Chapter 25

Dr. Li naturally wouldn’t argue with a patient. He just glanced at Chi Zhihan before heading across to prepare the medication.

Chi Zhihan understood the meaning behind that glance. She was the one taking care of Qi Cheng, and this matter was entirely her responsibility.

“I didn’t have an episode,” Qi Cheng spoke up unusually proactively, his brows slightly furrowed. “That’s the main point.”

Yes, he hadn’t had an episode.

Compared to an autistic episode during acute pancreatitis, the bruises that would fade in a few days were nothing. This was the core of Qi Cheng’s proactive explanation.

Chi Zhihan understood.

But she also knew that he was desperately trying to please her. When life seemed hopeless, he had frantically latched onto a stranger.

Before Dr. Li’s blunt revelation, she had secretly felt pleased with herself. The feeling of being needed was good. She had just been chatting with this man, keeping him company, and perhaps even saving someone in the process.

When she was with Qi Cheng, the most she ever saw was his cold sweat and the occasional rapid breathing. The phantom pains and the so-called autistic episodes were things she couldn’t imagine and had never witnessed. Occasionally, she even forgot that this Qi Cheng was a psychological patient.

Until today, when she saw the bruises on his pale back.

No matter how much Dr. Zhao warned her, after meeting Qi Cheng, especially after these past few days of interaction, she had subconsciously forgotten that Qi Cheng could die.

Psychologically fragile, physically weakened by long-term mental torment—he had been putting on his best face for her, and she had accepted it.

Often, she thought, ‘It’s not as serious as they say. Look, I’m sleeping just fine, aren’t I? Look, I can touch him, and after a bit of pain, it’s fine. Look, all those taboos you mentioned aren’t a problem for me.’

Psychological illness was a strange concept to her. It felt serious, but when she saw Qi Cheng acting normally, she thought it was something that could be overcome. After all, it was just a psychological issue.

Until today, when the bruises on his back slapped her hard in the face.

All that self-satisfaction, all that pride, were illusions Qi Cheng had worked hard to create for her.

And she, from start to finish, had been half-sincere, half-curious.

“Dr. Li isn’t one to gossip. At most, he’ll only discuss this with Dr. Zhao,” Qi Cheng’s brows slowly formed a frown, and he spoke more words than usual. “My brother is about to join a new project team and won’t have free time for a long while. My sister just gave birth to a daughter and is still in her postpartum recovery period. They won’t disturb your life anymore.”

Chi Zhihan looked at Qi Cheng, biting her lip.

“Even if they deduct your pay, don’t worry,” Qi Cheng smiled faintly, his brows still furrowed. “I’m quite wealthy. I can make up for it.”

This… fool.

“Do you feel it coming before an episode?” Chi Zhihan crouched by the bed, asking an unrelated question.

“…” Qi Cheng’s dark pupils flickered. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to answer, but rather that he didn’t know how to answer in a way that would make Chi Zhihan feel better.

Chi Zhihan was clearly deeply shaken.

He was too familiar with these two doctors. Even with his eyes closed, he could guess what Dr. Zhao had told her—probably something about her being a source of light and warmth.

The purpose was to boost her morale, keep her on edge, and, in the process, give him more positive energy.

Of course, he knew that Chi Zhihan’s sincerity toward him wasn’t as pure as that of his family. Ever since she discovered that getting close to him made him break out in a cold sweat, she had tested him several times, coming and going to see how much sweat he could produce.

Her eyes had been filled with amazement, as if she couldn’t believe he could react so quickly.

He should have hated that kind of reaction. No one with psychological issues would enjoy being treated as a research subject by a stranger.

But for some reason, he was inexplicably moved by her curiosity and joy.

Seeing her smile, her dimples faintly visible, made him feel that breaking out in a cold sweat wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t good at socializing, but he could still please her with other physical reactions.

He had lowered himself to the dust.

So he didn’t know what emotion Chi Zhihan’s question was based on.

Because when she asked, her expression was serious, unlike her usual absentmindedness.

“There are physical warning signs,” he cautiously offered a vague answer, glancing at Chi Zhihan’s expression.

She still looked serious.

“…At first, it feels like everything around me is loud—like the sound of the heater, the sound of people’s pulses, the sound of the wind against the windows. Those sounds become amplified, and my head starts to hurt,” he explained in detail, matching her seriousness. “Then I start to lose control, wanting to block out those sounds. Once it’s quiet, I can’t hear or see anything until some external stimulus wakes me up.”

“So the initial physical reaction is being overwhelmed by noise, which causes a headache?” Chi Zhihan sat cross-legged on the carpet by the bed, resting her chin on the edge of the bed.

The bed was large, and Qi Cheng slept on the inner side, maintaining a safe distance. At least for now, he wasn’t sweating.

“Yes,” Qi Cheng nodded, feeling uneasy.

“Does me sleeping here make you feel like there’s a loud pulse nearby?” Chi Zhihan quickly followed up with another question, not seeming discouraged at all.

It was as if the bruises Dr. Li had shown her earlier had no effect on her.

Qi Cheng pursed his lips, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He lowered his head and didn’t answer.

“Does pinching yourself make those sounds go away?” Chi Zhihan persisted eagerly, not waiting for his answer before asking the next question.

