Chapter 110

Shang Mingbao had the appearance of a complete breakdown.

She didn’t wail, but she sobbed uncontrollably in Xiang Feiran’s embrace, gasping for air. Passersby looked over, but Xiang Feiran’s arms shielded her face completely, just like that stolen kiss on the Upper East Side street years ago.

It was unclear how long this cathartic crying lasted until a faint sigh fell in her ear: “I can’t hold on any longer…”

Xiang Feiran seemed to be negotiating with her: “Wait for me to rest for a while, okay?”

He had come out of the hospital without any proper recovery and had reached his limit; his body was drenched in cold sweat beneath his hoodie.

Shang Mingbao snapped out of it immediately, unable to wipe away her tears, her hands exploring his body to check for injuries: “Where are you hurt? Where does it hurt?”

It seemed she only then realized he was sitting in a wheelchair, her face contorted in shock, her voice trembling: “What happened to your legs?”

Fang Suining hurried to explain: “It’s nothing, nothing serious. I just need to do some rehabilitation after lying down for too long.”

Shang Mingbao was not reassured at all, feeling that they were conspiring to deceive her: “Really? You’re not lying to me?”

Suining, with a history of deception, coughed awkwardly, his voice lacking confidence, making the truth seem false. Shang Mingbao’s face turned pale, and Xiang Feiran gently pinched her fingertips: “Really, I’m not lying.”

“You look so tired.” Her warm palm pressed against him, and Shang Mingbao shivered from the coldness of his cheek, “Let’s go back to the hospital, hurry back.”

She felt more insecure than anyone else.

Xiang Feiran nodded very slightly, almost imperceptibly, exhausted to the point of only managing a faint “mm.”

The caregiver was waiting at the nearest service desk, and after receiving a call, went downstairs to bring the car to the elevator. When assisting Xiang Feiran into the car, the caregiver could clearly feel his weakness, but he kept his lips pressed together, making no sound of pain or heaviness, his face showing a strained calm.

Within minutes of getting into the car, Xiang Feiran fell into a deep sleep. Shang Mingbao held his hand the entire time, afraid to grip too tightly and wake him, but also afraid to let go and lose him.

The nine-kilometer journey was silent.

At the hospital, there were more rounds of checks and infusions. Xiang Feiran lay quietly half-reclining, accepting all the doctor’s criticisms and instructions without saying a word of dissent.

The caregiver came in to feed him some bland, liquid food. Xiang Feiran extended his hand, indicating he wanted to do it himself.

The caregiver was surprised, not understanding why he suddenly cared about appearances. After an exchange of glances, the caregiver understood and handed over the bowl and spoon: “Take your time.”

Xiang Feiran moved slowly, but his wrist ached uncontrollably. When it looked like he was about to spill food on himself, Shang Mingbao quickly and naturally helped him: “I’ll do it.”

She took over smoothly, checking the temperature herself before feeding him with a porcelain spoon. He couldn’t eat much, feeling full after a few bites. Shang Mingbao then took out the medication from the foil and handed it to him with a glass of water: “You do this yourself.”

Xiang Feiran took the glass and swallowed the various medications.

“Good job,” Shang Mingbao said, sounding like she was praising a child.

Xiang Feiran smiled, lifting his hand to slowly rub his thumb across her face.

Since returning to the ward, he hadn’t spoken a word, too tired to use up any more energy, wanting to stay awake just to see her a few more times. But he was only human, and after the bed was adjusted, his eyelids were too heavy to keep open, falling asleep in the warmth of Shang Mingbao’s palm.

After a long time, Shang Mingbao finally moved her hand from his eyes to gently stroke his face, bending down to press her lips softly against his.

The infusion was cold, and when she tucked his hand back under the covers, she noticed a bruise on his arm.

Leaving the room, she saw Fang Suining waiting in the corridor. Their eyes met, and soon both their eyes were red. Shang Mingbao could no longer hold back, squatting down and stifling her sobs.

