Family was a very special kind of identity. From the perspective of human social development, parents didn’t start out as parents—they were just individuals in the tribe. Driven by biological instincts and social customs, they formed stable relationships.
They reproduced and built families.
In this small network, the members’ roles became “family.”
Lin Se froze for a couple of seconds after the ER doctor mentioned “parents.” Biologically speaking, Bo Chengyan and Qi Jing didn’t share a drop of blood.
But judging from the current situation…
He seemed to have stepped into the role of the “family” that had been missing from Qi Jing’s life.
Or rather, one person filling two roles—both parents covered.
“Does this emotional fever have a specific cause? Has it been checked before?”
The ER doctor asked patiently again.
Before Lin Se could respond, his peripheral vision caught sight of a tall, upright figure. Then something was tossed into his hands.
Electrolyte drinks, plain bread, a few hot rice balls… and even a lollipop?
“He’s a high school senior. He gets anxious before big exams and runs a low fever.”
“He bruises easily too—if a wound gets inflamed, his temperature spikes.”
Bo Chengyan’s voice was low and resonant, carrying a steady calm that cut through the chaos of the ER.
The doctor nodded in understanding. “Got it. Senior year this year… that explains it.”
But then he glanced down at the kid, frowned up at Bo Chengyan, and finally seemed to piece something together with a sudden look of realization.
“You’re one young dad…”
The man before him had an air of effortless refinement. That watch… Patek Philippe?
Rich folks really knew how to take care of themselves.
When no one replied, the doctor assumed he was just being polite and explained in earnest. “No, really—I’ve seen mother-daughter duos who could pass for sisters, same age and all. You’re the youngest father I’ve ever met.” He gave a thumbs-up.
“…”
“Thanks.”
The doctor had only made that bit of small talk before turning back to check on Qi Jing in the chair. “Finish this IV bag and you’re good to go home. Since it’s stress-related, just take the kid out for some fun.”
With that, he left.
One second. Two seconds.
Lin Se couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.
“Hahaha… you take real good care of yourself…”
Bo Chengyan showed no reaction. He simply bent down toward the sleeping Qi Jing, his fingers gently parting the hair from the boy’s forehead to check his temperature.
Much better now.
Lin Se suddenly felt like an idiot for laughing and shut his mouth.
“It’s actually not bad—his fever’s coming down.”
“Mm.”
Qi Jing seemed restless in his sleep, his face shifting groggily. The ER was short on beds, so milder cases like his were relegated to chairs. The IV drip worked fine, but it made for lousy rest.
Lin Se had already folded some clothes into a makeshift pillow, but holding one position for long made anyone’s neck ache.
“Should we wake him up?”
The suggestion hadn’t gotten a reply yet when Bo Chengyan reached out to cradle the back of Qi Jing’s neck, lifting it just enough to ease the strain.
“…”
The boy’s furrowed brows smoothed out a little. He turned his face, nestling into the crook of Bo Chengyan’s arm.
Half an hour passed like that.
When the nurse approached, her voice had started out loud, but she fell silent at the sight of them.
“Name?”
“Qi Jing.”
She cross-checked the name on the IV bag with the patient and murmured softly, “Aww, out like a light… Better get him home to bed.”
That was when Qi Jing stirred to partial awareness. He watched the nurse’s movements in a haze until he felt a tug in his vein—like something yanking from inside. It stung.
His hand jerked back on instinct.
Lin Se pressed it down gently to hold it in place.
“It’s two o’clock. You should head back soon,” someone said.
“Where’d you go? Why’d you change clothes?”
Qi Jing’s eyes were still blurry, and he felt his shirt being lifted. His head lolled to the side without strength.
Then a hand slipped under his armpit, a familiar scent drawing close. No thought needed—his arms reached out.
He was scooped up.
Something murmured near his ear.
Hard to make out.
“You didn’t even see a doctor? Just took a cold shower? Was that okay?”
“No trouble. Thanks for tonight—get some rest.”
That was another voice. Qi Jing felt the vibration through his shoulder. It sounded nice.
Lin Se trailed behind, his arm crooked around a jacket and odds and ends. “What’s the trouble? You took me in, remember? That’s what friends are for.”
The car was already waiting outside.
Lin Se thought for a moment before saying, “I’ll grab a cab. Having your driver drop me off first would just waste time. Let Little Jing get a proper sleep.”
Bo Chengyan didn’t argue. “Watch yourself. Text when you’re home.”
The young man waved, turning away with easy confidence—a far cry from the guarded tension he’d shown on arrival.
After all, from what he’d observed these past days, no one took better care of Qi Jing than Bo Chengyan did.
Society’s rules might call it wrong.
But they offered no better alternative.
Qi Jing was just an ordinary kid who needed love to thrive.
If someone uprooted that source of nourishment in the name of “doing what’s best,” who would water the soil in its place?
