“Yes, it’s me.” Yang Xu spoke as if he were in a spy movie, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Can you talk freely?”
“I can. What’s wrong?” Li Xuan frowned. “Did something happen to Sheng Min?”
“Ge.. uh, not exactly. How do I even explain this…”
“You’re not usually at a loss for words. What’s with the stammering?” Li Xuan grew impatient. “Where’s Sheng Min? Let me talk to him.”
“No, Li Xuan. It’s not about him…”
“Then what is it?”
Li Xuan was on the verge of snapping, but Yang Xu still couldn’t get to the point. Suddenly, he fell silent, exclaiming nervously, “Ge!”
“Give me the phone,” Sheng Min said.
Though Li Xuan couldn’t see their actions through the call, he relaxed slightly upon hearing Sheng Min’s voice. Yang Xu muttered something indistinct before handing over the phone.
“Hello,” Sheng Min began, his tone light. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Why did Yang Xu call me? Did something happen to you?” Li Xuan cut straight to the chase.
“Why are you being so fierce?”
“I wasn’t being fierce. How could I be fierce with you? I was just worried,” Li Xuan quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.
“Okay,” Sheng Min replied, his voice tinged with amusement. “Fine. But first, answer me—have you eaten?”
“I’ll eat later,” Li Xuan said. “Now, tell me—what’s going on? Did something happen to you?”
“Nothing serious,” Sheng Min said, his voice dropping slightly, as if annoyed by Li Xuan’s persistence. “It’s just that when I returned to the hotel after finishing work, some fans were overly enthusiastic and followed me. There was a bit of a scene at the entrance.”
“Were you hurt?”
“No.”
Li Xuan still felt something was off. “That’s it? Then why did Yang Xu—”
“Do you want me to call him back so you can ask him yourself?” Sheng Min interrupted, his tone carrying a hint of reproach. “Maybe it was because it was raining on the mountain, the ground was slippery, and the staff were worried about an accident. Both sides didn’t handle it well, so it seemed more serious than it actually was. Yang Xu gets scared easily and probably thought I was shaken up, so he wanted to tell you… What, was it too small an issue to bother you with?” Sheng Min’s voice softened, almost as if pouting. “Aren’t you my boyfriend?”
Li Xuan knew he was joking, both amused and helpless. “You clearly know I didn’t mean that.”
“I don’t.”
“You really weren’t hurt?”
“You’ve asked so many times. Really I wasn’t. Want me to video call you to prove it?”
At that, Li Xuan suddenly felt guilty. He quickly glanced at the blank white hospital wall with nowhere to hide and coughed. “I’d like to, but I’m in a meeting. I just stepped out, and I have to head back soon—they’re waiting. Forget it. If I see you on video, I probably won’t want to hang up. I’ll call you tomorrow instead. As long as you’re okay.”
“It’s so late, and you’re still in a meeting?”
Hearing this, Li Xuan finally looked at the time and realized it was already past nine. He hadn’t noticed that he’d slept for so long. Walking to the window, he pulled back the curtain. The hospital roof’s eaves blocked the sky, and he could only see a faint streetlight in the distance where a stray cat slowly walked by, disappearing into the night.
“Yes, it’s a busy day today.” Li Xuan turned his gaze back. “Are you in your room now? Has the rain stopped?”
“I’m in the corridor. No, it’s getting heavier.” Sheng Min pushed open the window, letting him hear the patter of rain. “The weather in the mountains is so unpredictable. We thought there’d be less rain this week so the filming schedule could move faster and finish before autumn, but it seems the rainy season came early. We just finished two scenes today when it started raining out of nowhere, so we had to wrap up. Looks like it’ll still be raining tomorrow.”
“What are you going to do?” Li Xuan asked, hearing him sigh softly.
“I don’t know. We’ll wait and see. If it keeps raining like this, we might leave the mountains and go to a studio to film the remaining scenes before coming back. There aren’t many scenes left in the mountains anyway. It depends on what the director and producer decide…”
As Sheng Min was speaking, Li Xuan heard the sound of the door opening. He thought it might be a nurse coming to change his dressing, and his heart tightened, afraid of exposing himself in front of Sheng Min. Luckily, it was Qi Boyuan who entered. Before he could say anything, Li Xuan quickly gestured for silence.
“Did someone come in?” Sheng Min heard the noise.
“Yes, Qi Boyuan. He’s urging me to go back to the meeting.”
“Oh, then you should go. Make sure to eat after the meeting. Your meal schedule has always been a mess,” Sheng Min said gently. “I’ll head back inside the room and go over the script a bit more before sleeping.”
“Mm, good night. Rest well.” Just before hanging up, Li Xuan couldn’t help but ask again, “It’s really just stalker fans at the hotel right? There’s nothing else you’re hiding from me?”
Sheng Min was silent for a moment. “There is.”
“What?”
