Chapter 75

Suddenly realizing that the next room had gone silent, Shang Mingbao also fell silent.

Hearing Xiang Feiran’s hot breath whispering “baby” in her ear, Shang Mingbao’s ears turned bright red, and she gently tried to pull away. “Stop, stop calling me that.”

To Xiang Feiran’s ears, this message, after going through many convolutions in his brain, somehow turned into “he no longer has the right to call her ‘baby.’” The already numbed heart received a final blow, almost making him collapse.

“And now…” He frowned, swallowing hard, “you won’t even let me call you ‘baby.’”

Shang Mingbao pushed him away, feeling flustered and embarrassed. “It’s not that, Grandpa and Aunt Lan…”

The international news channel was broadcasting about the Strait of Malacca, which Malaysia was preparing to close in response to tensions between the Arab world and Israel, with the serious English news report not being overshadowed by any chatter.

“Forget about them.”

“……”

Shang Mingbao thought he might be losing his grip on reality and decided to push him away to handle the situation. However, the moment she moved, Xiang Feiran pressed her back into the corner. “Don’t move…” His cool cheek was close to hers, and his vision seemed to blur a bit. “Don’t go, I don’t have the strength to stop you…”

Shang Mingbao was first confused, then horrified. “Xiang Feiran! You’re losing too much blood!”

This statement prompted not only Xiang Lianqiao to get out of bed, but even Aunt Lan, disregarding propriety and privacy, burst through the door in a rush. “Feiran—!”

In the small room, everything was visible at a glance. Upon seeing the bloody scene, Aunt Lan was so shocked she nearly fainted, her native dialect slipping out. “Oh my god!”

Uncle Zhao, a retired soldier, assessed the situation and acted decisively, quickly separating the two and taking control. He shouted sternly, “Don’t do anything foolish!”

Xiang Feiran: “……”

Shang Mingbao, forgetting to even scream, was left with nothing but the instinct to cover her face with her hands. Her bloodstained wrist, the blood-smeared T-shirt, and her tear-and-blood-streaked face created an indescribable impact. Xiang Lianqiao, anxious to understand the situation, could hardly do so. Aunt Lan, disregarding propriety, burst in, urgently calling, “Call a doctor!”

The nurse’s bell by the wall had been smashed by Uncle Zhao.

The nurse arrived within twenty seconds, took one look, and exclaimed, “Oh my god, who is hurt? Whose blood is this? You—?”

In the chaos, Shang Mingbao finally regained her ability to speak and stammered, “It’s him, it’s him…”

The nurse visibly took a step back, her expression and demeanor changing instantly. “He injured you with a weapon? Family, calm down and don’t provoke him further! Where is the weapon?”

In the tense standoff, there was suddenly a two-second blank. Xiang Feiran finally raised his left hand to show the wound, saying calmly, “The wound is here, and the ‘weapon’ is on the coffee table.”

Everyone turned to see a fruit peeler on the coffee table.

Everyone: “……”

Aunt Lan, while muttering thanks to the heavens, found her strength and urgently advised, “Feiran, don’t go to extremes. If you upset babe, just apologize properly. Don’t hurt yourself…”

Shang Mingbao, in despair, could only peek through her fingers—how did everyone find out?

Xiang Feiran shook his head, clearing his vision, and braced himself against the shelf under the TV. “I didn’t expect to bleed this much.”

The nurse was on the brink of rolling her eyes. “If you keep exerting yourself, of course it will bleed! And the wound isn’t light! Also, you—” turning to Shang Mingbao, “Clean your face and change your clothes. Otherwise, others will think this is a medical dispute!”

Xiang Feiran firmly held Shang Mingbao’s hand. “I’ll go with you.”

He was afraid she would leave.

The nurse shouted, “You go with me to get stitches!!!”

Then turning to the now-occupied Xiang Lianqiao, she said, “Old gentleman! Old leader! Get back in bed!”

Xiang Lianqiao waved his hand, sitting back on the bed while saying, “August 1990, the night before the evacuation from Kuwait.”

A pause, with everyone listening.

Xiang Lianqiao continued, “I wasn’t even this nervous.”

Everyone: “……”

Shang Mingbao, blushing and embarrassed, hurried to the bathroom, shocked by her reflection in the mirror.

What a murder scene!

Not just her face, but even her neck was smeared. The rusty, iron-like smell of blood lingered in her nose and mouth, making her think she had been too upset.

Now, Aunt Lan, Uncle Zhao, and Xiang Lianqiao had seen how Xiang Feiran treated her: caressing her face, pressing against her neck, holding her chin, patting her back, pinching her waist, and so on.

After washing her face for three or four minutes to remove the bloodstains, she came out to find Xiang Feiran, who was supposed to be getting stitches, sitting on the companion bed in the single room. His long legs propped up, his left hand covered with a thick wad of medical cotton, already soaked with blood.

“Why haven’t you gone for stitches?”

“Waiting for you.”

Shang Mingbao took off the cardigan wrapped around the canvas bag, putting it over her blood-stained T-shirt, and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Xiang Feiran seemed startled, his eyes not lifting. “Aren’t you in a hurry to go back to New York?”

