Chapter 17: Zhou Zhuoli: Zhou Zhuoli only felt that the sober Zhou Zhuoyuan was even…

Zhou Zhuoli got dressed and headed downstairs. He saw Zhou Zhuoyi sitting on the living room sofa, cradling a tablet as he played games.

“Why haven’t you gone to bed yet?” he asked.

Zhou Zhuoyi rubbed his eyes. “I can’t sleep. No idea why, but my eyelids keep twitching. I’ve got this bad feeling that something’s about to go wrong.”

Zhou Zhuoli walked over and ruffled his hair. “Don’t let your imagination run wild. What could possibly go wrong?”

Zhou Zhuoyi set the tablet aside and tilted his head up. “You’re heading out this late?”

Zhou Zhuoli lied without missing a beat. “Yeah, something came up at the company. You should turn in early.”

Once he was out the door, Zhou Zhuoli’s expression darkened.

Zhou Zhuoyuan really didn’t know how to take a break. Good thing the call had come to him—if it had gone to Zhu Wan or Zhou Zhuoyi, he didn’t even want to think about the fallout.

At noon, he’d pretended not to have the number saved, yet here the teacher was, calling him first thing.

At the hospital, the young woman was beside herself with worry. She’d come downstairs early to wait and, not knowing what Zhou Zhuoli looked like, approached everyone who lingered near the entrance. Then a Porsche pulled up nearby, and her gut told her that was him. She hurried over in quick strides.

~~~

Zhou Zhuoli signed his name on the surgical consent form. The doctor collected the form and hurried into the operating room.

Zhou Zhuoli had already sent the teacher on her way. She wasn’t Zhou Zhuoyuan’s homeroom teacher, but staying this late to handle everything showed plenty of kindness and responsibility.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had the homeroom teacher’s contact information but had no intention of letting her know about this—she’d contact his parents the moment she did.

He drafted a quick text to the homeroom teacher: he’d picked up Zhou Zhuoyuan that evening and would need a few days’ leave.

The surgery was minimally invasive and went off without a hitch. Zhou Zhuoyuan was wheeled into a private room.

The room had an accompanying bed, where Zhou Zhuoli planned to crash for the night.

He was drifting off when something felt off. He was a light sleeper—any small disturbance was enough to rouse him.

Zhou Zhuoli checked his phone. It was already five in the morning.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s breathing on the hospital bed was all over the place: rapid one moment, sluggish the next; heavy, then nearly silent.

Zhou Zhuoli got up and approached the bed. “You awake? What’s going on?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s eyelashes fluttered. He cracked his eyes open a sliver, clearly not fully conscious.

Zhou Zhuoli’s voice remained cold and firm. “I’ll get the doctor to take a look.”

It wasn’t clear if Zhou Zhuoyuan registered the words—he closed his eyes again.

The doctor gave him a quick once-over and assured Zhou Zhuoli, “This is normal. Once the anesthesia wears off, the incision stings a bit. He’ll tough it out.”

Zhou Zhuoli nodded. Once the doctor had gone, he pulled up a chair and sat at the bedside.

Zhou Zhuoyuan opened his eyes again but said nothing, simply gazing at him in silence. Sweat-matted strands of hair clung damply to his cheek.

Zhou Zhuoli gently wiped his face with a tissue, his tone softening for once. “Hurts too much to sleep?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan gave a faint “Mm,” looking all at once obedient and pitiable.

Zhou Zhuoyuan was a deep thinker. Even in those early days of trying to win them over, he’d been guarded and wary—not to mention how he’d bristled like a hedgehog later on. Now, settled and quiet, he wasn’t quite so irritating.

Zhou Zhuoli was just about to offer some comfort when he spotted Zhou Zhuoyuan’s farther hand slipping under the covers, heading straight for the abdominal incision.

His heart lurched. He grabbed the hand at once. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan was too weak to resist. Pinned, he looked up at Zhou Zhuoli, his eyes misting over. His voice came out thin and feeble, like the mewl of some underdeveloped cub. “I… I feel awful…”

Zhou Zhuoli gentled his tone. “Doesn’t mean you can scratch at it.”

Grievance welled up in those eyes.

Zhou Zhuoli tucked the hand back at his side, then slid his own under the covers, resting it carefully over the incision.

The skin beneath trembled faintly for a moment before easing.

“Better like this?”

Zhou Zhuoli’s palm was warm, the heat seeping in and muting the sharp edge of the pain.

Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t reply. His eyelids drooped, fluttering, as his breathing evened out.

Zhou Zhuoli stayed still, watching until Zhou Zhuoyuan slipped into sleep.

He eased his hand away. Before he could rise, Zhou Zhuoyuan’s mouth quirked in a pout, and a soft, barely audible hum escaped him—so quiet you’d miss it if you weren’t listening.

Zhou Zhuoli sighed inwardly and placed his hand back.

He held on until past six. By then, Zhou Zhuoyuan was either fast asleep or the pain had ebbed enough that he no longer stirred at the withdrawal.

Zhou Zhuoli let out a long breath and returned to the accompanying bed to catch up on some sleep.

Thanks to his internal clock, he was up before eight. After a quick wash-up, he decided to step out for some fresh air.

By the time Zhou Zhuoli returned to the hospital room after breakfast, Zhou Zhuoyuan was already awake.

Someone had raised the head of the bed, and Zhou Zhuoyuan was propped up against his pillow, staring blankly out the window, lost in thought.

He looked so frail, as if a stiff breeze could carry him away.

