When Qi Ji received Qi Mingyu’s call, he had just finished working overtime on Saturday morning. With the Lunar New Year approaching, the design department also had year-end accounts to wrap up. Still, compared to finance, they were already much more relaxed—at least they weren’t pulling endless all-nighters.
Qi Mingyu was calling to ask how Qi Ji planned to spend Spring Festival. After all, this was their first year without debt. Bringing up the holidays again felt lighter somehow.
Qi Ji joked, “Isn’t it still a few days away? Why ask so early—are you angling for a New Year’s gift?”
“Who wants a gift? I’m not a kid anymore,” Qi Mingyu denied it. Then he said, “It was Grandma Yu who asked. She wants to invite us over for the holidays. Eric’s still in the country too, so if everyone gets together, it’ll be livelier for Spring Festival.”
The smile on Qi Ji’s face faded slightly. He didn’t agree right away. “Let me check the company’s holiday schedule first.”
“Oh, Mingyu,” he added, “are you free this afternoon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Let’s go to Guihe City. I’ll buy you a few things.”
Even though he’d said it jokingly earlier, Qi Ji genuinely wanted to get his brother something—at the very least, some new clothes. Qi Mingyu usually wore a school uniform, and aside from tuition, he never asked Qi Ji for anything. Now that their debts were finally gone and Qi Ji had a bit more breathing room, it felt right to get his brother some new outfits.
Qi Mingyu wasn’t exactly eager. “Why do we need to go somewhere that expensive just to buy stuff?”
Before he could refuse, Qi Ji made the call. “It’s settled. Guihe City in half an hour.”
Guihe City was a large upscale mall, mostly filled with high-end brands and price tags to match—not exactly a student hangout. On top of that, Qi Ji had been busy with part-time work before and hadn’t really come shopping here.
That said, he’d done some freelance advertising work and had learned a bit about menswear brands. Qi Mingyu was tall and slim, the kind of build that made clothes look good, so picking things out went smoothly.
In under an hour, they’d chosen two outfits: one formal, one casual—both things Qi Mingyu would actually need soon.
Qi Mingyu wasn’t interested in clothes at all. If Qi Ji hadn’t insisted—saying it wasn’t great that he kept borrowing classmates’ suits for formal events—he wouldn’t even have come to the mall.
The only thing Qi Mingyu actively wanted to buy was a wrist brace. Passing a sports brand store, he dragged Qi Ji inside and picked one out.
Qi Ji thought it was for playing sports and was even considering getting him new sneakers. But after Qi Mingyu grabbed the slip from the counter, he pulled Qi Ji away. “Why are you buying me shoes? This is for you.”
Qi Ji blinked. “For me?”
“For when you’re at the computer,” Qi Mingyu said, still sounding impatient. “Didn’t you say your wrist’s been hurting lately? Come on, hurry up and pay.”
Qi Ji was startled. He’d only mentioned it in passing—he hadn’t expected his brother to remember.
After a moment, he decided to put what he’d learned about being open into practice. “Thanks, Mingyu.”
Qi Mingyu clicked his tongue. “Why are you thanking me? Let’s go.”
They headed to the central checkout with their clothes and wrist brace slips. Qi Ji followed half a step behind, watching him, then said in surprise, “Mingyu, your ears are red.”
Qi Mingyu nearly threw the wrist brace slip. “I’m not buying it anymore!”
Qi Ji laughed and grabbed him. “Okay, okay. I won’t say anything.”
When Qi Mingyu blushed, he reacted exactly the same way Qi Ji did himself.
They finally made it to the checkout—and ran into a small hiccup. Qi Ji was about to scan the code to pay when Qi Mingyu pulled out his phone.
“I’ll pay. I still have my scholarship from last semester.”
Qi Ji laughed and tapped him lightly on the back with one of the long balloon sticks by the counter. “Scholarship? Your scholarship goes straight into my account. What scholarship do you think you have?”
