“……”
Wen Chaosheng!
The cry caught in Xi Zhui’s throat, trapped there no matter how hard he tried to force it out.
Xi Zhui’s eyes flew open in panic, his blurred vision taking in the familiar hospital ceiling above. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if this was reality or just another dream.
He glanced around the dim, empty hospital room, still trying to gather his scattered thoughts, when the door swung open from the outside.
Their gazes collided without warning.
Surprise lit up the weary depths of Wen Chaosheng’s eyes. “Xi Zhui, you’re awake?”
He hurried to the bedside, studying Xi Zhui’s face and condition intently. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Nauseous? Anywhere else that hurts?”
Wen Chaosheng fired off the questions one after another. When Xi Zhui didn’t respond, he grew anxious and started looking around for someone. “Hang on, I’ll go call a nurse for you!”
“Wen Chaosheng—”
Xi Zhui sat up quickly and seized the other man’s wrist with a tight grip. “Don’t go!”
“……”
Wen Chaosheng glanced down, sensing the faint tremor in Xi Zhui’s hand. “Xi Zhui?”
“I’m fine. Nothing hurts.” Xi Zhui barely registered the pounding in his head or the wave of dizziness. He just repeated his plea. “Don’t go yet. Stay with me a little longer.”
During the time he’d been unconscious, he’d dreamed again of that incident six years ago—the heavy injuries, the breakup notice. Even now that he was awake and back in the real world, the terror lingered in his heart, refusing to fade.
Xi Zhui was terrified that if Wen Chaosheng left, he’d just fire off a casual WeChat message to brush him off and vanish for good.
“……”
Wen Chaosheng obediently halted in place. “All right. I won’t go.”
He noticed how dry Xi Zhui’s lips looked. “Are you thirsty? Let me get you some warm water.”
With that reassurance, Xi Zhui released his grip. “Yeah.”
Wen Chaosheng quickly poured a glass of warm water. “Here.”
Xi Zhui fought through the dizziness, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man before him. “What time is it now? Where’s everyone else?”
“It’s not even eleven yet.”
Wen Chaosheng handed over the cup and gave a brief rundown. “Jin Zhao came to see you this evening. Sister Hui and Xiao Chao just headed back to rest a little while ago. They’ll come by again first thing tomorrow morning.”
Xi Zhui took a sip of the warm water—half a glass, in fact—then asked a question he already knew the answer to. “And you? Why haven’t you gone back to rest?”
Wen Chaosheng paused for a second or two before offering up a very official-sounding excuse. “There was this accident on set, and you’ve been out cold the whole time. As the director, I have a duty to stay and look after you.”
Xi Zhui shot back, “What about Yu Yan? Wasn’t he hurt too? If Director Wen is so responsible, why aren’t you taking care of him?”
“……”
Wen Chaosheng was at a loss for words.
He wanted to point out that Yu Yan had already come around during the drive to the hospital and was fully alert by then.
Yu Yan’s hand had been cut, sure, but he was up and bouncing around. Meanwhile, Xi Zhui—who was a few years older—looked far worse, remaining unconscious no matter how they tried to rouse him.
Seeing that familiar silence, Xi Zhui took the initiative. “Wen Chaosheng, I’m the one who got hurt here. Can’t you just tell me the truth for once?”
“You chose to stay at the hospital tonight just because of your role as director and your sense of duty? Or is it because you actually care about me? Because you were worried about me?”
Wen Chaosheng met Xi Zhui’s dark eyes, which held no chill despite their intensity. All that pent-up fear suddenly found an outlet.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as a faint tremor crept into his voice. “I… I was worried about you.”
In the instant the mural had crashed down, Wen Chaosheng had been seized by a nightmarish dread of history repeating itself. On the way to the hospital, his mind had raced with every possible worst-case scenario.
He’d been afraid Xi Zhui would suffer another life-threatening injury, or end up like Chang Ming.
From the moment of the accident until just now, waves of heart palpitations, suffocation, and ringing in his ears from the panic response had battered him relentlessly. Fortunately, chatting with Jian Jinzhao that evening had eased his near-collapse a little.
“Xi Zhui, I was worried about you.”
Wen Chaosheng repeated it softly. The feelings he’d buried so deeply for so long now lay bare in the aftermath of the crisis. “……I was afraid something would happen to you.”
In truth, after a thorough examination, the doctor had confirmed Xi Zhui was in no serious danger. He just needed rest and sleep.
There were nurses on duty who would call the moment Xi Zhui stirred.
Even so, Wen Chaosheng had insisted on staying by the bed.
Six years ago, when Xi Zhui had been badly injured and hospitalized, he’d missed his chance to be there. Six years later, he wanted to stand guard, to be the first to see Xi Zhui wake up.
“……”
The tight furrow in Xi Zhui’s brow eased at once, his inner turmoil dissolving with that honest admission.
He could see the exhaustion etched into Wen Chaosheng’s face. Gently, he took the other man’s hand and tugged him toward the bed. “Come here.”
Wen Chaosheng toppled onto the bed, nearly tumbling right into Xi Zhui’s arms before catching himself. “What are you— What are you doing?”
