The nurse knocked softly. “Visiting hours are over!”
The ICU wasn’t as oppressive or even eerie as ordinary people imagined. Especially at the renowned Tianyang Private Hospital in the capital—a must-choose destination for dignitaries and the elite. The hospital was lavishly appointed, and the ICU was particularly spacious and bright, with private rooms for each patient. The conditions surpassed even the presidential suites of five-star hotels.
The nurse glanced at the IV drip. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man in the suit rise. As he had done before, he gently pressed the back of his hand against the patient’s cheek, then tickled the patient’s armpit. After waiting half a minute, he crooked his finger and lightly scraped it along the patient’s nose bridge—a uniquely intimate gesture between lovers.
This man, surnamed Pei, was not only humble and gentlemanly but also handsome and wealthy. On his first day in the ICU, word spread like wildfire among the female doctors and nurses in the department. Some colleagues initially scoffed, questioning if he could possibly be as handsome as certain celebrities. Yet upon seeing him in person, they were instantly captivated. The department head, with his keen eye, immediately recognized him as Pei Jingchen, CEO of Lingyue Games—the dashing figure who’d just signed with Nari and trended on social media two days prior!
Days passed, and during breaks, the medical staff couldn’t stop buzzing about two things: Mr. Pei, who arrived punctually every day to visit outside the ward, and Teacher Su, who lay in bed receiving his daily visits.
The elderly department head remarked with emotion, “Teacher Su must be a very, very good friend of Mr. Pei.”
The nurses chuckled: “Missing the ‘male’ part—boyfriend.”
After all, being a boyfriend meant special treatment.
“Mr. Pei, rest assured, Teacher Su is doing very well today.”
“Teacher Su’s condition is stable today.”
“Teacher Su moved his fingers twice—signs of awakening.”
Visiting hours lasted only half an hour. For comatose patients like this, family visits held little practical value. Still, the more family members spoke, the more it might stimulate the patient’s awakening. But Mr. Pei was different. He only spoke when entering the room—“I’m here”—and when leaving—“I’m leaving.” The rest of the time, he remained silent, quietly keeping vigil by the bedside.
The nurse thought to herself: They are indeed lovers, but it’s also true their relationship isn’t particularly strong.
Later, the head nurse explained: “Mr. Pei remains silent because the patient requires absolute quiet. He fears his own voice might agitate the patient—heart and lung conditions cannot tolerate stimulation. No one educated Mr. Pei on this; he understood it instinctively.”
The intern nurse suddenly understood, exclaiming, “Mr. Pei is truly thoughtful!”
Pulling the curtains halfway closed, he allowed only a sliver of sunset light to spill across the foot of the bed.
“I’m leaving now,” Pei Jingchen said to Su Qingci in the hospital bed, silently adding in his mind, “I’ll come see you again tomorrow.” He opened the door and stepped out of the ward.
Assistant Xu was waiting outside the hospital. Pei Jingchen got into the business vehicle and habitually grabbed a can of coffee from the mini-fridge, downing half of it in one go.
Xu glanced in the rearview mirror. Ever since Su Qingci’s hospitalization, Pei Jingchen’s mental state had deteriorated. He’d begun suffering from insomnia and vivid dreams, waking with a start and unable to fall back asleep, forcing him to rely on sleeping pills to drift off.
Xu had warned that sleeping pills weren’t good for him and should be avoided if possible. Pei Jingchen heeded the advice and hadn’t taken any for several days straight. Yet the high-pressure demands of his day job and the emotional strain from Su Qingci left him utterly drained. To stay alert, he turned to coffee, but drinking too much coffee led to insomnia, which in turn required sleeping pills—a vicious cycle.
Assistant Xu glanced at the empty cans in the mini-fridge, mentally noting to restock. “Mr. Pei, shall I drive you home?”
Pei Jingchen rested his head against the chair back, thought for a moment, and said, “Take me to my father’s place.”
Xu nodded. He had personally “investigated” Su Qingci’s home before but failed to uncover any clues. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of dereliction of duty and negligence. As a special assistant, he served not only as Pei Jingchen’s professional secretary but also as his personal attendant in private matters. Despite Pei Jingchen’s assurance that he bore no responsibility for this oversight, Xu’s innate sense of duty left him feeling guilty.
Upon arriving, Assistant Xu couldn’t resist asking how Su Qingci was doing today. Pei Jingchen replied that the nurse had mentioned his fingers twitched twice, showing signs of regaining consciousness. Assistant Xu visibly relaxed.
