In the end, Xie Quan didn’t take the diazepam.
Although Lu Nanyang hated to see him tormenting himself like this, he still chose to respect his decision.
Xie Quan was like a work of art made from diamond—crystal clear, seemingly fragile and delicate, yet actually one of the hardest materials in the world. Noble and proud, standing tall with sharp edges growing wildly inside.
He never admitted defeat, and never bowed easily.
“At least take the medicine I just bought?” Lu Nanyang brought over the medicine bag along with some wontons.
Xie Quan mumbled a vague “mm,” but his body ached all over, and he didn’t even want to lift a finger, let alone take medicine.
Then he heard a soft rustling beside his ear. Before long, Lu Nanyang helped him sit up, and then lowered his head—kissing his lips.
The pill was pushed into his mouth by a gentle nudge of a tongue. Xie Quan, muddled and overwhelmed, stirred his own tongue, craving every inch of that warmth.
Lu Nanyang briefly pulled away, took a sip of warm water, and leaned in again, slowly passing the water into his mouth.
Xie Quan’s throat moved as he swallowed the pill, but he refused to let go of the other’s lips. His tongue entwined like a snake, not stopping until all the bitterness in their mouths had melted into saliva, leaving only the sticky sweetness of a kiss behind.
No one knew how much time had passed before they finally parted reluctantly, both breathing a little heavily.
“Do you have some kind of fetish for mouth-to-mouth medication?” Lu Nanyang asked in a low voice, glancing at Xie Quan’s lower half.
“Normal withdrawal response,” Xie Quan licked his lips.
Yeah right.
Lu Nanyang rolled his eyes.
Xie Quan let out a muffled chuckle, leaning against the cushion with a much more relaxed expression. “Who told you to take so long buying medicine and leave me alone in the empty room?”
Hearing Xie Quan talk in that tone, Lu Nanyang finally felt a little more at ease.
Being able to joke like that meant he had indeed returned to his usual self.
“Eat something to fill your stomach, then get some proper sleep.” Lu Nanyang opened the takeout container, letting the smell of wontons fill the room. “You have to report back to school first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t go fainting in class again.”
This time, Xie Quan didn’t object. When Lu Nanyang scooped up a spoonful of wontons, he obediently opened his mouth and ate it.
Lu Nanyang fed the entire box of wontons to him like that, and for a moment, he had the illusion he was raising a big cat.
“Good boy.” he packed up the boxes and gave Xie Quan’s head a gentle rub. “Cover up and get some real sleep.”
Just as he picked up the trash and was about to leave the room, Xie Quan called out from behind.
“Lu Nanyang,” he asked, “when you went to buy the medicine… nothing happened, right?”
Lu Nanyang paused. “Nothing. One of the meds wasn’t available at any of the nearby pharmacies, so I had to go a little further. I also took a call, so it took longer than expected. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“…” Xie Quan didn’t say anything more, so Lu Nanyang gave him a smile and closed the door on his way out.
……
The next morning, when Xie Quan got up, Lu Nanyang was already gone.
To his surprise, there was a plate of still-warm egg fried rice on the dining table. Judging by the slightly burnt color, it definitely wasn’t takeout.
Beside the fried rice was a note, the handwriting bold.
— Wen Fei needed help copying a report, so I left early for the dorm. Tried to make some breakfast. If you don’t mind, eat a little before you leave. (PS: I added too much salt, remember to drink more water.)
Xie Quan chuckled at the note.
Using his lack of taste as an excuse to experiment on him?
Even so, he still pulled out a chair and sat down, eating the fried rice spoonful by spoonful. He couldn’t tell if there was too much salt, but it sure smelled good.
It tasted no different from any other food, yet somehow it made him feel more like eating.
As he ate, Xie Quan casually scrolled through his phone.
It was the first day of school, and his feed was buzzing. Most of the posts were from last night, all in unison complaining: “Don’t wanna go back,” “Didn’t finish my report,” “Barely passed the makeup exam,” “Where the hell did my dorm key go…” But one post stood out at the top—it was posted just this morning.
It was from Lu Nanyang. A scenic shot from the school route at dawn, the morning sun rising slowly at the end of the road, sunlight filtering through thick leaves, creating glowing patterns.
The caption was simple: [The rising sun is closest to rebirth. When it shines on your profile, everything starts to change.]
Xie Quan chuckled softly, gently biting his thumbnail.
Of course he remembered—his last post on Moments had been a poetic musing about a sunset, months ago. He had deleted it shortly after. But somehow, Lu Nanyang had remembered the exact wording.
Xie Quan moved his finger down and tapped the lower right corner. A little red heart appeared below the word change.
After a moment of thought, Xie Quan lifted his phone and took a photo of the slightly burnt egg fried rice. He posted it with the caption:
[Not bad. But don’t cook again.]
Within a minute, Lu Nanyang had already liked it.
Two seconds later, a comment appeared.