Qi Mingyu was about to argue when the cashier asked carefully, “Excuse me, which one of you is Mr. Qi?”
Qi Ji looked up. “What’s wrong?”
The staff member explained, “We’re running a prize draw at the mall. The top prize is fifty thousand yuan in shopping credit, usable across the entire mall. Our system just showed that the phone number ending in XXXX, registered to Mr. Qi, won the grand prize. I’m here to notify you.”
Qi Ji stared. “I won?”
The number matched his phone.
The staff member smiled and nodded. “Yes. Congratulations.”
He took out ten five-thousand-yuan mall gift cards, placed them in a shopping bag, and handed them to Qi Ji. “Please confirm your phone number for us. These gift cards are valid from B2 to the 8th floor, across the entire mall, for one full year. Please keep them safe.”
Qi Ji took the cards. They were genuine Guihe City gift cards, with “usable mall-wide” printed clearly on the back.
The mall was decorated with banners and festive displays everywhere, overflowing with a celebratory atmosphere. Qi Ji hadn’t visited often before, and he definitely hadn’t expected such luck on his first trip.
Fifty thousand.
That was enough to buy a lot of clothes.
Qi Mingyu, however, frowned. “What kind of promotion is this?”
He wasn’t being paranoid. Most mall promotions offered small gifts or discount coupons—who just handed out gift cards worth that much? And with such a big prize, no one was taking photos or doing publicity? Something felt off.
He asked, “When did we even participate in this?”
The staff member pointed to Qi Ji’s phone and explained patiently, “The draw randomly selects phone numbers. As long as you connect to the mall’s free Wi-Fi, you’re automatically entered.”
The explanation sounded reasonable, but Qi Mingyu still found it hard to believe.
Fifty thousand yuan.
…It looked suspiciously like a reward someone had arranged in advance.
Just as Qi Mingyu was wondering whether he should check if Guihe City’s parent company happened to be owned by someone surnamed Pei, Qi Ji voiced his own doubt. “But when I connected to the Wi-Fi, I didn’t enter my name.”
“It’s real-name registration, sir,” the staff member said. “We can see your surname.”
Not wanting to make a scene, Qi Mingyu used the gift cards to pay for their purchases, then pulled Qi Ji away. “You just got lucky. Let’s go get the clothes.”
At the words “got lucky,” Qi Ji paused before saying quietly, “My luck… isn’t really that good.”
Luck was something Qi Ji had never dared to hope for.
From being separated from his family as a child, to debt and later upheavals, he always felt at fault somehow. He’d learned to wear a mask of obedience and kept his distance even from kindness—this was why.
Wasn’t it the same with his feelings for Mr. Pei?
Qi Ji always felt that whenever he got close to someone, they ended up dragged into bad luck because of him.
…So he’d only ever thought of his name as meaning “dependent on others,” never as something miraculous.
Even today, when he hadn’t immediately accepted Grandma Yu’s invitation to spend the holidays together, that thought played a part.
Though he didn’t say anything, his mood clearly dipped. Seeing this, Qi Mingyu didn’t press him, just dragged him along to keep shopping.
“Fifty thousand—might as well use it. Not spending it would be a waste.”
They hadn’t eaten lunch yet. Originally they’d planned to head home after shopping, but with the gift cards, they stayed and ate in the mall. Afterward, they continued browsing. Qi Ji felt a little better, and Qi Mingyu asked again, “So, are we going to Grandma Yu’s for New Year’s?”
Qi Ji still hesitated. “Would we be imposing?”
“Probably not,” Qi Mingyu said. “Grandma Yu said Uncle Xue and his partner will be there. Eric’s wife and daughter too. There’ll be a lot of people—we can count down together.”
Seeing Qi Ji still undecided, he added, “No rush anyway. There are still a few days. Let’s think about it and tell Grandma Yu in a couple of days.”