When Pei Jingchen entered the shop, Pei Haiyang was slumped in a booth at the tasting area, scrolling through his phone. He was watching short videos and chuckling to himself: ” What brings you here?”
Pei Jingchen replied, “I’ve been pretty free lately.”
Pei Haiyang said it was good to have some downtime, noting he hadn’t even rested during the New Year and deserved a break. He added that money was never-ending, suggesting he should occasionally just chill like a lazy fish instead of obsessing over earning it. “We won’t make the foolish mistake of trading our youth for money only to spend our old age prolonging life with it.”
Every time he returned, Pei Jingchen inevitably got lectured by Pei Haiyang’s well-worn life philosophies. Half-joking, half-serious, he said, “Once Lingyue goes public and its market cap exceeds eighty-two billion three hundred million US dollars, I’ll retire completely and go home to enjoy my golden years.”
Pei Haiyang chuckled, “Why the exact figure?”
Pei Jingchen propped his chin on his hand and replied without hesitation, “Nothing special. Just feels like a lucky number.”
Pei Haiyang stared at him for a moment, his gaze softening with concern. “Son, you’ve lost weight.”
Then he pulled a large batch of sugary, oily treats from the cabinet and handed them over. “Eat!”
Pei Jingchen: “…”
Pei Haiyang mused, “Ice cream puffs. Xiao Ci loved those the most.”
Pei Jingchen involuntarily replied, “He loved mousse the most.” He added, “Anything chocolate-flavored, he loved.”
Pei Haiyang followed his words back to the past: “The first chocolate-flavored item in our shop was the caterpillar bread—chocolate lava filling. Back then, when he passed by the shop entrance, I gave him this to eat. Later, I even had you deliver some, remember? Too bad…”
Pei Jingchen scooped a piece of cake with a plastic spatula: “That bastard Su Ge went crazy. He didn’t get to eat it.”
Pei Haiyang’s expression darkened as he sighed, “Having a father like that… poor kid!”
Dark clouds obscured the sun, and the wind picked up. Even the clever stray dogs stopped loitering on the streets, darting across the road to slip into building entrances sheltered from the wind and snow.
Pei Jingchen said, “Tell me about Su Qingci when he was little.”
Pei Haiyang was surprised. He smiled and asked, “Didn’t you say you weren’t interested before? It’s always the same stories. Haven’t you heard them enough? Aren’t you bored?” Pei Jingchen shook his head. “I’m not bored. I just want to hear them now.”
“The first time I met that kid, Xiao Ci, he was only six—it was actually his sixth birthday. When he appeared outside the shop, he gave your father quite a fright. The little guy was well-dressed, but his face was dusty and his clothes were dirty. I wondered whose lost child this could be? But I must say, with his rosy lips and pearly teeth, he was even more handsome than Wu Lü!”
Nearly twenty years later, Su Qingci hadn’t changed much from his childhood. Pei Haiyang could see through his eyes and brows, glimpsing that little boy who’d once sat in his shop, eating chocolate caterpillars while sobbing uncontrollably.
Later, he took the boy to the police station and held him close until he fell asleep. When his wife Fang Qiong called, he explained the situation and told her to let their son sleep first.
Fang Qiong asked what else could be worrying about the child being at the station. Pei Haiyang explained the boy was shy around strangers but clung to him like family—he couldn’t bear to just leave him there. While they were on the phone, the boy’s father arrived.
Listening to the man speak with the officers, Pei Haiyang realized the child in his arms wasn’t just some wealthy family’s spoiled young master—he was the renowned direct imperial grandson of the Wulin Group!
“Back in the nineties, Wulin coffee was the high-end stuff, like KFC or McDonald’s. Us common folk couldn’t afford it,” Pei Haiyang mused.
Months later, Su Qingci returned to the shop—this time to repay a debt. Pei Haiyang was utterly bewildered by the little rascal, demanding to know when he’d ever owed him money. Su Qingci pulled out two coins, insisting it was payment for the caterpillar bread. “Can’t eat for free,” he declared.
Pei Haiyang couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. He ruffled the boy’s hair with his big hand several times. He asked if he was hungry and what else he wanted to eat. This time, he made sure to say clearly that Uncle was treating him, and he didn’t need to pay. He added that Uncle had a son too, two years older than him, but unfortunately, he was visiting Grandma’s house. As the sun set, Pei Haiyang asked if he wanted to go home. Su Qingci shook his head. Pei Haiyang obliged him, but as night deepened and it was time for him to close up shop, he finally suggested, “How about Uncle drives you home?” Su Qingci paused for a few seconds before nodding.
