finished? You have time to pry into this?”
“Be careful, or I’ll go find your mentor and ask her if the workload she assigned you is too light.”
Hearing about her mentor, the nurse immediately ducked her head, pressing her hands together in a plea for mercy.
“No, no, no! Dr. Shen, I was wrong! I’ll get back to work right now, right now! Please don’t tell my mentor!”
With that, she immediately picked up her tray and scurried away as if her feet were greased, fearing that any delay would result in her being reported.
Watching the nurse’s panicked retreat, the coldness on Shen Youli’s face thawed slightly, revealing a hint of a helpless smile.
He turned back, his gaze falling once more on the closed ward door, his expression complex.
Shen Youli was not a caregiver from any platform.
He was the youngest deputy chief physician of Cardiac Surgery at Beijing First People’s Hospital—highly skilled and with a bright future.
Today, he was indeed supposed to be resting on leave, but while passing the nurse’s station, he had unintentionally heard about Qiao Qing’s car accident and admission, as well as… fragments of the argument with Lin Jinbai.
Driven by a strange impulse, he had pulled some strings to “replace” the caregiver originally assigned by the platform and appeared in Qiao Qing’s ward.
He couldn’t even explain to himself why he was doing this.
Perhaps just to fulfill a dream he had held for many years?
This wasn’t his first meeting with Qiao Qing.
But Qiao Qing no longer remembered him.
Shen Youli leaned against the cold wall, the corridor lights casting a faint shadow over his well-defined face.
He closed his eyes, and memories long buried uncontrollably surfaced in his mind.
It wasn’t a particularly beautiful first meeting, but it was like a pebble thrown into a still pond.
The ripples it created hadn’t dissipated even after more than ten years.
Back then, he was a middle school student who had become extreme due to family changes.
One late autumn evening, after the cold rain had just stopped, the air was filled with a damp chill.
He had climbed onto an old bridge alone, looking at the turbid, churning river water below, feeling that the whole world was so dark there wasn’t a single glimmer of light.
An unprecedented despair enveloped him, giving him the impulse to leap.
Just as his toes were about to leave the bridge’s surface, a voice that was somewhat impatient yet exceptionally clear sounded behind him:
“Hey! What are you doing standing there posing in this cold weather? If you’re going to try and look cool, pick a better spot!”
He turned his head abruptly and saw a teenager in a school uniform, with his bag slung over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets, frowning at him.
The person’s features were handsome, with a high bridge of the nose and the corners of his mouth naturally inclined upwards. Even with an impatient expression, he appeared vibrant.
That was the first time Shen Youli met Qiao Qing.
Shen Youli didn’t pay any attention—or rather, he had lost the desire to communicate with anyone at that time.
He turned his head back, looking at the dizzying river surface below, and leaned forward—
“Holy crap! Are you for real?!”
the teenager cried out, reacting with lightning speed.
Shen Youli only heard a series of rapid footsteps, and in the next second, a massive force violently pulled him back from the bridge railing.
The two of them fell heavily onto the wet bridge deck together.
“Are you fucking sick in the head?!”
the teenager cursed in anger, rubbing his bruised elbow as he stood up, looking down at the hollow-eyed Shen Youli sitting paralyzed on the ground.
“Isn’t living good? Why do you have to seek death?”
Shen Youli didn’t speak, just stared fixedly at the ground.
Seeing him like this, the teenager irritably ran a hand through his hair, seemingly unwilling to waste more breath on him, and turned to leave.
Looking at his retreating back, the cold darkness in Shen Youli’s heart grew even thicker.
See, no one cares at all…
However, the teenager, who had already walked some distance, suddenly stopped, cursed something under his breath, and then abruptly turned around and strode back.
He grabbed Shen Youli by the collar, practically lifting him off the ground, his tone aggressive:
“Consider it my bad luck to run into a troublemaker like you! Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of hot milk tea. After you drink it, get the hell home!”
The teenager tried to lead him away from that dangerous place.
But the Shen Youli of that time was stuck in a dead end. With an unknown strength, he suddenly broke free, turned around, and actually leaped over the railing.
The biting river water instantly submerged him, and a sense of suffocation rushed at him.
“Fuck!”
He heard a furious curse from the shore, followed by a “splash” as someone hit the water.
In the cold river, a powerful arm tightly gripped his waist, struggling to drag him towards the shore.
The instinct for survival made him struggle, making the rescue even more difficult.
With great effort, the teenager managed to drag him to the shallow water and, half-carrying, half-pulling him, got him onto the shore.
Both were soaked to the bone, slumped on the cold riverbank, gasping for breath.
Due to the choking water and the cold, Shen Youli’s consciousness was already somewhat blurred.
“Hey! Wake up! Don’t sleep!” The teenager patted his face. Seeing no reaction, his expression changed.
In the next moment, Shen Youli felt a soft object, carrying the fishy smell of the river water and the other’s unique body temperature, cover his cold lips.
It was mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Qiao Qing was giving him mouth-to-mouth.
In Shen Youli’s chaotic consciousness, only that brief but incredibly clear touch on his lips remained, along with the other’s close, anxious, and focused gaze.
Later, seeing that he had caught his breath, Qiao Qing gritted his teeth, hoisted the boy who was almost as tall as himself onto his back, and trudged through the mud with difficulty to bring him to the nearest hospital.
All along the way, Qiao Qing was panting with exhaustion, his mouth never stopping its grumbling—complaining about his weight, complaining about his own nosiness—but his back remained steady as it supported him.
At the hospital, Qiao Qing paid his medical expenses and contacted his family. Only after confirming he was fine did he wring out his soaked clothes, sneeze, and quietly slip away.
From beginning to end, Shen Youli never managed to ask his name.
Not until a few days later, when Shen Youli returned to school.
During a break between classes, he unintentionally saw that familiar figure in the senior high school assembly.
He was wearing a blue-and-white school uniform, standing at the front of the queue with an upright posture. Under the sun, his profile was clear and handsome.
He heard some girls nearby whispering:
“Look, that’s Senior Qiao Qing from the third year. He’s handsome, right?”
“Yeah, but too bad he seems to have someone he likes. He’s inseparable from that Lin Jinbai every day…”
Qiao Qing.
So his name was Qiao Qing.
From that day on, Shen Youli’s gaze began to uncontrollably follow the figure named Qiao Qing.
He watched him sweat on the basketball court, heard him speak as a student representative under the flag-raising platform, and saw him walking with a smile alongside that Lin Jinbai on the tree-lined campus paths…
He watched Qiao Qing’s meticulous care for Lin Jinbai, saw the light in Qiao Qing’s eyes that couldn’t be hidden when he looked at Lin Jinbai.
He was jealous of Lin Jinbai—insanely jealous.
Why could that person named Lin Jinbai so easily possess all of Qiao Qing’s attention and tenderness?
Why did he act so dismissively despite having what Shen Youli longed for but couldn’t reach?
This jealousy and bitterness had been buried deep in his heart for years.
Shen Youli slowly opened his eyes, pulling himself out of the memories.
Through the glass on the ward door, he watched Qiao Qing sleeping soundly on the bed, his gaze deep as the ocean.
After all this time, he had still met Qiao Qing. God truly had eyes.