Fang Suining embraced her, choked with emotion, comforting her: “The worst is over now. Every step from here is upwards and better. Let’s just call it tears of joy.”

They sat in the hospital café, talking through the events of the past six months.

“You know how terrifying it was when he fell off the bed?” Fang Suining said, both crying and laughing. “The noise was like a haunted house. I was astonished. I asked him, and he said he kept walking in his mind, but his body couldn’t keep up.”

“Was the injury on his hand caused yesterday?”

“Yes, from the IV needle.”

“That sounds painful.”

“Compared to the pain when he was first rescued—” Fang Suining suddenly stopped talking.

Shang Mingbao looked out the window, her eyes wide open and not daring to blink, waiting for the pang of sorrow to pass.

“Everyone thinks this is a miracle. Lumbini is the most important Buddhist sacred site in Nepal. The monk who saved him by the river is still lighting lamps and praying for him. I contacted him last night. His English isn’t good, and he kept saying ‘Buddha Buddha.’ He sounded very emotional.”

Fang Suining held her coffee cup and said, “Although keeping this decision from you was my uncle’s suggestion, it was my choice. I’m sorry. I think rainy days are the hardest to endure. If Brother Feiran really remains unconscious, you could start a new life without any burdens. You’d be the only survivor in this story.”

Shang Mingbao pressed her hands to her eyes, a long sigh trembling through her: “Suining, you’re too cruel.”

“I know.”

“You’re also cruel to yourself. These burdens and pressures will crush you. You’re different from your uncle and mother. You’re the only one who knows the full story. If he really remains unconscious, will you carry this burden alone for the rest of your life? Will your rainy days ever end?”

The warm sunlight shone down, but Fang Suining shivered.

Her mouth drooped severely, a fragile vulnerability piercing through her. She felt exhausted yet warm, wanting to hold Shang Mingbao and cry.

After regaining her composure, Shang Mingbao informed all the family and close ones about Feiran’s survival and awakening. The phone calls came in one after another, with people asking if they could visit the hospital.

Shang Mingbao declined them all: “He is still very weak and needs to rest.”

Wen Youyi paced around the room, sitting and standing up repeatedly: “Okay, okay, I understand. What can Mommy do?”

Shang Mingbao, both crying and laughing, said, “There’s nothing to do. When Brother Feiran recovers, I’ll bring him back to see you all. As for Dad…”

“Dad has no objections,” Wen Youyi interrupted firmly, cutting off Shang Mingbao before she could speak.

Shang Mingbao: “…”

After hanging up the phone, Wen Youyi glared at Shang Yuye: “What do you want to say?”

Shang Yuye crossed his arms and furrowed his brow: “I said,” pointing a finger up, “if you’re going to blame someone, blame the one above. How did I become the sinner?”

“I don’t care,” Wen Youyi ordered him, “when people come to visit, you need to smile.”

Shang Yuye looked incredulous, raising an eyebrow: “Are you sure?”

He pulled up one side of his lip: “Like this?”

Wen Youyi knew he felt wronged and knelt to hug him: “I know you’ve been wronged this past six months, but they’ve had a hard time, and so has our daughter. If you say one more word against it, you’ll truly leave them with no way out.”

Since Xiang Feiran’s accident, Shang Mingbao had become much more subdued. Although she still appeared sweet and fulfilled daily, a sense of gloom lingered. The person who used to hate leaving home had rarely returned to Deepwater Bay in the past six months. She didn’t blame anyone but herself, but in the quiet of the night, reflecting on the series of past events, she felt that everyone had unintentionally pushed her into the vortex of fate. Seeing Shang Yuye, she could no longer leap toward him like a little bird.

Shang Yuye, though confident in his previous decisions, felt frustrated by fate’s trickery, making him feel like an outsider with grievances he couldn’t voice.

This was probably a boomerang that every domineering parent would eventually face—if you’re going to interfere, you need to be prepared to take responsibility. Otherwise, how could you be content with controlling everything and then say “who knew it would turn out this way” when fate intervenes?