Xiang Nanyang: [First time’s rough, second time gets better. If one meal turns out bad, just cook a few more.]
Xie Quan: ?
Was it just his dirty mind, or was Lu Nanyang flirting in the comments?
A short while later, another comment popped up.
Xiang Nanyang: [Forget the rice next time. I’ll stir-fry you.]
Within minutes, Xie Quan’s post had gotten several likes and comments—mostly from clingy girls who had insisted on adding him. The comments were all very normal: “Did you make this yourself?” “Didn’t know Dr. Xie could cook!”
Lu Nanyang’s innuendo, hidden among the innocent comments, stood out in its shamelessness.
Taking advantage of the fact they had no mutual friends, he was totally unrestrained in flirting in the comments.
It was wildly inappropriate timing, but Xie Quan suddenly felt his mouth go dry. He unconsciously licked his lips, a new kind of craving igniting low in his abdomen like a slow-burning flame.
Unfortunately, reality had other plans. Xie Quan hadn’t expected to be appointed the head of the medical research team the moment school started. An overwhelming amount of work crashed down on him like a tidal wave.
The good news: he was basically guaranteed a spot in next year’s postgraduate program.
The bad news: since the semester began, he hadn’t seen Lu Nanyang in three days.
The research group situation was a mess. It had nothing to do with him at first, but during the summer, the original team leader had cracked under pressure and quit, throwing all their work into chaos.
The paper deadline hadn’t changed, so the group was left leaderless and disorganized. The advisor had no choice but to look for someone capable and reliable to take over—and naturally, Xie Quan was the top pick.
Taking over an entirely new research project midway was as troublesome as it could get. He had to start from scratch—reading up on materials, gathering information, coordinating and communicating with every team member, and also managing the transition with the advisor.
For three days straight, he had to stay in the lab even at night, always on standby. He only managed to catch a few winks during the rare free moments. Eating and sleeping all took place in the lab; he hadn’t even stepped out of the campus gates, let alone gone home.
And as if his own non-stop busyness wasn’t enough, what really got under his skin was that Lu Nanyang didn’t even bother to send a single message or make a single call.
After a full day of research and writing half the night, he looked at his phone—no texts, no missed calls—and a wave of nameless frustration surged in Xie Quan’s chest.
He should’ve recorded Lu Nanyang’s confession and played it back in a loop next to his ear seven or eight times so he could properly hear it.
Not a single message? Not a single call? This is what you call liking someone?
He was itching to storm into the law department and punch Lu Nanyang in the face—or kiss him.
But he couldn’t. Not only was he stuck in the lab, he also had to maintain the image of a calm, capable team leader in front of everyone.
In reality, with withdrawal symptoms and days of sleepless nights, his health was far from ideal.
What was worse was that every time his body reacted in pain, he would reflexively think of Lu Nanyang’s dumb face.
His gentle smile, soft full lips, the breath that brushed his ears.
His slightly drooping bangs, the heat of his palms, the gasps when he got aroused, and those focused eyes that looked only at him.
Xie Quan felt like a fish struggling on the mudflats, caught between barely surviving and suffocating, unable to find release either way.
To top it off, two of the younger lab members happened to know Lu Nanyang. One day over lunch, they randomly brought him up in conversation.
“This water bottle? It was actually a gift from Senior Lu Nanyang from the law school.”
The other guy looked up, “Lu as in south, and Nanyang as in flamboyant?”
“Yeah, yeah. You know him?”
“I was at the New Year’s Eve event last year, remember? Senior Lu was backstage helping out. We got to know each other through that. He helped me a lot, seems like a really warm person.”
“He really is nice,” the other chimed in. “Feels like he’s involved in everything on campus. And he’s so good-looking and kind—if I were a girl, I’d totally go after him.”
The two chatted away happily, not noticing how Xie Quan’s expression had darkened.
“That water bottle, what’s the story?” Xie Quan tilted his chin toward it.
“Oh, this?” The guy lifted the bottle and swirled it in his hand. “During an event, Senior Lu accidentally knocked over my old one and got dirt all over it. I said I’d just buy bottled water, but he insisted on going to the store and buying me a new one. I tried to pay him back but he wouldn’t take it. Such a good guy.”
Then he turned to Xie Quan, “By the way, Senior Xie, you know him too?”
Xie Quan replied coldly with a “Yeah,” and turned his head away. “I know him. Not that well.”
The junior blinked, about to ask more, but another guy tugged on his arm and gave him a look.
Ah, he got it.
These two probably didn’t get along. Best not to push the subject.
He cleared his throat, about to change the topic, when the lab door was suddenly knocked.
“I’ll get it.”
Xie Quan, distracted, kept mechanically eating, until he heard the guy who answered the door exclaim in surprise, “Senior Lu?!”
He looked up—and the very same Lu Nanyang he claimed to “not know well” was standing at the lab entrance, holding a bag of items and smiling at him.
“Professor Qi said you guys were still missing some documents from 2008. I happened to be passing by, so I brought them over.”
