Chapter 5

Around noon, Lu Pingzhang gave Xiao Chang a call.

The phone barely rang once before it was picked up. “President Lu Pingzhang.”

Lu Pingzhang’s voice was calm as always, devoid of emotion: “Has Qiao Jin contacted you?”

“He has,” Xiao Chang replied. “He asked me to pick him up from the hospital this afternoon.”

Although Xiao Chang was Lu Pingzhang’s personal driver, he actually spent more time driving Qiao Jin around.

But that was only when Lu Pingzhang was in town—President Lu Pingzhang didn’t like Qiao Jin driving himself all over the place.

When Lu Pingzhang was away on business, Qiao Jin usually wouldn’t ask Xiao Chang for a ride. He seemed to get carsick and also preferred being alone.

There was a short silence. Then Lu Pingzhang said, “Go ahead. If he asks you anything this afternoon, use your judgment—know what to say and what not to. If you don’t know, find the answer for him afterward.”

“Got it, President Lu Pingzhang,” Xiao Chang said.

There was a faint click—Lu Pingzhang seemed to light a cigarette. His voice deepened slightly: “If he gives you something, just take it.”

Xiao Chang was a little confused but still replied, “Understood, President Lu Pingzhang.”

Qiao Jin didn’t wait for Lu Pingzhang to return the next day—he went to the hospital that afternoon.

The head ophthalmologist who had been overseeing his case for years pulled up his file, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Qiao Jin sat quietly across from him, waiting for him to speak.

The doctor paused for a moment before his phone buzzed on the desk. He answered, and his previously stern face softened noticeably.

He put the phone on speaker and set it down. Using a gentler tone, he said, “Corneal transplant recipients are extremely vulnerable to infection. You really need to be extra cautious.”

Qiao Jin’s gaze dropped to the screen where the caller ID clearly read President Lu Pingzhang. He said nothing.

The doctor didn’t seem to mind his silence and continued gently, “Avoid staring at screens too long, no smoking or drinking, no strenuous activity, and don’t stay up late. Use the eye drops regularly, on schedule.”

“If you feel any discomfort at all, come in for a check-up right away,” he went on. “Your regular follow-up is still scheduled for around November 22nd each year. If your condition worsens, we’ll switch to every six months.”

Qiao Jin sighed inwardly and nodded.

Of course, Lu Pingzhang couldn’t see him nodding, so he asked through the speaker, “Did the patient hear all that?”

‘The patient’ finally looked at the phone and said, “Yes. Thank you, Director.”

Director Wang picked up the phone again and said warmly, “President Lu Pingzhang, I’ll take Xiao Qiao Jin to get his medication now.”

Lu Pingzhang replied, “Alright. He never takes care of himself—please remind him again.”

“Not a bother at all,” Director Wang immediately replied with a smile. “We’re all on the same side.”

Qiao Jin followed him to the pharmacy. When they reached a quiet spot, he called softly, “Director.”

“What is it?” Director Wang asked gently as he packed the medications together and started writing the instructions on a slip of paper.

Qiao Jin asked, “The volunteer who donated their corneas to me—do they have any surviving family?”

Director Wang’s pen paused mid-sentence. He looked up at Qiao Jin in mild surprise.

“I just want to thank them,” Qiao Jin said with a mild, harmless smile, explaining, “If they have family and happen to be struggling, I’d like to see if I can help somehow. Or maybe… they might want to see how my eyes turned out. You never know.”

Director Wang lowered his head and continued writing without responding at first. After a long pause, he finally said, “Hospital policy forbids sharing any identifying information about donors and recipients.”

Qiao Jin didn’t speak.

Without looking up, Director Wang added, “But the corneas weren’t the only organs he donated. He was a full-body donor. Many other patients received healthy transplants from him. He gave hope to a lot of people.”

Qiao Jin hadn’t thought of the uniqueness of his own situation. He simply felt grateful. And if there was ever a chance, he wanted to do something, anything, to show that gratitude.

After a moment, Director Wang murmured, “If you want to thank him… the best way is to take good care of your eyes. Don’t waste the rare and precious gift a volunteer like that gave.”

Qiao Jin nodded quietly. He didn’t press the matter further and headed up to the hospital’s top floor with the medications in hand.

He stood in front of the ICU, staring blankly for a while. One of the nurses, familiar with him by now, smiled and greeted him warmly, “Here to see your mom?”

Qiao Jin nodded and returned her smile lightly. “Yeah. Thanks for everything.”

Visiting hours had technically ended, but he could still go in if he wanted to.

All it would take was a call to Lu Pingzhang.

But he didn’t call.

He didn’t want to trouble Lu Pingzhang again—even if the man could effortlessly track his every move.

After standing there for a bit longer, he called Lu Pingzhang’s driver and asked him to come pick him up.

Xiao Chang was already waiting downstairs. He opened the back door for him and watched him settle in.

“Thank you,” Qiao Jin said.

Xiao Chang tried his best to show how thoughtful he was, even deliberately avoiding the congested main roads to take a quiet side route home.