Qi Ji nodded. “Okay. I’ll also wait to see the company’s holiday schedule.”
After that, Qi Mingyu went to try on shoes. Qi Ji still insisted on buying him sneakers. While Qi Mingyu was changing, Qi Ji sent Pei Yusheng a message.
He wanted to ask about his Spring Festival plans.
Since this was a “trial period,” Qi Ji thought it was better to ask.
But even after Qi Mingyu had picked out his shoes, Pei Yusheng still hadn’t replied. Qi Ji didn’t think much of it—he was probably in a meeting. It was year-end, after all. Besides, Qi Ji could roughly guess Pei Yusheng’s plans. He’d probably be spending the holidays with family.
So Qi Ji put his phone away and stopped waiting.
By the time they’d made another round of the mall, it was almost four. Just as they were heading to the B1 supermarket, Qi Ji’s phone rang again.
Qi Mingyu, who was about to ask what they should have for dinner, went quiet.
He had a bad feeling—like someone was about to steal his brother away again.
This call, however, was far beyond what he’d expected. Just hearing the first sentence, Qi Ji’s face drained of color.
The call was from Dr. Zhao. His words were brief—and urgent.
Pei Yusheng had collapsed.
For a moment, Qi Ji couldn’t even react. He’d just been thinking about how he brought bad luck to the people close to him—and now this.
It was Qi Mingyu’s voice that snapped him back.
“Brother? Brother!” Hands pressed on his shoulders, steadying him. Qi Mingyu’s voice came back into focus. “Calm down. What happened? Where do you need to go?”
Qi Ji swayed slightly, then forced out a destination.
“Huashan Hospital.”
Qi Mingyu hailed the taxi. Qi Ji was distracted the whole way. After getting out at the hospital, he realized his brother was still with him.
“I’ll take the stuff home first,” Qi Mingyu said. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll come get you.”
Qi Ji forced a smile. “No need. I’ll bike back later.”
Qi Mingyu didn’t argue. “Go on, then. Be careful.”
Qi Ji nodded vaguely and turned toward the hospital. In the bitter winter cold, that bone-deep chill returned, freezing his hands and feet, making him shiver uncontrollably.
On the phone, they’d said Pei Yusheng had collapsed from exhaustion—overwork, his back injury, and insomnia piling up all at once. Beyond that, Dr. Zhao had hesitated, saying he wanted Qi Ji to come in person to talk.
Just the tone of his voice spelled trouble.
Qi Ji’s heart sank, over and over.
Qi Ji had actually been carrying one unanswered question in his heart all this time.
He didn’t know why Pei Yusheng’s insomnia was so severe. Before, Qi Ji had mistakenly assumed it was the trauma of losing a comrade-in-arms, but Wen Chuming’s appearance had completely ruled out that possibility. And even now, Qi Ji only knew that his presence could ease Pei Yusheng’s insomnia—he still didn’t know the true cause.
This sudden fainting episode cast a heavy shadow of worry over Qi Ji’s heart.
Lost in anxious speculation, he quickened his steps toward the floor where Dr. Zhao was. But just as he stepped into the elevator, his phone chimed.
A notification.
At a moment like this, Qi Ji didn’t dare miss any message. He opened his phone immediately—only to freeze at what he saw.
It was a message from Pei Yusheng.
【No plans for the New Year for now. Will you be staying in S City?】
There was another one.
【Coming home tonight?】
Qi Ji was stunned.
Wasn’t Mr. Pei supposed to be unconscious? Who sent this?
The elevator doors opened. He followed the room numbers down the hallway, but after only a few steps, he ran straight into a man he knew all too well.
“Mr. Pei?!” Qi Ji blurted out in shock. “Why are you out here… are you—are you okay?”
The man in front of him was dressed in a perfectly tailored bespoke suit, no different from his usual self. Aside from a trace of fatigue lingering between his brows, there was no sign of illness on that handsome face. If no one mentioned it, no one would ever think he was a patient.
