Ren Yi washed his face and rinsed his mouth several times before finally getting all the dry chemical powder out of his nose and mouth.
The powder had low toxicity, and swallowing a little wouldn’t do much harm. Yet he still felt as though he’d been poisoned. He was having trouble breathing, as if something were lodged in his throat, neither going down nor coming up, leaving him so stifled that his head hurt.
Bracing both hands against the sink, he stared at his wet face in the mirror. His limp hair hung in strands against his cheeks, and he looked as listless as its owner.
My hair’s gotten so long. It’s time for a haircut.
Ren Yi thought to himself.
Perhaps because he hadn’t really looked at himself in the mirror for a long time, he only now noticed that his appearance had changed somewhat.
The first thing his father would probably have said upon seeing him was, “Why have you lost weight again?” Ren Yi had already prepared an explanation, but he hadn’t expected his father not to ask him anything at all—not even to remember who he was.
His father had been ill for years. Ren Yi wasn’t without psychological preparation for the day his condition deteriorated beyond his control. But every time he witnessed it, he felt the pain all over again. Without exception.
Another figure appeared in the mirror, meeting Ren Yi’s gaze through the reflection.
Gong Yingxian looked at him with concern and handed him a bottle of mineral water.
“Feeling better? Do you need to go to the hospital and have your stomach pumped?”
“It’s not that serious.” Ren Yi took the water and drank a mouthful. “What about my dad?”
“He’s fine. The doctor gave him a mild sedative.”
Ren Yi lowered his head and slowly regulated his breathing.
“I could arrange for Captain Ren to receive—”
“No need.” Ren Yi stopped him. “Don’t say anything more.”
Looking at Ren Yi’s exhausted face in the mirror, Gong Yingxian’s heart ached. He walked over and gently ran his large hand along Ren Yi’s spine.
“It’s so hard to take care of a sick person alone. I really want to help you.”
Ren Yi silently shook his head. Thinking back carefully, the easiest and most comfortable period he’d spent with his father since the illness began had been when his father was staying at Gong Yingxian’s private hospital. But he also knew that, both professionally and personally, he could no longer accept such help.
What’s so hard about it? How can anyone live without hardship? At least I still have my father.
Ren Yi got up, intending to move away from Gong Yingxian, but Gong Yingxian suddenly pulled him into his arms.
It was an embrace he hadn’t experienced in so long. The familiar, broad chest, the warm scent, the overwhelming strength—all of it made Ren Yi lose himself for a moment.
He should have pushed Gong Yingxian away. But he realized that right now, he really wanted a hug.
Gong Yingxian’s voice was hoarse.
“I want so badly to help you. I want to solve all your problems and make sure you never have to worry about anything again. But you never come to me for help. You shoulder everything on your own. Why can’t you just be an ordinary… ordinary person?”
“…I am an ordinary person. Ordinary people have to solve their own problems.”
“But I want you to be able to rely on me.”
Ren Yi desperately wanted to ask, Can I really rely on you? But he held the words back and sighed softly.
“I need to go check on my dad.”
Gong Yingxian reluctantly released him.
Ren Yi turned to leave, but Gong Yingxian caught his hand again.
“Wait.”
As he spoke, he carefully brushed the dry chemical powder from Ren Yi’s hair with his fingers.
The two stood facing each other, their warm, slightly ticklish breaths washing over one another’s faces. Whether intentionally or not, Gong Yingxian’s lips came close to brushing the tip of Ren Yi’s nose several times.
Just as Ren Yi was feeling a little dazed, Gong Yingxian suddenly lowered his head and kissed the tiny mole on the bridge of Ren Yi’s nose.
Considering that the two of them had already done all kinds of intimate and embarrassing things together, a restrained kiss like this shouldn’t have been enough to make either of them lose their composure.
And yet Ren Yi couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.
He stepped back, passed Gong Yingxian, and walked away.
Gong Yingxian looked down at his empty hands, feeling utterly bereft. So this was what it meant to be fortunate enough to embrace the person you wanted to hold whenever you wished. It was a privilege that could never be taken for granted.
The sedative the doctor had given Ren Xiangrong was in a very low dose. He hadn’t fallen asleep; he’d simply calmed down from his agitated and anxious state. Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, muttering to himself.
Ren Yi sat silently beside the bed, looking at his father. His eyes were full of melancholy, but he had nothing to say.
Gong Yingxian found a chair and sat beside Ren Yi, keeping him company in silence.
After a long while, Ren Yi finally spoke.
“When my dad was young, he was just like me. Everyone said we were alike, father and son. Our looks, our tempers, our experiences… We were so alike.”
Ren Yi spoke softly.
“My dad used to be just as healthy and strong as I am. Whenever he went into a burning building, he was always the first one in. He never hesitated to risk his life to save people. He saved countless lives throughout his career and earned countless honors. But just when it was time for him to enjoy his retirement, he fell ill. It came completely out of nowhere.”
Gong Yingxian looked at Ren Yi, his heart aching as though it were being squeezed.
“My dad imagined his retirement countless times. He’d talk about what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go on road trips, and how he wanted to visit all the places he’d never had the chance to see because he’d spent so many years stationed at the firehouse. But then…” Ren Yi’s voice gradually grew choked with emotion. “I just don’t understand. Why wouldn’t Heaven show some kindness to someone like my dad? Back then, I was filled with resentment.”
He paused, struggling to continue.
