Covering a distance of just a few hundred meters, Nan Liujing’s fully armored appearance attracted sidelong glances from quite a few students.
When he arrived in front of the hospital, the facility’s thoughtful handicap-accessible ramp design allowed him to enter smoothly. Just in time, he caught sight of a familiar figure hurriedly exiting from inside. He backed up, using a half-person-tall potted plant by the entrance to block his figure.
Once Uncle Li left the hospital, Nan Liujing went to the front desk and asked, “Which hospital room is a student named Shen Jiali, who was just brought in, staying in?”
The front desk nurse asked as per routine procedure: “May I ask what your relationship is to him?”
Nan Liujing paused for a moment, his voice dropping extremely low: “Husband.”
Only then did the nurse recall the gossip about Shen Jiali she had seen online previously. Word had it he was married to the disabled eldest son of a financial conglomerate—it seemed it was true.
Seeing him covered so thoroughly in a mask and sunglasses to the point of being tightly wrapped up also confirmed the rumor that that man was old and ugly, and never dared to show his true face.
Yet just listening to this voice—mellow and exceptional, with even a subtle movement reeking of unusual nobility and elegance.
With such wealth, he could easily afford plastic surgery; it was a waste of such a good physique and disposition.
“Room 103 on the first floor, right at the end of the hallway to the left.”
Nan Liujing softly expressed his thanks and found Shen Jiali’s hospital room.
Peering in through the small window on the door, he saw only a nurse administering an IV drip to him.
Knocking and entering, his gaze instantly shifted to Shen Jiali on the hospital bed.
Whether asleep or unconscious, his frail body didn’t even show a raised outline beneath the quilt. His hair was slightly damp, and his closed eyes were connected to long eyelashes, presenting a pale brown hue like autumn withered leaves.
Even lying down, his face didn’t have that look of flesh spreading out.
Nan Liujing watched silently, then involuntarily glanced down at his own palm.
Did this person’s face even have the width of a palm?
The nurse said: “The patient is generally fine, but fell unconscious due to malnutrition combined with excessive fatigue. After going back, make sure to supplement him with more protein and vitamins, pay attention to rest, and he will recover quickly soon.”
Nan Liujing found it absurd. Twenty-four hours a day, Shen Jiali spent twenty-five of them lying down excessive fatigue?
After offering a few words of caution, the nurse left the room, leaving the two of them alone.
Nan Liujing gazed at the person on the hospital bed. After a moment, he raised a hand and lightly touched Shen Jiali’s cheek, wanting to see if he was feigning sleep.
Coincidentally, Shen Jiali slowly opened his eyes at that exact moment.
Looking at the pristine white ceiling and smelling the familiar scent of disinfectant, he let out a long sigh.
He failed to die again. Which doctor had performed speed-of-light resuscitation, snatching him away from the cute Grim Reaper’s hands?
Doctors worked hard enough; he no longer wanted to create unnecessary trouble for them.
He moved his fingers his whole body’s muscles were sore and weak, and both hands still felt numb.
Abruptly, Shen Jiali caught a whiff of a different scent mixed into the disinfectant smell: faint and cold, somewhat like a certain plant living in frigid zones.
And, extremely familiar.
He weakly raised his eyes to look to the side and saw Nan Liujing sitting by the bed, his face concealed by a mask and sunglasses.
Somewhat unexpected that Nan Liujing would come to visit him?
Oh, probably came to check if he was dead yet and when they could roll him up in a straw mat and throw him in the back mountain.
Out of politeness, he ought to greet him, but he was running out of even the strength to breathe. Thus, he forced a soft sound out from his nasal passage:
“M-hm.”
Nan Liujing also emitted a similarly indifferent, short sound: “Hmph.”
Truly a marvel. Having spent a long time with Shen Jiali, he had actually managed to understand that “m-hm” meant “you’re here.”
Shen Jiali likewise understood that “hmph”—”Yeah, I’m here.”
Soon, a wave of sleepiness washed over him, wrapping around his body as if he were floating on a soft cloud, and he closed his eyes once more.
The sound of slow, rhythmic breathing drifted over, and Nan Liujing’s gaze fell upon Shen Jiali’s sleeping face.
His serene and detached face resembled a white magnolia flower fallen from a branch, swirling down with the breeze and landing on the surface of the lake, stirring gentle ripples and dyeing the water surface with a faint, lingering fragrance.
That strand of brown hair fell across his brow and lashes, shielding the rounded arc of his eyelids, his dark, lustrous eyelashes trembling like a swallowtail butterfly perched among flowers, fluttering its wings.
He couldn’t fathom this person’s thoughts, and the more time they spent together, the more estranged he felt. He was forever straying beyond his plans, a feeling that was extremely grating.
Nan Liujing looked away.
Better catch him in a blunder as soon as possible and bring up the divorce.
Glancing sideways, he happened to catch sight of the fruit and flowers brought by the students sitting on the cabinet.
The nurse had just said to supplement Shen Jiali with more vitamins and protein.
Nan Liujing’s fingertips twitched, then he curled his fingers into a fist.
