RKNDL chapter 27

[Xie Zhinan]: You… are home alone?

[Y]: .

[Xie Zhinan]: No one to take care of you?

[Y]: …

[Xie Zhinan]: Is it serious?

Ten minutes passed, and Wen Yun still hadn’t replied.

Xie Zhinan began to worry if Wen Yun was already delirious from the fever. He hesitated for ages, typing and deleting several messages.

Was he feeling terrible?

Was the fever really bad?

Should he… go check on him?

Xie Zhinan’s fingers curled slightly as he hesitated.

Would it be weird for a subordinate to visit a sick boss?

But Wen Yun had driven him home last time… Wouldn’t it be polite to return the favor?

Xie Zhinan poked Wen Yun’s profile picture twice.

[Xie Zhinan] patted [Y].

[Xie Zhinan]: [Sneaky Cat.jpg]

[Xie Zhinan]: Boss, are you okay?

The reply came coldly.

[Y]: I’m already dead.

[Y]: If you keep asking, my corpse will grow cold too.

Xie Zhinan: “…”

Unable to bear the boss’s intimidation, Xie Zhinan reluctantly typed out another message.

[Xie Zhinan]: Then… should I come check on you?

[Xie Zhinan]: [Peeking Cat.jpg]

[Y]: .

[Y]: …Do you want to come?

Thankfully, Xie Zhinan’s sluggish brain finally kicked in. He instinctively sensed the deeper meaning behind Wen Yun’s words and replied:

[Xie Zhinan]: I voluntarily wish to visit my esteemed boss. It would be my honor to do so.

[Y]: …

[Y]: [Location Share]

The location was sent almost instantly, as if Wen Yun had been waiting.

Xie Zhinan stared blankly at the message on his screen, feeling like he had just willingly jumped into a trap someone else had set.

….

On Friday afternoon, while most people headed home or went out for fun, Xie Zhinan slung his small backpack over his shoulder, boarded a subway train going in the exact opposite direction of his home, and arrived at one of the most luxurious residential areas in City A.

Situated by the river, the neighborhood boasted beautiful views, with one apartment per floor and strict security.

It was worlds apart from the modest community where he lived.

Xie Zhinan stood nervously in Wen Yun’s entryway, clutching the strap of his bag tightly.

Wen Yun leaned against the wall, observing his cautious and uneasy demeanor. One hand held a black paper bag, while the other gripped his bag strap so tightly it looked like he was wringing it into pickled vegetables.

He looked incredibly nervous, as though he’d walked into a dangerous lair.

If someone didn’t know better, they might wonder what he was up to.

Wen Yun hadn’t originally planned to have Xie Zhinan come over.

But when Xie Zhinan happened to ask, the sickness that was sapping his willpower caused Wen Yun to give in to a trace of longing he couldn’t suppress.

Still, Xie Zhinan’s current behavior was a bit exasperating.

Finding it amusing, Wen Yun asked, “Xie Zhinan, is this place some kind of dragon’s den to you?”

He stood lazily, dressed casually in home clothes. His black hair fell softly around his face, devoid of the cold aloofness he usually exuded at work. It softened his features considerably.

He was much taller than Xie Zhinan, forcing Xie Zhinan to tilt his head slightly to look at him, meeting Wen Yun’s downward gaze.

“…No,” Xie Zhinan replied, swallowing against his dry throat.

His eyes lingered on Wen Yun’s face, examining him closely.

Wen Yun didn’t look well at all.

His face was flushed, his dark pupils seemed unfocused, and his dry, cracked lips were a stark sign of his illness.

…He really was sick.

Xie Zhinan’s brows furrowed as he said, “I’m sorry. If only you hadn’t driven me home last time.”

Seeing the regret in Xie Zhinan’s eyes, Wen Yun felt a sharp headache and took a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Xie Zhinan asked nervously.

Wen Yun lowered his lashes, taking in Xie Zhinan’s expressions—guilt, sadness, anxiety—all blending into a pure, innocent naivety.

After being indirectly blamed, Xie Zhinan still had the nerve to ask if he was okay.

Wen Yun’s pale lips moved slightly. Xie Zhinan held his breath, waiting, only to hear Wen Yun coolly say, “Xie Zhinan, what’s wrong with you?”

He’d been scolded again.

Xie Zhinan looked at him blankly, eyebrows drooping, eyes downcast, his expression full of confusion after being reprimanded. “What… did I do?”

Wen Yun looked at him with faint frustration. “Why do you always blame yourself first?”

Xie Zhinan blinked in confusion and hesitated before replying, “Because… you said I gave you the illness.”

So gullible—he believed everything.

Wen Yun’s heart softened a little, but the earlier remark still annoyed him. He placed a warm hand on Xie Zhinan’s forehead and flicked it lightly. “If I say you infected me, does that mean it’s true?”

Xie Zhinan: “0.0”

The force made Xie Zhinan’s head tilt back slightly, only for Wen Yun to steady it again. The spot where Wen Yun’s hand had landed felt warm and a little itchy. Xie Zhinan rubbed it with the back of his hand, resembling a cat washing its face with its paws.

“There’s a flu going around. It wasn’t because of you,” Wen Yun said.

Then why blame me…?

Xie Zhinan frowned slightly, about to ask, but stopped when he saw Wen Yun turn away and cough lightly into his hand.

