Chapter 60 - 1#
The chill of early autumn began to invade the night.
Chi Gui slept alone in his bed, but his expression was far from peaceful. The lingering nightmare swept over him once again.
Chi Gui pushed open the half-closed door, and the cold air inside rushed to meet him, even colder than the snow-covered outdoors.
The medical staff, who had arrived ahead of schedule after receiving the call, were working desperately to perform first aid. Jing Shun lay on the stretcher, his exposed body nothing but skin and bones.
“……”
Chi Gui had never seen such a lifeless pallor on anyone’s face. It was like a withered flower at the end of its life, stripped of all the vitality it once had in full bloom.
Jing Shun’s hand drooped down. No matter how hard the medical staff tried, they couldn’t revive his fading consciousness. It was as if, in the blink of an eye, he would dissipate into the winter snow.
Chi Gui felt as though his legs were filled with lead. Though the distance was only three steps, he couldn’t move forward even a single pace.
He remembered his first meeting with Jing Shun—the other dressed in beggar’s costume, calling out, “Brother, happy birthday.”
He remembered their reunion—Jing Shun, drunk and murmuring helplessly, asking him, “What am I supposed to do alone?”
He remembered every time they discussed scripts online, Jing Shun’s lively tone immersed in the plot, even saying with a hint of anticipation, “Song Yu, if I get the chance in the future, I’d like to meet you.”
Scenes flashed rapidly through Chi Gui’s mind, but he couldn’t connect them to the person before him.
Until the paramedic walked up to him and asked cautiously:
“Excuse me, are you a family member?”
“……”
“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”
“……”
The blood in Chi Gui’s body surged backwards, and the whole world spun.
He deliberately blocked out that absurd conclusion, mustering every ounce of strength to kneel beside the stretcher.
Jing Shun?
Chi Gui opened his mouth, but the pain kept him from making any sound. He wanted to reach out and touch, but he couldn’t quite reach the person before him.
His vision blurred through unprecedented tears, then slowly cleared. The surroundings shifted, and Chi Gui found himself standing in an unfamiliar hotel corridor.
A few meters away, Jing Shun lay collapsed in the hallway. In the blink of an eye, he was dragged back into the room by the repulsive Meng Zhide.
No!
You can’t!
“—Jing Shun!”
Chi Gui sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath, his chest heaving violently.
He turned over and sat up, realizing that, as usual, this nightmare had startled him into a cold sweat.
It was only three in the morning. Chi Gui had lost all desire to sleep. He was afraid that if he lay back down, he’d plunge into the same recurring nightmare.
Chi Gui went into the bathroom to wash up briefly, changed into new pajamas, and left the room. The villa was silent; everyone in the household was deep in sleep.
“……”
Chi Gui slowed his steps as he reached the second floor, stopping in front of Jing Shun’s door. The panic in his heart refused to subside, overriding reason and crossing boundaries.
To avoid any accidents, Jing Shun’s bedroom had not been locked.
Chi Gui carefully pushed open the door. In the faint glow of the wall light, he looked toward the bed. Dogbao, who had been sleeping, woke sharply and immediately let out a warning growl from its throat.
“Woo~ Woof~”
It jumped off the foot of the bed, its claws making a soft scraping sound on the floor.
Chi Gui frowned and whispered, “Be good, quiet!”
But it was too late—
Jing Shun seemed to sense something, opening his eyes groggily. “Hmm? Baby?”
He caught sight of the figure at the door and, after a few seconds of blurriness, spoke uncertainly, “…Chi Gui?”
“It’s me.”
Seeing this, Chi Gui simply approached.
He leaned down toward the person on the bed. “Sorry, did I scare you?”
Their eyes met in the dimness.
Jing Shun’s voice was still soft with sleep. “No. What are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d come down and check.” Chi Gui didn’t mention his nightmare, his tone still laced with apology. “Sorry for opening your door without permission and waking you.”
Jing Shun looked at the pitch-black sky beyond the curtain gap and tentatively invited, “Do you want to sleep a little more?”
“……”
Chi Gui hesitated for two seconds and, unable to refuse the invitation, climbed into bed. But unlike before, he didn’t wrap his arms around Jing Shun and pull him close.
Instead, uncharacteristically, he lowered his head, pressing his face into Jing Shun’s neck and chest, silent and forceful.
Thump—thump—thump—
The steady heartbeat broke into his eardrums, enough to shatter all unease. Chi Gui’s frayed nerves finally began to reconnect.
He took a deep breath and called out softly, “Baby.”
Sensing the fragility emanating from Chi Gui, Jing Shun was a little surprised. “Chi Gui, what’s wrong?”
Chi Gui didn’t answer, but called again, “Baby.”
“Mm?”
Jing Shun responded uncertainly. “I’m here.”
His fingers threaded through the hair at the back of Chi Gui’s head, slowly stroking to comfort him. “Are you feeling unwell? Or did you have a nightmare?”
The word “nightmare” sent Chi Gui flashing back to those memories, and his breathing involuntarily quickened.
The nightmare was real.
