T/N: The author didn’t specify if this is an AU or simply something that happened in their past life without MT’s knowledge. Anyway, this story doesn’t have anything to do with the main story. Just treat it as a short story. Enjoy!
In a small town adjacent to the northern suburbs of Haicheng, there stood a high-end sanatorium. Yan Sui would visit for half a day almost every weekend. Initially, it was merely out of courtesy—after all, his alliance with Xiao Huimin and the discovery of Meng Ting’s existence had laid the groundwork for their subsequent cooperation.
But after dealing with the Meng and Yán families, while Xiao Huimin continued to quell internal strife within his own clan, Yan Sui found himself at loose ends. This idleness wasn’t due to a lack of tasks but rather a psychological void—one that no amount of busywork could fill.
At first, his visits were perfunctory: he would sit quietly by Meng Ting’s side for half a day before leaving. Gradually, however, he began speaking to him.
The doctors had long since confirmed that Meng Ting was brain-dead—in other words, he had become vegetative, devoid of any awareness of the outside world. He couldn’t hear a word Yan Sui said.
Yet Yan Sui harbored a peculiar feeling, as if the person lying on the bed could still hear and understand him—only he didn’t want to wake up or speak.
“Zhen Han returned a couple of days ago. Oh, Zhen Han is my cousin. He’s been abroad these past two years searching for my aunt. Finally, there’s some progress.”
Yan Sui sat upright in the chair beside the bed, his posture rigid, his demeanor cold. Yet after speaking, he reached out and gently stroked Meng Ting’s hair—the first time he had ever done so. The strands were unexpectedly soft, which made him softening his tone as well.
“I’ll be going abroad soon. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but I’ll come see you again when I return.”
Slowly, he withdrew his hand, a faint, almost regretful smile tugging at his lips. He rarely felt sympathy for anyone, but as more details of Meng Ting’s unfortunate experiences came to light, an uncomfortable weight settled in his chest.
Yan Sui slowly stood up and took a few steps toward the door before pausing to glance back. “I promise.”
The person on the bed remained unresponsive, his delicate features serene, as if he would never wake again.
With those words, Yan Sui left the private ward and got into a car, heading straight to the airport.
But his trip lasted a full month—far longer than Yan Sui had initially anticipated.
Yan Manjia’s disappearance was quite bizarre. Almost immediately after the news of Yan Yu’s murder was exposed, Yan Manjia went missing. Before that, she had even told Zhen Han over the phone that she planned to return to the country permanently.
She and Xiao Zi had broken up for good a decade earlier. Due to certain circumstances, Yan Manjia occasionally returned to the country but spent most of her time abroad.
Now, according to Zhen Han’s investigation, she had long known that Yan Yu and He Yue were still alive—her prolonged stay overseas was partly connected to them.
Yan Sui and Zhen Han eventually found her in the home of a family of doctors in Central Asia. Yan Manjia had suffered severe head trauma, leaving her memory fragmented. The deaths of Yan Yu and He Yue had deeply traumatized her, and she instinctively resisted recalling the past.
Yet when she saw Zhen Han, her maternal instincts remained intact. She recognized him but still couldn’t remember anything else.
Zhen Han stayed behind to accompany Yan Manjia at the doctor’s residence for further treatment, while Yan Sui returned home first. Based on the clues provided by the physician Gu Li, the situation might be far more complicated than he had imagined.
After returning to the country, Yan Sui remained busy for several more days before finally visiting Meng Ting at the small town’s sanatorium. When he arrived, Xiao Zimo had also just gotten there. Seeing Yan Sui, Xiao Zimo’s eyes filled with gratitude.
“Brother Yan, thank you.”
Xiao Zimo thanked him sincerely. In the beginning, when Meng Ting was first found, there were several groups of people visiting the sanatorium daily. But as time passed, apart from him and his father and brother, Yan Sui was the only one who consistently kept coming.
“By the way, my father plans to transfer Nuo Nuo back to Beicheng’s sanatorium to be with my… mother. That way, we can take care of them more conveniently.”
