“I…”

This question was way too direct. Shen Yuchen might as well have asked him if he liked him.

Among his friends, there weren’t many to begin with, and the only one he kept in regular contact with was Shen Yuchen.

“If you don’t want to answer, forget it.” Shen Yuchen chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his hair twice before casually returning to his bed to handle his own affairs.

Was that it?

Or had Shen Yuchen already gotten the answer he wanted?

Since Shen Yuchen didn’t bring it up again, Yu Yan wasn’t about to mention it either. Otherwise, it would seem like he was being too forward.

And so, the topic was left unresolved. Neither of them brought it up again. Yu Yan continued to take care of Shen Yuchen in the hospital. Though “taking care” was a bit of a stretch—there wasn’t much he needed to do.

Most of the time, Jiang Mo and Zhang Shujun took turns bringing meals, and only on rare occasions did he have to go buy food himself.

Just like that, more than ten days passed. Yu Yan stayed at the hospital with Shen Yuchen for over ten days. During that time, Yu Chen occasionally stopped by to check on them.

Before Shen Yuchen could be discharged, Yu Yan ended up falling ill first.

Shen Yuchen handed him a glass of water. “I’ve never seen anyone catch a cold in August.”

“Well, now you have,” Yu Yan said, chuckling awkwardly.

The hospital room was heavily air-conditioned, and his bed was positioned directly under the air vent. Add to that the constant consumption of iced drinks and slushies, and it wasn’t surprising that he caught a cold.

“Do you think this medicine will work?” Shen Yuchen looked skeptically at the box of cold medicine. He had initially planned to ask a doctor to prescribe something for Yu Yan, but Yu Yan refused.

Yu Yan sniffled, his voice muffled by the mask.

“Whether it works or not, it’s all the same. A cold will go away in five or six days, medicine or not.”

Shen Yuchen ignored him, turned off the air conditioning with a stern expression, and handed him the prepared cold medicine.

“Hey, it’s forty degrees outside. Don’t turn it off,” Yu Yan quickly protested.

Ding— Yu Yan watched helplessly as the air conditioner was switched off, and the room’s temperature began to rise.

“Bro, are you trying to kill me?” Yu Yan sighed dramatically.

Shen Yuchen gave him a sideways glance. “Wait a bit before turning it back on. You’re right under the vent, and it’s making your head worse.”

A lightbulb went off in Yu Yan’s mind. “How about I move to your bed?”

Ever since Yu Chen had someone bring in this bed, Yu Yan hadn’t gone to Shen Yuchen’s bed once. It had been days, and no one mentioned it.

The moment the words left his mouth, Yu Yan retracted them himself. Pulling his mask up, he muttered, “Forget it, I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“You won’t,” Shen Yuchen said, turning the air conditioner back on. “Come over.”

“No.” Yu Yan was firm in his refusal.

“Are you sure?” Shen Yuchen raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll turn the air conditioner off.”

Yu Yan: “…”

“Fine. I’ll move the bed against the wall and push the sofa to the center. That’ll avoid the air vent.”

Determined, Yu Yan dragged his sickly body to move the bed and the sofa, but his hands and feet were too weak. No matter how hard he tried, the sofa didn’t budge an inch.

Shen Yuchen couldn’t stand watching anymore. He called in one of the hospital security guards to help move the bed and sofa.

The security guard was a professional. Dressed in a sleeveless undershirt, his muscular arms bulged as though he could take on ten men at once.

With just a slight lift of his arm, the sofa was moved into place. The whole process took less than ten minutes.

“Big bro, how long have you been working out?” Yu Yan asked curiously. His own brother trained every day but wasn’t anywhere near this level.

The guard waved it off. “Twenty years or so. I started when I joined the military and haven’t stopped since.”

“And how long do you think it’d take for me to get to your level?”

“You?” The guard glanced at Yu Yan’s pale, delicate arms and paused tactically. “Eat more, jog a little, and just focus on staying healthy.”

Yu Yan: “…”

It seemed like nothing was said, yet somehow something was conveyed.

He had no intention of training to that extent—after all, working out was too exhausting. He just thought about exercising a little to strengthen his body so he wouldn’t catch a cold during the hottest days of August again.

The security guard left, satisfied with the basket of fruit given to him by Yu Yan.

Lying on the bed, Yu Yan basked in the sunlight while enjoying the air conditioning. It was a moment of pure comfort.

When he turned his head, he saw Shen Yuchen holding clothes, seemingly ready to take a shower.

“Brother, it’s only past seven. Why are you showering so early?” Yu Yan glanced at the time.

“Mm,” Shen Yuchen replied curtly, unwilling to elaborate.

The cast had already been removed and replaced with a splint. Shen Yuchen could now shower on his own without issues, so Yu Yan didn’t pay much attention.

Compared to others, Shen Yuchen’s recovery was remarkable. Typically, a fracture requires a month before removing the cast, but Shen Yuchen had it removed in under ten days.

After his shower, Shen Yuchen didn’t change into pajamas but wore a bathrobe instead. The robe’s sash was casually tied in a loose knot, ready to come undone with any large movement.

His Adam’s apple and collarbones were exposed, his chest muscles occasionally visible, with a few droplets of water still clinging to his skin. The smooth muscle contours stretched the thin silk bathrobe, making him look both attractive and seductive.

The bathrobe suited him so well. Yu Yan didn’t understand why Shen Yuchen preferred wearing those collared pajamas with all the buttons done up, looking like some old-fashioned bureaucrat.

