Chapter 29

Perhaps it was because he had been living too freely in recent days, or maybe it was the flu virus darting around the streets, colliding right into Ye Ji’an’s forehead with a loud thud. On a certain day in early March, he woke up feeling groggy. He had meetings to attend and suggestions to give to his subordinates, his throat never getting a moment’s rest. After a fifteen-minute nap, he turned off the alarm and got up, only to suddenly realize that his throat was swollen and painful, and when he tried to speak, his voice was so hoarse he barely recognized it.

After drinking four or five cups of fat sea and licorice tea in the afternoon, his condition still hadn’t improved, and his headache was worsening. Ye Ji’an forced his eyelids open and stared at the computer screen, reminding himself to focus on work, but his brain felt like a millstone that no one was turning, and his efficiency had dropped by more than half compared to usual. Fortunately, during dinner, Liang Xiao noticed something was off with him and insisted on calling a car to take him home, sparing Ye Ji’an another torturous ride on the crowded and stuffy subway.

When he got home and took his temperature, it was still a feverish 39.2 degrees Celsius.

Liang Xiao stared at the mercury column under the light as if it were his sworn enemy.

“I’m so tired,” Ye Ji’an said, but he didn’t rush to bed. Instead, he squatted in the storage room, rummaging through boxes. He really didn’t want to make another trip to the hospital for an IV drip at this late hour. After some effort, he found the anti-inflammatory medication and cold remedy. As soon as he entered the living room, he saw that warm water had already been poured, and a glass was placed on the coffee table. Liang Xiao hadn’t even had time to take off his coat and was silently sitting to the side, quickly typing something on his phone.

“Don’t go to work tomorrow. I’ll call Hu-ma to take care of you,” Liang Xiao said.

Ye Ji’an swallowed a few aspirin with the cold remedy, grimacing at the bitterness, but he closed his eyes and downed the rest of the half glass. “No need, I’m more comfortable on my own, and I don’t have to worry about my appearance, right?” He was afraid of spreading the illness, so he didn’t dare to get too close to Liang Xiao and habitually leaned away from him, focusing instead on drafting a leave request email.

He planned to take a day off.

“What will you eat? Are you going to cook for yourself?” Liang Xiao frowned. “There’s an account that needs to be settled tomorrow, and I’ll definitely have to work overtime.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot to do tomorrow. You’ll have to work hard while I’m not there,” Ye Ji’an rubbed his sore eyes and said with renewed energy, “I don’t have an appetite like this anyway; I still feel like throwing up from the porridge I had for dinner. I’ll just sleep for a day.”

Liang Xiao didn’t respond.

Ye Ji’an continued, “Bring me some medicine when you come back. I’m almost out at home. Just the cold remedy and anti-inflammatory medication will do. It’s too much trouble to go to the hospital; just go to the pharmacy across the street from our company, at the subway entrance.”

Liang Xiao nodded.

“Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow morning, and then I won’t need to take a leave,” Ye Ji’an said, feeling a flicker of hope in his heart, thinking it wasn’t impossible.

“No way,” Liang Xiao said, staring at his pale lips. “Unless your temperature returns to normal and your throat doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Oh.” Ye Ji’an blinked in surrender. Seeing Liang Xiao pick up his phone again, showing no intention of going to bed, he slowly stood up, went into the bathroom to take out his contact lenses, and began washing up. The high fever made him feel cold all over, especially when he took off his shirt in front of the bed. He put on a thick sweater and moved out of the bedroom, leaning against the hallway and asking, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Liang Xiao looked up from his phone screen. “Soon,” he said, glancing at Ye Ji’an’s legs. “Cover yourself with the blanket, Senior.”

Ye Ji’an obediently complied. When it came to dealing with a sudden heavy cold, he felt he was more adept than Liang Xiao. The most important thing was to take anti-inflammatories and sweat it out. The winter down comforter hadn’t been put away yet, and he curled up inside, but the warmth only lingered on the surface of his skin, unable to dispel the shivers rising from within.

Soon, he heard some movement outside the door, as if Liang Xiao was busy with something. The bedroom door was pushed open again, the light off, only the sound of machines starting up. Ye Ji’an vaguely realized it was the humidifier and air conditioner. Just as he thought to sit up and take a look, a heavy layer was draped over him again, warm and toasty, and when Ye Ji’an reached out to touch it, he found it was an electric blanket.

“Is it warmer now?” Liang Xiao stood by the bed, a black silhouette against the dim light from the hallway.

“Very good,” Ye Ji’an said, a bit surprised and touched. He hadn’t expected Liang Xiao to go to such lengths, dusting off the electric blanket from the cabinet just to turn the room into a warm haven. “And there’s heating too, that’s enough.”

“Have you started to sweat?” Liang Xiao asked again.