Back when the Xiao family was in chaos, Ning Zhou’s condition had been even more critical than Meng Ting’s. With all medical resources prioritized for Ning Zhou, Yan Sui had suggested transferring Meng Ting to Haicheng’s sanatorium—where he had now stayed for over two years.
“That’s fine,” Yan Sui replied. He had no right to object. After visiting Meng Ting for two years, he couldn’t possibly claim to have developed feelings and prevent the transfer.
Xiao Zimo stayed a while longer before leaving. Even with the transfer arranged, the paperwork and necessary procedures would take time.
Once in the ward, Yan Sui sat silently, more subdued than usual. Two hours later, he checked his watch and finally spoke. “I’m sorry I was away for so long this time. Next time, I might have to visit you in Beicheng.”
As Yan Sui spoke, he instinctively raised his hand. He paused slightly, then slowly let it rest on Meng Ting’s hair. Perhaps because of the impending farewell, Yan Sui’s hand lingered on Meng Ting’s hair longer than usual.
He gently stroked it, his gaze softening slightly, though his tone remained unchanged. “You’ve been asleep for two years. Isn’t it time to wake up?”
The person on the bed still gave Yan Sui no response. He sighed softly, his hand slowly rising to withdraw, and Yan Sui leaned forward, as if to stand up and leave.
But in that very moment, he froze—completely motionless.
The person beneath his fingertips slowly opened his eyes. They were the cleanest, most beautiful eyes Yan Sui had ever seen—clear and unclouded, shimmering like a spring, they held his entire world in that single glance.
The effort of opening his eyes to look at Yan Sui exhausted Meng Ting’s strength, and his eyelids slowly fluttered shut again. Machines in the room erupted into frantic alarms. Unlike the occasional reflexive movements of a comatose patient, this was true revival—a return from the brink.
Doctors and nurses rushed in, pushing Yan Sui out of the room. Yet his expression remained somewhat dazed, his fists clenched tightly. In that moment, his emotions were pure—simple joy at Meng Ting’s awakening.
But equally undeniable was the profound impact that glance, those eyes, had on him.
Sitting outside the operating room, Yan Sui took a long time to collect himself before remembering to contact the Xiao family. Xiao Zimo was likely still on a flight, so Yan Sui called Xiao Huimin directly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay here and keep watch.”
As soon as he hung up, the operating room lights dimmed. Meng Ting was wheeled out, looking much the same as before, though with fewer tubes and medical devices attached.
He remained asleep, but the doctors told Yan Sui that he could wake up at any moment.
The commotion in the hospital room finally subsided, and Yan Sui sat back down on the chair by the bed. A faint smile appeared on his face as he reached out to ruffle Meng Ting’s hair—a gesture that had become something of a reward. The first time was awkward, the second more familiar, and now, by the third time, Yan Sui had grown increasingly natural at it.
Almost exactly like the last time, just as his hand was about to withdraw, Meng Ting opened his eyes.
This time, Yan Sui didn’t freeze. His hand returned to Meng Ting’s hair, gently tousling it in a practiced rhythm, while Meng Ting shifted his gaze to rest squarely on Yan Sui.
Meng Ting’s eyes were so clear and limpid that Yan Sui unconsciously softened his tone further.
“My name is Yan Sui.”
Meng Ting didn’t respond. He merely blinked slowly once, then continued staring at Yan Sui—his gaze direct and unguarded. Yet, being scrutinized like this didn’t evoke any discomfort or aversion in Yan Sui.
Unintentionally, Yan Sui smiled again, which only made Meng Ting watch him even more intently.
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving.”
Yan Sui’s hand moved from Meng Ting’s hair to brush lightly against his cheek before withdrawing.
Just then, a nurse entered with a basin of water to wipe Meng Ting’s face and hands. Yan Sui paused briefly before speaking up. “Leave it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Of course, Mr. Yan,” the nurse replied before exiting the room.
