Honey! Don’t Take the Medicine! 29

? Views, Released on January 13, 2025

Chapter 29

Song Jingmo, having cried himself three sizes smaller, followed Xie Zhang to the study, where he sat with his tablet, wiping his face with a shadow handkerchief while doodling and writing.

Xie Zhang kept glancing at him.

Song Jingmo’s earlier tears had been heartbreaking, and his refusal to explain had left Xie Zhang worried and restless.

Song Jingmo, of course, noticed his distraction.

He huffed, a large shadow hammer materializing beside Xie Zhang’s desk.

Xie Zhang: “…”

His expression shifted, and he subtly adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter.

He’d previously dismissed the shadow’s behavior as a hallucination, thinking the polite and elegant Momo would never swing a hammer at him.

But reality had proven him wrong. Not only had Momo smashed his monitor with a shadow hammer, but now…

【Focus on your work! Stop staring!】

【I’m busy. We’ll settle this later!】

The AI voice echoed from the tablet on the nearby sofa, the shadow hammer looming menacingly.

Xie Zhang coughed, forcing himself to concentrate on his work.

He’d always preferred working from home because Song Jingmo was there.

Knowing they were under the same roof, that he could reach Momo instantly if anything happened, eased his anxiety.

It also helped him focus—although, perhaps, he’d simply been thinking that finishing his work quickly would allow him to spend more time with Momo.

And now, with Song Jingmo not only under the same roof but constantly within his sight, his anxiety had lessened considerably.

Of course, this was also because Song Jingmo was currently in a vegetative state, his soul residing within his shadow, making his anxieties… impossible to manifest.

Their current situation was… absurdly perfect.

As Xie Zhang focused on his work, the shadow hammer shrunk, transforming into a shadow cat, which gracefully climbed onto his keyboard, lying belly-up.

Although it lacked fur, the smooth, inky blackness was strangely alluring.

Xie Zhang’s fingers occasionally brushed against the shadow cat’s paws and tail as he typed. If he paused too long, the cat would swat at his hand with its hind paws, then playfully hook his finger with its tail.

He couldn’t resist gently tugging on the shadow tail.

Song Jingmo, doodling on his tablet, let out a pleased hum.

Although he’d never owned a pet, he’d spent plenty of time admiring them online.

He knew it! Despite his seemingly rigid personality, Xie Zhang was a cat person!

Well, it made sense.

Song Jingmo giggled, continuing to draw on his tablet.

He had a cat-like personality, while Xie Zhang was more like a dog.

So Xie Zhang liked cats, and he liked dogs.

But ultimately, Xie Zhang loved Song Jingmo most of all.

An hour later, Song Jingmo, finally satisfied with his drawing, realized Xie Zhang had been unusually quiet.

The shadow cat, without his active control, was just a desktop pet, occasionally nuzzling Xie Zhang.

Song Jingmo was about to join him when he saw Xie Zhang holding a book, seemingly reading, but glancing towards the sofa every few seconds.

He’d even been poking the nearby shadow with his finger, all the way to the shadow cat perched on the edge of the water glass, poking and waiting, but Song Jingmo hadn’t noticed.

Xie Zhang’s face was expressionless, but his eyes and actions betrayed a hint of… dejection.

Song Jingmo had never seen him like this. He stared at Xie Zhang’s reflection in the decorative mirror across the room.

Ah, his darling had so many hidden depths, just waiting to be discovered.

So much cuteness.

He couldn’t help but giggle.

This time, Xie Zhang heard him and quickly realized he was being observed.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face, then he picked up the shadow cat, carried it to the sofa, and sat down beside Song Jingmo.

He sat stiffly, silent.

Song Jingmo, however, couldn’t stop giggling.

Hearing his laughter, Xie Zhang blushed, his ears turning pink. “Momo!”

The chibi shadow climbed onto his lap, then onto his shoulder, a shadow tendril cupping his face and kissing him on the lips.

Xie Zhang coughed, then bent down and kissed Song-shadow’s head.

Feeling the warmth surging through him, Song Jingmo kissed him back.

After a moment of affectionate nuzzling, he detached himself from Xie Zhang, straightening his non-existent collar, his demeanor suddenly serious.

Xie Zhang, although confused, sat up straight.

A shadow tendril reached for the projector switch, turning it on.

The screen descended, connecting to the tablet, the image slowly coming into focus.

Song Jingmo had installed the projector, wanting to add some… life… to Xie Zhang’s sterile study, envisioning them watching movies and listening to music together.

But they hadn’t used it much, the home theater and game room eventually replacing it.

But Xie Zhang had always remembered.

