Chapter 60 - 2#

No way! The baby is too young! The baby won’t accept this!

Chi Gui could tell it wasn’t convinced. “I said no means no. And especially not on the bed, sleeping with Jing Shun.”

The puppy stomped its front paws in frustration. “Woof! Woof woof!”

The baby doesn’t listen to you, Gui!

It abandoned its intercepted dog bed and made a detour, planning to charge straight into the master bedroom.

Chi Gui was quick—he grabbed the scruff of the puppy’s neck and dragged it back without mercy. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Woof!”

I insist on yes!

“No.”

“Woof!”

Yes!

Jing Shun came out of the bathroom in his wheelchair and saw the “standoff” between the man and the dog. He couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you two doing?”

The puppy spun around, racing to Jing Shun’s side before Chi Gui could stop it. It whined and yelped nonstop, as if it had suffered a terrible injustice.

“Waaah~”

“Alright, alright, what’s wrong with our baby?”

Jing Shun rubbed the puppy’s big head while looking at Chi Gui, who stood outside the master bedroom’s sliding door. “Were you two just arguing?”

Chi Gui composed himself and denied it. “No. Why would I argue with a dog?”

Jing Shun didn’t believe him. “Chi Gui, don’t fight with the dog.”

“…”

Chi Gui let out a subtle sigh and moved closer to him. “That pitiful, wronged look is all an act. You’re just too softhearted.”

He knew it—he never should have picked this dog if it was going to act like a green tea drama queen.

“Mmm~”

The puppy adjusted its position, resting its big head on Jing Shun’s lap. It made a point of turning its back to Chi Gui and wagging its tail twice in triumph.

Chi Gui raised an eyebrow.

He leaned down beside the wheelchair, scooped Jing Shun up in his arms without a word, and headed straight into the master bedroom.

The puppy panicked and abandoned its plan to drag the dog bed along.

It chased after them like a little shadow, jumped onto the foot of the bed, and paced in circles anxiously.

“Arf woof!”

Jing Shun was about to turn his head and look at his still-pouting puppy.

“Jing Shun.”

Chi Gui immediately cupped his lover’s chin, refusing to let him turn around. “Ignore it. Letting it onto the master bedroom bed is already my bottom line.”

Even though his original bottom line had been to keep the puppy in the yard and not even allow it in the house.

Jing Shun suppressed a smile. “Alright.”

Soon, the two of them lay down together.

Jing Shun casually asked, “Chi Gui, why didn’t you like dogs at first? I felt like you were pretty resistant.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them.”

Chi Gui figured Jing Shun would eventually see the scar anyway, so he thought for a moment, then simply opened the front of his robe. “Just… a little childhood trauma.”

“…”

Before Jing Shun could even blush, his eyes landed on the long scar on Chi Gui’s left shoulder. Even after so many years, the old scar was still shocking to see.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how severe the wound had been at the time.

Jing Shun’s gaze filled with sympathy. He pressed further, “Was it a dog bite? How did it get so bad?”

“Yeah. A rabid dog from a village in the countryside.”

Chi Gui laid out that long-buried shadow of his past calmly before Jing Shun. “I was about seven then? Just started elementary school. I got first in my grade on the exams.”

“My grandpa wanted to reward me for studying hard, so he ordered a pork hock from the village butcher. Said he’d stew it for me.”

Song’s grandparents didn’t have much money to spare. For young Chi Gui, getting such a big piece of meat was a rare treat.

With the old couple’s permission, he happily went to pick up the pork hock himself, then skipped all the way back.

The skin had been scorched to remove the hairs, giving it a smoky, meaty fragrance.

And then, out of sheer bad luck, Chi Gui ran into two large strays on the way.

“A lot of village dogs are free-roaming. They don’t necessarily have owners feeding them. Sometimes they go hungry for days, and when they’re really starving, they get vicious.”

“I wasn’t on guard. The two rabid dogs pounced from behind. One pinned me down while the other bit at the meat in my hands to snatch it.”

“I was stubborn by nature. How could I let go of that hard-earned food? Plus, I was young—I was afraid my grandpa would scold me if I lost the pork hock he’d paid for.”

Chi Gui clung to it tightly, trying to kick and punch the two dogs. But animals have their own temper—push them too far, and biting becomes inevitable. Once they smell blood, their wildness only intensifies.

“Luckily, an uncle from the same village passed by and saw what was happening. He chased the dogs away with a shovel, then called my grandparents. They took me to the hospital on their little electric tricycle.”

The injury on Chi Gui’s shoulder wasn’t just a simple puncture wound—it was torn open by the dog’s bite. The blood wouldn’t stop flowing the whole way. The doctor on duty was even startled, thinking Chi Gui might lose his right shoulder.

Jing Shun’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper, a pang of delayed sympathy hitting him twenty years later.

He gently touched the scar on Chi Gui’s shoulder. “It must have hurt so much, right?”

Chi Gui covered his lover’s hand with his own and reassured him, “It’s okay. It’s been so many years—I can’t even remember the pain anymore.”

“But I still feel a little regret, even now.”

“Regret about what?”