Shang Yuye composed himself and after a while said, “Don’t think of me as the bad guy, Youyi.”

–

During the half-month Xiang Feiran was resting in the hospital, Shang Mingbao secretly had the villa tidied up. She entrusted this task to Sophie, who was wholeheartedly accompanying her in the hospital.

For the first two days, Feiran’s waking hours were much shorter than his sleeping ones. When he was awake, there were few things he could do. Reading a few pages of papers was the limit of his energy before the alarm was set.

When the documents were taken away on time, he smiled slightly, thinking of something.

“What are you laughing at?” Shang Mingbao asked suspiciously.

“I’m laughing at my retribution. I used to manage my grandfather like this, and now you manage me the same way. He always said that reading a few more pages wouldn’t hurt, and now I want to say, reading a few more pages—”

Before he could finish, Shang Mingbao covered his mouth with her hand, glaring at him, pouting stubbornly.

Xiang Feiran took her hand and kissed her fingertips: “I won’t say it anymore.”

Shang Mingbao puffed out her cheeks: “You’d rather read papers than look at me.”

“Not at all,” Xiang Feiran said, his gaze fixed on her face. “You’re too radiant, it’s easy to strain the eyes.”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

What nonsense, yet it sounds somewhat flattering… She cleared her throat, trying to sound nonchalant, and tapped his temple with her fingertip: “Has anyone been tampering with this area?”

Xiang Feiran caught her fingertip and said seriously, “That’s a possibility.”

Shang Mingbao, worried for his brilliant mind, asked, “Is reading the papers more difficult now? Can you not understand them?”

“That’s unlikely.”

Shang Mingbao stared intently, her eyes not losing their anxious focus.

Xiang Feiran thought for a moment and said, “It seems like you’re talking more than before.”

Shang Mingbao was confused. “No, I haven’t.”

He still maintained his reserved demeanor.

“It’s all in your head,” Xiang Feiran said thoughtfully. “Maybe your mouth and vocal cords need rehabilitation too.”

Just as he finished speaking, his lips were covered by another pair of soft lips.

“…”

Shang Mingbao’s whole body turned red instantly. She didn’t know that her flushed face also made Xiang Feiran’s pale skin flush with warmth.

“What’s going on?” After Shang Mingbao’s lips slightly parted, he asked seriously, looking down.

“Does this count as rehabilitation?” Shang Mingbao asked earnestly.

Xiang Feiran’s seriousness was affected, but she was genuine. The one pretending was good at it, while the serious one’s face turned red, betraying their emotions in the sunlight.

Xiang Feiran lifted her ear and said, “Let’s try?”

He had wanted to kiss her for a long time, after all, it was a fitting conclusion to a love story, like that nonsensical romance novel about a botanist he read on the plane. Though he had been expressionless when he flipped to the end, he had to admit it was the first thing he wanted to do when he woke up.

He had refrained from kissing her, thinking that he wasn’t proficient even in speaking, and worried that he might not kiss her well—

The first kiss after two years apart, he wanted to make it perfect.

Shang Mingbao leaned in, their lips almost touching, her heartbeat making her dizzy. Xiang Feiran slightly turned his face, not closing his eyes, holding her hot earlobe, and sealed the kiss.

It was a quiet and slow kiss, the sensation between their lips amplified infinitely, as strange as if it were from another world. For someone not used to talking, kissing felt awkward and restrained, like a high school student adhering to school rules.

Originally, he thought he would stop if he performed poorly, but now, even though he knew his kiss wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t bear to stop.

He couldn’t pull away, closing his eyes, his hand gripping Shang Mingbao’s waist tightly.

Shang Mingbao was the first to stop. Her breath was more intense than the kiss, her face flushed, and she asked seriously, “Is this all for rehabilitation?” Her fingertip pointed at his lips, puffing out one side of her face. “Pronunciation mainly relies on the tongue.”