Driving for Lu Pingzhang meant being sharp, responsive, and meticulous. But driving Qiao Jin around—he just had to be steady and smooth.

“Would you like the window down a bit?” Xiao Chang asked.

In the rearview mirror, Qiao Jin’s lips were pressed into a faint line, his brows relaxed out of habit. He stared quietly out the window at the passing scenery.

Xiao Chang cracked the window slightly. The breeze drifted in, brushing across Qiao Jin’s face, bringing a hint of life back to him.

“Another year’s almost gone,” Qiao Jin said. “Xiao Chang, thank you for everything you’ve done for me this year.”

He reached into his tote and pulled out two cartons of cigarettes with a thick envelope tucked between them. He placed them on the front passenger seat.

Xiao Chang caught a glimpse and was instantly startled. “Qiao Jin-ge, I—I really shouldn’t…”

“Don’t worry about Lu Pingzhang-zong. He won’t find out,” Qiao Jin said gently, his tone comforting. “I just want to ask you something.”

Xiao Chang was visibly shocked and moved—but Qiao Jin didn’t see it.

Xiao Chang looked a little nervous. “What would you like to know?”

“Pingzhang’s younger brother… did he graduate from the University of Political Science and Law?” Qiao Jin asked.

Lu Pingzhang had only just offered him a suggestion, and he was already acting on it.

Xiao Chang, carrying out Lu Pingzhang’s earlier instructions, nodded.

Qiao Jin hesitated, then asked, “He died in a car accident, right? When did it happen?”

Maybe it was the overly familiar way he said “Pingzhang,” but Xiao Chang glanced at him in the rearview mirror, then answered with some difficulty, “Yes. Internal injuries… They tried saving him for a long time. He went through a lot. But in the end… he didn’t make it.”

“And Lu Pingzhang-zong’s parents, too. They died in that accident. On the spot.”

He paused at a red light, then added, “It was around November. I remember the solar term was Xiaoxue—Minor Snow.”

Qiao Jin’s face turned pale. In silence, as if waking from a dream, he pulled out his phone and flipped through the calendar.

Three years ago, on the day of Xiaoxue, the date was November 22nd.

The day he had his corneal transplant.

Xiao Chang wasn’t sure if he should keep talking. When they arrived at the Lu Pingzhang residence, Qiao Jin didn’t make any move to get out of the car.

Xiao Chang took the envelope and handed it back to him through the back seat. “Qiao Jin-ge, I’ll take the cigarettes. But this… you should keep.”

Qiao Jin waved him off, his face even more withdrawn. “Drive safe.”

Xiao Chang waited until he saw Qiao Jin safely enter the house, saw the lights come on, and only then drove away.

The Lu Pingzhang house without Lu Pingzhang was peaceful—but cold.

Qiao Jin couldn’t make sense of it.

Something in his mind felt like it was trying to connect the dots, but the harder he tried to draw the lines, the more that crucial detail slipped through his grasp.

He wanted to ask Lu Pingzhang directly. But he was afraid that if he was overthinking it, asking might lead to unnecessary consequences.

After all, Lu Pingzhang had never brought it up. If he asked out of the blue, it would come off as “thoughtless.”

And yet—he wanted to be thoughtless.

Qiao Jin sat on the sofa, lost in thought for a few minutes, then changed into workout clothes and went out for a quick bite. At the agreed-upon time, he headed to the gym to meet up with Fu Linxiao.

Fu Linxiao was true to his word and had already signed up for a yearly gym membership that day.

By the time Qiao Jin arrived, he was chatting enthusiastically with a trainer. When he saw Qiao Jin, he waved.

“You’re so slow,” Fu Linxiao said, lounging on an ab crunch bench, arms draped casually and long legs stretched out. “Lu Pingzhang-zong’s out of town, right? No need to rush today.”

“There’s never a need to rush,” Qiao Jin replied with a smile, taking the seat next to him.

“You finally made it, ge!” The trainer, Dada, approached warmly. When he smiled, his teeth were clean and bright. His tight-fitting uniform showed off a firm, athletic build that didn’t match his youthful, cheerful voice.

“Hey now, I’m still standing right here,” Fu Linxiao teased. “Where’s that sweet ‘Linxiao-ge’ you were calling me just a second ago?”

Qiao Jin was already used to his flirtatious ways. He said to Dada, “Ignore him. He’s no good.”

Dada laughed and bounced lightly on his feet. “Qiao Jin-ge, Lin-ge, you guys warm up. I’ll grab you some water and towels.”

Qiao Jin watched Dada walk away and nudged Fu Linxiao. “You see his legs and that lower back? How long does it take to build that?”

Fu Linxiao gave him a once-over, then commented, “You’re already lookin’ good. Slim in clothes, solid underneath. Straight back, long legs. If you took a spin through a gay bar, every bottom in Beijing would lose their minds.”

Qiao Jin looked at him. Fu Linxiao looked right back—then shrugged.

Qiao Jin commented, “You’ve been pretty wild lately.”

