Chapter 29 - 2#

He was afraid Chi Gui would still disagree, so his tone softened even more. “I’m really tired today. I don’t want to take a helicopter back and forth anymore.”

Wei Di whispered a reminder, “Sir, I went to ask just now. It’s too late, and the sea wind is strong. There’s really no way to go back now.”

Chi Gui had no choice but to give up. “Mm, got it.”

Doctor Chen took the opportunity to say, “I’ll go get some anti-inflammatory ointment and solution. If you find any bruises on the bumps, remember to apply them in time.”

Jing Shun responded, “Mm.”

…

The bedroom fell silent again.

Chi Gui brought in the small medical kit. “Where did you bump yourself?”

Jing Shun had already pulled himself out of the earlier panic and fear. He remembered that the possible injury was on his lower back and felt embarrassed to lift his bathrobe in front of Chi Gui.

He said, “Give it to me. I can do it myself.”

Chi Gui didn’t listen. “When I went out earlier, you also said you could manage on your own. And what happened?”

“…”

Jing Shun was at a loss for words.

Chi Gui opened the small kit, taking out the ointment and liniment one by one. “Lift the blanket. Let me see if your feet are bruised.”

Jing Shun didn’t follow his instructions. He wrapped himself tightly in the blanket. “I can do it myself. Are you going out again?”

Hadn’t he said earlier that he would be gone for an hour or two? Had Jing Shun disrupted his plans?

Chi Gui no longer had the heart to go out. He replied, “I’m not going out tonight.”

“Oh.”

Jing Shun tried to shrink further under the blanket, insisting, “I can handle it. Why don’t you go wash up first?”

Chi Gui noticed his unease and, after a moment of silence, relented. “Alright. If you need help, let me know.”

Jing Shun breathed a sigh of relief. “Mm.”

Soon, the sound of water trickling came from the bathroom.

Jing Shun applied the ointment on his hands, but his mind was still preoccupied with what had just happened. “Chi Gui…”

Chi Gui.

He unconsciously murmured the name he had long since memorized, the subtle palpitations in his heart growing heavier.

An indescribable, inexplicable emotion quietly flowed through him.

Until the bathroom door opened again, and Chi Gui walked out in a pure black bathrobe. The slightly open collar revealed a hint of his chest muscles—nothing exaggerated but exuding hidden strength.

His neatly combed hair had been washed again and was still a bit damp, falling casually and messily across his forehead.

Their eyes met, and Jing Shun’s heartbeat uncontrollably quickened.

For a moment, he felt that Chi Gui was no longer the aloof authority figure; the gap in their status seemed to vanish all at once.

Chi Gui approached, holding a steaming towel. “Done applying?”

Jing Shun nodded. “Al—almost.”

Chi Gui handed him the towel. “It’s clean. Wipe your hands, then take your medicine.”

“Okay.”

Jing Shun relied on the medication prescribed by Dr. Wen to fall asleep every night.

Although this trip was impromptu, the butler had already packed his medicine for him.

Chi Gui glanced at the blanket covering Jing Shun, his gaze flickering, then took out a spare blanket from the cabinet. “I’ll sleep on the left. You sleep on the right. No problem?”

Jing Shun couldn’t find any reason to refuse and nodded.

The warm water he had been using to warm his hands earlier had cooled down, but it was just right for swallowing the medicine now.

After taking his medicine, Jing Shun shifted and lay down.

Chi Gui simply turned off the main light, leaving only a very dim nightlight.

The bed was indeed large enough.

Even with two people and two blankets, there was still plenty of space.

Everything in the top-tier cabin suite was of the highest standard—soft mattresses and fragrant sheets made it easy to fall asleep.

But the medicine hadn’t kicked in yet, and Jing Shun couldn’t sleep.

Whenever he closed his eyes, his mind replayed the scene in the bathroom tonight, interwoven with countless images of falls from his past life. Mocking laughter echoed in his ears.

Some emotions and memories seemed suppressed, but in truth, they would suddenly resurface at certain triggers, at certain moments, entangling him and refusing to let go.

Like shadows, like curses.

A suffocating psychological pressure enveloped him, and Jing Shun unconsciously parted his lips.

Suddenly, Chi Gui beside him seemed to sense the pain spilling from him and asked.

“Jing Shun? What’s wrong?”

“…”

Jing Shun opened his eyes but didn’t speak.

Chi Gui turned slightly, responding to the fragility in his gaze. “Thinking about something? Or feeling unwell?”

In the silence, a wordless stillness stretched on.

Jing Shun’s gaze seemed slightly unfocused, as if he were looking through Chi Gui at someone else.

He took a light breath and asked softly, “Chi Gui, this isn’t some rich people’s trick to toy with me, is it?”

At first, they pretend to be nice, especially nice, and when he starts to trust them, they slowly pull away, become cold. After a while, they tell him it was all a lie, that he was just a plaything.

Some things, Jing Shun didn’t want to experience a second time.

Chi Gui was taken aback. “What?”

