The veins on the back of Luo Hai’s hand bulged, his nails digging deep into Eugene’s skin.
Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck, sliding along his spine. Every muscle in his body was tense.
Only his eyes remained obediently shut, bangs falling over his forehead, concealing his expression. The only visible sign of his struggle was the faint trembling at the corners of his lips.
Eugene took in everything.
Every twitch of his fingers, every tightening of his muscles, every bead of sweat, every flutter of his eyelashes.
Like a slow-motion film, each frame burned itself into Eugene’s memory.
He knew—even if he lived another hundred years—he would never forget the way Luo Hai looked at this moment.
They were lucky. After the ideological education class ended, no one passed by the lecture hall for a long time. No one noticed that the supposedly empty hall had been locked from the inside. No one heard the occasional, less-than-proper noises coming from within.
When it was over, Eugene silently helped Luo Hai clean up and adjust his clothes.
Though Luo Hai’s cheeks still carried a lingering flush, his expression had already cooled.
“I can do it myself,” he said hoarsely, reaching to fasten the last button of his shirt.
Eugene didn’t speak. Instead, he grabbed Luo Hai’s right wrist and flipped it over. The wound on his palm was still bleeding. Dark red droplets seeped from the torn flesh, grotesque against his pale skin.
Luo Hai frowned. “Let go. I’ve had far worse injuries—this is nothing.”
Eugene ignored him, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket. Carefully, he wrapped it around Luo Hai’s palm, securing the wound with two gentle loops before tying a small knot at the end.
Luo Hai fell silent, watching Eugene’s movements.
Eugene was always the one with a sharp tongue, always spouting nonsense, always running his mouth. But now, he was quiet. In the vast hall, the silence was so deep that their breathing was the only sound left.
“…It’s done,” Eugene finally said. “Let’s go back.”
By the time they stepped out of the hall, the sky outside had turned completely dark.
Several prison guards spotted Eugene supporting Luo Hai as they exited, their faces flickering with surprise.
“We thought you had left a long time ago. What happened? Are you injured?”
Luo Hai glanced down at his palm. “It’s nothing, just an accident. You guys can carry on, I’ll be leaving soon.”
The guards nodded and were about to leave when Eugene suddenly called out to them.
“Excuse me, do you have a clean coat? Could you lend me one?”
The guards hesitated, glancing at Luo Hai. Seeing that he had no objection, they cautiously nodded and fetched a brand-new uniform coat from the duty room, handing it over.
Eugene thanked them, unfolded the coat, and draped it over Luo Hai’s shoulders.
The fabric shielded him from the cold wind, covering up his disheveled collar and the hickeys on his neck. It also gave him space to hide his injured hand.
Luo Hai’s fingers twitched slightly but, in the end, he didn’t react.
Outside the prison, Eugene hailed a taxi. Because of his prison uniform, several cars sped past without stopping.
After a while, one finally pulled over. The driver kept glancing back at him before finally saying earnestly, “Kid, prison is a serious place. Next time you dress up for fun, don’t pick something like this—it’s easy to be misunderstood, you know?”
Eugene laughed, looking at the driver with amusement. “Aren’t you worried I might actually be a criminal?”
The driver tilted his head, gave Eugene a good look, then waved dismissively with a chuckle. “No way, no way. If even someone as good-looking as you is committing crimes, then this world is really done for.”
Eugene clearly enjoyed the flattery, his smile widening.
“Then what about him?” He pointed at Luo Hai. “Does he not look like a criminal?”
“Your boyfriend?” The driver glanced at Luo Hai and grinned. “No, he looks even more righteous than you.”
Eugene immediately burst out laughing, almost doubling over. “Righteous? Him? More like radiating pure menace.”
Luo Hai, the so-called “righteous boyfriend,” sighed wearily, too exhausted to argue with Eugene’s childish teasing.
His entire body ached—there wasn’t a single muscle that wasn’t sore. His bones felt like they had been shattered, and even the slightest movement of his fingers pulled on pain receptors. Speaking was out of the question.
The banter between Eugene and the driver reached his ears as if through a curtain of water, distant and muffled, more like background noise than an actual conversation. He frowned slightly.
Luo Hai in pain was like a wild feline—silent, compliant, curling up in a corner to lick its wounds. Only the keenest observer would notice the tension in his muscles and the slight quiver of his eyelashes.
Eugene tapped the back of the driver’s seat and leaned forward. “Sir, could you stop at the convenience store up ahead? I need to buy something.”
“Sure.”
Luo Hai, in his dazed state, vaguely felt the car slowing down and pulling over. He frowned slightly and lifted his head, only managing to catch a glimpse of Eugene stepping out of the car.
The taxi suddenly became quiet. The driver was playing on his phone.
There was no moon that night. Under the dim streetlights, fallen leaves swirled in the wind along the sidewalk. Luo Hai tugged his coat closer around himself, suddenly feeling cold.
But Eugene returned quickly, holding a cup of warm water in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other. He got back into the car, pressed the cup into Luo Hai’s hand, and then pulled out a box of painkillers and a sandwich from the bag.
