When Chu Yu suddenly appeared behind her and pulled her into an embrace, Ci Wenjun realized that her chaotic brain had completely lost the ability to think. She could only instinctively hold on, gripping for dear life, terrified that everything was just an illusion and that the next second, Chu Yu would vanish.
The tangible reality of the embrace finally registered on her body, and she realized that Chu Yu was truly behind her, holding her.
The real Chu Yu had not left; she was right there behind her.
In response, Ci Wenjun hugged her back even tighter.
Her voice trembled.
“Chu Yu.”
“Mm, I am here.”
“Chu Yu.”
“I am here.”
“Chu Yu, do not leave.”
“I am not leaving.”
“Do not be angry, do not hate me, please do not hate me, Chu Yu.”
Ci Wenjun whimpered uncomfortably.
The security guard inside the elevator kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling, wishing he could find a cluster of cracks in the floor to crawl into. The way the two of them clung to each other made the very air between them feel thick and heavy.
She was already burning up from the fever.
The breath she exhaled carried a heat far exceeding normal body temperature.
Chu Yu suddenly felt a pang of regret.
In this condition, she had no idea how high Ci Wenjun’s fever was; she should have taken her straight to the hospital.
But now was not the time for regret. Fortunately, her family doctor was on twenty-four-hour standby.
Once Chu Yu finished taking Ci Wenjun’s temperature, changed her clothes according to the doctor’s instructions, and fetched a basin of warm water to wipe down her body, the family doctor finally arrived.
In truth, she had gotten there quite quickly. From the moment she received Chu Yu’s emergency notice, a half-hour drive had been squeezed into less than twenty minutes. Rushing all the way, she had made it in under thirty minutes. Before she even had a chance to catch her breath, she was hauled straight into the bedroom.
“Big Sis Chu, would you let me catch my breath for a second? Not a single traffic light was green on my way here.”
“Hurry up.”
Frowning, Chu Yu didn’t bother to be polite, simply urging her to be quick.
Wen Zhuo rolled her eyes at Chu Yu with zero elegance, but her hands moved efficiently, and she was genuinely curious deep down. Exactly what kind of person could reduce this eternally unflappable Big Sis Chu to such a state of panic?
Stepping into the bedroom and catching sight of the woman’s face, Wen Zhuo immediately understood the situation.
So she was hiding a beauty in her golden house.
Outwardly, however, she maintained her poised, professional medical demeanor.
She went through the motions of examining Ci Wenjun, confirming it was just a routine respiratory infection, and routinely started scolding:
“Xiao Chu, how are you taking care of people? She is sick to this degree, couldn’t you show a little consideration? Look at this, just look. It is 39.5 degrees Celsius. Can’t you cherish this young lady a bit?”
Chu Yu gave her a cold, sidelong glance, silently thinking that she was getting ahead of herself and pushing her luck just because she was given an inch.
Seeing this, Wen Zhuo chuckled.
She turned her gaze back to the beauty on the bed, her eyes full of admiration.
Chu Yu disliked anyone staring at Ci Wenjun with that kind of gaze, even if there was no malice behind it.
So she shifted her position slightly, blocking Wen Zhuo’s line of sight entirely.
Outwardly, she put on an indifferent front and asked, “How is she? Is she alright?”
Watching Chu Yu block her view, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that her possessiveness was flaring up again. But Wen Zhuo didn’t mind, simply answering Chu Yu’s question:
“Rest assured, she has just been sick for too long, pushing her body close to its absolute limit, and all her accumulated fatigue is finally catching up to her at once.”
“Speak English.”
Wen Zhuo let out an impatient click of her tongue and corrected her phrasing:
“She has been falling sick repeatedly over this period, bouncing back and forth between low-grade and high-grade fevers. Combined with overwork and chronic ailments, it is a case of illness descending like a landslide. The problem is not major. Some medicine, a good night’s sleep, and resting for two or three days should do the trick.”
“It is this severe, and she does not need an IV drip?”
“Relax, she does not need one.”
“But right now.” Chu Yu looked at the woman on the bed, whose expression held a hint of pain, feeling a stir of sympathy in her heart.
“Big Sis Chu, are you the doctor or am I? She does not need it right now. If her fever keeps coming back, of course I will hook her up to an IV.”
Frowning, Chu Yu ultimately agreed with Wen Zhuo’s assessment.
She moved quickly. The household had all the common medications on hand, some of which she had even taken out not long ago.
Carefully feeding the medicine to the woman on the bed, Chu Yu felt her heart soften completely as she watched her swallow the capsules obediently despite being unconscious.
