QQQ: Bunny, is your stomach still hurting?
Jiang Wan typed and deleted in the chat box, unsure how to respond. He wanted to pretend everything was fine as usual, simply replying with “It doesn’t hurt,” but he didn’t want to lie to Wen Qian.
Bunny: It doesn’t hurt.
Wen Qian sent a video.
The video wasn’t long, only about a minute, and the footage was a bit blurry. The beginning was shaky, likely from Wen Qian picking up the phone to start recording.
Young Lu Xingxing was riding his bike at full speed, stirring up waves of hot air, while Jiang Wan sat behind him, somewhat dazed, clutching the hem of his shirt.
Where were they going… Jiang Wan couldn’t quite remember.
He sent a message to Lu Xingheng.
Bunny: Where were we going back then?
Lu Xingheng didn’t reply. Jiang Wan rubbed his stomach while dragging the video progress bar back.
WWW: To piano lessons.
Jiang Wan was puzzled.
Bunny: Then what was I doing there?
WWW: Look behind you.
His stomach felt heavy and uncomfortable, as if a lump of ice were lodged inside. Jiang Wan thought Lu Xingheng was joking and only glanced up half-heartedly.
Sure enough, there was nothing there.
Lu Xingheng: “”
“Jiang Wan.” Lu Xingheng tapped his left shoulder from behind. “This is behind you.”
Jiang Wan was startled for a moment, his hand pressing unconsciously against his stomach, almost making himself gag.
He couldn’t bear the pain but didn’t want to show weakness in front of Lu Xingheng again, so he smiled faintly at him. “I shouldn’t have sat in the draft. It’s a bit cold.”
Jiang Wan’s voice trembled slightly. “Could you give me a hand?”
Lu Xingheng frowned and reached out to pull Jiang Wan up. “Can you walk?”
“Yes.” Jiang Wan was still smiling. He pointed toward He’an Lake. “Lu Xingxing, this is our school’s famous dating spot.”
Lu Xingheng: “Mm.”
The moment he pulled Jiang Wan up, Lu Xingheng realized just how thin he was. Usually hidden under his jacket, Jiang Wan’s school uniform hung loosely, as if there were space for another person inside.
Jiang Wan covered his stomach with one hand. “What are you ‘mm’-ing about?”
“If all you can say is ‘mm,’ then I’ll ‘mm’ too.”
Lu Xingheng: “”
His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he gave up trying to respond.
Jiang Wan was amused by Lu Xingheng’s hesitant expression, and for a moment, the dull ache in his stomach eased a little.
Lu Xingheng, the renowned scion of a prominent family, gentle and cool in nature, a cure-all, especially skilled with stomach ailments.
Enduring the pain, Jiang Wan lifted Lu Xingheng’s chin. “Lu Xingxing, why don’t you bend down a little? Let me experience the dating spot too.”
Lu Xingheng didn’t quite understand. Jiang Wan’s voice trembled at the end, his palms damp with cold sweat, clearly uncomfortable. “Is your stomach still bothering you?”
Jiang Wan whispered, “Can’t you just pretend you don’t know?”
“I don’t want to be in pain either.”
Lu Xingheng didn’t reply. He tore open the previously purchased heat patch, folded it into a small square, and placed it in Jiang Wan’s palm.
Then he tore open another heat patch and handed it to Jiang Wan. “Warm your stomach first.”
“No need.” Jiang Wan pressed against his stomach. “Going from cold to hot… I can’t handle it.”
Lu Xingheng suddenly remembered the joke Jiang Wan had made in the infirmary. He reached out and gently placed his hand over Jiang Wan’s stomach.
Jiang Wan stiffened, momentarily forgetting the pain.
Lu Xingheng rubbed gently up and down. Jiang Wan’s waist was slender, and his body was much colder than his exposed hands.
It was the first time Lu Xingheng realized that someone with a cold constitution could feel this cold—there was no warmth at all beneath his jacket.
“Lu Xingxing, I mean…” Jiang Wan’s voice was soft, and if one listened carefully, there was a hint of laughter in it. “What are you touching all over the place?”
“A little higher, the stomach is here…” Jiang Wan’s hand, numb from the cold, guided Lu Xingheng upward.
“Here?” Lu Xingheng warmed it gently, afraid to press too hard in case it hurt Jiang Wan.
Jiang Wan held back for a moment but couldn’t help laughing, “…Are you a human-shaped heating pad?”
Lu Xingheng: “Does it hurt a lot?”
Jiang Wan chuckled, “What are you afraid of? I’m not a porcelain doll.”
Lu Xingheng’s touch was much lighter than Jiang Wenyan’s. His fingers were long and slender, gently massaging in a clockwise motion.
Jiang Wan blinked lightly. Lu Xingxing’s hands were quite nice.
“Isn’t it a waste to use hands meant for playing the piano to massage my stomach?”
Lu Xingheng massaged earnestly, “I did this for you when we were kids too.”
Jiang Wan: “Did you just grope around like this back then too?”
Lu Xingheng: “…”
Jiang Wan was puzzled, “Then how come you didn’t know I was a boy?”
Lu Xingheng: “I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
Lu Xingheng’s tone was flat, tinged with helplessness, “I didn’t mean to do that earlier.”
Warmth spread through his stomach, easing the earlier sharp pain. Jiang Wan muttered softly, “Found a treasure—you really can cure anything.”
Lu Xingheng didn’t catch it, “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” Jiang Wan tapped the back of Lu Xingheng’s hand with his cold fingertips, “Thanks, Dr. Lu, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Lu Xingheng’s hand slid downward, lightly massaging Jiang Wan’s abs through his clothes.
Lu Xingheng suspected Jiang Wan’s abs were just from being lean—thin and faint, but probably quite attractive.
If the earlier touch had been accidental, this time, under Jiang Wan’s gaze, Lu Xingheng gently massaged again.
Jiang Wan’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. He reached out and grabbed Lu Xingheng’s wrist, his voice low and slightly hoarse, “Lu Xingxing, what are you doing?”
Lu Xingheng didn’t let go, “I’m warming your stomach.”
Jiang Wan replied hoarsely, “No need.”
Lu Xingheng was uncharacteristically stubborn, “It’s cold inside.”
“…”
Jiang Wan closed his eyes, “Don’t move for now.”
Lu Xingheng stayed still, his palm still resting on Jiang Wan’s abs.
Jiang Wan: “Close your eyes.”
Lu Xingheng closed his eyes without question, then felt the hem of his school uniform being lifted.
A slightly cold hand gently pressed against his upper abdomen, stomach, and then his abs.
Lu Xingheng’s eyelashes fluttered.
Jiang Wan didn’t massage like Lu Xingheng had—at most, he just pressed lightly, “How does it feel?”
Lu Xingheng: “Your hand is too cold.”
Jiang Wan felt resigned.
Fine, warming it is warming it.
Jiang Wan gave in, “Go ahead and massage.”