Ji Huaizhi had lied to him.
Ning Shuang frowned tightly. If Ji Huaizhi wasn’t at home, where could he have gone? And besides, there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to lie about it.
He thought for a moment before replying to the message: 【Okay, rest well when you get home.】
After sending it off, Ning Shuang silenced his phone and turned off the screen.
One annoying thing after another—Ning Shuang was already starting to feel irritated. Fortunately, the car soon pulled up to the hospital, and after getting out, he temporarily pushed his worries about Ji Huaizhi to the back of his mind.
He asked Mo Qi for Zhu Ran’s room number and hurried straight to Room 2109.
Raising his hand, he knocked on the door. A tall guy with a wolf tail hairstyle opened it. “Hi, I’m Ning Shuang. How’s Zhu Ran doing?”
Mo Qi stepped aside to let him in, leading Ning Shuang to the bedside as he explained, “The doctor said they’ve admitted several people with these same symptoms. They have to run through all the standard tests before they can figure out what’s going on.”
The man on the bed was still unconscious, his brows tightly furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead, his lips parted as he struggled for breath.
Ning Shuang sat down on the edge of the bed for a moment. Then he looked up at Mo Qi beside him. “Draw the curtains, would you? The lights are on anyway—it won’t make much difference.”
He leaned down to closely examine the skin Zhu Ran had exposed. He could barely make out a few faint lines—probably signs that the gu poison had only just taken hold, so the symptoms weren’t very pronounced yet.
“Where’s the doctor?” Ning Shuang asked Mo Qi, turning back toward him.
Mo Qi replied, “He already left. They just drew some blood from him. He’ll come back once the results are in to check on him again.”
Ning Shuang nodded and pointed to the empty water kettle on the bedside table. “Go fill this with some hot water, would you? In case he wakes up and wants a drink.”
“Sure thing, Senior. I’ll go right now.” Mo Qi grabbed the kettle and headed out of the room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Ning Shuang quickly pulled the anti-gu medicine from his pocket. As usual, he shook a bit into a cup and then casually started scrolling through his phone as if nothing were amiss.
It wasn’t long before Mo Qi returned.
Ning Shuang took the kettle from him and poured some hot water into the cup.
“Are you two close?” Ning Shuang asked, striking up a conversation with Mo Qi.
Mo Qi scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess. We’re in the same dorm.”
“Has he ever had anything like this before?” Ning Shuang pressed.
Mo Qi shook his head. “Nope. He always seemed pretty healthy before—good spirits, decent build. He’s skinny, sure, but not to the point where standing at attention for a bit would make him pass out like this.”
Ning Shuang pulled the bottle of pills the girl had given him from his pocket. “A girl handed me this. She said it fell off Zhu Ran—he’s been taking these. What are they?”
“This…” Mo Qi took the bottle from him and examined it closely, his brow furrowing in recollection. “Oh, yeah. He bought these a while back. Said they were vitamins?”
“Vitamins?” Ning Shuang’s thumb idly rubbed the bottle as his gaze flicked subtly toward the man on the bed. He didn’t say anything more.
Before long, the person on the bed stirred and slowly woke. The two of them helped him sit up. Zhu Ran looked utterly drained, his eyes unfocused and listless. Mo Qi immediately asked, “How are you feeling? What happened? Why’d you pass out like that?”
“I… don’t know.” The speaker’s eyes were vacant, his whole demeanor dazed and sluggish.
Ning Shuang picked up the now-tepid cup of water and held it to Zhu Ran’s lips. “Here, have some water.”
Mo Qi took the cup and helped feed it to him.
The anti-gu medicine wouldn’t take effect so quickly. Ning Shuang sat off to the side, idly turning the pill bottle over in his hands.
He wasn’t being paranoid. Gu poison was inherently dangerous. In modern society, it was something that could genuinely harm people. If just one or two cases cropped up, that might be one thing—but what if there were several, or even dozens? With Miao Frontier blood running through his veins, could Ning Shuang really stay completely uninvolved?
In the end, even if he didn’t want to get mixed up in this, he’d have no choice but to warn his clansmen.
About ten minutes passed, and the man on the bed clearly started looking better.
Only then did Ning Shuang hold up the pill bottle for Zhu Ran to see. “These are your meds.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zhu Ran snatched them back quickly and shoved them under his pillow. “Thanks, Senior. Sorry for the trouble.”
“Where’d you get these pills?” Ning Shuang asked.
Zhu Ran mumbled evasively, “Oh, you know, just some random vitamins I picked up.”
Zhu Ran clearly had no intention of explaining where they’d come from—and since Ning Shuang had stepped in to help right after the incident, he had no reason to suspect the pills had anything to do with his collapse.
Ning Shuang could guess why he was dodging the question. A guy relying on drugs to build muscle and stamina? Admitting that out loud would be embarrassing. If Ning Shuang didn’t set things straight now, Zhu Ran might keep popping them even after getting discharged.