Emerging from the bedroom, Wen Zhuo looked at Chu Yu, who was sitting on the living room sofa, and suddenly piped up:
“Speaking of which.”
The single phrase instantly made Chu Yu’s heart leap back into her throat.
Her face grew taut as she stared at Wen Zhuo, as if facing a major criminal case.
Wen Zhuo smiled first, offering reassurance:
“Do not be nervous. I just wanted to say that this young lady’s body has been hollowed out way too severely. She will get better this time, but what about the next? If this keeps up, her body simply will not hold out. If you genuinely care about her, give her a proper nutritional overhaul once she recovers. If you do not build her strength back up now, she is going to suffer when she gets older.”
Chu Yu wanted to say that she and Ci Wenjun were not in the kind of relationship Wen Zhuo imagined, and that Ci Wenjun’s health wasn’t her responsibility. If the woman herself didn’t cherish her own body, why should an outsider like her care?
Yet the next second, Wen Zhuo’s words forced those thoughts back down her throat:
“Do not brush this off. You can fool others, but you cannot fool me. Listen to me and help her recuperate properly. With a body like hers, whether she can safely live to old age is a question. Just think, if she ends up passing away prematurely and leaving you behind, won’t you be the one suffering?”
Having said her piece, Wen Zhuo stopped paying attention to Chu Yu’s reaction.
As far as she was concerned, she observed more than she meddled, and she had only offered a gentle reminder because Chu Yu was her friend.
So the moment she finished speaking, the air fell into a heavy silence.
Meanwhile, the outwardly calm Chu Yu was actually replaying Wen Zhuo’s words on a loop inside her head: Ci Wenjun might pass away prematurely.
Just the thought of such a possibility made her heart ache as if it had been twisted into a tangled ball of yarn.
Wen Zhuo stayed for a while longer, but growing bored soon after, she started making noise about leaving.
Ever since Wen Zhuo delivered those words, Chu Yu had remained silent, lost in thought with her brows knitted tightly together.
It wasn’t until Wen Zhuo had packed her things and reached for the door that Chu Yu seemed to have finally made up her mind, reaching out to grab Wen Zhuo’s sleeve.
“What?”
The words she wanted to say rolled around in her mouth before her gaze dropped toward the bedroom door.
“When you get back, help me put together a meal plan for body recovery.”
Facing away from Chu Yu, a knowing, mischievous smile bloomed across Wen Zhuo’s face.
“You got it.”
After Wen Zhuo left, Chu Yu sat alone in the living room, hesitating for a moment before finally heading back into the bedroom.
The bedroom lighting had been dimmed to a comfortable level, soft on the eyes.
Having taken her medicine, the woman on the bed was now occupying Chu Yu’s bed, sleeping soundly. The flush on her cheeks had yet to fade, her lips parted slightly, and her brows remained furrowed together, suggesting she wasn’t having a pleasant dream.
Holding a cup of warm water, Chu Yu sat down beside Ci Wenjun.
The poor little thing still had pale edges around her lips; the high fever had inevitably caused her full lips to chap.
Picking up a prepared cotton swab dipped in water, she gently and meticulously moistened the woman’s lips.
She had no intention of waking her up.
If her guess was correct, Ci Wenjun definitely hadn’t been resting properly over the past few days.
The dark circles under her eyes were prominent, clearly indicating she hadn’t closed her eyes for a proper sleep.
Since she was sick and uncomfortable, she should just let her rest well in her dreams.
With the moisture restored, her lip color looked much better.
Chu Yu stroked the woman’s temple, then grabbed a damp towel to gently dab away the cold, clammy sweat clinging to her forehead and neck.
Once everything was handled, Chu Yu let out an exhausted stretch.
It wasn’t just Ci Wenjun who hadn’t slept well.
Not long after Ci Wenjun left that morning, Chu Yu had received a call from her subordinate and rushed urgently to an auction house in Belgium. She spent four days in Belgium before hurrying day and night to Norway, only returning to the country two days ago. After that whirlwind of fatigue, she had even visited the mountain primary school she sponsored two years ago, staying there for two days before enduring another seven or eight hours of bumpy travel to catch the earliest available flight back.
Running on zero sleep through all of it, Chu Yu was utterly exhausted. Dragging her tired body, she laid down beside Ci Wenjun.
The moment she touched the soft mattress, a completely different sensation from usual washed over her, no longer cold, no longer lonely.
A warm heat source rested close by, bringing a long-lost, profound sense of security.
The moderate softness cushioned her soul, which had been pushed to its absolute limit.