“Eat first, then take the medicine.” Eugene unwrapped the sandwich from its wrapper and emphasized, “Painkillers can’t be taken on an empty stomach; it’ll hurt your stomach. No matter how much you lack an appetite, at least take three bites before taking the medicine.”
Luo Hai was silent for a moment. In the end, he said nothing and simply accepted the sandwich.
Eugene watched him eat, much like a cat owner watching their pet have a meal. He only relaxed after seeing Luo Hai swallow the painkillers with warm water. Then, he turned to the driver and told him they could go, adding a reminder to drive slowly.
The number of cars on the road gradually decreased. The dim yellow light from the streetlamps flickered across the car windows in rhythm. Eugene and the driver had stopped chatting, and the world became quiet.
At first, Luo Hai simply closed his eyes, enduring the pain. But as the painkillers took effect, he unknowingly leaned back against the seat and fell asleep.
When he woke up again, he was no longer in the taxi. Instead, he was being carried on Eugene’s back.
The sound-activated lights in the apartment building’s hallway flickered on with Eugene’s footsteps. The cold white light illuminated his ridiculous prison uniform, and the staircase beneath them disappeared from view, step by step.
“Awake?” Eugene’s voice was low and gentle. “Still in pain?”
Luo Hai closed his eyes again. “I was never that bad to begin with.”
The man beneath him chuckled, neither agreeing nor denying it. When they reached the door, he reached out his hand. “Key.”
Luo Hai moved his wrist slightly and handed over the key. He let Eugene carry him inside, into the apartment, and all the way to the bed, where he was carefully set down. Eugene then quietly removed his coat, shoes, and socks.
As if he were the gentlest of lovers.
Neither of them spoke. The room was so quiet that the sound of the wind outside could be heard.
Eugene retrieved iodine and bandages from the first aid kit. He untied the handkerchief around Luo Hai’s right hand and carefully disinfected the wound with a cotton swab dipped in iodine before wrapping it up properly with a bandage.
Then, he found a clean towel, wiping away the sweat on Luo Hai’s neck and chest that had formed from enduring the pain. His palm rested against Luo Hai’s forehead.
Luo Hai’s scent carried too many layers of disguise, making it impossible for Eugene to judge his condition by smell alone. He could only rely on the most basic method of checking his body temperature.
Fortunately, Luo Hai’s temperature was normal. His tense muscles seemed to have relaxed as well. Apart from the evident exhaustion on his face and occasional shivering, there were no other abnormalities.
“Drink more water and get some rest. If you feel hungry, eat something. If not, don’t force it.” Eugene placed a thermos by the bedside, then opened the cabinet and took out a thin blanket, placing it at the foot of the bed. “If you get cold at night, add another layer. Don’t be lazy. I left the painkillers here too—if the effect wears off and you still feel pain, take another one.”
Luo Hai sighed, raising his arm tiredly to rest on his forehead. “What do you take me for? A fragile glass bottle?”
Eugene chuckled softly and pulled the blanket up, covering his shoulders. “I know you, Luo Hai. You’re tough, strong. You’ve always been that way. But sometimes, the harder something is, the easier it is to shatter. You can’t afford to be careless.”
“Nonsense,” Luo Hai muttered, his voice softened by exhaustion, devoid of any real bite.
Eugene just smiled.
The warm-toned light bathed the bedroom. The night was quiet and deep, and the blanket was soft and warm. Steam seeped from the thermos, and occasionally, the distant meowing of a stray cat could be heard from outside the apartment complex.
Luo Hai opened his eyes, looking at Eugene, who was sitting by the bedside.
“Do you realize that even if you refuse to reveal a single piece of information or any clues, in twenty days, the prosecution will still carry out your death sentence as scheduled?”
“I know.” Eugene’s lips still held a faint smile.
“No matter how hard you try to please me, when that moment comes, I won’t hesitate to send you to the execution ground.”
“I know.” Eugene’s tone was light and natural as he neatly folded the outerwear that Luo Hai had taken off.
“Then you should also know that everything you’re doing now is completely pointless. All it does is waste the little time you have left; it serves no purpose whatsoever,” Luo Hai said coolly.
“No, that’s not true.” Eugene smiled, pressing his hands against the bed on either side of Luo Hai as he leaned in. His gaze was steady as he looked down at him. “As long as I stay by your side for one more day, I can take care of you for one more day. You get to eat a hot meal for another day. You get to sleep well for another day. That alone is worth it.”
It was absurd.
In all the years since Doyle took him away from the orphanage, Luo Hai had encountered plenty of absurd things. But nothing was more ridiculous than the words that just came out of Eugene’s mouth.
Unreasonable, childish, illogical, and completely senseless—even calling it a lie would be giving it too much credit.
But what was even more absurd was that, at that moment, Luo Hai felt a lump in his throat, as if something was blocking his airways. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t swallow.
Meanwhile, the one who had made this absurd statement seemed completely natural, even reaching out to ruffle Luo Hai’s hair gently. “Get some rest. If you need anything, call me, no matter how late it is.”
Luo Hai silently watched as Eugene stood up from the bedside. “Your window doesn’t leak air anymore?”
Eugene smirked. “Who knows? It only leaked that one night. I find it pretty miraculous myself.”
With that, he turned off the light, walked out of the room, and gently closed the door behind him.