Lin Se couldn’t have noticed Qi Jing’s discomfort in his sleep. Nor could he have stood frozen in one pose for thirty minutes.
The young man paused mid-stride and glanced up at the moon overhead.
~~~
After that, Qi Jing lost all awareness. He vaguely sensed returning home, his mouth being gently pried open to feed him some liquid food.
He didn’t want it.
But the man seemed to know his every reflex. Before he could spit it out, his chin was tilted upward, cool fingertips gliding lightly over his throat to urge it down.
Just like feeding a fledgling bird that had only just hatched.
Bo Chengyan finished tending to him one-handed and set the bowl back on Auntie’s tray. “You’ve been a huge help. It’s late—I’ll give you a bonus.”
Always so impeccably thoughtful.
Qi Jing slept straight through until noon. Hunger left him lightheaded, and he sat up from bed with his mind a total blank.
996 snored away under the covers, half-buried until it finally wriggled free.
Qi Jing glanced down at his clothes. Pajamas…
Memories trickled back. The boy’s eyes met the system’s beady stare.
【Ah…】
【Fever fry your brain?】
Qi Jing couldn’t muster a proper response—it was all too jumbled. Just then, a knock came at the door.
Auntie’s voice called from outside. “Little Jing, you up? Time to eat.”
“Coming!”
His voice came out hoarse. He frowned and touched his throat.
He bolted to the bathroom. “Be right there, Auntie!”
As he brushed his teeth, he pieced together yesterday’s chaos.
Florence Restaurant… one-night stand, Ruan Heng… then Bo…
Clatter.
The toothbrush fell.
Qi Jing stared blankly for a moment before unscrewing the head and grabbing a fresh one from the spare.
—I kissed him.
—But he doesn’t like me.
996, seeing no reaction, floated over lazily. It wrapped its body around the new brush head, bit the packaging open with illusory teeth, and fitted it on for him.
Smug as could be.
Qi Jing brushed absently, then rushed through a shower—like he was stalling for time.
It wasn’t until he headed downstairs that he remembered to ask 996, “Why wasn’t I erased?”
996 had been in follow mode the whole time, thinking it was time to go through the door without even opening its eyes. It splatted flat against the wood like a pancake.
Its beady eyes blinked.
【Little Jing, your goldfinch gig is done.】
“But I’m still at Brocade River Villas.”
996 peeled itself off the door board by board, resuming its lima bean shape with a pitiful air.
【That ties into last night.】
Qi Jing’s grip tightened on the doorknob. He bit the inside of his cheek, at a loss. “Sorry—”
【Ruan Heng topped a rent boy. Sigh… now he’s the gong.】
The boy slumped against the door, flustered. “I-I kissed Bo Chengyan…”
As if confessing a crime, over and over.
To keep the ache at bay.
996 replied, 【I know. Just the cheek, right?】
“…”
【But the plot fell apart an hour ago. I was busy blocking the shou… didn’t see it coming…】
Its tone had started guilty.
But it quickly shifted to outrage.
【The protagonist gong raided my base!】
996 zipped back and forth through the air, ranting nonstop. 【I could’ve taken you straight to Harbor City—your room was all set up.】
【But now those two… outrageous!】
One out-of-character slip, one base raid.
Knock knock.
The door sounded again.
Qi Jing blinked in surprise and yanked it open. “Sorry, Auntie, I…”
It was Bo Chengyan.
996 was about to bare its teeth when Qi Jing’s wrist was tugged outward. He stumbled a few steps, steadying himself with a hand.
Bo Chengyan reached up to feel his forehead.
“No fever.”
Qi Jing shifted uncomfortably, pulling his hand free.
Someone else’s husband.
“Why aren’t you at work?” he asked.
Qi Jing figured he was deftly changing the subject as he lowered his head.
“Don’t feel like it,” Bo Chengyan replied.
Truth be told, it wasn’t the most dignified thing for an elder to say.
But he said it anyway, brow furrowed, then asked outright, “You won’t let me hold your hand?”
The young man froze, looking up in a panic.
“You don’t have to let me,” Bo Chengyan continued. “But if it bothers you, tell me. Maybe I can fix it.”
That wasn’t it at all.
Qi Jing wanted to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Lately, he just kept feeling like he was… what was the word again?
Right. The other man.
996 froze. Its beady eyes went wide.
“No rush,” Bo Chengyan said. “I don’t need an answer right now.”
He held out his hand, perfectly calm. “How about grabbing my sleeve instead?”
“The stairs are steep. You’ll trip.”
996: 【……】
Qi Jing didn’t know what else to do. His hand had already latched on. It wasn’t until they were seated at the dining table that he realized and asked, “There’s an elevator in the house.”
“Yes,” Bo Chengyan confirmed.
“Then…”
“It’s broken.”
That was that. When certain emotions surged through the human brain, people ended up doing the most inexplicable things.
Falling in love turns you into an idiot.
Scientifically proven.
—《996 Work Manual》