Meeting Meng Ting’s eyes again, Yan Sui lowered his voice slightly. “Don’t be afraid. They’re the ones who’ve been taking care of you for over two years.”
He had noticed a flicker of resistance in Meng Ting’s gaze and thus offered the reassurance. He got up, wrung out the towel, and slowly approached Meng Ting again. He gently wiped Meng Ting’s face, then changed the water and wiped his neck and hands.
“You’ve been asleep for two years, so you can’t move yet. But after some time, you’ll be able to get out of bed and move around on your own.”
Yan Sui meticulously cleaned Meng Ting’s hands, even running the towel between his fingers and over his nails. Meng Ting glanced at his own hands, then back at Yan Sui. Once his hands were settled back on the blanket and his sleeves smoothed down, Yan Sui stood to return the basin to the nurse waiting outside.
When he sat back down, his hand had barely touched the bed before Meng Ting lightly grasped his pinky finger.
A trace of unease flickered in Meng Ting’s eyes. Yan Sui looked at his hand, which Meng Ting was holding, then lifted his gaze to meet Meng Ting’s. He lifted his other hand and gently patted Meng Ting’s blanket reassuringly. “It’s alright. If you want to hold it, just hold it.”
He could understand Meng Ting’s fear and unease about everything around him, having just woken up. It was natural for Meng Ting to feel this reliance on him, as he was the first person Meng Ting saw upon opening his eyes.
Yan Sui could rationalize it, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he felt an unusually strong sense of joy from Meng Ting’s dependence on him.
Yan Sui didn’t speak further. Meng Ting’s gaze remained fixed on Yan Sui until exhaustion pulled him back into sleep again.
***
By the time the Xiao father and son arrived, Meng Ting was still asleep. They pressed the doctors for details, finally confirming the rare good news. However, this also meant that transferring Meng Ting back to Beicheng was no longer ideal—the medical team here clearly understood Meng Ting’s condition better, making this place the optimal environment for his recovery.
However, in the following days, they discovered one particularly challenging issue: Meng Ting would only wake up upon hearing Yan Sui’s voice. At all other times, he remained in the same deep slumber as before. Even when awake, he refused to look at anyone other than Yan Sui. Furthermore, as soon as Yan Sui left, Meng Ting’s eyes would immediately close again.
He remained deeply uneasy about everything around him, finding safety only in Yan Sui’s presence—only then would he dare to open his eyes. Thus, the key to Meng Ting’s recovery still lay with Yan Sui. After learning this from the doctors, the Xiao family father and son deliberated for two full days before approaching Yan Sui.
Yan Sui was an exceptionally capable and busy patriarch of a prominent family. The fact that he had visited Meng Ting regularly over the years out of respect for their families’ partnership was already remarkable. Now, asking him to continue caring for Meng Ting felt like an imposition even to Xiao Huimin.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Yan Sui agreed almost without hesitation.
Originally, he had already been making daily trips to the sanatorium. Now, he practically took up residence there. Two months later, he even brought Meng Ting back to the Yan residence.
After over two months of rehabilitation and treatment, Meng Ting had regained the ability to eat normally and move around. However, from the moment he opened his eyes until now, he had never spoken a single word—not even Yan Sui could get him to talk.
Because he wouldn’t speak, even the most experienced neurologists couldn’t determine if the previous neurotoxin had caused any lingering damage to his brain and memory. Did he still remember his past experiences? Was his muteness due to physiological or psychological reasons? None of these questions could be answered.
“Meng Ting, I’m going to take you to stay at my house for a while. Is that alright?”
Yan Sui asked this as he helped Meng Ting sit back on the hospital bed after their walk.
Meng Ting didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached out and took hold of Yan Sui’s hand again before giving a slight nod. At first, he had only dared to grip one of Yan Sui’s fingers, then two, then three. It wasn’t until half a month ago that he had finally, for the first time, fully clasped Yan Sui’s hand on his own.