“It’s not urgent,” Shang Mingbao learned to use noncommittal language.

Her noncommittal response sounded decisive to Xiang Feiran. He pressed his lips together, finding it hard to speak.

The heated exchange that had occurred in the cramped room had dissipated. With the window and door open, after a comical and chaotic confusion, the intense emotions between them—both restrained and uncontrollable—were now gone. He could only stand up, nod, and say, “Okay.”

As he walked to the door and was about to greet Xiang Lianqiao and the others, he staggered. He leaned against the doorframe, feeling dizzy and short of breath, steadied himself, and took another step—only to collapse on the floor with a loud thud.

This was not a mistake; it was real. After another bout of chaos, he was sent to the observation room for an IV drip, and everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The amount of blood loss was already significant. Though Xiang Feiran had downplayed the injury, it was deep and severe. Shang Mingbao felt cold all over as Aunt Lan pushed her out. After taking a few deep breaths outside, she returned to find the stitching nearly finished. There were maybe seven or eight stitches; she couldn’t count them and was covered with gauze by the doctor.

Aunt Lan kept murmuring, “Feiran, really, how did a fruit peeler cause all this? What if it had been a knife?”

Only Shang Mingbao knew that it was the wound left by Xiang Feiran when he saw her.

What if it had been a knife? If it had been a fruit knife… Shang Mingbao didn’t dare to think further.

The nurse slowed down the IV drip. “Don’t worry, though it looks scary, it’s not too much blood loss. He’s just exhausted, hasn’t been resting well recently, and is very weak, pushing himself too hard.”

Shang Mingbao was startled and asked, “Has Feiran been very busy lately?”

“Not particularly, but he goes to bed very late every day.”

He stayed late in the specimen room, though it was the same as before, Aunt Lan knew he hadn’t been starting new projects recently. He still smoked heavily, just like when he first arrived at sixteen.

Aunt Lan’s worried gaze shifted. “The old gentleman can’t be left alone. I’ll go there; you stay here with him? Oh, I forgot, aren’t you supposed to go back to New York?”

How did she know that too!

Shang Mingbao’s scalp tightened, and she awkwardly said, “No, it’s not urgent…”

Aunt Lan sighed deeply, held her hand, and patted it, saying only, “Take care.”

Shang Mingbao sat by the bedside for a while and received a text message from Wu Baiyan.

Alan: “Have you seen it?”

Babe: “Mm.”

Alan: “How is it?”

Shang Mingbao hesitated for a moment, about to respond, when she heard some noise nearby.

Xiang Feiran was awake.

It was too soon; she thought he would be asleep for a long time. Shang Mingbao frowned and asked, “Does your hand hurt?”

It’s not the hand that’s hurting, but a deep, persistent ache in his heart, continuously falling. There’s a voice echoing in his mind, and he desperately wants to understand it. When he finally does, he realizes the voice is saying “she’s gone.”

That’s why he woke up.

The IV drip swayed for a moment as Xiang Feiran lifted his hand, which should have been weak and limp, but firmly grasped hers.

With the IV in place, his hand was cold. Shang Mingbao shivered and heard Xiang Feiran, with his eyes closed, say, “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going.”

“Don’t reply to the messages.”

“…”

You can hear that too?

“Don’t pay attention to Wu Baiyan.”

“…”

Shang Mingbao’s lips moved several times, wanting to say something in annoyance, but finally only whispered, “Your wound is deep. Don’t exert yourself.”

“I know.”

But his grip did not loosen at all.

“Why not take care of it first and then talk? At least stop the bleeding.”

“I know which is more important.”

Shang Mingbao sighed in frustration, “You scared Grandpa to death.”

“And you?”

“…”

Xiang Feiran gave a small smile, his palm still pressed against hers, sharing the silence.

After a long while, Shang Mingbao said again, “The doctor said you don’t take care of yourself.”

This was a slight alteration from what the doctor actually said, which was that “luckily his health is good.”

Xiang Feiran was quite aware of his condition: “The foundation is still okay.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

The hand gripping hers tightened suddenly. He opened his eyes, looking at her clearly, “Give me a chance to make up for the lost time with you.”

—

To facilitate taking care of Xiang Lianqiao, Xiang Feiran booked a week’s stay at a hotel near the hospital. After the IV, he listened to the doctor’s advice on diet restrictions and wound care and was ordered by Xiang Lianqiao to go rest.

Shang Mingbao, head bowed, dared not look at the elderly man but was still called by name. Xiang Lianqiao asked, “What time is your flight back to New York? Let Feiran take you.”

Shang Mingbao waved her hands repeatedly, “No, no, I’ll just take a taxi.”

Xiang Lianqiao, kindly stepping back, said, “If you’re unhappy to be alone with him, let Uncle Zhao take you. This is Grandpa’s wish, to thank you for coming such a long way to see me. Xiao Zhao, remember the time.”

The graying “Xiao Zhao” asked, “Miss Mingbao, what time is your flight?”