His life or death had what to do with him?
No, he had to stay alive; only then could he thoroughly torture him before their divorce.
Sliding his wheelchair over to the cabinet and inspecting the contents, Nan Liujing picked out an apple, grabbed a fruit knife, and his expression suddenly turned hesitant.
He had never peeled an apple before; from childhood onwards, the family servants had always peeled, cut, and plated them for him.
He hesitated for a long while before pressing the blade against the apple.
When Shen Jiali woke up again, a quiet orange-red glow had flown in through the window, painting even the pristine white of the hospital room with a lively splash of color.
He lazily glanced at the wall clock—it was already six o’clock in the afternoon.
Had Nan Liujing left?
He quietly raised his eyes to cast a sideways glance toward the bedside.
His tall figure was smeared with brilliant, vibrant colors by the sunset glow, forming a bright orange highlight near the corner of his brow.
Nan Liujing hadn’t left. He had sat by the bed for five or six hours like this. At the moment, propping his forehead with one hand and half-closing his eyes, he seemed to have fallen asleep.
Having slept seven or eight parts full, Shen Jiali, who already disliked the smell of hospital disinfectant, just wanted to go back quickly.
He raised a hand and gently poked Nan Liujing’s knee. Suddenly realizing that his legs probably had no sensation, he was just about to shift his hand to poke somewhere else when Nan Liujing slowly opened his eyes.
Shen Jiali: ?
Seemed like something was amiss?
Never mind, too lazy to figure it out.
“Let’s go back.” He sat up, wanting to get out of bed.
“Wait a minute.” Nan Liujing called him back, picking up a white porcelain plate from the bedside table: “Eat this first.”
Shen Jiali leaned closer to take a look and saw apple pieces of various shapes and sizes scattered across the white plate.
Among the five fingers holding the plate, at least three were decorated with shallow blood scratches.
Shen Jiali blinked, seemingly finding it hard to believe: “Did you… peel this for me?”
Nan Liujing placed the plate on his lap, seemingly unwilling to waste words on him: “Eat. Eat it, and we’ll go home.”
Seeing his attitude, Shen Jiali understood. How could Nan Liujing possibly be concerned about him? It was just that since they were currently married, if he had an accident and his husband ignored it, people would talk.
Since they were putting on a show, he might as well see it through to the end.
Shen Jiali leaned lazily against the head of the bed: “Don’t want to eat, unless you feed me.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Nan Liujing stared at him coldly, thinking to himself that this fellow was about to reveal his true nature.
Shen Jiali silently lay back down, pulling the quilt up to cover himself properly.
Then I’ll sleep a bit more, sleep until I’m completely full.
The next second, a large hand hauled him up, and the fragrance of apple spread beneath his nose.
Shen Jiali raised his eyes. Although Nan Liujing’s mask concealed his expression, the sharply furrowed brows indicated he was angry.
Holding a fork, he aggressively shoved a piece right up to Shen Jiali’s mouth. That furious yet helpless look was rather amusing.
Shen Jiali stopped tormenting him, bit into the apple, and looked out the window, chewing slowly.
From this angle, he could see a small lump bulging on his cheek, moving slowly and making a faint rustling sound.
Shen Jiali let out a light pant—eating was so exhausting. Why couldn’t food automatically decompose inside the mouth?
Nan Liujing forked another piece of apple and handed it over: “Eat more.”
“Not eating anymore, so tired.” Shen Jiali leisurely put on his shoes, “Let’s go back.”
Nan Liujing stared at him silently, suddenly feeling it was quite novel.
Previously, he had accidentally overheard a conversation between passersby:
A: “Ugh, I’m exhausted. Why is this so troublesome?”
B: “Eating is even more troublesome—you have to chew every bite and swallow every bite. How come I never see you eating less?”
Yet there really were people in this world who found even eating to be a hassle.
A barely audible chuckle escaped his nostrils, melting into the blood-red, brilliant sunset glow.
With Shen Jiali’s pace of panting after every step and resting after every two, it was already eight o’clock in the evening by the time they reached home.
The moment Uncle Li saw the two of them, he was stunned for a moment, his mind instantly racing all the way back to the origin of the universe.
Why did these two come back together?
“Young Master, where did you go? You didn’t even answer your phone, I was almost about to call the police.” Uncle Li’s voice trembled slightly, seemingly still recovering from the massive panic of Nan Liujing’s unexplained disappearance.
“I went to JinHai University to meet the school leadership and discuss undertaking the construction of the new college,” Nan Liujing answered as smoothly as flowing water, showing no hint of anything amiss.
Right, exactly—his primary purpose for going there this time was the college construction matter; visiting Shen Jiali was just on the way.
Recalling his cold-as-frost sentence “What does that have to do with me?”, Uncle Li understood without asking further. Let’s just pretend it was like that.
Shen Jiali exchanged pleasantries with Uncle Li and went upstairs.
Just as he was about to flatten out in bed, the bedroom door chimed, and in the next second, the man in the wheelchair descended upon them like a deity.
Shen Jiali was speechless. Even if it’s your house, you should still knock.