She let out a comfortable sigh, and as her body relaxed, she could almost hear her bones clicking softly.
Adjusting into a comfortable position, Chu Yu half-closed her eyes and turned her head to look at the woman beside her. At a distance of less than ten centimeters, she could clearly hear the sound of her breathing and catch the sweet fragrance radiating from her feverish warmth.
The scent was so rich.
It felt as though she might drown in this sweet ocean the very next second.
It had been so long since she felt like this. Her fingers slowly reached out to touch the bridge of the woman’s petite nose, giving it a light tap.
She muttered in a husky voice:
“Disobedient.”
With that, she withdrew her hand, allowing her consciousness to slowly sink into the deeper, dark ocean of sleep.
Night fell quietly, leaving only a dim, warm nightlight glowing.
On the bed, two women slept side by side, leaning against each other.
Time passed in silence.
Ci Wenjun slept a long, deep sleep. When she finally woke up, she felt somewhat dazed. Opening her eyes, she only felt a dull, throbbing pain pulling at the nerves behind her eyeballs, accompanied by a lingering dizziness.
She lay on the bed for a moment, still struggling to process reality.
Her head was fuzzy, and everything that had happened before she lost consciousness felt blurry, with only vague memories remaining.
Wait, fainting?
Her mind felt like it had a mini nightclub crammed inside.
Where had she passed out?
What was she doing right before she fainted?
Chu Yu.
Catching hold of Chu Yu’s name as it flashed across her mind, she latched onto it sharply.
Right, she was downstairs at Chu Yu’s place.
And then what?
Chu Yu seemed to have walked away.
The thought exploded in her mind like a thunderbolt, shattering all reason and leaving behind only a single terrifying phrase: Chu Yu left, she was angry enough to leave, Chu Yu doesn’t want her anymore.
Her mind was a barren wasteland. Tears were the first to break free and stream down her face, until a warm hand gently landed on the back of her head.
“Why are you crying?”
The woman’s voice was calm, yet carried an unmistakable undercurrent of concern.
Ci Wenjun stiffened, her body reacting on pure instinct as she threw her arms around the woman behind her.
“Chu Yu.”
Her urgent cry carried a heavy sob.
Chu Yu lowered her gaze, watching Ci Wenjun bury her face in her chest and cry aggrievedly, ripples of heartache washing through her eyes.
“Mm.”
“You didn’t leave?”
She lifted her head, desperately wanting to see Chu Yu’s face.
Hearing this, Chu Yu raised an eyebrow, as if hearing something astonishing.
“This is my home, why would I leave? What, did you want me to leave, or did you not want me to come back?”
Realizing she had said the wrong thing, Ci Wenjun hurriedly shook her head, but at a loss for how to explain, her little face turned beet red while aggrieved tears welled up in her eyes.
That wasn’t what she meant at all. How could Chu Yu interpret it that way?
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Chu Yu to come back; it was clearly, clearly Chu Yu who had walked away first. At the thought, Ci Wenjun felt a fresh wave of grievance.
Sickness truly magnified a person’s vulnerability.
Just like right now, Ci Wenjun had turned into a crying mess in Chu Yu’s arms, looking as pitiful as one could possibly be.
As for Chu Yu, she didn’t try to coax her either; she simply smiled faintly as she wrapped her arms around Ci Wenjun, watching her sob her heart out against her chest.
To be honest, sometimes she didn’t understand Ci Wenjun.
Just like right now, she couldn’t fathom why she was crying, or why she was grieving so deeply.
She didn’t understand. Yet seeing her cry made her feel so miserable, so heartbroken.
So she didn’t understand herself, either.
She remembered when she met up with her friend in Norway, and her friend had asked her:
“So, do you still love her?”
A biting, chilling wind struck her face, numbing the muscles of her skin.
Yet she still found herself smiling instinctively, even though her eyes held a faint trace of self-mockery and her lips curled with bitterness.
“I have never stopped loving her.”
“Jiang Huan, I have never once stopped loving her.”
Not far away, the distant roar of ocean waves echoed through the air.
“Is that so.”
The crashing waves swallowed their voices, yet bore witness to the conversation between the two of them.
She didn’t know which day, or at what exact moment, her gaze had stopped listening to her control, and her heart had stopped obeying her commands. She loved her, she had always loved her.
“But Jiang Huan, I don’t want to love her anymore.”
Loving someone was simply too exhausting.
Loving someone meant your smiles, your sorrows, and even your tears no longer belonged to you.
“Then stay away from her.”
Just like before, hide away, hide away, and everything would be fine.