Chapter 41
Thanks to Pei Songji’s resources, Jing Ciying’s treatment plan and surgery date were quickly finalized.
Both Pei Songji and the doctors reassured him that everything would be fine, but their expressions betrayed their true concerns. They were trying to comfort him.
He pretended to believe them, diligently taking his medication, undergoing tests, and forcing himself to eat, trying to gain strength.
Pei Songji, seeing his improvement, was delighted, becoming even more attentive, even attempting to make soup for him, although the results were… questionable.
But Jing Ciying didn’t complain, dutifully finishing the entire bowl.
Pei Songji, encouraged by his apparent enjoyment, asked, “How is it? Not bad, right?”
“Delicious,” Jing Ciying lied.
Pei Songji, relieved, was about to serve himself a bowl when Jing Ciying stopped him.
“What’s wrong?”
Jing Ciying struggled to come up with an excuse. “It’s so good, I want to finish it all myself.”
“Really? That good?” Pei Songji, his ego inflated, said, “Then I’ll make more tomorrow.”
“No, thank you,” Jing Ciying said quickly.
“Why not?”
“It’s too much trouble. I don’t want you to tire yourself out.”
“It’s not a problem. It’s quick and easy,” Pei Songji insisted.
Jing Ciying couldn’t think of another excuse, so he let it go.
For the next few days, Pei Songji brought him homemade soup every day.
Jing Ciying managed to choke it down at first, but one day, the taste was so unbearable he vomited after a single sip.
Pei Songji, finally realizing something was wrong, tried the soup himself and fell silent.
“I followed the recipe exactly. Why does it taste like this?” he wondered, his culinary confidence shattered.
Jing Ciying, seeing his distress, said gently, “Not everyone is a chef. You’re just not good at cooking.”
Pei Songji was silent again, then asked, “If it was that bad, why did you drink it before?”
Jing Ciying was taken aback. When had he become so tolerant of Pei Songji’s eccentricities?
He knew the answer but didn’t reveal it, deflecting the question with a joke. “You made it yourself. I had to show my support.”
Then, fearing further interrogation, he changed the subject. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Okay,” Pei Songji agreed readily, pleased by any positive change in Jing Ciying’s behavior.
They went to the hospital garden, a peaceful oasis filled with flowers and trees.
They walked side by side, the warm sunlight on their faces.
Jing Ciying, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, didn’t want to return to his room. They sat on a bench, and he asked to see Happy on Pei Songji’s phone.
Happy was lying by his bedroom door, which was open.
“He misses you,” Pei Songji said softly.
Jing Ciying didn’t respond, just touched the screen, as if trying to reach Happy.
Pei Songji, knowing how much he missed his cat, said, “You’ll be home soon. The surgery is tomorrow.”
Jing Ciying looked at him, a mixture of fear and longing in his eyes.
He was still afraid.
Afraid of the surgery, afraid of not waking up, afraid of never seeing Pei Songji again.
He stared at him, as if trying to memorize his face.
“What is it?” Pei Songji asked, noticing his intense gaze.
Jing Ciying quickly looked away. “Nothing.”
“Don’t worry. The doctor said everything will be fine.”
Jing Ciying didn’t believe him, but he simply said, “Okay.”
He couldn’t sleep that night, his anxiety growing as the surgery approached.
Pei Songji stayed with him, chatting to distract him.
They talked about work, and Jing Ciying suddenly remembered Pei Songji’s responsibilities. “What about the company? You’ve been here all this time.”
“It’s fine. My grandfather is taking care of it.”
The mention of Elder Pei reminded him of Pei Songji’s confession. “Is he still angry with you?”
Pei Songji smiled. “No, he’s not.”
“Really?” Jing Ciying didn’t believe him.
“Yes. He visited me a few days ago. He agreed after that.”
“He visited you?” Jing Ciying almost sat up in bed.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A few days ago.”
Seeing his alarm, Pei Songji quickly reassured him. “Don’t worry. It was nothing serious. He just… yelled at me a bit, then left.”
