Chapter 22

The matter has been exposed!

Shang Mingbao, weak in the knees, was under Xiang Feiran, her pupils wide with shock: “Y-you…”

Xiang Feiran held her hands firmly, not moving an inch. With his other hand, he leisurely supported himself against the wall by her ear: “What about me?”

“You…” Shang Mingbao, like a rabbit about to whistle, pouted and mumbled: “Have you lost your mind? Go back and get some rest.”

Xiang Feiran subtly raised an eyebrow: “Really? If I leave, I won’t come back.”

Though he said that, he showed no intention of moving at all.

Shang Mingbao was completely unfazed by his threat: “Fine, go ahead. Go find your Mingbao sister. We only met once, so there’s no need to see each other again in the future.”

Xiang Feiran was almost amused to the point of laughter. He pulled his mask down a bit further and leaned his lips close to her ear: “Your voice hasn’t changed, your unreasonable and delicate manner hasn’t changed, your tone when you call me ‘Feiran Gege’ hasn’t changed, your habit of darting your eyes when lying hasn’t changed, your tendency to use charm to avoid being in the wrong hasn’t changed, and the mole behind your ear hasn’t changed… Why do you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

Shang Mingbao quickly pulled her hand back and touched her right earlobe.

Is there a mole there? How come she didn’t know?

Xiang Feiran’s gaze, close to hers, fell: “The left ear.”

Shang Mingbao touched her left ear again. When she raised her hand, her hand brushed against his lips.

His lips were soft and warm—definitely… feverish.

They both paused for a moment, but neither spoke or moved, as if the previous scene hadn’t happened.

In the silence, only his tall shadow covered her, just as his breath covered hers.

Shang Mingbao pinched her left earlobe, her heartbeat racing so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Xiang Feiran then softly laughed: “I was just joking.”

“Is it true or not…” Shang Mingbao’s voice was as faint as a whisper.

“When did you ever get to feel the mole? Look in the mirror yourself.”

“Oh…” Shang Mingbao stopped struggling, and after a moment, raised her eyes with a half-held breath, finally obediently calling: “Feiran Gege.”

Xiang Feiran’s gaze fell, not sure if it landed on her eyelashes or lips. The teasing in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a tenderness he himself didn’t notice.

“Not pretending anymore?” he asked softly.

“Mm,” Shang Mingbao nodded.

“Why did you pretend not to know me that day?”

“I thought you didn’t recognize me…”

“Before I even saw you, I recognized your voice. He called you ‘babe,’ and you said your housekeeper is Sophie.”

Shang Mingbao was aware of these inconsistencies; it was precisely because she had a vague sense of them that she forced herself not to think too much about it. When Xiang Feiran mentioned them, her heart tightened: “You were there all along?”

“Always.”

“Then you…” She found it hard to say.

“What?” Xiang Feiran’s voice was low and hoarse, restraining the impulse to rub his thumb against her lips.

“You heard everything from start to finish…”

Xiang Feiran was stunned for a moment, realizing. All along, she had gone through such elaborate deception, only to cut off everything in the attic from ‘Shang Mingbao.’

“No, I was wearing headphones,” he lied smoothly. “I started listening when I was supposed to help you move.”

Shang Mingbao recalled with great effort and hesitantly said: “That cigarette…”

“He was the one who persuaded you to smoke.”

Shang Mingbao felt a breath of relief inside: “Mm, he’s not learning anything good and wants to corrupt me.”

Xiang Feiran smirked: “So, it’s best to have fewer bad friends.”

After a pause, as if teasing her or speaking seriously: “But I smoke too.”

Shang Mingbao immediately clutched at his clothing: “You don’t count.”

Xiang Feiran continued to speak in a whisper: “Do you trust me that much?”

Shang Mingbao felt the air was stuffy, trapped between him and the wall, her body temperature rising uncontrollably, making her head fuzzy. She finally gently moved: “It’s hot…”

When Xiang Feiran finally released her wrist, she realized he had been holding it while speaking, his thumb pressing on her blue veins. No wonder her heartbeat was so uncomfortable—it was because of his pressure.