Xie Zhinan’s attention shifted immediately, his worried gaze sneaking toward Wen Yun.

Noticing this, Wen Yun deliberately coughed a couple more times—low and restrained, emanating from deep within his chest, sounding weak and pitiful.

As expected, Xie Zhinan’s worry deepened. He stepped closer, hesitating before lightly placing a hand on Wen Yun’s back to soothe him.

Wen Yun wore a light gray silk pajama set, so thin that Xie Zhinan’s hand practically touched his bare skin.

Xie Zhinan’s warm, slightly damp palm rested gently against his back.

“Are you okay?” Xie Zhinan’s soft voice sounded near his ear.

With his gentle features and voice, Xie Zhinan hadn’t changed much from his teenage years.

Wen Yun’s coughing subsided, and he turned his head slightly, meeting Xie Zhinan’s gaze. In those eyes, he could see his own reflection.

Every strand of his hair was neat, even the ends carefully trimmed, though all that effort was lost on someone like Xie Zhinan.

Xie Zhinan only saw his thin face, his abnormally flushed cheeks, and his dry, cracked lips.

None of this, however, detracted from Wen Yun’s appearance. With his sharp, defined features, his face seemed incapable of looking bad.

As always, his expression was calm, his dark eyes unwavering, though the signs of illness added a faint vulnerability to his otherwise composed demeanor.

Xie Zhinan rarely avoided Wen Yun’s gaze, and it seemed like only at moments like this would he seriously and attentively observe Wen Yun—checking if he was uncomfortable or unhappy.

“…A bit better than before,” Wen Yun said, lowering his eyelids. His voice, hoarse from coughing, added, “But still not great.”

Xie Zhinan looked at him, his brows furrowing with worry. “Maybe… go to the hospital? I don’t know how to drive, but I can call a car for you.”

Even now, he’s thinking about booking me a car.

Wen Yun felt a hint of helplessness but couldn’t suppress a small smile at the corners of his lips.

Xie Zhinan was so anxious, flitting about like an ant on a hot pan. He clearly had no experience taking care of others; when he got sick himself, he just took some medicine, toughed it out, and waited to recover.

Now, he was racking his brains, trying to figure out how to care for a sick person, only for Wen Yun to suddenly smile, as if he didn’t care at all about how serious his illness might be.

Caught off guard, Xie Zhinan stammered, “W-why are you smiling?”

Wen Yun suppressed the smile tugging at his lips and said, “It’s nothing.”

Xie Zhinan wasn’t particularly curious. After all, some things were better left unexplored. He nodded, paused for a moment, then looked at Wen Yun again, earnestly asking once more, “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

“The family doctor has already come to take a look,” Wen Yun explained briefly. “Come in first.”

Xie Zhinan: “…”

He almost forgot—rich people have their own ways of doing things.

Xie Zhinan let out a low “oh,” then changed into the plush slippers Wen Yun had found for him.

He had been so focused on talking to Wen Yun earlier that he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about the slippers. But now, as he looked down carefully, he realized something was off.

“Mr. Wen…”

Wen Yun, walking ahead, heard the peculiar tone in Xie Zhinan’s voice and turned around.

“What is it?” He asked, looking back.

Xie Zhinan kept his head lowered, almost parallel to the ground, genuinely puzzled as he scrutinized the slippers on his feet. After a long moment of observation, he finally lifted his head, looked at Wen Yun with a confused expression, and asked a soul-piercing question:

“Why do the slippers in your house look exactly like the ones in mine?”

The kind you get two pairs for fifteen yuan with free shipping.

Xie Zhinan glanced at Wen Yun’s feet—sure enough, he was wearing the wolf-ear plush slippers.

One pair had rabbit ears, and the other had wolf ears.

One was gray-pink, and the other gray-blue.

Wen Yun stared at him, and Xie Zhinan stared back with equal confusion. After a few seconds, it seemed as though Xie Zhinan finally understood something. Enlightened, he exclaimed, “Do you really like the style of my slippers?”

Wen Yun: “…”

Wen Yun: “…………”

Wen Yun stared at his face for a few more seconds. Xie Zhinan still wore that bewildered and incomprehensible expression. After a long pause, Wen Yun, keeping his face expressionless, said, “Xie Zhinan, it’s better if you don’t talk to me.”

“Why…” Xie Zhinan had just started to ask when he suddenly realized something. It was best not to speak to Wen Yun right now. Startled, he quickly covered his mouth with his hand, obedient and quiet, blinking innocently at Wen Yun.

Wen Yun took a deep breath.

He wasn’t sure if his headache was caused by the flu or by Xie Zhinan.

Eighty percent, it was probably Xie Zhinan.

Casting a cold glance at Xie Zhinan, Wen Yun said, “Because you’re going to drive me to death.”

Xie Zhinan didn’t quite understand why Wen Yun was angry just because he said he liked the same style of slippers as him.

Maybe he didn’t want others to find out he liked this kind of plush style.

It was too out of character for Wen Yun.

Anyway, in the years Xie Zhinan had been with Wen Yun, he had never noticed Wen Yun had this kind of preference.

Thinking he had figured it all out, Xie Zhinan widened his round, watery eyes and said in a small, slightly placating voice, “Everyone’s entitled to their own aesthetic preferences.”

Wen Yun, at his limit, said, “Just shut up already.”