Was she curious again? Like when she tested how much he would sweat, was she experimenting on him?

“I… am inherently a sick person,” Qi Cheng lowered his head, staring at the texture of the gray cotton blanket. “These reactions don’t follow any logic.”

…

Chi Zhihan straightened up, seemingly wanting to move closer. She hesitated for a moment, looking at Qi Cheng’s lowered head, then gritted her teeth and decided to meet his gaze.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the bed, and met Qi Cheng’s eyes.

Because of his mood, Qi Cheng’s gaze was colder than usual. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable.

That coldness made Chi Zhihan’s throat tighten.

“I’m not actually a particularly kind person,” Chi Zhihan swallowed hard, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with Qi Cheng. “The contract at the beginning was very clear—I wasn’t supposed to have any interaction with you. But that day, Qi Ning offered to help me find my mom. I thought that someone the Qi family protected so carefully must be very important, so I wanted to please you. I deliberately violated the contract and spoke to you.”

“I didn’t know what illness you had, nor did I know the consequences of speaking to you. I simply took the risk because I wanted to find my mom. At that time, I didn’t consider your ability to handle it at all.” Chi Zhihan paused after speaking, waiting for Qi Cheng’s reaction.

Qi Cheng didn’t react, only his eyes blinked slightly in confusion.

His long lashes made him look as innocent as a child.

“I’m also very unreliable. Dr. Zhao told me a lot to get me involved in your treatment, but I treated most of it as stories,” Chi Zhihan unconsciously pursed her lips. “Your family is really like a wealthy dynasty. Most of what happens feels like a story, far removed from my life.”

“So when I was taking care of you, I also got curious and wanted to see how you’d react to certain external stimuli,” she bit her lip. “Thinking about it now, I really was bullying you.”

Qi Cheng was stunned for a moment, but this time he finally nodded, honestly.

Chi Zhihan’s face flushed.

“Because I really didn’t feel like you were a psychological patient, and I never thought your illness could actually harm you physically,” she said, feeling regretful. “It’s really awful, isn’t it? Using ignorance and curiosity as an excuse, hurting you and then saying I didn’t know any better.”

This was almost the most honest she had been since becoming his private chef.

It was also the reason she felt so upset now. Thinking about how absentminded she had been over the past eight days, how she had used ignorance as a shield, her heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand, sinking lower and lower.

She really had been bullying him, taking advantage of his gentleness and eagerness to please her.

When he had said so grievously that she was bullying him, she had even thought he was flirting with her…

She couldn’t even bring herself to say sorry.

What she had done was more than just negligence.

…

“Why did you come back?” Qi Cheng also maintained his lowered posture, looking at Chi Zhihan, who was almost lying on his bed.

Her personality sometimes left him at a loss for words.

Even though he could feel her guilt, the next second he saw her sprawled casually on his bed, completely ignoring his fear of being touched.

It was hard to explain, but he liked that she didn’t treat him like a patient.

Her friend had also asked why she came back, and her explanation at the time was the salary.

Qi Ning hadn’t given her a raise; she was still being paid the same as when she signed the one-year contract. He knew that very well.

Her value had doubled because of her work as a private chef for the Qi family, and the money she earned from her Weibo account could probably match her salary. She hadn’t come back for the money.

“Dr. Zhao said that if I participated, it could increase your recovery rate by four times,” Chi Zhihan’s first response.

Qi Cheng didn’t say anything.

His features were truly breathtaking. Even with his head lowered, they defied gravity.

His striking beauty made Chi Zhihan’s mouth go dry, and she swallowed hard.

“…I felt that during our time together – I mean the time we hadn’t met face to face,” Chi Zhihan instinctively added an explanation. In her mind, whether they had met or not was a milestone. Her absentmindedness and her belief that he wasn’t really sick had all started after they met. “You were always calling out for help.”

Qi Cheng’s eyes darkened.

Some emotions seemed on the verge of breaking through, making Chi Zhihan’s heart race inexplicably.

But he still didn’t respond.

“I wanted to be needed,” Chi Zhihan’s heart began to race after two unanswered questions. “When Dr. Zhao said it had to be me, I decided to come back.”

In this cold world, everyone seemed replaceable—except for family.

She hadn’t had family for a long time.

So the phrase “it has to be you” was incredibly alluring, almost irresistible.

After saying this, her face flushed inexplicably.

She had asked so many questions, said so much, all to make Qi Cheng understand that this time, she had truly been wrong.

She knew the trust between them hadn’t been easy to build, and she didn’t want her ignorance after meeting him to destroy it all.

That was her original intention.

So when she finished saying everything she needed to say, the man who had been lowering his head sighed, reached out with his pale hand, and gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

In that moment, she felt her heart stop.

Qi Cheng’s fingers were slightly cool, and as he did this, there were no symptoms—no trembling, no cold sweat.

His fingers lightly brushed her cheek, then tucked her stray hair behind her ear.

“All I wanted was for you to come back,” in that moment when her heart stopped, she heard Qi Cheng’s whisper, so soft it was almost like a dream.

Their eyes met.

She felt something in her heart, something very heavy, twist sharply, piercing to her core.