“The patient has survived the gunshot wound, but the bleeding caused by a severe blow to the head is quite serious, affecting his vision and memory,” explained the attending physician outside the ward.

Mo Xin asked, “How long until he recovers?”

“Well…” The doctor glanced at the young military officer’s face and, aware that the lives of his whole family were hanging by a thread, cautiously replied, “It depends on how the blood clot dissipates.”

Mo Xin fell silent for a moment before entering the ward again.

As soon as there was movement, the person lying on the bed with his eyes closed immediately opened his eyes.

The look he gave when he turned was enough to make Mo Xin doubt the doctor’s diagnosis.

But soon, the gaze Liang Qiuchi cast behind him made Mo Xin believe that the eyes that had once reflected stars and himself had truly lost their function.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Liang Qiuchi struggled to sit up, but his head spun, almost causing him to fall off the bed.

Mo Xin quickly stepped forward to support him. “Qiuchi, you need to rest now.”

Liang Qiuchi brushed off his hand, his tone weak but firm. “I need to understand the situation.”

“You were in a serious car accident, with a brain hemorrhage pressing on your optic nerve.” Mo Xin still didn’t fully believe the doctor’s diagnosis, but Liang Qiuchi’s confused and unfocused eyes kept reminding him to face the facts. “Qiuchi… do you really not remember anything?”

Liang Qiuchi didn’t answer, only asking again who Mo Xin was.

Mo Xin gave his name, hoping to see a trace of emotion on Liang Qiuchi’s face to prove that after all these years, he still held a special place in his heart.

But there was nothing.

When Liang Qiuchi heard his name, it was like encountering a stranger passing by on the street, completely indifferent.

Mo Xin lowered his eyes in silence for a moment, then patted Liang Qiuchi’s hand. “It’s okay, there’s plenty of time. You’ll remember me eventually. Rest for now.”

This time, Liang Qiuchi didn’t reject his assistance and lay back on the bed.

As Mo Xin leaned over to tuck him in, the closeness at that moment made Liang Qiuchi vaguely see his face through the thick fog.

It seemed familiar.

“What’s wrong?” Mo Xin asked. “Are you having a headache?”

Liang Qiuchi shook his head. “Thank you, I just want to be alone for a while.” He closed his stinging eyes, trying to clear the fog in his mind.

“Then I’ll come back later to keep you company.” Mo Xin tucked him in and left quietly, going to the kitchen to personally cook congee for Liang Qiuchi.

Vincent thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He had been with Mo Xin for so many years, but he never knew that this general, hailed as the “federal war machine,” could be so… domestic.

Watching him cook, it was more astonishing than watching him personally take on enemy armor with a rocket launcher.

“How does it taste?” Mo Xin ladled out a spoonful and handed it to Vincent.

Vincent was pleasantly surprised, straightened up, saluted properly, and cautiously took a sip. Before he could taste it, a string of praises burst out of his mouth.

Mo Xin gave him a cold glance, and Vincent immediately responded with an awkward yet respectful smile.

“Clean up the room.”

“Yes!” Vincent hurriedly ran upstairs.

This floor, apart from a small living room, tea room, and study, belonged entirely to Mo Xin’s bedroom. Considering Liang Qiuchi’s current physical condition, Vincent intentionally moved unnecessary soft furnishings, freeing up enough space for his daily activities.

But even so, for both Liang Qiuchi and Mo Xin, such solitary space still felt somewhat cramped.

Especially the 1.8-meter bed, which now seemed particularly narrow.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll be fine on my own tonight,” Liang Qiuchi gently reminded Mo Xin that he should leave, but Mo Xin insisted on staying.

“Your eyesight isn’t good. It won’t be convenient for you to go to the bathroom at night.”

“I don’t need to get up at night.”

“Your condition is unstable right now. What if you faint in the middle of the night?” Mo Xin looked at the large bed just within arm’s reach, gritted his teeth, and compromised, “If you mind sleeping together, I can sleep on the floor.”

Before Liang Qiuchi could respond, he pulled out a set of bedding from the wardrobe and laid it out on the floor in front of the bed, clearly refusing to leave no matter what.

Liang Qiuchi had no choice but to let him stay.

The room was warm, but by midnight, Liang Qiuchi’s mouth felt dry. As he tried to sit up to get some water, his hand inadvertently touched a cold wrist at the edge of the bedside table.

He instinctively grabbed it.

“It’s me.” Mo Xin patted his hand with the other, “You’re about to spill the water, let go.”