“My grandparents were in such a hurry to get me to the county hospital that the pork hock got lost somewhere. I never did get to eat it in the end.”

Jing Shun paused for two seconds, then laughed in Chi Gui’s arms.

Seeing his lover happy, Chi Gui laid it all out to make him laugh more. “During my recovery, what I dreamed about most wasn’t those two vicious dogs—it was that missing pork hock. I was always wondering what it would have tasted like.”

But the medical bills had cost a lot. The Song grandparents even had to borrow money from the villagers. Chi Gui had always been sensible, so he never brought it up in front of them again.

Jing Shun imagined Chi Gui as a child. “So even you had cravings when you were little?”

Chi Gui countered, “Didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Jing Shun said it without thinking, a certain figure surfacing in his mind—

When he was little, what he craved the most was the food Xu Jia made.

Every time he finished a scene on set, he would eagerly open his little lunchbox, filled with perfectly balanced dishes and fruit, fragrant and delicious.

Chi Gui noticed Jing Shun’s distraction. “What are you thinking about?”

“Hm? I was thinking—”

Jing Shun snapped back, a mischievous glint in his smiling eyes. “Let’s have braised pork hock tomorrow? I want some too.”

Chi Gui chuckled and pinched his earlobe. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Little Chi Gui at seven never got to eat it.”

Jing Shun tilted his head and nuzzled against Chi Gui’s palm, every word full of sincerity, as if making up for Chi Gui’s childhood. “Let’s try it for him, okay?”

Chi Gui leaned down slightly and kissed the person in his arms. “Okay.”

…

Mid-October, the character Yan Zijing that Jing Shun played in Traces finally made his debut.

Thanks to the drama’s high topic engagement, Jing Shun’s character quickly gained traction and even made a small splash on the trending list—

“Ahhh, Yan Zijing’s face! I’m sold!”

“Isn’t this character also in a wheelchair? Did the production team tailor-make it for Jing Shun? Everything about him fits so perfectly!”

“Serious discussion: The kitten that Yan Zijing rescued—its four legs were all injured, right? Is it possible that he actually tortured the kitten himself?”

“Whoa! No way!”

“Is Yan Zijing officially a villain? He’s already disabled himself—maybe he’s psychologically twisted and deranged!”

“…”

Jing Shun scrolled through his phone with interest, browsing through the netizens’ various discussions.

Yan Zijing was a villain, but not purely evil.

He carried many complex contradictions that could only be revealed as the plot deepened.

Jing Shun wasn’t about to spoil anything online. He just kept scrolling through the comments:

“Am I the only one who thinks Jing Shun’s acting is really good? His eye acting has so much depth!”

“Same! I feel like he’s always been great at acting, even as a kid.”

“Will Jing Shun ever be able to walk again? I really want to see him stand up and act in more shows!”

“…”

Could he? Yes.

Jing Shun’s gaze lingered on that post. At the same time, the rehabilitation therapist’s voice came from beside him. “Mr. Jing, have you rested enough? Want to do another lap?”

“Sure.”

Jing Shun put his phone away and took the crutches handed to him. With one easy motion, he stood up steadily.

His recovery had always exceeded expectations. Even without the therapist’s support, he could now walk quite steadily with just the crutches.

Time ticked by.

Chi Gui finished work and pushed the door open. Jing Shun had just completed his last lap.

Their eyes met from a few meters apart.

Jing Shun immediately said, “Chi Gui, don’t move! I’ll walk over!”

“Okay.”

Chi Gui obediently stayed put, waiting for him.

Jing Shun leaned on his crutches and stepped closer to his lover step by step. Even though the rehab process drained his energy, his eyes still shone with happiness.

The distance between them shrank.

Jing Shun smiled. “Chi Gui, how did I do?”

Chi Gui praised him. “Amazing.”

The therapist stepped forward with a smile. “At Mr. Jing’s recovery rate, he won’t even need crutches soon.”

Chi Gui was in a good mood. “Thanks for the good word. Let’s call it a day for now. You’ve worked hard.”

“Of course.”

…

Half an hour later, Jing Shun came out of the bathroom.

Chi Gui pushed the wheelchair over to him and said gently, “We need to balance work and rest.”

“Okay.”

Jing Shun sat back down in the wheelchair, tilting his head in an unconscious act of affection. “I’m so hungry.”

Chi Gui pinched his earlobe and responded, “Let’s go get dinner now. Then when we come back, I’ll watch the latest two episodes of Traces with you, okay?”

Jing Shun nodded. “Mm.”

The next second, his phone vibrated with a message notification.

Jing Shun pulled out his phone and glanced at the sender’s name. The moment he saw it, the smile on his lips froze, and his face showed a faint, awkward surprise.

Chi Gui noticed his lover’s change in mood. “What’s wrong?”

“…”

Jing Shun didn’t know how to answer. He simply turned the screen toward Chi Gui.

The contact name on the message was both unfamiliar and familiar: Mom.

Unexpectedly, Xu Jia had taken the initiative to send Jing Shun a message:

“Xiao Shun, are you free recently? Mom wants to see you.”