“Someone who seemed to have an endless supply of energy was suddenly shackled by illness. He couldn’t even go downstairs without someone helping him. It was much harder on him than it was on me, but he never complained in front of me. He always said…” Ren Yi’s voice caught for a moment. “He said that being able to retire with his body and mind still intact was already a blessing.”
Gong Yingxian comforted him gently. “Your former captain has seen so much of life and death. He’s more open-minded than you realize.”
Ren Yi took his father’s hand and held it gently.
“Do you know that this illness has a certain hereditary risk?”
Gong Yingxian immediately replied, “Don’t worry. The probability is very low, and there are already ways to screen for it early and take preventive measures. Besides, medical science will have advanced to an entirely different level thirty years from now.”
Of course, he knew. Ever since he’d learned about Ren Xiangrong’s illness, he’d started adjusting the research priorities at his hospital. Previously, the hospital had focused primarily on cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases—conditions with high mortality and disability rates, such as heart attacks, cerebral infarctions, and strokes. Alzheimer’s disease had been only one part of that research.
Starting this year, he’d increased the budget for Alzheimer’s research by an additional thirty percent. He was collaborating with top institutions both in China and abroad, redirecting half the hospital’s resources toward this field.
He would never allow Ren Yi to suffer through the same pain.
“I’m not worried about something thirty years from now. I’m just… having a hard time today.”
Ren Yi held Ren Xiangrong’s hand. It was covered in all kinds of scars—burns, scalds, injuries from collisions and crushing impacts, and chemical corrosion. The skin was rough, and the fingers had become somewhat deformed.
These were hands that had entrusted lives to their care, hands laden with honor.
Gong Yingxian reached out and pressed his palm against Ren Yi’s warm cheek.
“No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side.”
Ren Yi fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
“Yingxian, in my profession, the thing we fear most is having an unsettled mind. When we’re on the battlefield, if we can’t focus on anything else, something can easily go wrong.”
Gong Yingxian realized what Ren Yi was about to say. He knew it wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear, but he could only brace himself and listen.
“But right now, my mind is full of you. Full of all the complications between us. One moment, I think about all the good things you’ve done; the next, I think about all the bad things. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t want you to hurt me, either. I don’t know how we’re supposed to move forward, and yet you keep pressing closer and closer.”
Both Ren Yi’s expression and his voice were extraordinarily calm, like the surface of a pond beneath the warm early-spring sun, undisturbed by even the slightest breeze. It was as though everything had been quietly accumulating throughout the winter, waiting for this moment to melt the ice in complete stillness, without creating even a single ripple.
“When I said I wanted some time to calm down, I wasn’t trying to run away. I really do want to… clear my head. But you keep showing up in front of me, and I can’t calm down.”
Gong Yingxian’s heart and lungs hurt so badly that he forgot how to breathe—or perhaps had temporarily lost the ability to do so. He stared blankly at Ren Yi, his eyes gradually growing moist.
“I’m about to leave for a full-time study program. Six months. I’m going back to the Armed Police University to finish my master’s degree. The unit arranged it, and it’s also giving me a cooling-off period. I haven’t been abandoned yet, and I’m already grateful for that.”
Ren Yi looked deep into Gong Yingxian’s eyes.
“During this time, can we please… not see each other for a while?”
Gong Yingxian’s tears hung at the edge of his eyes, poised to fall but refusing to spill over.
Those crystalline tears were like a light far too bright in the darkness, so dazzling that Ren Yi could barely keep his eyes open. His heart ached so much that he didn’t know what to do. He even wanted to take back every word he’d just said, one by one.
But he knew all too well that the obstacle between him and Gong Yingxian had grown rapidly, like a wall rising higher and higher against the wind.
In the past, he would have climbed over a mountain if he had to. But now, he was afraid. He feared that after climbing one mountain, another would be waiting, and that everything he had sacrificed would ultimately have been in vain.
Gong Yingxian asked with a slight tremble in his voice, “Is this what you want?”
“This is what we need,” Ren Yi replied. “I’m more mature than you are when it comes to relationships. If I acted on impulse, too, without considering the consequences, we might end up destroying each other.”
Gong Yingxian endured the agony as though his heart were being carved out, then managed to nod.
“All right.”
Ren Yi turned his face away.
“Then… can I still send you messages?”
“…Yes.”
“Then when will I be able to see you again?”
“When I’m ready to face you.”
Gong Yingxian desperately wanted to press him for an answer. When exactly will that be? But he didn’t ask.
Ren Yi steeled himself and said, “You should go home. I want to stay here and keep watch tonight.”
Gong Yingxian slowly stood up. He remained motionless for a moment, then bent down and pressed a kiss to Ren Yi’s lips.
In a quiet voice, he said, “I like you. I love you. I wouldn’t hesitate to die for you. Please don’t give up on me.”
Ren Yi unconsciously reached out. It seemed he was about to grab Gong Yingxian’s clothes, but he quickly came to his senses and instead pressed his palm against Gong Yingxian’s heart.
This vigorous, beating heart… Is it beating only for me right now?
Ren Yi patted him over the heart.
“Take care of yourself.”
Gong Yingxian straightened up and left.
The moment Ren Yi heard the door close, tears surged from his eyes.
He suddenly remembered the warning Qiu Yan had once given him.
Had he been an irresponsible “adult”?
But that “child” was both innocent and cruel.