Liang Qiuchi frowned and released his hand. “Sorry.”

A person who was constantly on edge, even with amnesia, would still instinctively react defensively. Mo Xin understood and said, “It’s okay.”

Liang Qiuchi didn’t know what time it was now, but it had been a long time since he lay down. “Have you… not slept at all?”

“I only woke up when I heard you getting up,” Mo Xin lied without changing his expression. He handed the straw cup of water to Liang Qiuchi’s lips, his gaze burning as he watched those slightly dry lips. “Drink.”

Instead of drinking directly, Liang Qiuchi took the cup and held it in his hand.

The water was warm, much warmer than the wrist he had just grasped.

Suddenly, he felt a little sorry. “You’d better sleep on the bed. The floor is too cold.”

Mo Xin was stunned for a moment, then nodded, and with the bedding and pillow in his arms, he moved to lie down beside Liang Qiuchi.

At first, neither of them spoke. The room was unusually quiet, and the sound of each other’s breathing was clearly audible, with a subtle hint of awkwardness in the air.

Finally, it was Liang Qiuchi who broke the silence with the question that had been on his mind for a long time.

“You’ve been taking care of me these past few days. Why haven’t I seen anyone else?”

Mo Xin turned to look at him and asked, “If there’s anything I haven’t done well, tell me, and I’ll improve.”

“No,” Liang Qiuchi said in a teasing tone, afraid of him misunderstanding, “It’s just a bit strange. Was I unpopular before? Even when something happened, I didn’t see any other family or friends.”

Mo Xin looked at him quietly for a few seconds and whispered, “You don’t have any other family or friends. You only have me.”

Liang Qiuchi was taken aback, the smile he had just conjured up freezing on his face.

Mo Xin held his hand and comforted him, “Don’t be sad. I won’t leave you. We’ll always be together.”

Liang Qiuchi felt that this sounded a bit too intimate and strange, but he didn’t feel like thinking about it in detail. Out of politeness, he just nodded and responded, “Thank you. Fortunately, I still have you as a friend.”

Mo Xin felt a bit lost with this positioning, but the thought of being able to share a bed with Liang Qiuchi comforted him.

He could take his time, and wait patiently.

Thanks to his strong physical condition, Liang Qiuchi’s recovery speed was quite optimistic, not even a full week, the bandage on his chest could be removed.

As he was about to remove the bandage, Mo Xin was reluctantly dragged by his elder brother to attend a social gathering. When he received a call from Vincent, he immediately put down his glass and hurried back.

At that time, Liang Qiuchi had already managed to find the bathroom door himself.

Mo Xin took off his snow-covered coat and hurried over to support him. “Why didn’t you wait for me to come back?”

“It’s just a small matter. I can handle it myself,” Liang Qiuchi said.

“What if you fell?” Mo Xin turned on the bathroom light and heater, bending down to help Liang Qiuchi put on non-slip slippers.

Liang Qiuchi smiled. “Isn’t there still Vincent? I can ask him for help.”

“No.” Mo Xin said firmly, without explaining why Vincent couldn’t help.

Liang Qiuchi stood under the shower, blocking Mo Xin’s attempt to help him remove his nightshirt. “I can manage on my own, thank you.”

“The wound shouldn’t get wet. Let me help you,” Mo Xin stared straight at the man’s collar.

“It’s okay. The doctor put waterproof tape on it.” Liang Qiuchi looked at him sideways. Although his eyes were dim and his expression gentle, the commanding presence he had from his high position made it impossible to ignore his refusal in his words.

Mo Xin had no choice but to compromise. “Alright, if you need anything, call me. I’ll leave the bathroom door slightly open.”

Liang Qiuchi nodded and listened to Mo Xin’s footsteps fading away until there was a faint sound of the door closing. Then he reached out to unbutton his nightshirt.

Halfway through unbuttoning, he glanced towards the door.

Assured that there was no movement, he then took off his shirt, pants, and underwear.

Meanwhile, Mo Xin, who should have left, quietly leaned against the door, holding his breath, and stared motionlessly at him.

Gradually, his neck, cheeks, and ears turned red.

In the end, even his eyes turned red.

Not for anything else, but because there was a simple and conspicuous tattoo on Liang Qiuchi’s left chest, near his heart, bearing his name — Xin.

“I’m sorry, Qiuchi, I lied to you.”

When Liang Qiuchi finished showering and came out, he heard Mo Xin’s sudden apology.

Before he could ask further, he heard Mo Xin drop another bombshell: “Actually, you’re my boyfriend.”