At the entrance to the residential complex, Pei Jingchen looked at Su Qingci.
Su Qingci looked pale, sitting motionless in the passenger seat. Pei Jingchen asked if he felt unwell. Su Qingci shook his head. Pei Jingchen inquired if he was tired. After a few seconds of silence, Su Qingci nodded.
Pei Jingchen drove into the compound and parked at the villa entrance. He got out, walked around to the passenger side, and lifted Su Qingci out of the car.
At the door, Su Qingci struggled to get down. Once steady on his feet, he muttered a thank you to Pei Jingchen.
Pei Jingchen looked deeply concerned. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
Su Qingci’s voice was faint. “Just a bit tired.”
Pei Jingchen supported him with one arm and asked, “What’s the code?”
Su Qingci paused. Pei Jingchen reassured her, “Doesn’t it require both the code and fingerprint to enter? It’s fine if I know the code.”
Su Qingci let out a bitter laugh inside, a mix of self-mockery and melancholy. “1001.”
Pei Jingchen swiftly entered the code. Su Qingci pressed his fingerprint, unlocking the door. Just as Su Qingci stepped inside, he stumbled. Pei Jingchen reacted with lightning speed, catching him before he fell. Before Su Qingci could react, Pei Jingchen scooped him up horizontally and carried him all the way to the sofa.
“Can’t breathe? Feeling dizzy?” Pei Jingchen immediately pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Director Wen.”
Su Qingci clutched his chest, struggling to steady his breathing. The rising metallic taste of blood made him inwardly dread the worst. Sure enough, the moment he opened his mouth, a stream of pink liquid gushed up his throat, causing him to choke and cough.
Pei Jingchen, who had just hung up the phone, paled with shock. He hastily pulled out tissues and held them beneath Su Qingci’s hand. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the paper from pink to bright red. It flowed relentlessly as the coughing fit continued.
Tissue after tissue became saturated, quickly filling half the trash can. Su Qingci’s entire body shook with the coughing. Already thin as a rail, such violent choking made him seem as if he might shatter at any moment.
Ten minutes later, the coughing subsided and the bleeding stopped. Pei Jingchen washed a damp towel to wipe Su Qingci’s face, saying, “Director Wen will be here soon.”
Su Qingci’s expression remained impassive, long accustomed to such crises. His words were more for comforting his own flustered self.
Wen Mengmeng rushed over overnight. In the bedroom, she took Su Qingci’s temperature, measured his blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope, and later hooked him up to an IV drip.
Wen Mengmeng sat on the edge of the bed and asked, “Xiao Ci, have you been taking your medicine on time as prescribed?”
Su Qingci looked at her. Wen Mengmeng said, “Don’t lie to me.”
Su Qingci closed his eyes and remained silent. Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed down the hallway. Pei Jingchen stood in the doorway, shattered glass and a trail of hot water at his feet.
Wen Mengmeng rose. “I’ll head back now and come again tomorrow morning.” Before leaving, she glanced at Su Qingci, then at Pei Jingchen, and sighed deeply.
Pei Jingchen remained frozen in the same stance until Wen Mengmeng was gone.
The bedroom was eerily quiet, the entire villa feeling like an ice cellar.
Pei Jingchen spoke up, “How long has this been going on?”
Su Qingci deliberately pretended not to hear. Pei Jingchen muttered to himself, “Since I left for New York on that business trip?”
Ice-cold water swirled around his slippers, scattered shards of glass at his feet. Pei Jingchen suddenly felt an urge to step barefoot into it, as if only letting his body bleed could ease the piercing ache in his heart. “Why?”
Pei Jingchen stepped over the shards and strode to the bedside. He wanted to grab Su Qingci by the collar, yank him up, and scream at him: Why? Why? Why?!
“It must have been hard for you to play along with me. When I asked what you ate daily, you spun tales of delicacies to deceive me, even going so far as to dispose of the pills to destroy evidence. Su Qingci! You actively sought death, refused treatment—you don’t want to live anymore, do you?” Bloodshot eyes, veins bulging, Pei Jingchen’s gaze was fierce. “How can you justify this to anyone?!”
For a split second, Su Qingci thought Pei Jingchen might lash out and beat her. A full-blown beating might be exaggerated, but a slap seemed plausible.
But Pei Jingchen didn’t. He didn’t, yet this uncontrollable fury was unlike anything Su Qingci had ever seen in him. Not even when he’d been drugged had Pei Jingchen raged this fiercely. He roared like a caged beast, his thunderous fury tinged with a despairing sorrow. It felt like he wanted to destroy something, yet was powerless to do so, leaving him only to tear himself apart.
Su Qingci lowered his eyes and laughed softly. “Am I letting anyone down?” “ He lifted his gaze to meet his directly. ”Whom must I prove myself worthy of?”
Pei Jingchen froze. Perhaps it was the half-cup of strong liquor, but his eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d wept bitterly. He looked grief-stricken, bewildered, even somewhat disheveled.
So that was it…
Pei Jingchen felt a chill run through his body. His premonition had been right all along. Su Qingci had obediently eaten his meals and taken his medicine only for that painting, Incense Burner. He had poured his heart and soul into it, clinging to life to complete the work, burning his very essence to leave behind the most intense and tragic testament in this world! With the testament finished, his soul had scattered.
Pei Jingchen nearly collapsed. The world spun black and white before his eyes. He reached out to grasp something, but could only slump down, plopping awkwardly onto the bedside.
