Chapter 23 – Lie Down

When Sheng Yize returned to the hospital, it was already past nine in the evening.

The room lights weren’t fully turned on—only a floor lamp glowed softly.

Bright moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a silvery sheen across the floor. It blended with the lamplight, dispelling much of the darkness within the room.

He walked over lightly and stood by the bed, lowering his eyes under the moonlight to gaze at the girl lying there.

She was naturally fair-skinned, and under the moonlight, even the fine fuzz on her cheeks could be seen.

Her breathing was shallow, but audible.

Sheng Yize leaned in and gently placed his hand on her forehead.

The fever was completely gone.

Relieved, he was just about to withdraw his hand when the girl on the bed slowly opened her eyes.

Still half-asleep or perhaps dreaming, Sang Sui saw a man in black standing by her bed.

His hand was on her forehead, the brim of his black cap was pulled low, revealing only a sharp, defined jawline—like the figure of death.

Still groggy, she instinctively asked, “Are you the Black Wuchang?”

“……”

Was she still dreaming?

The man’s brow twitched. His palm, which had been resting on her forehead, slowly slid down and pinched her cheek.

Much harder than last time.

Sang Sui winced in pain and finally came fully awake.

She immediately sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

Sheng Yize?

The man took off his cap and set it aside, pulled over a chair, and sat down, eyeing her lazily.

His tone was relaxed: “Still think I’m the Black Wuchang?”

Sang Sui chuckled and shook her head. “You’re back?”

Sheng Yize stared into her eyes—reflections of scattered moonlight sparkled within them, clear and pure.

“Were you waiting for me?” he asked.

“Mm.”

“What for?”

“……”

Sang Sui was momentarily at a loss for words and blinked.

She recalled what Lin Luoluo had told her, and the discomfort she’d been feeling seemed to dissipate.

Maybe…

He really had been worried about her.

She looked at him and said seriously, “From now on, I’ll listen to you. I won’t do dangerous things again.”

Sheng Yize raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t make you worry anymore. I’ll behave from now on.”

He gazed into her eyes and let out a soft laugh.

Surprisingly obedient.

“Lie down,” he said as he stood up.

“Huh?” Although puzzled, Sang Sui obediently lay back down.

Sheng Yize reached out and pulled the blanket up to her neck, tucking it in carefully.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

“Why?”

“Go to sleep.”

“It’s only nine. Still early…”

“Early what? Little brats should sleep early and get up early.”

“……”

Seeing her dawdle, Sheng Yize urged, “Hurry up.”

“…Okay.” Sang Sui finally shut her eyes obediently.

The room fell silent. With her eyes closed, her hearing sharpened. She could clearly hear the sound of the man unzipping something.

She cracked open one eye and sneakily peeked at him.

He unzipped his black windbreaker and took it off, then casually tossed it onto the nearby sofa.

Thinking he was about to leave, Sang Sui grew anxious. “You’re going back?”

He sat down lazily. “No.”

As if remembering something, he added, “I’m staying with you.”

Sang Sui pressed her lips together. Her heart tasted of something sweet.

She closed her eyes with a smile. “Okay.”

–

They didn’t speak. The room was so quiet, it felt like they could hear each other’s breathing.

She really could hear it.

His breaths were deeper than hers and stood out more in the stillness of the room.

They had known each other for years, but rarely spent quiet moments like this alone.

So she had never noticed how, in such silence, his breathing sounded as if it were right by her ear—easily stirring every nerve in her body.

That secret, silent affection seemed to take on clear form in that moment. Sang Sui couldn’t help but smile.

Sheng Yize caught the curve of her lips, his brows rising slightly.

Not sleeping properly, and grinning like a fool?

“What are you giggling about?” he asked coolly.

Caught red-handed, Sang Sui quickly stifled her smile, coughed awkwardly, and turned over to face away.

Her cheek pressed into the soft pillow as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Sheng Yize,” she said, “thank you.”

“What for?”

“For asking Lin Luoluo to keep me company… and for having her buy the food I like.”

Sheng Yize’s gaze dropped slightly. He was silent for a few seconds.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“…Okay.”

The room gradually quieted again.

With him by her side and the sound of his breathing in her ears, Sang Sui found it hard to sleep.

Scenes from the past flashed through her mind, frame by frame.

Back when she first entered the Sheng family, although Sheng Yize was cold, he’d never treated her with the kind of chilling indifference that made her feel disliked.

They had gotten along fairly well. In fact, when she first got her period, it was he who took her to the hospital. That event had shifted their relationship from distant to familiar.

He wasn’t as cold as before. He would take the initiative to talk to her, to take her places.

But when had that begun to change?

Probably after Aunt Lin passed away.

It was that summer, right after he finished his college entrance exams, when Aunt Lin suddenly died.

Since then, he changed.

He became even colder, and when facing her, always seemed to carry a hint of aloofness or veiled hostility.

She was sensitive and had felt it early on—that Sheng Yize disliked her.

But why?

She never understood.

“Sheng Yize.”

The man’s closed eyelids twitched slightly.

Her voice was soft and distant, as if she were asking him—or asking herself—

“Why do you hate me so much?”

But all that answered her was his silence.

She slowly turned over and saw him leaning back in the chair, arms crossed, long legs stretched out carelessly.

His deep-set eyes were closed, and his breathing was steady.

He was asleep.

Sang Sui lowered her eyes, a bit disappointed.

She turned back around slowly and stared blankly into the distance.

Night deepened, and Sang Sui gradually drifted into sleep.

Hearing her soft breathing from the hospital bed, Sheng Yize slowly opened his eyes.

Why did he hate her?

Even he had always struggled, torn between answers and choices.

He could never find a clear reason.

But at the very least, now, he should apologize for the way he had treated her.

He gazed at her small, curled-up figure. His voice was light, drifting in the stillness of the dim hospital room—

“…I’m sorry.”

For the cruel things I said to you on the rooftop.