She stepped away from his embrace: “You recognized me a long time ago but didn’t say anything. Was it deliberate—”

A soft “thud” sound, and looking back, Xiang Feiran was leaning against the wall, his forehead pressed against it, seeming to collapse. The “thud” sound was probably him hitting the wall.

Shang Mingbao hurried back to his side: “Are you okay?”

Xiang Feiran, who had held on all afternoon, finally reached his limit, eyes closed, voice hoarse: “I have a fever.”

He felt unusual; he had never experienced such intense heartburn before.

Shang Mingbao extended her arm: “Let me check.”

Xiang Feiran turned his face, allowing her hot palm to touch him. After two seconds, feeling uncertain, he reminded her: “Use the back of your hand.”

Shang Mingbao then placed her hand back. Her palm was very hot, while the back of her hand was cool, soft as if without bones, and smooth like a cold, water-soaked silk handkerchief. Xiang Feiran, without thinking much, instinctively held her hand when she tried to pull it away: “Let me keep it for a while.”

“Hmm?”

“Comfortable,” Xiang Feiran murmured in a low, sluggish voice.

Shang Mingbao let him hold her hand… her palm.

Doesn’t this feel a bit like holding hands?

She dared not make a sound, taking advantage of Xiang Feiran’s closed eyes to press her lips tightly.

He was so skilled. Shang Mingbao thought for the hundredth time.

Swallowing, she spoke seriously: “I’ll call an ambulance for you.”

Xiang Feiran frowned prettily: “Can’t afford it.”

“Then… I’ll look for a nearby clinic.”

“No need.”

Shang Mingbao thought hard: “Then you lie down on the sofa. I’ll take care of you.”

Xiang Feiran lifted his eyes at her words: “Don’t let me die under your care, little sister.”

“……”

You’re out of your mind… What are you saying?

Xiang Feiran released her hand, his expression indifferent as he pulled up his mask: “I’m going back. See you next time.”

“Hey,”

Shang Mingbao followed behind him, ready to support him: “Are you okay?”

Xiang Feiran answered firmly: “I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to collapse halfway?”

“No.” Xiang Feiran opened the door and looked at Shang Mingbao quietly through his bangs for a few seconds: “I’m glad I could see you again, Shang Mingbao.”

Shang Mingbao was stunned. In the moment of her daze, Xiang Feiran gently gathered her head with his arm.

“The mole is on the right ear.”

He closed the door, and with a soft click of the lock, Shang Mingbao took a deep breath and crouched down by the door, her face flushed: “What the heck…”

Xiang Feiran leaned against the wall and coughed several times, and after shaking his head, he mustered the energy to get into the elevator.

It was a foolish move; he shouldn’t have stayed up all night just to free up a few hours. Would he really faint on the way?

Although he received a full scholarship and additional funding from his advisor, along with bar performance fees, there was still a lot of expense living in New York. He remained conservative with his spending, even with his support back home.

Sick as he was, Xiang Feiran didn’t take a cab and chose to take the subway back. The walk to Columbus Circle was a bit of a distance, and the cold wind made him a bit more awake as he put on his headphones.

New York subway signals were notoriously unreliable. Not catching the first train, he took the opportunity to text Shang Mingbao when there was a signal.

Shang Mingbao was frustrated: 【I just forgot to get you a cab】

Xiang Feiran naturally lied: 【It’s fine, I took one myself】

Shang Mingbao reminded: 【Do you have medicine at home? Is there someone to take care of you?】

Xiang Feiran: 【I have a male roommate】

Shang Mingbao angrily replied: 【Who asked you that?】

Xiang Feiran smiled. As the subway approached, he sent a quick message: 【Sleeping for a bit】 and put his phone away. Seeing no available seats, he lazily leaned against the door and closed his eyes. A commotion of shouting and footsteps occurred when the doors opened, but he kept his eyes shut, absorbed in reviewing the afternoon’s events.

Finally reaching his front door, he collapsed into Simon, who had come to open it.

Simon: “……?”

Aren’t you supposed to be impervious to everything?

Simon, who was also at Columbia University but working in a different field, was glad to have Xiang Feiran as a roommate. Xiang Feiran was low-maintenance, quiet, straightforward with money, and never brought women home. Simon, in turn, never commented on Simon’s own overnight guests.