“I’m fine.” The man seemed equally surprised to see him. “Why are you here?”
Qi Ji carefully looked him up and down. Only after confirming that he really seemed fine did he finally let out a breath of relief.
“Dr. Zhao just called me,” Qi Ji said. “He said you fainted.”
Pei Yusheng frowned slightly in disapproval. “Why would he tell you?”
But seeing the worry plainly written on the boy’s face, he softened his tone anyway. “It’s nothing. The wound hasn’t fully healed, and work’s been busy. Just a small accident. Don’t worry.”
“Is the injury still serious?” Qi Ji asked nervously.
Pei Yusheng raised a hand and ruffled his hair. “Not serious. The dressing’s already been changed.”
As they were speaking, Zhao Mingzhen came out as well. He greeted Qi Ji first, then said, “Second Young Master, it would really be better if you did a full checkup. Aunt Xu reminded us before she went to B City—told you to take care of your health…”
“I’ll do it after these meetings,” Pei Yusheng replied flatly.
Faced with his lack of cooperation, Zhao Mingzhen could only sigh and drop the matter. Turning to Qi Ji instead, he said, “Xiao Qi, come with me. I’ll take you for a checkup.”
Qi Ji froze, pointing at himself. “Me?”
Zhao Mingzhen nodded. “A routine check for drug residue. It’s simple. I’ve got time right now—half an hour at most.”
Qi Ji was already used to checkups and didn’t question it further. Still, he was worried about Pei Yusheng. “Is Mr. Pei’s exam more complicated? Can’t it be done now?”
“It’s not complicated,” Zhao Mingzhen said, glancing at Pei Yusheng. “Also about half an hour. You can finish together and go home at the same time.”
Pei Yusheng: “……”
Qi Ji hesitated. “But doesn’t Mr. Pei need to hurry back for meetings? Can it really be delayed another half hour?”
The man who’d been insisting on going back to work finally relented. “It can.”
He reached out and stroked Qi Ji’s soft hair again. “We’ll go back together later.”
Qi Ji nodded. “Okay.”
Pei Yusheng’s comprehensive exam required another floor, so a nurse led him away. Qi Ji stayed behind with Zhao Mingzhen.
What Qi Ji didn’t expect, though, was that Dr. Zhao didn’t take him to an examination room at all.
Because he disliked the smell of disinfectant, Qi Ji rarely came to hospitals, but he’d done several checkups at rehabilitation centers before and could at least recognize medical equipment. Being led straight into an office this time made him uneasy.
And as he followed Zhao Mingzhen inside, Qi Ji caught a glimpse of sweat beading faintly at the back of the doctor’s neck.
Was he shaken by Mr. Pei’s collapse earlier? Qi Ji was still thinking when Zhao Mingzhen pulled out a chair for him and gestured for him to sit, then took the seat across from him.
This didn’t look like a checkup at all.
“Aren’t we doing an exam?” Qi Ji asked.
Zhao Mingzhen forced a smile. “The exam can wait. Xiao Qi… I asked you to come today because there’s something I need to tell you.”
He paused. “After all, you’re the most effective support in Second Young Master’s treatment.”
Qi Ji was surprised, but more than that, he was unsettled by Dr. Zhao’s unusual gravity.
Thinking back to the tone of that phone call, the unease he’d just managed to suppress rose again. “What is it?”
“This sudden fainting episode,” Zhao Mingzhen said, “aside from the injury and overwork, is likely still related to his insomnia. How has his sleep been lately? I noticed he didn’t send in his sleep log yesterday.”
“There hasn’t been anything unusual recently,” Qi Ji replied. “As for last night, Mr. Pei was busy with work and didn’t go home, so he probably didn’t rest well.”
He added proactively, “I’ll go to Rose Villa today and make sure he gets proper rest.”
But even after hearing that, there was still little relief on Zhao Mingzhen’s face.