Xi Zhui held on tight. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stay up watching over me. Lie down and get some sleep.”
Wen Chaosheng refused. “No, you’re the patient. You need to rest properly. I can just sit here beside you.”
“You…”
Xi Zhui hesitated, words on the tip of his tongue.
The forceful demand he’d been about to make softened into something coaxing instead. “My head’s still spinning. I need more rest. Wen Chaosheng, will you lie down with me for a bit?”
As expected, that did the trick.
Wen Chaosheng wavered, then asked uncertainly, “What if a nurse comes in on rounds?”
Xi Zhui laughed at him. “We’re just sleeping normally, resting up. What’s there to be afraid of?”
“……”
Pretending to swoon, Xi Zhui pressed him. “Hurry up. I really don’t feel well.”
The hesitation faded from Wen Chaosheng’s eyes, and he agreed in a muffled voice. “Fine. I’ll take off my jacket.”
For one thing, he could never bring himself to refuse Xi Zhui.
For another, he was utterly exhausted and terrified. He needed Xi Zhui’s presence, his embrace, to feel any sense of calm.
Only then did Xi Zhui let go, even scooting over to make room. “Okay.”
Wen Chaosheng shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. He lay down awkwardly on the bed. His peripheral vision caught Xi Zhui right there beside him, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. He couldn’t help turning onto his side. “Xi Zhui, I’m sorry.”
Xi Zhui understood the reason for the apology in an instant. His expression turned serious. “Listen to me, Wen Chaosheng—”
“Accidents are accidents because they’re unpredictable and uncontrollable. What happened today had nothing to do with you. I don’t need your apology.”
“There are over a hundred people on this crew. Big mishaps, small ones, minor injuries, serious ones—they happen every day. You’re the director, but that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the blame for every single incident.”
“No one’s blaming you. You need to learn to cut yourself some slack. Don’t make yourself live like this, okay?”
“……”
Wen Chaosheng’s eyes stung.
Afraid Xi Zhui would notice, he squeezed them shut.
Xi Zhui leaned closer, pulling the blanket up higher, and murmured soothingly, “I’m really fine. Another good sleep and I’ll be right as rain. You rest easy too.”
“Mmm.”
A soft hum escaped Wen Chaosheng’s throat. He didn’t pursue the conversation further.
The room fell quiet once more, filled only with the intermingling rhythm of their breaths.
Xi Zhui had slept for hours that afternoon, so he was wide awake now and couldn’t drift off. He watched Wen Chaosheng silently, his thoughts drifting back to six years ago—
That time, the injuries had nearly cost him his life. Beyond the gravest wound to his abdomen, several ribs had fractured too, leaving him bedridden in the hospital.
During his stay, he’d tried contacting Wen Chaosheng countless times, but the man’s number back home went unanswered, and his WeChat friend requests were ignored.
Unable to reach Wen Chaosheng directly, Xi Zhui had called mutual friends, from Lin Keyang to Sun Xuan to Liao Qi. The answers were all nearly identical:
Wen Chaosheng was staying overseas and not coming back. Even the studio they’d been prepping had shut down.
When Lin Keyang—one of his close friends—had pressed for why, Wen Chaosheng had given a curt “personal matters” and then gone completely dark.
Desperate, Xi Zhui had approached the assistant director on Cloud End, but even he’d only said:
The film wrapped fine, but after that, Director Wen didn’t come back with us. No idea what he’s been up to.
Only then did it hit Xi Zhui with crushing clarity—
The world was vast. Vast enough that if Wen Chaosheng wanted to cut ties, he could vanish from Xi Zhui’s life in an instant.
In the end, Xi Zhui had even considered reaching out to the Wen couple through Shen Ruo, but she’d shut him down with one sentence:
“Your Uncle Wen and Auntie Song went globe-trotting around the world two months ago. They’re not even in the country right now. Why are you suddenly looking for them?”
“……”
With Old Mr. Xi’s heart condition weighing on him, Xi Zhui couldn’t utter another word.
It was during that hospital stay that his childhood friend Xia Fengyi learned the full story. He suggested hiring a reliable private investigator overseas—maybe they could track down Wen Chaosheng’s whereabouts.
Out of options, Xi Zhui had agreed.
Time flew by until Chinese New Year. Freshly recovered from his grave injuries, Xi Zhui finally checked out of the hospital just before the holidays.
To celebrate his recovery, the Xi Family threw a lavish banquet with several tables of guests. But Old Mr. Xi’s words at the feast froze him in place:
“Xiao Zhui, your Uncle Wen dropped by a few days ago. He told me that kid Chaosheng has found himself a partner and settled down abroad.”
“Chaosheng has always been such a sensible boy. Still so young, and he’s got both career and love sorted. Xiao Zhui, you should take a page from his book!”
“……”
Xi Zhui could hardly recall the shock, doubt, and absurd sense of betrayal that had crashed over him then. For the first time, he’d forgotten decorum, abandoning the crowd of relatives and elders as he stormed out.
Back home, Xi Zhui packed the lightest luggage he had and grabbed his passport and visa, ready long in advance.
He was going to Europe himself!
