He thought it would be far more inconvenient to wash himself—just running water would be so much simpler.
Huo Zongzuo placed the basin on a chair and began unfastening his watch: “I’ll wash you.”
“Oh,” Jiang Luo replied casually, not suspecting anything. He stood at the bedside and immediately started undoing the buttons on his hospital gown.
With one arm in a sling, he couldn’t fully remove the gown, so he just unbuttoned one row, then began tugging down his hospital pants with one hand.
He didn’t treat Huo Zongzuo as an outsider at all, pulling both the pants and the underwear beneath them down together.
Huo Zongzuo, rolling up his shirt sleeves, happened to glance up—and saw exactly that.
Jiang Luo, catching Huo Zongzuo looking, huffed: “Men’s dignity.”
“And is this ‘dignity’ something to be proud of?”
Pretty big, wasn’t it?
Huo Zongzuo looked away: “Don’t strip everything off—it’s cold.” It was only late March.
He went to wring out a warm towel and added: “Once you’re done, lie down.”
Jiang Luo sat at the bed’s edge, tugging his pants off to his ankles.
He truly had no awareness of the image he was presenting—no pants, bare white legs, the lower edge of his gown swaying just right to partially cover his exposed buttocks, almost like an invitation.
At first, Huo Zongzuo had no inappropriate thoughts while fetching the water, but now he had to consciously divide his attention to restrain his instincts.
Jiang Luo kept teasing—talking about dignity, bragging about his pale, flawless skin, joking: “Sometimes I feel so smooth I don’t even feel like a man. Really, just touch and see.”
Huo Zongzuo drew a slow, steady breath, approaching with the towel: “Sit still.”
Jiang Luo reached out, offering to wash himself.
“No, sit. I’ll do it.”
“Oh.”
He sat properly. Huo Zongzuo lifted the front flap of the undone gown, sliding one half of the top off his shoulder, and began washing his shoulders and arms with the towel.
Huo Zongzuo focused, while Jiang Luo squirmed, giggling: “Ticklish.”
“Don’t move.”
Huo Zongzuo held his wrist with his free hand, steadying him while washing.
Jiang Luo turned slightly, grinning: “Have you ever washed someone else before?”
Huo Zongzuo glanced up: “Besides my mom, who else would make me drop work and spend three days at a hospital?”
Jiang Luo chuckled. Huo Zongzuo moved to his neck and chest, Jiang Luo cooperating by lifting his chin.
Jiang Luo: “Next time you’re in the hospital, I’ll wash you.”
“Unless your legs are broken, you can wash yourself,” Huo Zongzuo replied, rinsing the towel.
Jiang Luo teased: “My legs aren’t broken either, yet you’re washing me.”
Huo Zongzuo wrung out the towel: “You have a few wounds—avoid water if you can.”
Jiang Luo laughed softly, watching Huo Zongzuo begin washing his front, saying: “Being rough around the edges is fine for a man.”
“Ticklish.”
“Don’t move.”
“Really ticklish.”
His skin was fair, smooth, and supple; Huo Zongzuo had never seen a man like this.
As he continued, the warmth of the towel allowed Huo Zongzuo’s hand to trace Jiang Luo’s form, though he fought to maintain composure.
When Jiang Luo stood to let Huo Zongzuo wash his back, Huo Zongzuo’s gaze darkened, instincts stirred—though he knew he mustn’t act. He struggled internally, keeping his head down, expression neutral.
Jiang Luo turned and asked innocently: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Huo Zongzuo said calmly.
Jiang Luo, unaware, said: “I’ll wash my legs myself.”
So he sat at the bedside, washing his legs and feet. Outside on the balcony, Huo Zongzuo lit a cigarette, smoke drifting lightly, peering through the glass with a distant expression—he knew he wouldn’t get the outcome he secretly wanted, but he couldn’t let go.
How could he give up? He had never been so unwilling.
He couldn’t bear it, not letting Jiang Luo slip away.
After finishing his calves, Jiang Luo held up the towel, signaling Huo Zongzuo to rinse it.
Huo Zongzuo stubbed out his cigarette and entered the room.
Jiang Luo handed him the towel: “So you smoke? I always thought you didn’t.”
“Rarely.”
He soaked the towel.
“I have a bit of a habit too,” Jiang Luo said.
“Though I don’t smoke—if the urge hits, I just eat candy.”
“Lately busy, haven’t had the chance, haven’t eaten much candy either.”
Huo Zongzuo looked at him, concerned: “You smoke?”
“Surprised?” Jiang Luo shrugged.
“Smoke less, bad for your health,” Huo Zongzuo said, then: “You have candy?”
“I’ll go buy some,” Huo Zongzuo said.
Once Jiang Luo was cleaned and changed into fresh underwear and hospital clothes, Huo Zongzuo left to get candy.
Back with the candy, Jiang Luo shook his head: “Even after all this, the best is still the lard pastry in Wencheng.”
He scooted over, patting the bed: “Come, sit.”
Huo Zongzuo joined, expecting Jiang Luo to want to discuss something.
They sat side by side. Jiang Luo smiled: “Isn’t this nice?”
Huo Zongzuo: “A broken arm and you call it nice?”
Jiang Luo: “Yes! Why not?”
“Usually we’re so busy, sometimes we can’t even contact each other. At night on Wukang Road, we finally meet before bed.”
“Now it’s great,” Jiang Luo raised an eyebrow. “We get a whole day together, like New Year in Sucheng.”
Huo Zongzuo smiled: “You didn’t miss me much before.”
“Of course not.”
Jiang Luo nudged him with his elbow playfully: “Not ‘missed,’ stop being cheesy.”
“You’ve been abroad for years, not seeing me—what’s there to miss?”
“No, I mean…” Jiang Luo struggled for words in his limited Chinese: “I mean, being together, meeting, chatting—you with me, me with you—it’s nice.”
“Mm.”
Huo Zongzuo’s lips curved. “Then I’ll make time to stay with you.”
“Really? Busy guy?”
Huo Zongzuo smiled faintly: “Who’s busy? You’re busier than me.”
“Eh.”
Jiang Luo thought of something, nudged again: “Does mom know I’m in the hospital?”
“Yes,” Huo Zongzuo said. “She wanted to come, but the car makes her sick. Her health isn’t good, so I didn’t let her.”
Jiang Luo grinned mischievously: “Call her then—right now.”
“Hospital is for resting your arm, not taking risks,” Huo Zongzuo said.
Huo Zongzuo called home, handed the phone to Jiang Luo, who immediately cheered: “Mom~ Mom~ my dear mom~”
He recounted the accident vividly: “I almost lost my life in that car, luckily I survived. Mom, I was so scared!”
Huo Zongzuo watched, both amused and exasperated, pinching Jiang Luo’s chin—a mischievous little imp.
…………………
Wang Chuang visited daily, ranting about the truck that hit them, criticizing Jiang Luo’s choice of driver and his poor driving skills.
“Yeah, you’re the only one competent,” Jiang Luo said, reclining against the bed while peeling and cutting imported apples Huo Zongzuo handed him.