Chapter 42
Pei Songji waited outside the operating room.
The door remained closed.
He knew the surgery would take hours, he should be patient, but his anxiety grew with each passing minute.
Time seemed to stretch and distort, each second an eternity.
He had always been patient, a quality instilled in him by his father, a crucial trait for success in business. Waiting had never bothered him.
But this was different.
His patience evaporated, replaced by a desperate longing for the surgery to end, for Jing Ciying to emerge safely.
But he knew he had to wait, so he forced himself to remain calm.
Everything would be fine.
He had hired the best doctors, and Jing Ciying’s will to live had been rekindled. His condition had improved significantly.
He would be fine.
But he couldn’t shake the lingering fear.
He was afraid, more afraid than he had been when he took over the family business years ago, but he hadn’t shown it in front of Jing Ciying.
He knew Jing Ciying was even more terrified.
He had maintained his composure until Jing Ciying was wheeled into the operating room.
Then, he had finally allowed himself to feel the fear.
It was a long and agonizing wait.
The estimated surgery time was five to six hours.
But darkness fell, and the door remained closed.
He resisted the urge to knock, forcing himself to stay put, his patience stretched to its limit.
Finally, the door opened.
He rushed towards the surgeon. “Doctor, how is he?” he asked, his voice filled with anxiety, his hand gripping the doctor’s arm.
The surgeon, looking exhausted, removed his mask. “The surgery was successful.”
The tension that had been coiling in his stomach released, his heart finally calming down.
“Good, good, that’s good…” he repeated, his mind blank, unable to process anything else.
As the surgeon turned to leave, he remembered his manners. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much.”
He tried to look inside the operating room, but the surgeon stopped him. “Mr. Pei, you can’t go in. The nurses will bring him out soon. He’s still unconscious from the anesthesia. He’ll be in the ICU tonight.”
He suppressed his impatience. “Okay. Is there anything I need to prepare?”
“There’s a list on the ICU wall. You can check it later.”
“Alright.”
The door opened again, and Jing Ciying was wheeled out, his eyes slightly open, his gaze unfocused.
Pei Songji rushed forward, taking his hand, which was still cold.
“The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet,” the nurse explained.
“Okay.”
“When will he wake up?”
“Probably tomorrow.”
The nurse started wheeling him towards the ICU.
Pei Songji wanted to follow, to stay by his side, but he knew he couldn’t. He forced himself to let go.
But as he did so, he felt a weak pressure on his hand.
He looked down to see Jing Ciying’s fingers weakly gripping his.
Jing Ciying felt like he had just closed his eyes for a moment, and the surgery was over.
He woke up in an unfamiliar place.
A nurse gave him some water.
He wanted to ask where he was, but he couldn’t speak, his mind foggy. He drifted back to sleep.
He woke up again, in a different room.
A man, not a nurse, was caring for him.
He felt like he knew the man, but he couldn’t remember who he was. He was very handsome, like a movie star.
He wanted to ask for his number, but he still couldn’t speak.
The man seemed to be saying something, but he couldn’t hear him. His mind drifted, and he fell asleep again.
He slept for a long time, waking up in darkness, a bright light above him, hurting his eyes.
He wanted to ask them to turn off the light, but he still couldn’t speak.
But this time, he felt pain, a sharp, searing pain, starting in his head, then his throat, then spreading throughout his body, making him tremble.
“Hurts…” he whimpered, the sound barely audible.
The handsome man appeared, holding his hand tightly.
As the pain intensified, his mind cleared, and he remembered who the man was.
Pei Songji.
His former boss.
The realization made him less handsome somehow.
Pei Songji tried to give him some water, but he couldn’t swallow.
Pei Songji seemed to understand, just holding his hand, offering silent comfort.
The pain was excruciating, his body slick with cold sweat. He wanted more painkillers.
Then he saw tears in Pei Songji’s eyes.
He was surprised, then amused.
He wanted to ask, I’m the one in pain, why are you crying?
But he couldn’t speak. He squeezed Pei Songji’s hand.