“Get up.” Nan Liujing’s tone carried the distinct implication of issuing an order.
Shen Jiali closed his eyes and said in a gloomy voice: “I can hear you even while lying down.”
Please spare him. Do all rich people have this kind of bizarre hobby? Why else would they repeatedly come to persecute a slacker like him?
Shen Jiali refused to budge, so Uncle Li arrived right on cue, catching the mental signal.
Shen Jiali sat up.
Nan Liujing opened the computer in his room and ordered him about imperiously: “I’ve recently developed an interest in a game, but I have too much work. I need someone to help me grind my account and level up.”
Shen Jiali looked puzzled: “Do I look very free to you?”
Nan Liujing glanced at Uncle Li, who was standing by as a standby, then looked back at Shen Jiali sitting lazily on the bed. He raised an eyebrow, and the answer was self-evident.
“Also, the doctor said your body is weak, so it’s best to stay in the hospital for observation for a period of time.”
Upon hearing the two words “hospital,” Shen Jiali’s mind conjured up the image of himself lying on a hospital bed before time travel, covered in tubes.
The hospital was definitely the biggest obstacle to his path of achieving ultimate laziness.
He definitely wouldn’t go to the hospital, absolutely not.
Frowning, he sat down in front of the computer, his entire body radiating resistance and reluctance.
The game had already been downloaded in advance by Uncle Li. It was a large-scale survival game depicting humans struggling to survive after a virus outbreak in a future world. You start with a dog, and all your gear is scavenged.
Word has it that this game is both a time sink and a cash sink (肝且氪), and top-tier max-level players in reality are all wealthy folks with a high-end liver.
Wait, cash sink? Spend money?
Money?
Given Nan Liujing’s financial power, wouldn’t small expenses like this just come with a wave of his hand?
Nan Liujing dropped a cold parting shot: “In one week, I want to see my account leveled up to at least sixty. Otherwise, Uncle Li will personally come to help you.”
Hearing Uncle Li’s name, Shen Jiali shivered.
Nan Liujing, you are truly ruthless.
According to the game research data Uncle Li gave him, this game had a notoriously slow leveling speed. To reach level 60 in a week, unless you joined a guild and clung to high-level players, it was utterly impossible.
Cohabiting day and night was the best way to nurture feelings. It seemed his grand divorce plan was just around the corner.
Nan Liujing sneered and signaled Uncle Li to wheel him out the door.
Shen Jiali sat in front of the computer for a long time before finally accepting his fate.
Clicking into the game, a dialog box popped up on the new player panel: [Please enter the brave hero’s honorable name]
Without even thinking, Shen Jiali casually typed in “Nan Liujing,” but a prompt popped up saying the nickname was already taken.
Tch.
He typed in “Shen Jiali” next, but a prompt informed him that the nickname contained prohibited characters.
Shen Jiali grew angry. Was his name some kind of filthy thing? The game developer really loved making a fuss over nothing—which exact character wasn’t normal?
Too lazy to think anymore.
Shen Jiali smashed his hands randomly across the keyboard, and without even looking, clicked “Confirm.”
The game popped up a prompt panel: [Player “Iron Bull Chrysanthemum”, would you like to enter the newbie tutorial now?]
Shen Jiali: …
Don’t blame me; Nan Liujing was the one who insisted I help him grind his account.
When choosing the character avatar, Shen Jiali was too lazy to pick carefully either, so he clicked on the very first character: a black muscular man wearing a white tank top, shorts, and flip-flops.
He breezed through the newbie tutorial simply, then clicked on the map to go to the trading market to adopt a dog.
There were many players in the trading market, and everywhere he went, social butterflies had their open mics on, flirting with girls across the market.
Shen Jiali suddenly forgot what he had come to the trading market for…
Whatever, let Iron Bull Chrysanthemum sit for a while; he’d also catch forty winks in the meantime.
Just as he sat down on a roadside bench, a prompt suddenly popped up in the dialog box.
[SUN: Hello, are you a newbie?]
Shen Jiali looked at the screen and saw a female-avatar character dressed in white standing next to the thick, hardened Iron Bull Chrysanthemum.
The female character had a tall posture, dressed in a dark blue top paired with light-colored jeans, sporting ear-length short hair and giving off the vibe of an icy older sister.
[Iron Bull Chrysanthemum: .]
Too lazy to type; the other party should understand what a period means, right?
[SUN: I’m a returning player. My previous guild disbanded and my friends quit the game too. If you don’t mind, want to team up?]
[Iron Bull Chrysanthemum: .]
[SUN: Follow me, I’ll teach you how to do the quests, and then we can find a guild together so we can level up faster.]
[Iron Bull Chrysanthemum: [OK]]
Following SUN onto the plane, Shen Jiali couldn’t help falling into deep thought.
Are newcomers this popular in this game? A level 90 mega-pink-tag player returning to the game doesn’t go find a guild, but instead goes around flirting with newbies everywhere.
He always felt something was amiss.
Even the nickname SUN felt off; it seemed he had seen it somewhere before.
Whatever, can’t remember, don’t torture yourself.