The neighborhood security guard recognized Su Qingci and let them through. Pei Haiyang took the opportunity to walk into the exclusive villa district. It was truly eye-opening. He mused that even if he worked his entire life, he couldn’t afford even one bathroom in a house like this.
He rang the doorbell. The door opened, revealing a woman wearing sunglasses indoors. Pei Haiyang was taken aback. When he noticed what appeared to be bruising at the corner of her eye, he froze. Then he heard Su Qingci call out beside him, “Mom.”
Pei Haiyang stared in astonishment. The woman’s voice trembled with fear, her body shaking. “Who… who are you?”
“I’m the owner of Smile Bake Shop. I brought Xiao Ci home. Here’s some bread I baked—absolutely healthy with zero additives. Help yourself, don’t be picky.” “At that moment, a man emerged from the house. Pei Haiyang recognized him—Su Ge.
Su Ge’s expression froze upon recognizing him. He glanced at the woman, then at the boy in Pei Haiyang’s hand, his gaze suddenly turning menacing. “Why are you holding my son? What are you doing here? What’s your relationship with my wife? Speak!”
*
Pei Jingchen slammed down the serving spoon. “You’re insane!”
Years later, recalling the incident, Pei Haiyang still felt righteous indignation. He remembered how Su Ge had roughly snatched the child away that day, yelled at him to get lost, then slammed the door shut. Moments later, sounds of smashing echoed from inside, accompanied by a man’s snarling whisper: “When did you start hooking up with that baking guy? You slut!”
Pei Haiyang was so terrified he called the police, but the case was dismissed afterward as a domestic dispute. After that, Su Qingci never returned to his bakery. Pei Haiyang once dared to go looking for her, but security wouldn’t let him in. The guard who had previously let him through was gone. Later, he heard rumors that the family of three had moved away. Several years passed before the shop received a delivery order.
Pei Haiyang said, “So that was your first time meeting Xiao Ci?”
Pei Jingchen replied, “No, I’d seen him before.”
Pei Haiyang slapped his forehead in realization. “My memory! You mentioned it before—how he got cornered by a group of upperclassmen in an alley, and you came to the rescue like a knight in shining armor?”
Pei Jingchen chuckled, though the laughter tasted bitter. Pei Haiyang stared at him for a moment before asking with a hint of seriousness, “Son, what’s really going on? You can’t hide it from your dad. Is something wrong with Xiao Ci? Why are your dark circles so bad? Not sleeping well?”
Pei Jingchen forced a light tone. “Nothing, Dad. Don’t worry. Qingci and I are fine. I’ll head back now.”
Arriving home, as he changed his shoes by the door, Pei Jingchen spotted an oil painting standing nearby—the one Su Qingci had specifically returned to take last time, only to leave behind in the end.
Pei Jingchen walked over and picked it up. It depicted an interior scene—a doorway at dawn. Unlike Su Qingci’s usual impressionist style, this piece employed a realistic technique.
Pei Jingchen scanned the living room walls, found a nail and hammer, and hung the painting. It was placed prominently, visible even from the kitchen.
Among Su Qingci’s works, this painting was unremarkable, even ordinary. Yet it was his personal favorite. He said it captured the essence of home, a haven for the wandering soul. “Every time this door opens,” he told her, “you come home. And I’ll be here waiting for you.”
Su Qingci clung to him, deliberately rubbing his fluffy hair against Pei Jingchen’s nose, tickling him. “Is my painting any good?”
The roar of flames jolted Pei Jingchen awake.
Dawn had broken.
Pei Jingchen washed up, changed clothes, handled paperwork, and stepped out at noon sharp for the bus stop. He recalled the first time he’d taken Su Qingci on the bus—the very day he’d rescued the damsel in distress.
On the way home from school, he heard someone shout, “Keep acting cocky!” in an alley. Inheriting Pei Haiyang’s meddlesome streak, Pei Jingchen’s DNA stirred. He saw three upperclassmen cornering a younger boy, all wearing identical uniforms. The leader shoved the boy’s shoulder and sneered, “Top of the class, my ass! You’re just a weakling. Keep acting tough!”
School bullying? Could he stand by? Pei Jingchen roared at the injustice. As the three turned, he caught a glimpse of their school badges—unexpectedly, they belonged to a private academy. Though only two blocks away from his own school, their social standing was worlds apart. It was an elite institution where students were either filthy rich or incredibly powerful.