In short, Simon was a very “neat” person with a strong sense of boundaries.

After carrying Xiang Feiran to the bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, Simon put a thermometer under Xiang Feiran’s tongue and brought in a glass of water.

With a fever of over forty degrees Celsius, Simon couldn’t help but admire: “Weren’t you just back from the lab in the morning? Such determination, even on a date?”

Xiang Feiran mumbled in a daze.

Simon fed him a fever reducer, covered him with the blanket, and tucked in the corners: “If it gets worse, you should go to a hospital. But let’s wait until your fever subsides.”

Xiang Feiran, annoyed by Simon’s fussing, lifted a finger to shoo him away.

He slept deeply until two in the morning, waking up to the moonlight streaming through the octagonal window.

Dr. Xiang, having mundane matters on his mind, first reached for his phone instead of rolling over to continue sleeping. After searching for a while, he suspected it was still in Simon’s coat pocket on the chair.

Dr. Xiang’s first reaction was to get up and search for his phone, rather than lazily continuing to sleep.

The screen showed a stack of unread messages, including dozens of missed WhatsApp calls.

He poured himself a glass of water, leaned against his desk, and began to read through them.

All were from Shang Mingbao. Some asked if he had gotten home, others worried he might be in trouble, some threatened to call 911 to break in, and some said they couldn’t find his place.

To get his address, she even contacted Wu Baiyan. Normally, such an invitation would come with a paper invitation, which Wu Baiyan should have on record. Wu Baiyan received her call at the party, and realizing something, stepped outside the villa to a quiet corner.

When she asked about Xiang Feiran, Wu Baiyan’s expression darkened, and he mockingly asked: “What? Have you fallen for him at first sight?”

Shang Mingbao’s tone was serious: “Stop joking around. This is a matter of life and death.”

Wu Baiyan, digging his ears, said: “It’s just a fever. He won’t die from it. You think he’s like you, needing someone to take care of him to survive?”

Shang Mingbao was furious: “Are you going to give me the address or not?”

Wu Baiyan’s tone turned cold: “How can I give it to you if I don’t have it?”

Before Shang Mingbao hung up, Wu Baiyan realized something, and his face turned serious: “How do you know he has a fever? Have you met him?”

Shang Mingbao didn’t answer and hung up, but the answer was clear.

The last call was twenty minutes ago, at 1:30 AM. Xiang Feiran, having finished his water, called back.

Shang Mingbao answered quickly and asked: “Are you alive?”

Xiang Feiran smiled slightly as he walked to the octagonal window where the snow had yet to melt: “I’m alive.”

The moonlight danced across his well-defined muscles as he opened half of the window to let the cold air dissipate the room’s heat. He reached for a cigarette and lighter from the pile of books on the bedside table.

Shang Mingbao clearly breathed a sigh of relief: “I thought you might be dead.”

Xiang Feiran took a drag from his cigarette and replied earnestly: “I’m not that fragile, and I’m not quite ready to give up yet.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, it was time to hang up. Shang Mingbao, in a moment of impulse, asked: “My place is still a mess. When will you be free?”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going to live there. Is it as big as your current closet?”

“……”

No.

“Never mind,” Shang Mingbao said, trying to brush it off.

Xiang Feiran chuckled: “Alright, I won’t ask. I’m free tomorrow. What time?”

“Huh?” Shang Mingbao replied in confusion: “You said last time that you weren’t available on Sunday.”

“I’ve just become free.”

Shang Mingbao sensed that asking why might be dangerous, so she refrained from probing further. Her intuition warned her that the question could lead to unexpected complications.

She suggested a slightly later afternoon time so he could rest a bit longer. She made sure to mention this, as if claiming credit, which elicited a smile from him: “Thank you.”

It was Shang Mingbao’s first phone conversation with him, and she found herself wondering why his voice sounded so unusually pleasant.

Before ending the call, she rolled up in her blanket and wished him good night.

Xiang Feiran returned the sentiment: “Good night.”

As he pondered something, his gaze darkened in the moonlight. Extinguishing his cigarette, he stood up and asked: “Did you find that mole?”