Shang Mingbao was caught in his meticulous net, unable to back out, and had to say, “I haven’t bought the ticket yet…”

“Oh…” Xiang Lianqiao realized and nodded, repeating, “The ticket hasn’t been bought.”

Xiang Feiran could not stand it any longer. He cleared his throat and said coldly, “I’ll take Mingbao out for a meal.”

Xiang Lianqiao smiled and waved his hand, “Go ahead, go ahead.”

Once they left, Xiang Lianqiao finished the pear soup Aunt Lan had made for him and said, “I’m going to sit by the window to bask in the sun.”

Aunt Lan and Uncle Zhao helped him to the window. From the ninth floor, he looked down and saw a small outdoor parking lot with a black Mercedes parked in the second row. Xiang Lianqiao, excited, watched them leave the hospital, get into the car, and drive to the hospital’s main entrance.

A hundred years later, will there still be a pair of eyes left in this world? A peony in the palace, a fir on the mountain, having met and loved each other, isn’t it fine to walk a bit further into a new world?

A hundred years later, will there still be a pair of eyes left in this world?

Even though it had been professionally handled, the new car still smelled of leather.

Shang Mingbao got into the car, fastened her seatbelt, and heard Xiang Feiran ask, “Have you booked the hotel?”

“…No.”

“Then come to my place.”

Shang Mingbao responded, “I only stay in five-star hotels.”

“Five-star.”

“…”

The hotel was next to the hospital, so the view was not impressive, but it had a small flowing water feature. Xiang Feiran parked the car, took the elevator from the underground parking lot, swiped the card, and went straight to the twelfth floor, not giving Shang Mingbao a chance to check in at the front desk.

Shang Mingbao said, “I want a separate room.”

Xiang Feiran said seriously, “There are no more rooms, it’s fully booked.”

Shang Mingbao was suspicious, “You didn’t even ask.”

Xiang Feiran nodded, “And you don’t ask either.”

“…”

The room was in the middle of the corridor. After swiping the card to enter, Shang Mingbao was pushed into the entrance by Xiang Feiran. She tensed up, “Don’t use too much force!”

Respect your wound, okay?

Xiang Feiran’s face was pale, his already dark eyes looking even darker and colder. He stared at Shang Mingbao intently, “Are you leaving?”

A man with no opening line.

Shang Mingbao bit her lip, unable to say anything insincere to such a face.

Xiang Feiran gave her a full minute, or maybe just tens of seconds. After that, he lifted Shang Mingbao and threw her onto the bed.

The window was open, and the noise from the bustling city outside was loud. The midday sunlight was glaring through the white gauze curtains.

She didn’t not want to; in fact, she wanted it very much. But she felt extremely aggrieved, tears flowing nonstop, her nails scratching blood on Xiang Feiran’s back. It hurt, and Xiang Feiran frowned, groaning as he grabbed her hand and pulled it in front of him, while fiercely pushing her away and giving a half-laugh, “Let me think clearly, did you go get new nails?”

Shang Mingbao glared at him sulkily: “Change the mood with a new manicure.”

Xiang Feiran looked at her deeply: “So, am I just a mood you can change at will?”

Shang Mingbao opened her mouth to say yes, but was quickly silenced by his resistance, leaving only the warm breath escaping from her slightly parted lips.

She soon felt that Xiang Feiran was different today, not in terms of hardness or technique, but in his unusual persistence. Despite her several spasms, being thrown onto the waves, her pleas becoming hoarse and powerless, she could not get even a hint of gentleness.

Sometimes it was light, but deep… it didn’t make a difference, as it all made her lose moisture.

Amidst the intensity, she was still concerned about Xiang Feiran’s wound. She turned to look, only to see him adjusting her chin: “Look at me.”

“You… your wound is tearing…!” The words came out in gasps.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“…Of course, it doesn’t hurt because you’re on anesthesia!”

Xiang Feiran continuously kissed her palms and fingers, pressing her face against his: “Call me.”

“Feiran-ge.”

Xiang Feiran stared at her but did not respond.

Shang Mingbao read from his gaze what he wanted, her heart trembling, her eyes shifting from confusion to clarity and panic.

She was almost in shadow.

Avoiding it, she didn’t call him, and tried to change the subject: “‘Feiran-ge’ is your favorite…”

“Not anymore.”

Shang Mingbao’s eyelashes fluttered with his words, her nose stinging: “I… I can’t.”

She couldn’t. The last time she called him, the cost was so painfully etched. Anything that came with punishment must be wrong… must be wrong. She couldn’t call him again.

The light breath on her face visibly halted. After a while, Xiang Feiran lay down, burying his face in her neck: “It’s my fault… my dear.”

With his eyes closed, his voice hoarse and trembling, he said: “It’s my fault… I’m timid, weak, selfish. I love you and fear you. I want you but fear losing you. I… didn’t learn this lesson well.”

Shang Mingbao’s neck was damp. She couldn’t tell if the warmth was from his tears or sweat. In any case, it was all flowing for her… all flowing for her.