Pei Jingchen finished the fight in no time, earning a “You better wait for me, you bastard” from his opponent before it dawned on him that he might have caused trouble for his family.
No regrets, but a bit of fear. Oh well, done is done. Pei Jingchen turned to ask if the boy was hurt, only to find him staring back with eyes that were… well, how to describe it? It had that shoujo manga vibe. Those almond-shaped eyes were clear and bright, sparkling with light. Years later, recalling that moment, Pei Jingchen still felt like pairing it with “You Are My Everything” as background music.
Pei Jingchen found himself asking, almost on impulse, “Do we know each other?”
The boy didn’t speak, only lowering his gaze and tilting his head slightly. Pei Jingchen scratched the back of his neck, puzzled. He thought to himself that this spot wasn’t far from his dad’s shop. Maybe the boy had bought bread there once and happened to see his photo in the store.
“Want to go home?” Pei Jingchen asked. The boy nodded. So he walked ahead, the boy following behind. When he stopped at the bus stop, the boy stopped too.
Pei Jingchen found it odd. Students at an elite school were all wealthy young masters. Didn’t young masters have chauffeurs to pick them up? Weren’t bodyguards provided?
Pei Jingchen was brimming with curiosity, but what came out was the most pressing question at hand: “Have you ever ridden the bus?”
The young master’s face paled. Pei Jingchen thought, Just as I suspected. When asked where he lived, the boy gave an address in the exact opposite direction from Pei Jingchen’s home. Reluctantly, Pei Jingchen realized letting the young master take the bus alone was unrealistic. Fine, he thought, might as well see it through.
As they boarded and paid the fare, the young master blinked in confusion. Pei Jingchen patiently explained, then gestured toward the back: “I like sitting in the last row. It’s higher up, gives a great view, you don’t have to give up your seat, and you get that roller coaster thrill. You…”
The young master: “I like that too.”
Pei Jingchen smiled and led him to the back row. As the bus started moving, the young master stared intently out the window. Pei Jingchen thought to himself: Different social classes find joy in different things. He’d never ridden in a private car in his life, yet the bus he took for granted was now being treated by the young master with the solemnity of a Chang’e 7 lunar mission.
The ride passed in silence. After about ten minutes, the young master suddenly said, “Don’t worry. They won’t bother you.”
Pei Jingchen hadn’t processed it yet, uttering a startled “Huh?” The young master turned to look at him, pulled his phone from his pocket, and opened the video app.
Pei Jingchen could scarcely believe his eyes! Good heavens, this was premeditated—no, meticulously planned! He knew it! How could the young master possibly travel without a driver or bodyguards? This boy, who looked like a lamb but was actually a cunning wolf, had deliberately isolated himself to lure them into action!
The young master said, “I won the gold medal at the International Art Competition. He couldn’t beat me fairly, so he resorted to dirty tricks.”
Pei Jingchen approved of the young master’s relentless pursuit of revenge but shook his head at his method of baiting the snake out of its hole. Who sends their bodyguards away and ventures out alone into danger? If he hadn’t happened to pass by, you would’ve gotten beaten up.
Just then, the bus stopped. Pei Jingchen reminded him to prepare to get off. They walked to the door and waited. Buses have a recoil when they stop—anyone who’s ridden one knows to brace yourself in advance. But the young master didn’t know this. Caught off guard, he stumbled forward, his whole body crashing into Pei Jingchen’s arms. Pei Jingchen instinctively wrapped his long arms around him, about to ask, “Are you okay?” His gaze abruptly met a patch of bruising.
To steady himself, the young master had grabbed the handrail just in time. His school uniform sleeve slid down, revealing startlingly vivid bruises on his slender, pale wrist.
Pei Jingchen instantly boiled over with anger. “How long have you been bullied at school? Why didn’t you tell your teachers? Why didn’t you tell your parents? What’s your name?”
“Su Qingci.” The young master answered only the last question, his bright eyes holding a shattered tenderness. “My name is Su Qingci.”
A week later, on a weekend, the bakery received a delivery order. With his father busy in the back kitchen, he ran the errand himself. Glancing at the address, he saw it was the residential complex where Su Qingci lived.
Had he not heard the shouting and scolding during the delivery, curiosity wouldn’t have made him linger. Had curiosity not driven him to peek, he wouldn’t have witnessed that unforgettable scene. Perhaps he would never have crossed paths with the young master he’d met by chance.
He finally understood: Su Qingci’s injuries weren’t from school violence, but from his own flesh and blood.