“I really miss you. Does that count?”
Li Xuan felt as if his heart was held firmly in Sheng Min’s grasp, lifted and then gently placed back down. His gaze swept over his bandaged hand, and his tone softened unconsciously. “It counts.”
“What kind of meeting am I urging you about?” Qi Boyuan scoffed as Li Xuan put down his phone. “A hand injury recovery conference?”
Li Xuan ignored him and first opened Sheng Min’s fan forum. Sure enough, there were posts about how he had been surrounded by stalker fans outside his hotel tonight, complete with video clips.
“Was Minmin hurt?” one fan asked in the comments. “Stalker fans are shameless.”
“No, the staff accompanied him inside, but he got caught in the rain,” the one who posted replied.
Some questioned the identity of the person who posted: “Aren’t you a stalker too? Otherwise, how’d you get the footage?”
An argument ensued.
Li Xuan frowned as he scrolled through the comments. Though angry and disgusted, he felt somewhat relieved. Putting away his phone, he finally turned to Qi Boyuan. “What did you just say? I didn’t catch it.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me. That was Sheng Min you were on the phone with, wasn’t it? No wonder… Why are you so scared, even using me as an excuse?”
“I’m not scared.” Li Xuan responded decisively. “Stop talking nonsense. Why are you here?”
“Why am I here? Do you think I wanted to come?” Qi Boyuan removed his backpack. “I came because you specifically told me to bring your computer.”
“You could’ve had anyone else bring it.”
“Yeah, right. Your computer is full of company secrets. If it got lost, it’d be a huge deal. Do you think I’d trust anyone else to deliver it?”
He handed the laptop to Li Xuan, poured himself a glass of water, and casually glanced out the window.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Qi Boyuan was startled by the question and quickly turned back. “If there’s nothing else, should I head back?”
“Go ahead.”
Li Xuan nodded, turned on his laptop, and habitually checked the backend of ‘Nook’ and the planning documents for ‘Reverse Track’ His injured hand made it somewhat inconvenient, and after a while, he looked up. “Why are you still here?”
“No rush.” Qi Boyuan sipped his water slowly. “You’re getting another IV drip later, right? Discharging tomorrow morning?”
“Mm… I might not even wait until morning. Once the IV is done, I’ll head back to the office.”
Qi Boyuan almost wanted to ask why he bothered delivering the laptop at all if he was leaving so soon, but he could already imagine Li Xuan retorting, ‘If only you’d brought it earlier, I could’ve worked a few more hours.’ Deciding it wasn’t worth the argument, he let it go.
“Better wait until morning.” He glanced out the window again. “I’ll come pick you up.”
Li Xuan said nothing. Qi Boyuan waited for a response but got none. When he turned around, he found Li Xuan staring at him intently, making him feel uneasy. He forced a laugh. “What?”
“You care about me this much?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
Li Xuan smirked. Without giving Qi Boyuan a chance to react, he walked over to the window, pushed him aside, and leaned out to look down. The street was empty—there wasn’t a single person in sight.
“What exactly are you looking at?” Qi Boyuan tried to regain the upper hand.
“Do you think you’re being subtle?” Li Xuan wasn’t buying it, leaning against the windowsill.
“Huh?” Qi Boyuan cursed Li Xuan’s sharp instincts but continued to feign ignorance.
“You know the biggest advantage of you goody-two-shoes types?” Li Xuan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he moved toward the door. “You’re so naïve—you wear everything on your face.”
“Wait, where are you going?”
“See what ghost is downstairs that’s worth you putting on this performance art for me,” Li Xuan said, moving toward the door.
“Wait, wait…” Qi Boyuan quickly grabbed him.
Seeing his hesitant expression, Li Xuan’s heart sank, his voice lowering. “Who’s downstairs? Zhao Jizhe?”
“His name is Zhao Jizhe?” Qi Boyuan blurted out, then wished he could bite his tongue. Watching Li Xuan’s increasingly dark expression, he sighed and let go. “If we ever move the company, we might not even need a fortune teller. You’re sharper than any of those back-alley mystics.”
“Where did you see him?” After a moment of silence, Li Xuan asked, returning to the window.
“Under that tree—scared the hell out of me.” Qi Boyuan stood beside him, pointing into the distance. “I couldn’t see him from up here, though. Maybe he left. It’s so late…” He hesitated, remembering Zhao Jizhe’s eerie gaze but didn’t mention it. “I just worry he might come back, and you’re the impulsive type. If it escalates and you end up throwing something, like a cup, you’ll have both hands bandaged and won’t be leaving the hospital for a week…”
“He saw you come up?” Li Xuan asked coldly.
Qi Boyuan nodded. “Yeah, maybe he left after seeing me…”
“He didn’t leave,” Li Xuan cut him off suddenly, turning to stare at the tightly shut door, his gaze deep.
For a moment, Qi Boyuan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