Xiang Feiran was silent for a few breaths, gazing at her for a moment, and then removed her troublesome fingers before kissing her again. This time, he was less polite, and as their tongues met and intertwined, both felt a sudden jolt in their bones.

Shang Mingbao was utterly soft, only supported by her hands resting on his side. As they kissed, she ended up leaning into his embrace, her weight resting on him, one hand caressing his neck and jawline, the other gripping his pale blue hospital gown.

After about ten seconds, he heard a voice say, “…Rest, I can’t kiss anymore.”

Shang Mingbao lowered her face, resting her forehead on his shoulder, laughing quietly to herself.

Xiang Feiran continued to gently rub her earlobe. “What are you laughing at?”

Shang Mingbao shook her head, thinking to herself, “Laughing because you’re cute.”

Through his chest, she clearly felt his intense heartbeat and couldn’t help but ask, “Is it okay to kiss now? What if kissing isn’t good for your recovery?”

“…”

Good question.

Shang Mingbao lifted her face, serious. “Is there a possibility of that?”

She truly didn’t want to let Xiang Feiran take any risks.

Xiang Feiran said softly, “…Ask the doctor?”

The doctor’s thermos bottle shook.

Having practiced medicine for thirty years and seen many cases, he coughed and seriously twisted the lid of the thermos, saying, “This… depends on the patient’s condition. All his indicators look fine at the moment, but…” He changed the subject, “Intense exercise is not allowed, such as aerobics, running, weightlifting, swimming… Ha.”

Shang Mingbao left his office feeling puzzled, wondering who starts running and lifting weights just days after waking up from a coma. Is there an addiction to fitness?

In the following half month, Xiang Feiran’s waking hours increased daily. Besides being able to read an entire article, he could also focus on a three-minute kiss.

Initially, Shang Mingbao slept in the inner room while Xiang Feiran slept in the outer hospital bed, which was relatively orderly. The situation changed about a week later when Xiang Feiran called her.

Separated by a door and wall, Shang Mingbao quickly got up and asked softly, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

That was alarming. She hurriedly put on her slippers, opened the door, knelt by his bed, and turned on a gentle night light. “What’s uncomfortable?”

Xiang Feiran touched her face, his eyes slightly squinted, looking as if he had just come out of a nightmare. “I miss you a lot. Are you real?”

Shang Mingbao suddenly fell silent.

“I often wonder if I haven’t really woken up and am still lying here unmoving. You haven’t come to see me, and I haven’t gone to see you. Everything might just be my delusion, my helpless fantasy, my wishful thinking.”

Shang Mingbao’s heart tightened as she held his hand tighter against her face. “I’m real, Feiran. I’m real… everything is real.”

“Those living in delusion can’t distinguish between delusion and reality,” Xiang Feiran sighed deeply, with a barely noticeable tremor, his face calm. “If I could live like this forever, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

In a deep kiss filled with insecurity, Shang Mingbao climbed onto the bed and embraced Xiang Feiran as tightly as she could.

That night, she carefully settled herself into Xiang Feiran’s embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and arm, filling his sleep with her warmth, driving away the cold from the Napodi River and the rain.

Xiang Feiran woke up once in the middle of the night. He looked at the body curled up in his arms, like a little deer he had seen under the strange bushes.

The curve of his fingers traced from her earlobe to the corner of her lips. Seeing the small mole behind her earlobe, he felt inexplicably at ease, thinking that if someone with a damaged mind were to create a fake world for him, they wouldn’t be able to capture such details.

At that moment, he was no longer anxious or unsure. He murmured softly in her ear, “Shang Mingbao.”

Shang Mingbao, still groggy, mumbled a “Hmm.”

“Who gave you permission to sleep here?”

Shang Mingbao opened her eyes in a daze, confused by his question.

“Do you miss me that much?”

He asked without concern, but why was he rubbing her lips?

After waking up a bit, Shang Mingbao slowly inched toward the edge of the blanket, saying, “Yes, I miss you, but if you’re fine, I’ll leave now…”

Xiang Feiran held her back, his sudden movement making him dizzy.