“My great-grandpa’s a traditional Chinese medicine doctor. I know a bit about this stuff myself. Keep taking these ‘vitamins,’ and you’ll end up living in this hospital for good,” Ning Shuang said.
“What?” Zhu Ran stared at him in shock.
Ning Shuang pressed on. “So where exactly did you buy them?”
Caught off guard by Ning Shuang’s words, Zhu Ran blurted it out without thinking. “The… the night market over by University City.”
Ning Shuang lowered his long lashes, pondering for a moment before standing up. “Alright. I’ve already gotten in touch with your counselor and your parents. Remember to call them back and let them know you’re okay. I’m heading out.”
“And don’t forget to ask your counselor for a leave slip—send it to me.”
“Got it. Thanks, Senior.” Mo Qi walked Ning Shuang to the door and saw him off.
Ning Shuang stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. Two floors down, the doors opened, and someone stepped in. Ning Shuang glanced up instinctively, shifting to make room—only to catch sight of a familiar figure passing by outside.
“Wait!” Ning Shuang called out to the person in the hallway, but of course, they couldn’t hear him.
The person already in the elevator quickly hit the door-open button for him. Ning Shuang thanked them, dashed out, and ran after the disappearing figure.
“Ji Huaizhi!” Ning Shuang shouted.
He raced down the corridor and even out to the stairwell, but there was no sign of Ji Huaizhi anywhere.
Had it been a trick of the light? Ning Shuang froze in place, staring into the empty stairwell as the thunderous pounding of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears.
He pulled his silenced phone from his pocket and saw a bunch of new messages waiting, including ones from Ji Huaizhi.
【Ji Huaizhi: Have you been back home?】
【Ji Huaizhi: The shoes don’t look right.】
【Ji Huaizhi: I’m out buying groceries. Want to come home for dinner?】
The messages had come in over half an hour ago—right around when Ning Shuang had arrived at the hospital.
If Ji Huaizhi had been at the hospital, had he spotted Ning Shuang and sent those messages as cover?
Had that really been him just now?
Before Ning Shuang could dwell on it further, voices drifted over from nearby.
“Excuse me, could you take a look at this and tell me what it means?”
“Sorry, I’m busy. Ask someone else.”
“Excuse me, could you…”
“…”
“Excuse me, could you take a look at this and tell me what it means?” At the end of the hallway, an elderly woman clutched a few sheets of paper, asking every passerby what they said.
Ning Shuang set his other thoughts aside for the moment and approached her. “Grandma, is there anything I can help you with?”
Like a lifeline had appeared, the old woman thrust the lab reports into his hands. “Young man, I can’t make heads or tails of these words. What do they mean?”
Ning Shuang scanned the sheets quickly, then crouched down to speak to her in a gentle voice. “It says to go pay at the main lobby on the first floor, then take the receipt to the pharmacy to pick up your meds.”
“I… I don’t get it!”
Ning Shuang hesitated but couldn’t bring himself to leave her there alone. He took her hand and guided her into the elevator, pressing the button for the first floor. “I’ll take you down there.”
“Thank you so much! Thank you, young man.”
“No trouble at all.”
…
It was just a simple payment and pickup, so Ning Shuang had the old woman sorted with her medicine in no time at all.
Once they were done, he flagged down a taxi back home and finally replied to Ji Huaizhi’s messages.
【Ning Shuang: Yeah, went home to grab something. Wondered where you were.】
【Ning Shuang: On my way back now. You’re injured—let me handle dinner.】
Ji Huaizhi didn’t reply after that, not even by the time Ning Shuang got home.
Even through the door, Ning Shuang caught the savory aroma of stir-fried vegetables wafting from inside. He unlocked it and stepped in. Ning Dundun scampered over, rubbing against his legs. Ning Shuang gave its head a pat, then glanced at the shoe rack.
He hung his bag on the coat rack and headed to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Ji Huaizhi had an apron tied around his waist and wore casual clothes as he stir-fried vegetables. Steam rose from the sizzling wok, and the clanging of the spatula brought Ning Shuang back to his senses.
Ning Shuang quietly let out a breath and walked over to Ji Huaizhi’s side. “Ji Huaizhi, I’m back.”
“You’ve worked hard,” Ji Huaizhi said.
Ning Shuang’s expression froze for a moment, puzzled. “Huh?”
“I heard someone from our class fainted from heatstroke. Did you go to the hospital to look after him?” Ji Huaizhi tilted his head to look at Ning Shuang as he asked.
“Oh, right. I went to the hospital.”
Ji Huaizhi said, “Go rest first. I’ll handle dinner.”
Ning Shuang glanced at the beads of sweat on his forehead, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and handed it over. “Here, wipe your sweat. Is there anything I can help with?”
Ji Huaizhi took the handkerchief and wiped the fine layer of sweat from his brow. Strands of damp hair still clung to his face, and the bandage on his forehead somehow made him look even more… pitiable?
“Not for now,” Ji Huaizhi said, shaking his head. A second later, he added, “I bought some fruit. You can wash a bit to eat, or put it in the fridge if you don’t want any.”