For a fleeting moment, Zhou Zhuoli felt as though his brother was both distant and near, yet terribly fragile, like he might vanish at the slightest touch.

But that illusion shattered the instant Zhou Zhuoyuan opened his mouth. “Give me back my phone!”

Zhou Zhuoli had indeed taken his phone, fearing he might reach out to their parents and stir up trouble.

His expression turned icy. “You pick a fight out of nowhere, get yourself hurt, and think that’ll make people pity you?”

“You psycho!” Zhou Zhuoyuan shot back.

Zhou Zhuoli’s face darkened. He’d thought that after last night’s care, their relationship might thaw a bit, but his brother was still just as unreasonable. “I’ve told you a million times to behave yourself. All you do is cause trouble. Mom and Dad are swamped as it is—do you really have to fight Little Yi for their attention, even if it means wrecking your own body?”

“Ha?” Zhou Zhuoyuan laughed in disbelief, but he quickly latched onto the implication. “Bottom line, you’re just scared they’ll worry about me and sidelined your precious Little Yi, right? Makes sense—after all, I’m their real son.”

His thoughts laid bare, Zhou Zhuoli clenched his fists.

Zhou Zhuoyuan sneered. “If you’re so afraid, just don’t tell them. You know damn well I hate playing the pity card.”

Zhou Zhuoli shot back, “Not tell them? Would you even agree to that?”

“Obviously!” Zhou Zhuoyuan commanded. “Hand over the phone. You don’t want my homeroom teacher or roommates blowing up their lines because they can’t reach me, do you?”

Zhou Zhuoli was used to laying into Zhou Zhuoyuan, and harsh words came naturally to him. Truth be told, he had no real intention of forcing his brother to keep quiet—it had been Zhou Zhuoyuan’s own idea, and he had no right to demand the same.

He placed the phone in Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hand.

To avoid any slip-ups, Zhou Zhuoyuan asked, “Did you say anything to them?”

Zhou Zhuoli’s face was taut. “I just told your homeroom teacher there was a family emergency and I was taking you home.”

With that explanation in place, Zhou Zhuoyuan fired off his replies one by one.

Zhou Zhuoli sat there stiffly, wrestling with himself over whether to tell Zhou Zhuoyuan that his earlier words didn’t have to stand—that he could go ahead and tell their parents.

Once the messages were sent, Zhou Zhuoyuan set down the hand with the IV needle. The nutrient solution dripped steadily, stinging with every drop, and he didn’t feel like moving anymore.

Yet his iron will drove him to say to Zhou Zhuoli, “Did you bring the tablet? Lend it to me—I want to listen to some online classes.”

Zhou Zhuoli refused. “You need to rest.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan had no patience for more debate. “If you don’t, I’ll tell them everything.”

Zhou Zhuoli fell silent for a moment, then said, “Go ahead and tell them.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan was at a loss for words.

He stopped asking and just used his phone for the online classes instead.

Zhou Zhuoyuan was stubborn—this wasn’t the first time Zhou Zhuoli had realized it, but it was the first time he’d seen his brother back down in front of him.

Zhou Zhuoli pulled out the bed’s tray table and set the tablet on it. “Just listen to the classes—no doing problems. If you get tired, call me.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan nodded eagerly.

Seeing the delight light up his face, Zhou Zhuoli couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.

After listening for a while, Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly remembered Zhou Zhuoli’s earlier hesitation. Uneasy, he stressed, “I’m not telling them, got it? You better not let anything slip either.”

That was exactly the outcome Zhou Zhuoli wanted. He agreed offhandedly, “Sure, deal.”

He headed back to the company that afternoon to handle some business and returned to the hospital that evening. He’d told the family he was swamped these days and staying at his city-center apartment.

Zhou Zhuoyuan was yawning when Zhou Zhuoli walked in. He’d taken the tablet and stylus away, but somehow Zhou Zhuoyuan had scrounged up a notebook and pen, and he was hunched over the tray table, scribbling furiously.

Zhou Zhuoli clearly saw him flinch as he entered. He sneered, “Scared now, are we?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan watched helplessly as Zhou Zhuoli snatched the tablet, notebook, and pen from under him, not daring to make a peep.

Zhou Zhuoli said, “No tablet for you tomorrow.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan promised hastily, “I won’t do it again tomorrow.”

When there was no response, he added in a tiny voice, “For real.”

Zhou Zhuoli didn’t commit either way. “Need to use the bathroom now?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan shook his head. “No, I just went.”

“Then sleep.”

The hospital room fell quiet once more.

~~~

In the dead of night, Zhou Zhuoli sat up abruptly without any warning. Hearing the movement, Zhou Zhuoyuan irritably snapped, “If you think I’m too noisy, just go back and sleep!”

He knew Zhou Zhuoli was a light sleeper, but he’d already been restraining himself as much as possible. Apart from his breathing occasionally growing a bit heavier, he hadn’t made any other sounds. He felt deeply aggrieved.

It was all Zhou Zhuoli’s fault for insisting on staying here to watch over him.

Zhou Zhuoli only thought that sober Zhuoyuan wasn’t cute in the slightest. He hadn’t even said a single word yet, and already Zhuoyuan was accusing him of finding him noisy without a second thought.

He dragged the chair back to its spot from yesterday and sat down. “What’s with the temper?”