“Not really.” Fu Linxiao stretched leisurely like the night had only just begun, letting out a long “ahhh.” “Wanna get a foot massage later? Maybe shoot a couple rounds after that.”

“Stop being horny,” Qiao Jin said, rotating his shoulders and arms. “Massage and then straight home. I can’t stay up late these days.”

“You went for a follow-up?” Fu Linxiao asked. “What’d the doctor say?”

“The same stuff,” Qiao Jin replied, taking a few deep breaths as he got into position. “Did you know Lu Pingzhang has a younger brother?”

Fu Linxiao had just started warming up, slowly and casually. At the question, he raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of one.”

“That’s what’s weird—there’s nothing about him online,” Qiao Jin said as he adjusted the weights, finding them a bit heavy and dialing it down.

Dada came back with the water bottles. His close-cropped hair glistened, catching the light like he was glowing.

Fu Linxiao gave him a second glance but wasn’t particularly fazed. “This little trainer’s kind of something. Calls everyone ‘ge’ as he walks by… With someone like Lu Pingzhang-zong, it’s not surprising nothing shows up.”

Qiao Jin paused and looked at Dada along with him. “Help me look into it when you have time.”

“You know what hospital he was in?” Fu Linxiao glanced over. “And why do you even want to dig this up?”

“No idea.” Qiao Jin didn’t share his suspicions—he only said, “I just feel like Lu Pingzhang’s hiding something from me.”

Fu Linxiao studied him in silence for a moment, but Qiao Jin had already moved on. “Even the way Dada walks is good-looking.”

Dada clearly knew how to use his strengths, confidently showing off. “You guys already have great proportions. With targeted training, you’ll get the physique you want in just a few months.”

Qiao Jin took a sip of water, finished a few more sets on the crunch machine, then went to stretch his calves.

Fu Linxiao called to him from the treadmill, “Come jog with me—running burns fat fast.”

“Doctor just told me no intense workouts. I’ll pass,” Qiao Jin replied.

Dada was helping him stretch, pressing one hand on the inside of his thigh, the other on the side of his glute. “When you press down, engage here—yeah, exactly. Slow it down and focus on the movement.”

Qiao Jin followed the instructions. When he was serious, he was especially focused, but not rigid—relaxed and fluid.

Fu Linxiao lowered the treadmill speed, switching to a walk.

“You’re kidding yourself,” he said between breaths, wiping off sweat. “You mean to tell me when Lu Pingzhang-zong’s home, that doesn’t count as intense exercise? That’s way more damaging than this.”

Qiao Jin looked up at him, and the two exchanged a low chuckle.

Fu Linxiao stepped off the treadmill. Dada came over to loosen the muscles in his legs, but he waved him off. “I’m heading out. Gonna shower first.”

Qiao Jin nodded, exhaling slowly as he stood up.

Just then, a video call from Lu Pingzhang came through. Qiao Jin glanced at it and switched it to voice.

“All done with work?” he said first.

There was a short pause on Lu Pingzhang’s end. “You’re not home?”

Qiao Jin took two deep breaths, though his tone still wavered slightly. “No.”

“What are you panting for?” Lu Pingzhang asked immediately. “Where are you?”

“Gym,” Qiao Jin replied. “Just about to head home.”

“The gym again?” Lu Pingzhang’s voice, even through the speaker, was rich and low—magnetic with that deep, raspy maturity that could still send a shiver. “For real this time? Not lying to me again?”

Qiao Jin chuckled but didn’t bring up anything about Lu Pingzhang’s family, and Lu Pingzhang didn’t mention Xiao Chang either.

“I’m not lying,” Qiao Jin said. His breathing had steadied, but his tone at the end carried a playful hook. “I miss you. What time will you be back tomorrow?”

“Eleven.”

“Going to the office first?”

“No, home first.”

Qiao Jin smiled. “Then I’ll wait for you to have lunch together.”

Fu Linxiao walked out toweling his hair, flicking a bit of water onto Qiao Jin. “I’m done. Your turn.”

Qiao Jin stepped back. “Keep your wet head away from me.”

Lu Pingzhang fell silent on the other end and then abruptly hung up.

Before Qiao Jin could even put his phone away, the video call came in again.

He answered as he grabbed his towel and headed toward the showers.

Lu Pingzhang’s face appeared on screen, and the first thing he asked was, “Who are you with?”

“Linxiao,” Qiao Jin answered casually, completely unaware of the interrogation vibe. “I’m going to shower. You rest. I’ll head home after I clean up.”

Lu Pingzhang caught a glimpse of the gym behind him and felt reassured. “Call me when you get home.”

Qiao Jin hesitated for a split second—just enough to trigger Lu Pingzhang’s instincts.

“What is it?” he asked.

“…Nothing.” Qiao Jin glanced back in Fu Linxiao’s direction. “I’ll message you when I’m back.”

“Video call me,” Lu Pingzhang said, eyes locked on him. “Again.”

Qiao Jin nodded, expression calm—but the sweat from his workout still clung to his jaw and neck, giving him a disheveled, slightly provocative look, like he had nothing to hide and knew it.

“Okay. I’ll video call.”