The bus pulled into the station. Lost in thought, Pei Jingchen got off a few seconds late and walked into Tianyang Hospital.
In the lounge outside the intensive care unit, Pei Jingchen saw Annelise. Their encounters had been few and far between, and she had always struck him as a woman perpetually polished and stylish, dressed with impeccable taste. Yet the Annelise before him now wore no makeup, not even lipstick. Her beautiful features looked unusually haggard, her hair unkempt and tousled by the dusty journey.
“I found out this morning,” Annelise said, her suitcase at her feet, its handle still bearing the baggage tag.
“Secretary Wang told me. I took the chance to ask him about your situation. He spoke, I listened—who knows if it’s true.”
Pei Jingchen only asked, “Visiting hours are almost over. Are you going in?”
“If you don’t come, I’ll go in. But if you’re here, how could I compete with you?” Annelise stared at the cold ICU doors. “He says he wants to break up, but deep down, he’s still so attached to you. Too bad you see that as a burden. Pei Jingchen, he’s clinging to life in there now, pathetic and ugly. Doesn’t that make you feel satisfied?”
Pei Jingchen’s fingers tightened. “No.”
Annalise chuckled softly. “You helped him time and again, saved him, yet he repaid your kindness by forcing you, imprisoning you. Aren’t you regretting it now? Wishing you’d never meddled in the first place, never gotten entangled with such a burden.”
Pei Jingchen clenched his fists. “No.”
“No?” Annelise sneered. “Then what is it? That you actually like him? Mr. Pei, may I ask, how does anyone who likes someone behave like you? You treat him with icy coldness, sarcastic jabs, and emotional neglect! Isn’t that right?”
Pei Jingchen’s heart trembled. Annelise continued, “You’re the victim, he deserved it. But if you never intended to love him, why keep giving him warmth? Why let him grow attached?”
Pei Jingchen opened his mouth to speak when the ICU door slid open. A nurse announced visiting hours.
Annalise composed herself, staring blankly ahead. “He once painted a sunflower. It was beautiful, so beautiful.”
“Pei Jingchen, do you know what redemption is? Do you know what it feels like when redemption crumbles to dust?” Annalise laughed sarcastically. “Of course you don’t.”
She rose heavily, her high heels clicking on the floor. “If you don’t like someone, you shouldn’t hurt them. Mr. Pei claims to be a good man, yet he’s done nothing but cruel and heartless things. Don’t blame me for being unreasonable—I’ve always sided with family over reason.”
Her eyes suddenly reddened. “Pei Jingchen, you can dislike him, but give him back to us. Give him back to art, okay?”
Pei Jingchen underwent full-body disinfection before entering the hospital room.
“I’m here.”
The room was quiet, broken only by the steady “beep, beep, beep” of the heart monitor.
“Your agent is waiting outside.” He spoke one more sentence than usual today.
“He yelled at me, and I…” The second sentence.
“Even though you have a temper, every time you lose it, it’s actually because I provoked you.” The third sentence. Pei Jingchen thought to himself that he’d probably say a lot today.
They’d never once argued since meeting. After all, arguments required two people. When emotions flared, Pei Jingchen’s response was always silence—never retorting, because retorting would spark a fight.
He couldn’t recall which time it was when Su Qingci shouted, “If you’re annoyed with me, hate me, despise me—just say it! Let’s have a proper fight!”
He replied, “I won’t argue with you.”
Su Qingci laughed bitterly in anger. “Should I be touched by your gentlemanly manners and refinement, or should I be disheartened that you simply won’t bother arguing with me? Because you dislike me, you avoid me altogether. Because you hate me, you won’t exchange a single word when we don’t see eye to eye. Is this emotional neglect?”
No. Just as Pei Jingchen opened his mouth to speak, Su Qingci’s weary voice cut him off: “Never mind. A refined gentleman with no temper, who can maintain emotional stability even toward those he despises—isn’t that exactly the type I like?”
Pei Jingchen approached the hospital bed, his fingers gloved in surgical gloves lightly touching Su Qingci’s icy cheek. “Still so cold.”
“Does the wound still hurt?”
“Still not planning to wake up?”
“Qingci.”
Pei Jingchen’s Adam’s apple bobbed painfully as he lowered his eyes in distress. “You grew up surrounded by violence and abuse. How could I possibly—how could I bear to argue with you?”
His long lashes fluttered slightly. The number “72” on the ECG monitor jumped to “93.”
Pei Jingchen shot upright, staring in disbelief at the figure on the hospital bed about to awaken.
Su Qingci opened his eyes.
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