Everything that happened in the nightmare was also real.
“……”
Jing Shun caught that fleeting change and confirmed the answer.
“Chi Gui.”
He called softly, with a reassuring smile. “Did you dream something bad happened to me? Is that why you came sneaking down to check on me in the dead of night?”
Chi Gui didn’t speak, but hugged him tighter. “Baby.”
There was an unexpected clinginess to him, even a little stronger than Dogbao.
For the half month since the incident, Chi Gui hadn’t gone to headquarters. Instead, he stayed home all day, working. Jing Shun had been puzzled about why he’d suddenly become so idle, but now he had a far more surprising but clear answer.
Chi Gui was worried about him.
Even afraid that something else might happen to him.
“I’m fine now. It’s all in the past.”
Jing Shun freed his other hand and gently patted Chi Gui’s back, smiling more openly. “Chi Gui? Chi Gui, let’s talk, okay?”
“……”
Chi Gui adjusted his position, pulling back slightly. “What are you smiling at?”
Jing Shun looked up at him in the dimness and asked, “Smiling because… are you pretty fond of me?”
Chi Gui countered, “What do you think?”
Jing Shun listed his observations from this time. “You preserve the flowers you gave me as dried flowers, you worry about the bruises and scrapes on my feet, you blame yourself for what Meng Zhide did to me, you rushed to the hospital overnight to take care of me, and also…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Chi Gui prompted, “Mm?”
Jing Shun kissed his thin lips, a brief taste. “And you kiss me. You’re not averse to being intimate with me, right?”
Chi Gui gave another soft affirmation, admitting it.
“……”
If that wasn’t liking, what was?
Hearing his answer, Jing Shun muttered, “Then why wouldn’t you be with me? Do you still need time to think?”
Chi Gui was genuinely stunned for several seconds, then let out a helpless sound. “What?”
Jing Shun hummed. “What ‘what’?”
Chi Gui repeated what he had just said. “I keep the flowers you give me, I put medicine on your bruises, I regret not being by your side when you were in trouble, I want to hold you when I sleep, I can’t help but want to—”
Their lips met again, but this time it was Chi Gui who initiated. “—kiss you.”
“……”
“Mm.”
Chi Gui bit Jing Shun’s lower lip as if in punishment. “Baby, I thought we were already together on my birthday.”
Jing Shun was a beat slow. “Then you told me to pursue you?”
Chi Gui gave an excuse. “Who told you to keep asking about the process instead of just asking for the result? If you’d just asked one more question—‘Chi Gui, are we together?’—I would have said yes.”
Jing Shun snorted softly. “You were definitely teasing me on purpose.”
Chi Gui laughed but didn’t deny it.
Jing Shun didn’t dwell on this misunderstanding born of cluelessness; he just chalked it up to what his friend Yu Zhen called “romantic play.”
Even so, he asked formally, “Chi Gui, are we together now?”
“Yes, we’re together.”
Chi Gui responded to his question, then added, “But you should know, in my book, there’s no option for regret or breaking up.”
“Me neither.”
Jing Shun curved his lips and actively wrapped his arms around Chi Gui’s shoulders. “I won’t regret it.”
Ever since he turned eighteen, Jing Shun had felt like his life kept sinking deeper into darkness, until Chi Gui appeared, like a beam of light piercing through his gloom.
“Chi Gui.”
“Mm?”
“I like you. I really do.”
They gently touched noses, breathing each other in. “I like you so much.”
Chi Gui kissed him. “I know.”
Unlike the two times before, this kiss was as tender as spring water overflowing, making them sink deeper with each passing moment.
When the kiss ended.
Jing Shun’s mind was dizzy, his breath still unsteady.
He looked at the faint hint of dawn through the curtain gap. “Chi Gui, are you going to headquarters today?”
“No, staying home with you.”
Chi Gui pulled his partner into his arms and coaxed, “Sleep peacefully. We’ll sleep until we naturally wake up.”
Some mistakes, Chi Gui would never allow himself to make again.
Qin Ye was right—no matter how heavy the power and assets in hand, they couldn’t outweigh the safety of one’s beloved.
Chi Gui patted the back of his partner’s head. “Sleep now. You need strength for your rehabilitation.”
Jing Shun let out a small yawn and closed his eyes. “Mm.”
…
Once their relationship was officially settled, Chi Gui simply dropped the act.
He didn’t want to repeat that nightmare. That very night, he carried Jing Shun up to the third floor and demanded they sleep together every night from then on. Jing Shun also felt reassured by Chi Gui’s side, so he didn’t refuse.
That night.
Jing Shun was washing up in the bathroom while Chi Gui sat in front of his computer, ending the last international video conference.
Just as he took off his earphones, he saw Dogbao dragging its big dog bed all the way from the second floor to the third, now huffing and puffing as it hauled it into the master bedroom.
“Dogbao!”
Chi Gui stood up and quickly blocked Dogbao’s way. “You’re not allowed to sleep in the master bedroom. You’re grown up now; you have to sleep on your own.”
Dogbao stared at him with big eyes and barked right in his face, “Woof!”