Pei Songji, as if embarrassed by his own display of emotion, turned away.
The pain was unbearable, and he thought he would die, but then he mercifully lost consciousness again.
When he woke up again, he had only one thought.
Sleep was bliss.
The first few days after surgery were agonizing, but he spent most of the time asleep, so it wasn’t too bad.
His wounds started healing, and the pain subsided.
But then a new problem emerged.
Pei Songji had been constantly by his side, wiping his face, brushing his teeth, feeding him…
It was unsettling.
Although Pei Songji had been caring for him before the surgery, he had still been able to move around, hadn’t needed so much assistance.
But now, he was helpless, reliant on Pei Songji for even the most basic, most intimate tasks. He hated it.
He could only hope for a speedy recovery.
But even after his wounds healed and he could move around, Pei Songji continued to fuss over him, wiping his hands, feeding him, helping him to the bathroom…
As Pei Songji was feeding him lunch one day, he tried to assert his independence. “I can eat by myself.”
But Pei Songji didn’t let go of the spoon. “You’ll strain your stitches. Be careful.”
“I can manage.”
“No, you can’t.”
He scooped up some soup, blew on it gently, and held it to Jing Ciying’s lips. “Open wide,” he said, his tone almost coaxing.
Jing Ciying felt a strange sense of embarrassment but couldn’t argue with him. He opened his mouth and swallowed the soup.
Pei Songji smiled, offering him another spoonful.
Although he hadn’t said anything, Jing Ciying sensed a strange satisfaction in his demeanor.
“You…”
“What is it?” Pei Songji asked.
“Are you trying to make me so dependent on you that I can’t leave?” he asked, half-joking.
He had expected Pei Songji to deny it, to let him eat by himself.
But Pei Songji just stared at him, as if seriously considering the possibility.
Then he said, “Yes.”
Jing Ciying: “…”
“If that’s what it takes to keep you by my side, then it’s worth a try.”
Jing Ciying was surprised by his unexpected honesty.
Pei Songji, seeing his reaction, quickly said, “I’m just kidding. I know you don’t like me,” a self-deprecating smile touching his lips, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
Jing Ciying’s heart ached for him. “Who says I don’t like you?” he blurted out, his mouth moving faster than his brain, wanting to comfort him.
He instantly regretted his words, clamping his mouth shut, trying to salvage the situation.
But it was too late. Pei Songji’s hand trembled, almost spilling the soup.
Jing Ciying’s face burned with embarrassment.
“I… I didn’t mean that. The anesthesia… it’s still affecting me. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
His excuses sounded flimsy, even to himself.
He wanted to hide under the covers.
But that was childish. He was an adult; he had to face the awkwardness. He stopped explaining, reaching for the spoon.
But Pei Songji pulled it away.
“It’s cold,” he said, scooping up another spoonful and offering it to him.
Jing Ciying ate it, the familiar act suddenly charged with an unspoken intimacy. He couldn’t eat anymore.
“I’m full,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes.” He tried to change the subject. “I want to see Happy.”
He hadn’t seen his cat since the surgery. He missed him terribly.
Pei Songji reached for his phone, then stopped. “Can you repeat what you said earlier?”
“What?” Jing Ciying pretended not to know what he was talking about.
Pei Songji, seeing his evasiveness, handed him the phone.
Jing Ciying opened the pet camera app, ignoring him, hoping to move past the awkward moment.
But Pei Songji wouldn’t let it go. “I heard you the first time,” he said.
Jing Ciying almost dropped the phone, his heart pounding.
He glared at Pei Songji, trying to appear unfazed.
But Pei Songji just smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Stop smiling,” Jing Ciying said, flustered.
“Okay,” Pei Songji agreed readily. “But can you answer a question first?”
“What question?”
Pei Songji leaned closer, his gaze intense, Jing Ciying’s reflection captured in his eyes.
Jing Ciying’s throat tightened. He was about to pull away when Pei Songji asked, “You like me… a little, don’t you?”