Once he recovered, he reopened his eyes, turned slightly, and pressed her back down.

In the dim light, his gaze was calm and sharp: “Don’t go.”

“…” Shang Mingbao bit her lip, feeling her body shrink under his intense gaze.

“What are you doing…” she asked softly, her voice nasal from sleepiness.

What was he doing? At the moment, he wasn’t in the mood to do anything, and even if he wanted to, his current state seemed incapable.

A faint cough came from the darkness. Xiang Feiran maintained a calm demeanor: “I just want to hold you.”

Shang Mingbao pressed closer to him, her hands resting on his chest, closing her eyes and feeling their body temperatures rise. The initial feelings of anxiety and sadness disappeared; they were now like two people lying on the same bed for the first time, their heated breaths intertwining, both silent.

“Feiran Gege…” After a while, Shang Mingbao spoke softly.

The narrow hospital bed was uncomfortable, making her face red and her body still.

–

The pleasant weather continued until the day of her discharge.

Relatives who knew about the situation had come, and a small and warm ritual was held to mark the end of her illness.

Xiang Qiucheng whispered to Fang Suining: “You need to start dating. Feiran is much better than when he first woke up.”

Fang Suining glanced at her mother: “What about me?”

She had just planned to settle back in the country, the offer from the theater troupe wasn’t secured yet, and the performance agent hadn’t been chosen. Yet, Xiang Qiucheng urged her to find a partner as if her two unsatisfactory marriages had never happened.

“You now have a successful example,” Xiang Qiucheng said, tapping her shoulder. “Take the time to learn from your cousin.”

The world was too magical. Her single cousin had become her model for relationships. Fang Suining grumbled internally but dared not argue with Xiang Qiucheng.

Before his health fully recovered, Xiang Feiran didn’t dare to see Xiang Lianqiao. He decided to stay in the villa until his rehabilitation was successful. Xiang Weishan hired a driver, housekeeper, and caregiver for him, handling daily chores and transportation to the hospital.

When they arrived at the villa, as if knowing that Xiang Feiran would dislike noise, everything that needed to be gone had disappeared, leaving only Shang Mingbao.

Shang Mingbao pretended it was her first visit and asked if she could bring some of her belongings to make it easier to stay and take care of him.

To her surprise, Xiang Feiran said, “It’s too far from your place. Don’t come too often; it’s too much trouble.”

Shang Mingbao crouched by his wheelchair: “If I don’t come, who will keep you company, have meals with you, chat, assist with rehabilitation, print papers, and bring you tea?”

Xiang Feiran pinched her fingertips: “The caregiver can do that. Be obedient.”

“The things I do, the caregiver and housekeeper can also do, but being with you and doing them is different from what they do.”

The same tasks, the mundane tasks, are so different when done by a loved one compared to a hired worker. If these small details could be easily replaced by workers, how could they possibly have the power to wear away a stone?

The night breeze on West 56th Street in New York once stirred their hair in the sunlight.

Under the black hair, Xiang Feiran’s gaze never wavered. When Shang Mingbao stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck, he hugged her back firmly with both hands.

“Then how often would you like to come in a week?” he kissed her ear, his body filled with hardship and pain.

“I want to stay here twenty-four hours a day, beside you,” Shang Mingbao said clearly and firmly.

The door opened, revealing that the long-abandoned villa had been transformed into a new world. The flower mirrors were new, repaired and relocated based on the original design. Inside, all the furniture was spotless, fruits were on trays, flowers in pottery, and the wind fluttered the moon-white curtains, as if the place had always been a home for two.

“Suining brought me here before.” Shang Mingbao pulled her hand from her pocket, palm down, and showed him a purple embroidered amulet hanging from the silk thread around her knuckles. “The amulet you gave me. I saw the clothes you promised to pack away.”

She was touched, but Xiang Feiran was relieved:

At least, she hadn’t seen the pink diamond ring.

Everything he had prepared was still valid.