Jing Shun closed his eyes again, deeply guarded against everything that had happened in his past life. “Nothing.”

He controlled his breathing, keeping it restrained.

Jing Shun took a light breath, as if speaking to Chi Gui, but more to himself. “I mean, you don’t have to be so good to me.”

He had long gotten used to bearing everything alone. He was afraid of developing an inappropriate dependence on others, and even more afraid that this dependence would become a weapon to hurt him in the end.

Between him and Chi Gui, it could only be a contractual relationship. How could he afford to become dependent?

Jing Shun tried to reinforce his psychological defenses, yet it was laced with an anticipation and anxiety he himself didn’t fully recognize.

He kept his eyes tightly shut and murmured again, “Don’t be so good to me.”

The silence in the air slowly flowed on.

No one knew how much time passed before Jing Shun felt a familiar presence encroach.

Chi Gui patted his back through the blanket, a reassurance, more like a promise. “Jing Shun, I’m not toying with you. I’ll never toy with you.”

“…”

“So don’t think about anything. Just sleep well.”

“…”

A lingering ache spread from the tip of his heart, swaying with the sea outside the window.

Jing Shun felt the silent comfort on his back, each pat dissolving his chaotic emotions, dispelling the pain and darkness.

In the end, he couldn’t bear to refuse this brief sense of security and silently allowed the other to coax him to sleep.

Until the medicine took effect, and he slept soundly.

Waking up.

The sea surface sparkled under the sunlight.

Jing Shun lingered in the soft, fragrant blanket for a while. Only when footsteps sounded at the bedroom door did he slowly lift his eyes.

Chi Gui was already dressed neatly, in a black outfit that exuded an ascetic vibe. When expressionless, he had returned to that cold, unapproachable aura.

“…”

Jing Shun’s mind wandered for a moment. He felt that the Chi Gui he had seen before sleeping last night might have been an illusion brought on by his hard fall.

Chi Gui stood at the bedroom door, not approaching deliberately. “Did you sleep well? It’s almost noon. Get up and eat something.”

“Mm.”

Jing Shun took his time washing up. When he came out of the bedroom, the front hall table was already set with exquisite, abundant plates, and Wei Di had also arrived.

“Mr. Jing.”

Wei Di greeted him with concern. “Are you feeling better?”

Jing Shun had slept in an unfamiliar bed but had surprisingly recovered his energy quite well. “Mm, I’m fine. The bruises on my waist and legs aren’t serious either.”

As he spoke, he glanced at Chi Gui, subtly trying to prove his point. “See? I told you I could handle the ointment myself.”

Chi Gui took a sip of coffee without looking up, not objecting.

Last night, after Jing Shun fell asleep, he had checked the bumps and bruises himself, even secretly applying ointment to gently massage the swelling and bruising.

Jing Shun had been so deep in his medicated sleep that he hadn’t noticed a thing.

Of course, his sleeping posture was also quite well-behaved.

Jing Shun first drank half a glass of warm water before picking up a sandwich that caught his interest. “What’s the plan on the ship today?”

“There’s a charity auction this afternoon, and tonight the Second Young Master Ji has prepared a banquet meal.”

Wei Di, already familiar with the itinerary, reported, “As for evening entertainment, it’s the same as usual: card games and gambling, shooting, bowling—all set up with game chips.”

“Guests can decide the chip amounts themselves; it’s purely for fun, win or lose.”

Jing Shun countered, “What if some guests get carried away? If they raise the stakes and lose, do they still have to pay up?”

Chi Gui replied, “No one would act that way in this setting.”

Jing Shun snorted.

He almost forgot—the wealthy and powerful cared most about face. Not being able to afford losing would make them a laughingstock.

Chi Gui asked, “What interests you?”

Jing Shun wasn’t particularly interested. “Nothing much. I’ve never played any of them.”

The main issue was that he was in a wheelchair, making it inconvenient to play. If he had to choose one, it would be shooting.

At fifteen, Jing Shun had learned a bit of archery for a film shoot. Although shooting involved a gun, the two skills probably complemented each other.

Wei Di asked, “Sir, should we attend the charity auction this afternoon?”

Chi Gui nodded. “Yes.”

Though these occasions were mostly for show, as long as the charity funds were put to good use, it was doing a good deed.

Chi Gui said, “Jing Shun, you’ll come with me this time. No going off on your own again. Three strikes and you’re out.”

“…”

Still holding a grudge?

Jing Shun silently complained but obediently replied, “Okay.”

The charity auction’s entry was set for 1:30 PM, held in the fourth-floor hall.

A guest check-in table was set up outside the hall.

The waitstaff serving on the ship had all been trained in advance.

The receptionist recognized Chi Gui’s face and greeted him with a smile. “Mr. Chi, welcome to our charity auction.”

“Please sign here. Thank you.”

Chi Gui signed his name neatly, then handed the book to Jing Shun, who had accompanied him.

Jing Shun took it.

Before he could put pen to paper, a light, flippant voice sounded from the side, its tone almost offensive:

“How come someone in a wheelchair managed to get on this cruise banquet?”