“Brother, are you going to dry your hair?” Yu Yan eagerly handed him the hairdryer.

Shen Yuchen shook his head. “No need.”

“Why not? Do you want me to dry it for you?”

“You’re really something.” Yu Yan put his mask back on, picked up the hairdryer, and approached him. “But you have to sit down first.”

Yu Yan was just two centimeters shy of 1.8 meters, while Shen Yuchen was almost 1.9 meters tall. The height difference of over ten centimeters left Yu Yan no choice.

“You…” Shen Yuchen paused, unsure how to continue.

“Sit down first.” Yu Yan firmly pulled him into a chair, adjusted the hairdryer to cool air, and clumsily began drying Shen Yuchen’s hair.

Although Yu Yan’s technique was unpolished, his movements were gentle, his fingertips brushing lightly against Shen Yuchen’s scalp, sending tingling sensations down his spine. Shen Yuchen felt like his head was about to explode.

The scene couldn’t help but feel warm and intimate, like a couple chatting on the bed after washing up, helping each other dry their hair.

This was the sense of home Shen Yuchen had always envisioned.

“Alright, are you satisfied?”

Yu Yan casually opened the front camera on his phone and snapped a picture just as Shen Yuchen raised his head.

In the photo, Yu Yan’s body leaned slightly forward, his chin lightly resting on Shen Yuchen’s right shoulder, smiling brightly. Shen Yuchen, meanwhile, had no particular expression, but his eyes curved slightly more than usual, revealing a hint of joy.

Yu Yan grinned mischievously. “I’m going to name this photo: ‘Master Yu Yan and His Masterpiece.’”

Shen Yuchen couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Since it’s a masterpiece, how could I not be satisfied?”

“As long as you’re satisfied, make sure to leave me a five-star review!”

“Alright.” Shen Yuchen took the hairdryer. “Do you want to wash your hair?”

Yu Yan raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to make me your masterpiece?”

“Do you think I’d have the chance?”

“Next time, for sure. I don’t feel like moving when I’m sick.”

After a bit of teasing, Yu Yan returned to his sickly demeanor.

Shen Yuchen didn’t press further. After packing up the hairdryer, he noticed Yu Yan staring at him without blinking. “What’s wrong?”

“Your fingers are really beautiful.”

Shen Yuchen’s fingers were long and well-defined, with distinct joints. The veins on his forearms were faintly visible, resembling the delicate framework of an inverted fan.

Moving upward from his wrist were strong and muscular forearms, with smooth and natural muscle lines—not overly exaggerated like the security guard’s, but far more pleasing to the eye.

Shen Yuchen seemed to enjoy working out. He had a treadmill and dumbbells at home, and there was also a gym in his residential complex.

To achieve this physique likely required a significant amount of time and effort. Although Yu Yan admired it, he preferred to take it easy—just a little light exercise to strengthen his body was enough; he had no desire to develop such defined muscles.

The sudden compliment caught Shen Yuming off guard. “Why bring that up all of a sudden?”

“It’s not that sudden. I noticed it a long time ago.”

The projector Yu Chen had sent over was finally being put to good use. Currently, it was playing He Zhiyu’s ill-fated TV drama, Tales of Immortal Cultivation.

Due to the Wen Xia scandal, the drama’s release had been delayed. The production team had gone to great lengths to cut Wen Xia’s scenes, and where it wasn’t possible, they hired a new actor for reshoots.

After two months of editing and re-filming, the drama finally aired, and the response from viewers was positive. Even during the crowded summer season, it managed to stand out among other TV shows.

After watching a few episodes, Yu Yan skillfully opened the chat with a ghostwriter on WeChat, transferred 1,000 yuan, and received a prompt reply: “1.”

Within half an hour, a heartfelt, sincere, and eloquent 2,000-word review was sent over.

Without even glancing at it, Yu Yan directly posted it in the group chat.

[He Zhiyu: Little Yan did well—currently ranked second.]

Second? Who was outperforming him?

It turned out to be Chen Qingyu. In that case, it didn’t matter—after all, he was He Zhiyu’s protégé.

After responding to the message, Yu Yan grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom to shower.

Due to his cold, he felt weak and unsteady, his steps light and sluggish. The moment he touched the cold water, he sneezed twice.

From outside, Shen Yuming knocked on the door. “Don’t shower with cold water.”

“I know, I know,” Yu Yan replied dismissively.

But without air conditioning in the bathroom, taking a hot shower felt like stepping into a sauna.

After finishing his shower, Yu Yan was about to leave when his foot slipped, and he fell straight toward the couch. In the next moment, someone grabbed his arm, sparing him from a disaster.

Shen Yuming touched his cold hands. “Did you use cold water?”

“Is your hand better now?” Yu Yan stared at Shen Yuming’s arm, still in a splint, for a moment.

Shen Yuming remained calm. “Almost.”

“You…”

Yu Yan suddenly realized something was off—extremely off.

Typically, a fracture takes over a month to heal enough to remove the cast, and even after that, there’s a recovery period. But Shen Yuming had removed his cast in under ten days, and judging by the strength he had just exerted, his arm was fully functional—nothing like someone recovering from a fracture.

Who heals a broken bone in just ten days?

Yu Yan frowned. “What’s going on with your arm?”

“Take some cold medicine. Don’t let your cold worsen,” Shen Yuming said as he moved to fetch water.

Yu Yan grabbed him firmly. “You didn’t actually break your arm, did you? You lied to me?”