The mattress trembled slightly under his weight. Suddenly, Su Qingci felt a pang of pity for him. A sunflower, bright and radiant, should never wither. How could it have come to this? Su Qingci laughed at himself, a worm stubbornly clinging to the sunflower’s roots, trying to climb to its flower chamber, utterly unaware that the roots he crawled over were already riddled with holes.
“Jingchen.” Su Qingci called out, using Pei Jingchen’s given name. Pei Jingchen jerked his head up, his gaze piercing and intense.
“Do you find the ICU frightening?” Su Qingci asked.
Pei Jingchen didn’t respond, waiting for Su Qingci to continue. “Even though it’s a private room, my hearing is sharp. I can hear the woman in the next bed chatting. She asked, ‘Young man, did the old lady on your right wake up today?’ ‘ I said no. She sighed in relief, saying it was better she hadn’t. I asked if being unconscious was really better? She gave a bitter laugh and said, ‘If the old lady woke up, she’d just try to rip off her oxygen mask and nasal tube again, along with all those thick and thin wires attached to her body.’”
Pei Jingchen froze.
Su Qingci paused before continuing, “She also mentioned that the old lady’s bed was previously occupied by an elderly man with late-stage liver cancer. He suffered unbearable pain daily, tormented by his illness until he was neither fully human nor ghost. Later, when the medical staff weren’t looking, he pulled out his own oxygen tube and passed away within half an hour.”
“The ICU is usually quiet—even the nurses walk on tiptoe. But it’s also incredibly loud, with the deafening hum of medical equipment. Together, it’s a constant, overwhelming din.” Su Qingci stared at the needle in his wrist. “Do you know how I feel every day? Climbing a single flight of stairs feels like it’ll kill me. On cloudy, rainy days, it’s as if the whole world is competing with me for oxygen. I walk as slowly as an old man. Putting on a shirt leaves me gasping for breath. The sensation of blood pooling in my throat and surging upward is unbearable. Pei Jingchen, I don’t want to cling to life like this. What’s the point? It’s painful, wasteful, and utterly meaningless. I want to live with dignity, and die with dignity.”
Pei Jingchen’s heart skipped a beat: “Su Qingci.”
Su Qingci: “If I’m on my last legs, don’t rush me to the hospital for emergency treatment. And definitely don’t strip me naked and shove me into the ICU.”
In mere minutes, Pei Jingchen lost all strength. If someone had pushed him then, he would have collapsed, unable to rise. He opened his mouth to speak, only to find every ounce of energy drained just to breathe.
“What about me?” When Pei Jingchen finally managed to speak, his voice was hoarse and raspy, his words disjointed and his intonation broken.
Pei Jingchen looked at Su Qingci with sorrow and despair: “What about me?”
Su Qingci chuckled at those four words: What an absurd question! You’re not even twenty-seven yet, talented, handsome, worth over a hundred million—are you really worried about finding a wife and ending up alone for life?”
Late into the night, the rain that had been gathering all day finally fell. Drops pelted the windows and doors like whips, while the green vines in the courtyard swayed wildly in the storm.
Pei Jingchen stared at his reflection in the mirror. Though physically unharmed, he felt as if he’d endured a thousand cuts.
The torrential downpour continued unabated until dawn, showing no sign of letting up. Wen Mengmeng braved the storm to arrive. The accompanying nurse changed Su Qingci’s dressing. Another hour passed. By the time daylight broke, the IV drip had finally finished.
The nurse handed Su Qingci’s hand to Pei Jingchen: “Don’t rub it. Press for five minutes.”
Su Qingci slept soundly, unaware that two more people had entered the room. Wen Mengmeng and the nurse sat outside while Pei Jingchen stayed in the bedroom with him.
Su Qingci’s phone lay on the nightstand. After all that had happened that night, Pei Jingchen noticed the cracked screen. He instinctively noted the brand and model, planning to buy an identical replacement at the store once the rain stopped.
Holding the phone, Pei Jingchen swiped up to unlock it, prompted to enter the passcode.
They had no secrets between them. His phone had never feared being checked by Su Qingci, and hers by him. Yet they had never looked through each other’s phones—a tacit trust and a form of respect.
Pei Jingchen placed the phone back and reached for his own, only to find it dead. Reluctantly, he picked up Su Qingci’s phone again, murmuring an explanation: “I just need to check the weather forecast.”
He typed in his own birthday as he spoke. Wrong.
After a moment of stunned silence, a thread of disappointment flitted through Pei Jingchen’s heart. In the past, Su Qingci had set every password to his birthday. He’d teased her, “Are all your bank passwords my birthday too?” She’d smile and tell him to guess. No need to guess, he knew it was.
It wasn’t that Pei Jingchen was overly confident; it was the confidence Su Qingci had instilled in him.
He tried entering Su Qingci’s birthday again. Still no luck.
Pei Jingchen froze, his fingers trembling slightly. As if compelled by some unseen force, he typed in 1001. The phone unlocked.
Like the door lock password, did this hold some meaning? 100 plus 1? October 1st? National Day? Pei Jingchen looked at the sleeping Su Qingci in confusion, trying to find an answer in his face.
As he watched, his mind grew chaotic. He couldn’t help but lean closer, looking again, looking closely.
Pei Jingchen’s entire body jolted. 1001, October 1st—it was National Day, it was Golden Week, it was the day he first met Su Qingci!