A vague sense of dread crept into Qi Ji’s chest.
Zhao Mingzhen took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses before putting them back on. At last, he seemed to make up his mind.
“Xiao Qi,” he said, “I think this is something you need to know.”
“We’ve been studying Second Young Master’s sleep disorder for a long time, but progress has been limited. The most effective treatment so far has been your companionship.” He spoke slowly. “Some time ago, we conducted an exchange with our counterpart hospital in Moscow. In their archives, we found a special case from decades ago—along with a test report and a preserved brain tissue sample.”
Qi Ji didn’t understand why Dr. Zhao suddenly brought this up, but he listened carefully. “What kind of case?”
Zhao Mingzhen fell silent again before answering. “That patient died from an extremely rare disease called fatal familial insomnia.”
Qi Ji’s heart jolted.
Fatal… insomnia?
The name stabbed straight into his deepest fear.
“Fatal familial insomnia is a hereditary neurodegenerative disease,” Zhao Mingzhen continued. “Once it manifests, the patient becomes completely unable to sleep. This state lasts anywhere from three months to about a year, after which the patient dies amid severe psychological collapse.”
As he spoke, his voice grew dry and strained.
“The inheritance rate among close relatives is extremely high. As of now… there is no effective treatment.”
Every word rang clearly in Qi Ji’s ears, yet instinctively he refused to connect such a cruel illness to the person beside him.
Completely unable to sleep… no, that wasn’t it. It couldn’t be.
But what Zhao Mingzhen said next shattered his last line of defense.
“Testing for fatal familial insomnia isn’t yet fully mature and requires repeated verification. We haven’t done this test on Second Young Master yet. But…”
Even after all his mental preparation, Zhao Mingzhen still found it painfully hard to say.
“But the patient in Moscow… was Second Young Master’s grandfather’s younger brother.”
Close-relative inheritance.
Qi Ji was speechless.
Those four words burned into his mind like red-hot iron.
And the merciless explanation continued.
“Second Young Master’s great-grandfather also died because of this. Medical standards at the time weren’t sufficient, so it was diagnosed as a sudden illness. Looking back now, he fits the symptoms as well.”
Zhao Mingzhen said, “Aside from those two deceased elders, we still can’t confirm the full inheritance pattern in the Pei family. Second Young Master’s grandfather never showed insomnia symptoms, and the deceased great-uncle had no descendants. So the key people who need testing now may be Second Young Master and his father.”
Qi Ji’s ears rang, his vision swimming.
He still refused to accept it. “But Mr. Pei’s insomnia isn’t complete sleeplessness. He can still sleep…”
Zhao Mingzhen softened his voice. “The average onset age for this disease is between thirty and fifty.”
Pei Yusheng hadn’t reached that age yet.
So his current symptoms couldn’t rule anything out.
The room fell silent.
After a long time, Qi Ji finally found his voice. “But it’s still just a hypothesis, right? The tests haven’t been done yet. You can’t turn a possibility into a conclusion. Even if the inheritance rate is high, Mr. Pei’s grandfather was perfectly healthy…”
Zhao Mingzhen gave a strained smile. “Yes. We still need to test.”
Qi Ji clung to that answer, forcing himself to believe it. Yet despite the reassurance, he couldn’t stop staring at the doctor.
He sensed there was more.
Sure enough, after another pause, Zhao Mingzhen spoke again, voice heavy. “However, Second Young Master’s grandfather never experienced sleep disorders in all those years.”
“But Second Young Master and his father…” His voice grew softer and softer. “They both developed severe insomnia from a young age.”
“Just like that great-uncle who fell ill.”
The words were barely audible, yet they pierced Qi Ji like needles, one after another.
As despair surged over him like a tidal wave, Qi Ji suddenly began to hate himself.
He had always known he brought misfortune with him.
So why did he still get close to Mr. Pei?
Why?