Once he had Meng Ting’s consent, Yan Sui swiftly arranged the necessary procedures. In the evening, he took Meng Ting by car back to the Yan residence. Uncle Xiao and Nanny Wang had gradually stepped back from managing household affairs, but they still lived in the Yan residence, lending some semblance of life to the otherwise cold and quiet Yan family home.
They had already heard about Meng Ting from Zhao Bing. While they were slightly surprised that Yan Sui was bringing him home, they quickly composed themselves and oversaw the servants’ preparations.
When the car stopped in front of the Yan residence, Yan Sui stepped out first and walked around to the right side, where he gently led Meng Ting out.
“Don’t be afraid. This is my home.”
Yan Sui felt Meng Ting’s grip on his hand tighten. He paused, raising a hand to gently stroke Meng Ting’s hair before giving his shoulder a gentle pat.
But even with Yan Sui’s reassurance, Meng Ting kept his head lowered the entire way, his eyes fixed only on their clasped hands. His tension and unease were palpable. Yan Sui led Meng Ting to the room the servants had prepared, instructed Zhao Bing to leave the luggage and exit, then stayed behind to keep Meng Ting company.
One of the reasons Yan Sui had decided to bring Meng Ting to the Yan residence was that, ever since waking up, Meng Ting had been unable to sleep well—a major obstacle to his physical recovery. After consulting with the doctors, Yan Sui concluded that Meng Ting had developed a psychological aversion to hospital-like environments.
Yan Sui shared the doctor’s opinion and his own thoughts with Xiao Huimin, then proposed bringing Meng Ting to the Yan residence. With plenty of servants at home, Meng Ting would be well-cared for in terms of material conditions and care.
The Xiao family members was even more at a loss with Meng Ting than Yan Sui was. They couldn’t even be sure if Meng Ting was aware of their existence.
Naturally, the Xiao family expressed endless gratitude for Yan Sui’s initiative. But only Yan Sui himself knew what he was truly thinking. Bringing Meng Ting home was certainly not merely out of sympathy for Meng Ting’s circumstances, nor was it solely because of the Xiao family’s entrustment.
Yan Sui first opened the curtains in the room, then led Meng Ting to sit on the sofa. Without outsiders present, Meng Ting’s gaze remained intently fixed on Yan Sui. He had been looking at Yan Sui this way for over two months now, yet he still couldn’t get enough of looking at him, and Yan Sui had grown accustomed to Meng Ting’s unwavering gaze.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
Yan Sui gently patted Meng Ting’s hand before standing up. “Let me get a towel to wipe your face.”
He walked towards the bathroom, but Meng Ting also stood up and followed. Yan Sui paused and turned to look at Meng Ting.
Meng Ting met Yan Sui’s gaze and stopped in his tracks. A faint smile—part helpless, part indulgence—tugged at Yan Sui’s lips. He took two steps back and took Meng Ting’s hand.
“Come, let’s go together.”
Meng Ting gave a slight nod, then clutched Yan Sui’s left hand with both of his own, as if afraid Yan Sui might abandon him and run off.
In just over two months, Yan Sui’s caregiving skills had transformed from unfamiliar to proficient, while Meng Ting had also progressed from being passive to actively cooperating. He tilted his face up, allowing Yan Sui to wipe him, but his eyes remained fixed on Yan Sui.
“Can you tell me what you’re looking at?”
Yan Sui gently wiped Meng Ting’s cheek, met his gaze, and asked softly.
[dropdown title=”List of Idiom in Extra 3.1″]
束手無策 (shù shǒu wú cè): lit. to have one’s hands bound and be unable to do anything about it (idiom); fig. helpless in the face of a crisis; fold one’s hands without knowing what to do―be at a loss what to do; to feel helpless in the face of some difficulty; be at one’s wit’s end.千恩萬謝 (qiān ēn wàn xiè): a thousand thanks; many thanks; profuse gratitude; thank you very much; be deeply grateful; express profound gratitude; with immense thanks; with heartfelt thanks; repeatedly expressing gratitude.
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