“Not yet.” Ye Ji’an’s voice dropped. At this age, he felt embarrassed for not taking care of himself and suddenly falling ill, not only delaying work but also needing someone to take care of him. However, he didn’t feel ashamed, just a bit complex, as he suddenly remembered that he had been living in a dorm since the first year of middle school, so even as a child, he rarely received such care when sick. Thus, facing his young boyfriend who had to get up early for work the next day, he felt a mix of dependency, guilt, and a strange sense of relaxation.

Liang Xiao sighed and gently touched his forehead, and Ye Ji’an caught a whiff of mint from the toothpaste. Then Liang Xiao went out again, filling a thermos with warm water and placing it on the bedside table before quietly walking to the other side of the bed. Ye Ji’an had thought that tonight he would take a pillow and sleep in the guest room, after all, there was no such triple warmth in winter, and now that early spring had arrived, with temperatures rising above zero, no one would find it comfortable to be baked by the big furnace all night.

Even Marx, who usually occupied the bedside table, had changed positions.

However, Liang Xiao lay down as usual, burrowing under the covers and wrapping his arms around him.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“I’m warm too,” he said, “Come closer, sweating will help you get better faster.”

“Can you sleep like this?” Ye Ji’an gripped the edge of the blanket; without that layer, their faces would almost be touching. “I’m afraid of infecting you; go sleep in the next room for the night.”

Liang Xiao just laughed. “I can’t sleep without you, Senior. I’ll just have to take medicine.” He even pulled the blanket away to kiss Ye Ji’an, as if to prove he wasn’t afraid of getting infected. But Ye Ji’an was scared and hurriedly dodged, “Don’t mess around!” His voice was hoarse and alarming.

“Then I won’t kiss you; I’ll just hold you,” Liang Xiao said softly, tightening his embrace. His arms were so strong they seemed to sink into the sweater, and he rubbed his cool eyelids against Ye Ji’an’s forehead. “Senior, be good and sleep well.”

Ye Ji’an’s stiff muscles softened in that embrace.

Gradually, it seemed that his cold was also being dispelled.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but it was quite stable, a dreamless night. The next morning, in a daze, Ye Ji’an couldn’t see clearly, but he heard Liang Xiao fastening his belt. He closed his eyes again, and it felt like a long time had passed before he once again heard the sound of the security door closing.

He’s already gone? Why does it feel like it’s not yet dawn?

Ye Ji’an spent a few seconds trying to understand his confusion.

Then he took two seconds to sit up and turned to look out the window.

To avoid oversleeping and being late, they had always been in the habit of only pulling the sheer curtains, allowing even a little light to seep in. However, now outside was a dark expanse, and he couldn’t see any daylight. Fumbling for his phone, he saw it was 4:03 AM.

He called Liang Xiao, who picked up immediately. “Why are you awake?”

“Did you set the alarm wrong?” Ye Ji’an paused. “Look at the time; the subway station isn’t open yet. Hurry back home.”

“I’m driving,” Liang Xiao laughed, and there was some noise on the line, probably because he adjusted his Bluetooth headset. “There’s really not a soul on the street!”

“…Is there an urgent matter at the company?”

“No, I just want to finish my part early,” Liang Xiao said generously, “and then go home to cook for you, Senior.”

Ye Ji’an was stunned for a few seconds before piecing together the sequence of events. His eyes suddenly felt sour, catching him off guard. “I’m not completely immobile,” he finally said. “I’ll cook for you; come back early.”

Liang Xiao insisted, “Then make one less dish.”

Ye Ji’an laughed, pressing his nose bridge. “Okay.”

“Quick, lie down and sleep,” Liang Xiao said again.

“I’m lying down,” Ye Ji’an replied in real-time. “The blanket is up to my chin.”

But that day, he indeed didn’t stay in bed the whole time. After putting down his phone, he dozed off again, sleeping until nearly ten o’clock. Ye Ji’an suddenly woke up, feeling something was off; he couldn’t spend the whole day in bed. What was the difference between that and his previous single life, where he had no ambitions and just wanted to catch up on sleep? Moreover, lying in bed alone was also boring. He dug out his medical insurance card, wrapped himself in a thick down jacket and scarf, and ran to the hospital across the street to get an IV drip, bringing along his laptop.

Sitting on the long bench in the infusion room, Ye Ji’an completed part of the work he could do outside the company, sending it to the department’s public email, providing a bit of remote support to the poor souls who were settling accounts.

Of course, he mainly wanted to support his enthusiastic boyfriend who had gotten up in the middle of the night.

The work group suddenly became lively; it had been lifeless before, but now everyone was crying out, saying Director Ye was a living bodhisattva and the representative of advanced patients. However, Ye Ji’an didn’t want to see this. “Get back to work,” he replied.

No one in the group dared to speak up again.

The previously silent Liang Xiao then sent a message: What are you doing?