He remembered Song Jingmo’s hands, covered in dust from installing the projector, his proud, hands-on-hips stance as he declared his intention to invade his workspace and distract him.

So, when he was alone in the study, Xie Zhang would sometimes turn on the projector, just to look at it.

The shadow crept onto the screen, slightly surprised.

It hadn’t been used in ages, yet it was surprisingly clean.

The housekeeper must have been very thorough.

Song Jingmo, not dwelling on it, displayed the title slide of his PowerPoint presentation, a long pointer appearing in his chibi hand, perfectly aligned with the projected image.

Xie Zhang: “…”

He’d attended countless meetings, reviewed countless projects, seen countless presentations, but this was the first time he’d seen…

…a pink and white, heart-filled PowerPoint presentation.

Seeing the title, a smile touched his lips, but under Song Jingmo’s pointed gaze and the tapping of the shadow pointer, he maintained a serious, professional demeanor.

He’d never looked this serious during a work presentation.

The title, handwritten in a flamboyant font, read:

`Honeymoon & Relationship Enhancement Action Plan

—Helping Your Partner Understand You Better (hearts hearts hearts)`

Song Jingmo, looking at his masterpiece, scoffed at his brother’s earlier claim that he had no artistic talent.

Artistic talent was universal!

His artistic skills were only slightly inferior to his musical ones.

Creating this presentation had been challenging. If it weren’t for Secretary Xu’s online assistance, he might not have managed it.

He placed the pointer on the table with a shadow tendril and returned to Xie Zhang’s side, perching on his finger.

【I had a nightmare last night…】

The AI voice began narrating the pre-written text.

Xie Zhang listened intently.

Song Jingmo told him everything, the dream, the master’s words, his suspicions.

They’d had enough misunderstandings.

They didn’t need any more secrets, any more well-intentioned omissions.

Regardless of his outward appearance, the master seemed to be the real deal.

He’d asked Xie Zhang about the master’s attire, and Xie Zhang had confirmed it was a black robe, as seen in the security footage.

But to Song Jingmo, he looked exactly like the psychiatrist from his nightmare.

It was a warning.

A reminder that the dream wasn’t just a dream, a reminder that if they didn’t seize this opportunity, the nightmare would become reality.

He’d asked the master the crucial question, obtaining the key to their last chance.

If it weren’t for the red strings, he would have died in the car accident, at the age of twenty-nine.

Xie Zhang, consumed by grief, his anxiety worsening, would have developed schizophrenia and died a year later, on Song Jingmo’s thirtieth birthday.

That’s why the master’s first method, the immediate retrieval of his soul, would only have allowed him to live until thirty.

Because it was the red strings that had altered his fate, the strings connecting their souls, their lives.

Even if Song Jingmo’s life was extended, Xie Zhang’s lifespan was still limited to thirty. If the red strings weren’t mended, their connection would be severed.

True togetherness meant shared life, not separation by death, or even death together.

And with their connection severed, Song Jingmo, despite his borrowed time, would still die, and Xie Zhang would succumb to his illness.

So, they had one year to mend the red strings.

【I reviewed all the supernatural novels I’ve read, and after a long discussion with Secretary Xu, we’ve reached a conclusion.】

【I feel a surge of energy whenever you think about me, or do something related to me.】

【I prayed at a temple dedicated to the god of love. The red strings must be connected to our relationship.】

【To mend the strings, we need to strengthen our bond, to achieve true… soul mate status!】

Song Jingmo’s speech, although passionate and slightly dramatic, sounded… odd… when read aloud by the AI.

Listening to his own words, the chibi shadow curled his toes, digging them into…

…Xie Zhang’s palm.

People, when embarrassed, tend to fidget.

Shadows do too.

Song-shadow scratched himself, grabbed the shadow cat from Xie Zhang’s hand, and pretended to search for fleas in its fur.

The AI continued its narration, and Song Jingmo mentally counted down the seconds.

Hurry up and finish!

He hadn’t realized he’d written so much!

【Therefore—!】

【I’ve planned a honeymoon! We’ll retrace the steps of our first meeting, rediscover each other, understand each other, and fall in love all over again!】

Song-shadow, now almost a perfect sphere, quickly paused the narration.

That was enough.

Any more, and he’d dig a hole through Xie Zhang’s hand.

Xie Zhang’s expression remained neutral, but the subtle shift in his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil.

He wasn’t surprised by the underlying message.

One year.

That was roughly the timeframe he’d estimated for himself.

Only the mention of the red strings surprised him.

If Momo was with him, he would live.

“Okay.”

He smiled, readily agreeing to Song Jingmo’s plan, his response calmer than Song Jingmo had expected.

“Let’s go on a honeymoon.”