“Okay.” Ning Shuang nodded and turned toward the dining table. He rummaged through the bag and pulled out the fruit—and at the same time, spotted the shopping receipt tucked inside.
Ning Shuang paused for a beat before picking up the receipt. The payment timestamp read 4:30 p.m., right around the time he himself had gotten home.
Had Ji Huaizhi really just gone to the supermarket? And that person he’d seen at the hospital who looked so much like him—he hadn’t been able to find any trace of them after all. So maybe it had been a case of mistaken identity?
That would mean he’d wrongly accused Ji Huaizhi for nothing.
Ning Shuang stared blankly at the receipt for a long while until Ji Huaizhi emerged from the kitchen carrying a finished dish. Snapping back to reality, he said, “I’ll go wash the fruit now. We can have it after dinner.”
He shoved the receipt back into the shopping bag haphazardly—it was already crumpled from his grip—grabbed the strawberries and green grapes, and skirted past Ji Huaizhi into the kitchen.
Ji Huaizhi lowered his gaze to the wrinkled receipt in the bag, his eyes flickering briefly. Then he picked up the bag and carried it into the kitchen as well.
Dinner consisted of two vegetable dishes and a soup, with Ning Shuang preparing the final soup course. After all, Ji Huaizhi was still recovering from an injury, and Ning Shuang couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt.
As they ate, Ning Shuang eyed the bandage on Ji Huaizhi’s forehead and struck up a conversation. “How’s your injury? Does it still hurt?”
“It’s fine. Not too painful anymore.”
Not too painful? That implied it still hurt a little. Ning Shuang’s mind turned, and he got the picture right away.
He asked again, “Do you need to change the dressing later?”
Ji Huaizhi nodded.
“I’ll help you,” Ning Shuang offered. “It’d be inconvenient for you to do it yourself.”
“All right. Thank you,” Ji Huaizhi replied politely.
“No need to thank me. If we look at it from afar, you’re the freshman I’m responsible for. Up close, we’re roommates sharing a place!”
Whether from afar or up close, both ways of putting it made their relationship sound so distant, nowhere near intimate enough.
Ji Huaizhi pressed his lips together briefly, a flicker of unhappiness stirring inside him, though he didn’t let it show on his face.
After dinner, they took the dog for a walk. By the time they returned, it was past nine in the evening.
Ji Huaizhi went back to his room to change clothes. He’d just finished when a knock came at the door. He opened it to find Ning Shuang standing there with a medicine kit in hand.
“I’ve come to change your dressing. Almost forgot about it,” Ning Shuang said with a smile.
Ji Huaizhi met Ning Shuang’s eyes, his throat bobbing once. Then he stepped aside to let him in. “Thank you. Come on in.”
Ning Shuang poked his head inside first, glancing left and right. “I’m coming in, then.”
He looked just like a curious little puppy.
Ji Huaizhi’s expression softened noticeably as he watched him.
He led Ning Shuang to his desk and took a seat in the chair without prompting. Ning Shuang set the medicine kit on the desk and leaned in close. “I’ll get started on the dressing change, then? Let me know if it hurts.”
“All right,” Ji Huaizhi said. He parted his legs slightly to give Ning Shuang easier access.
He felt Ning Shuang gently lift the gauze, then blow softly on the wound. A cool sensation washed over his forehead, and Ji Huaizhi’s breath caught. His back went rigid.
So close.
Ning Shuang’s lower abdomen was merely an inch from the tip of his nose. All he could smell was Ning Shuang’s scent—fragrant, like the warmth of sunlight.
“Does it hurt?” Ning Shuang asked carefully as he applied ointment to the wound.
“Uh…” Ji Huaizhi winced. Ning Shuang immediately blew on it again. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be gentler.”
Ning Shuang bent at the waist a little more, drawing them even closer. Ning Shuang’s breath fanned across his face.
The drawstring from Ning Shuang’s hoodie brushed over his sensitive lips. Ji Huaizhi’s eyelashes fluttered, and his hands clenched tighter on his knees.
“All done.” With the final step complete, Ning Shuang withdrew his hands and planted them on his hips. He took half a step back and beamed at Ji Huaizhi with satisfaction.
Ji Huaizhi reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He tilted his head back, his eyes looking up at Ning Shuang with a pitiful expression. In a warm, gentle tone, he said, “Thank you.”
Ning Shuang squeezed his eyes shut. That face was simply against the rules…
He clutched at his chest, about to speak, when two bird calls came from outside the window. “Coo-coo.”
Ning Shuang followed the sound and peered out. The bird had actually flown in through a gap in the window and landed steadily on the side table. Ning Shuang recognized it at once—it was that beautiful bird he’d been seeing around lately.
From the looks of it, the bird wasn’t afraid of anyone in the house. Ning Shuang hadn’t taken it in, though, so was it Ji Huaizhi’s pet?
Curious, Ning Shuang asked, “Is this your bird?”
Ji Huaizhi denied it without hesitation. “I don’t know it.”
Xuan Que tilted its head. Coo-coo?