“What did he say?” Jing Ciying asked, curious.
“He said I was… blinded by infatuation, hopeless.”
Jing Ciying knew he was referring to him. He blushed, lying back down.
“What did you say?”
“I told him he was right.”
Jing Ciying chuckled. “He’s old, you know. You shouldn’t provoke him.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Pei Songji said. “And I knew he had already accepted it when he came to visit me.”
“Accepted it?”
“Yes. He’ll agree to our relationship,” Pei Songji said, smiling at him.
The word “our” sent a warmth spreading through Jing Ciying’s chest, but it felt too intimate, too presumptuous. “There’s no ‘us’,” he said quickly.
“I know. Wishful thinking,” Pei Songji said, unfazed.
Jing Ciying was silent for a moment. “Did he really agree?”
“Yes. I told him I couldn’t live without you.”
“You…” Jing Ciying was speechless.
“What did he say?”
“He said I was just like my father and that I could do whatever I wanted.”
Jing Ciying’s parents had already passed away when he started working for Pei Songji. Pei Songji had always been reticent about his family, so Jing Ciying was suddenly curious.
“Were your parents… very much in love?”
The question seemed to trigger a painful memory. Pei Songji fell silent, closing his eyes.
After a while, he spoke. “You know, in our circle, marriages are often arranged. There’s not much… love. My father was supposed to marry someone else, an arranged marriage. But then he met my mother. It was love at first sight. But she wasn’t from a prominent family, so my grandfather disapproved. But my father insisted, broke off the engagement, and married my mother. They were very happy. But then…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Jing Ciying knew the rest of the story.
A car accident. Although Elder Pei had managed to salvage the situation, the Pei family had suffered a significant blow.
Pei Songji, barely in his twenties, had been forced to take over the family business.
It was a painful memory, so Jing Ciying didn’t pry.
He wanted to change the subject, but Pei Songji continued.
“So you have to get better,” he said softly. “Even if you never agree to be with me, I’ll still be here.”
Jing Ciying didn’t sleep well that night, finally drifting off just before dawn, only to be woken up shortly afterwards.
Pei Songji was already awake, talking to the doctor in the hallway.
They entered the room together.
The doctor checked his vitals. “You’re doing well. Just relax. Everything will be fine after the surgery.”
Jing Ciying wasn’t sure if he was being truthful, but he simply said, “Okay.”
Pei Songji, seeing his apprehension, asked, “It’s still early. Do you want to sleep a little longer?”
Jing Ciying shook his head. “I’m not tired.”
“Alright. The surgery is scheduled for 9:00 am. You’re the first patient. It’ll be over soon,” Pei Songji reassured him.
Jing Ciying nodded. Despite his mental preparation, he felt a surge of anxiety, his hands trembling. He hid them under the covers.
The doctor, after a few more words of encouragement, left the room.
Pei Songji seemed to want to say something, but as he stood up, he felt a cold hand gripping his.
He turned to see Jing Ciying holding his hand.
He froze, surprised by the unexpected contact.
Jing Ciying’s fingers were slender, his grip weak, as if he might let go at any moment.
He wanted to hold his hand tighter, but he didn’t dare move, fearing he would startle him.
“What… what is it?” he stammered.
Jing Ciying, as if realizing what he had done, tried to pull his hand away.
But Pei Songji held on, sitting down beside him.
“Are you scared?” he asked gently.
Jing Ciying nodded, then shook his head.
Words of comfort seemed inadequate, so Pei Songji just held his hand tighter, trying to warm his cold fingers.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” he said softly.
“Okay.” Jing Ciying’s fingers curled inwards, seeking warmth.
But his body still felt cold.
“If…”
He was still afraid, worried about his aunt and Happy.
His aunt didn’t know about his illness, and Happy was waiting for him at home.
What if he didn’t make it?
He wanted to make arrangements, but Pei Songji gently covered his mouth, stopping his words.
He looked up at Pei Songji, who seemed to understand his unspoken fears.
“There are no ifs,” he said.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