Ye Ji’an: Getting an IV drip; it’ll be done by two-thirty. I’m bored.

Liang Xiao: [sad]

Ye Ji’an looked at the drooping corners of the little yellow bean emoji and replied: I’m almost better; remember to have lunch.

Liang Xiao: I’m going to work.

Ye Ji’an leaned back against the chair. He didn’t want to say anything that would distract Liang Xiao, but for some reason, he felt a bit reluctant to turn off WeChat right now. So, he started scrolling through their chat history, going back over two months, like a high school student who had just added someone he liked on WeChat but hadn’t had the chance to chat yet. He would squint at the screen and smile foolishly, then lock his phone and hold it in his hand, feeling he needed to take his time looking through it.

Time passed until the afternoon. On his way home, Ye Ji’an conveniently bought some groceries, returned home, cooked a dish of beef and peas and a dish of sweet and sour cabbage, put them in the fridge, and then returned to bed. Before closing his eyes to sleep, he glanced at his phone again. Aside from a few spam messages and greetings from colleagues, there was a new message from Xiao Li in the General Affairs Department:

Director! I ran into Liang Xiao at Walmart during my lunch break today while I was buying supplies for the tea room~ He bought a whole hen^^

Ye Ji’an: ?

Xiao Li replied immediately: He even asked me how to stew it, putting the hen in his backpack and carrying it back to the office to hide in the fridge. So cute!

Ye Ji’an suddenly pictured Liang Xiao’s slightly awkward yet eager-to-learn expression, as well as Xiao Li’s motherly demeanor, and replied: Haha, he’ll definitely be able to stew it well.

Xiao Li: I couldn’t help but ask, is it for you to eat?^^

Ye Ji’an had been waiting for this question and replied: Yes^^

Xiao Li: !!! Don’t worry, Director, I’ll keep it a hundred percent secret! Ah, I want to scream! Ah, you must be happy!

Ye Ji’an: Thank you, but it’s unnecessary; we’re not planning to hide it. My head hurts a bit; I’ll rest for now.

“Typing…” appeared for a long time. Xiao Li probably typed and deleted several times before finally sending: Mmm, Director, you must recover quickly; we all miss you!

Ye Ji’an couldn’t help but smile, putting away his phone and putting on an eye mask. He thought to himself that Xiao Li really was someone who said what was on her mind, without any guile, but that was enough for someone doing the logistical work in the General Affairs Department. To be precise, he had a pretty good impression of this lively and diligent young girl. When he woke up, it was dark outside, and the hallway was faintly illuminated. Ye Ji’an smelled something delicious and walked toward the light.

The two dishes he had prepared earlier were already heated and set on the dining table, with rice served on the side. Ye Ji’an went to the kitchen, where the countertop was a mess, and the sound of boiling water bubbled. Liang Xiao was sprinkling salt into the clay pot.

Ye Ji’an knew that the hen with quite a backstory was indeed his, without a doubt. Liang Xiao was quietly making himself a pot of chicken soup.

“It smells so good.” Ye Ji’an hugged him from behind, leaning against his shoulder.

Liang Xiao jumped slightly, silently scooping some soup to taste, and gasped from the heat. “It seems a bit bland,” he said to himself, adding half a spoonful of salt and poking at the chicken with chopsticks, which was tender and white, with no traces of blood. “It’s done.”

He was genuinely delighted, and Ye Ji’an was even more so. He brought over a large white porcelain bowl to help him serve, and together they managed to get the whole hen, complete with head and tail, into the bowl, pouring in the golden, translucent broth.

Ye Ji’an prepared a dipping dish. “You’re really something; I have an appetite now!”

Liang Xiao carried the large bowl to the dining table and said from a distance, “Then eat a chicken leg.”

Compared to the bitter throat and dizziness he had experienced the night before, Ye Ji’an felt much better. The heartfelt chicken soup was far more appealing than the eight-treasure porridge from outside. He drank a big bowl, ate a bit of the stewed scallions, dipped it in the sauce, and as he was about to pick some cabbage, Liang Xiao suddenly said, “This afternoon, someone from the Human Resources Department came by. They want to form a spring recruitment promotion group for the East Coast academic district. This year, our department is going to two, but it’s not decided yet; you can apply yourself.”

“Did you apply?” Ye Ji’an bit down on a piece of the sweet and sour cabbage.

“Yeah, I can go back to my alma mater. I know a lot about overseas students, so it’ll be easier for me,” Liang Xiao put down the spoon he was using to scoop peas and added, “I also filled out the application form for you.”

Ye Ji’an wiped his mouth and suddenly smiled brightly. “Great!”

Liang Xiao propped his chin on his hand, tilting his head to look at him, also smiling. “I want to take you to see the roses in New York and the cherry blossoms in New Jersey.”