Chapter 18: Sleeping in the Same Bed

The curtains in the bedroom were a cool champagne color, and were tightly drawn.

The large bed in the center was covered with gray jacquard velvet fabric. Xiao Chi settled the man into the bed and adjusted the blanket for him.

Ji Chenxuan lay enveloped in softness, his eyes half-closed. The light from the ceiling lamp blurred at the edges of his vision. Xiao Chi’s figure moved back and forth, sometimes pouring water, sometimes rummaging through the medicine box.

He should close his eyes immediately, allowing his overly fatigued body to repair itself, but his eyelids refused to cooperate, struggling to stay open. His gaze involuntarily followed Xiao Chi’s movements, his pupils glazed over with a misty, unhealthy sheen.

“Stop fussing…” he tried to speak, only to realize his throat was dry and painful, nearly burning.

Xiao Chi helped him sit up and fed him a sip of warm water, then casually inserted a thermometer into his mouth. “Hold it there.”

Ji Chenxuan had no choice but to close his mouth, glaring at him with his eyes, silently.

Xiao Chi squatted down beside the bed, resting his cheek on one hand, his dark eyes staring at Ji Chenxuan intently under his tousled bangs.

They locked eyes for only three seconds, but Ji Chenxuan immediately looked away, quickly redirecting his attention to the jacquard pattern on the bedspread, as if studying it carefully.

Xiao Chi, however, had no sense of embarrassment. He always said what he wanted to say and stared at whoever he wanted to look at. He even leaned in closer, unconcerned about catching a cold.

After a brief silence, Xiao Chi reached out and poked Ji Chenxuan’s flushed cheek with his finger, frowning in concern. “Hey, your face is even redder. Are you sure you don’t want to call your doctor?”

“…” Ji Chenxuan finally couldn’t tolerate it anymore. Ignoring the thermometer in his mouth that clinked against his teeth, he grumbled, “Can you move back a little?”

It was all because this guy couldn’t stop staring at him!

“Oh.” Although he didn’t understand why, Xiao Chi generously complied with the patient’s request—moving back five centimeters.

If Ji Chenxuan hadn’t been paying attention to his movements, the difference would have been nearly imperceptible.

“…” He helplessly closed his eyes and turned his head to the other side. There was the sound of soft footsteps moving along the edge of the bed. When he opened his eyes again, he was once again face-to-face with Xiao Chi’s too-beautiful face.

Ji Chenxuan squinted, quickly removing the thermometer, weakly asking, “What exactly do you want?”

Xiao Chi’s fuzzy head rested right in front of him, blinking his eyes. “Humans change a lot when they’re sick. It’s so strange.”

“What’s so strange about it?” Ji Chenxuan glanced at the thermometer, which read 38.5°C. He sighed slightly in relief, it was still within a manageable range.

“You get all soft and red.” Xiao Chi couldn’t help but reach out to touch his feverish cheek. “Like pink gummy candy, much cuter than usual.”

“…” Ji Chenxuan felt dizzy for a moment, suddenly doubting whether it was the right decision to avoid seeing a doctor.

Perhaps he should go to the hospital to check if he still had any issues with irregular heartbeat.

He took a deep breath and swatted Xiao Chi’s hand away. “Stop messing around. I need to rest after taking the medicine. You go back and sleep.”

Xiao Chi immediately shook his head. “I’ll stay with you.”

It felt like a splash of warm water poured onto his heart. Ji Chenxuan’s entire body went limp, and he opened his mouth, almost willing to give in to this temptation, but he ultimately shook his head with difficulty. “…No. A cold is contagious.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Xiao Chi straightened up, emphasizing seriously.

Ji Chenxuan stared at him, licking his cracked and dry lips. His voice was hoarse. “Why are you so concerned about me?”

He was waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t quite say what kind of response he hoped to hear.

Without thinking, Xiao Chi replied matter-of-factly, “You humans are so fragile. You can die when you get sick. I need to keep an eye on you, in case you get really sick and I need to carry you to the hospital.”

“…” Ji Chenxuan couldn’t catch his breath and nearly fainted from anger.

He must have been out of his mind to expect this single-celled idiot to say something sensible!

Ji Chenxuan buried his face in the blanket, muffling his voice. “As long as you don’t jinx me, I’ll live a long life.”

Xiao Chi quickly pulled the blanket off, revealing a dark, messy head of hair. He shook his head, sighing. “Look at you. Sick, and you’re acting like a little kid.”

Ji Chenxuan helplessly closed his eyes, too tired to argue over such childish things.

Suddenly, the mattress beside him sank. Ji Chenxuan felt Xiao Chi sit very close, the warmth of his body so near that it felt almost tangible.

Unable to resist, Ji Chenxuan opened his eyes. “What exactly do you want?”

Xiao Chi took off his shoes and sat beside him, reaching out to cover his eyes with one hand. Ji Chenxuan’s vision immediately darkened, and above him, Xiao Chi’s deep, magnetic voice rang out:

“Go to sleep. I’ll leave once you fall asleep.”

Ji Chenxuan lay there, stiff, as if some invisible rope had bound his hands and feet, making it even harder for him to sleep.

Xiao Chi was too close. His body, like a small, heated furnace, constantly transmitted warmth. His breath fully invaded the small space between them, causing Ji Chenxuan’s heart to race.

It really was heating up, Ji Chenxuan thought groggily, until the heat made him break into a sweat. Only then did he drift off to sleep.

In the middle of the night, a sliver of moonlight cast onto the cold windowsill, and everything was quiet.

Xiao Chi was woken by the sounds Ji Chenxuan made. When he woke, he found himself curled up beside the man, still fully clothed.

Through sleepy eyes, Ji Chenxuan gripped his arm tightly, as if caught in a nightmare. He muttered incoherently, his brows furrowed, his eyeballs twitching under his eyelids, as though he were enduring some kind of unbearable pain.

“Ji Chenxuan! Wake up!” Xiao Chi shook his shoulder vigorously, until Ji Chenxuan gasped awake.

Ji Chenxuan was drenched in sweat, his back soaked with cold perspiration. His chest heaved violently as he stared blankly at the dark ceiling, his focus lost.

“Are you okay?” With the faint moonlight as his guide, Xiao Chi leaned over him, took a towel, and began to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Who?” Ji Chenxuan suddenly jumped, instinctively raising his hand to block him, as if wary of a stranger.

He leaned back too forcefully, hitting his head against the bed’s headboard with a dull thud. Ji Chenxuan felt dizzy, clutching his head, leaving Xiao Chi speechless.

“It’s me, just wiping your sweat. Why such a big reaction?” Xiao Chi said, looking aggrieved as he slumped his face and sat up straight.

Everything in front of him was blurry. Ji Chenxuan rubbed his aching forehead, slowly regaining focus, and finally recognized that the person lying on his bed was Xiao Chi.

“…Didn’t you go back to your room to sleep?” Ji Chenxuan’s throat was dry and hoarse. He groped for the water cup on the nightstand and gulped down a large sip.

“Who told you to hold onto my hand so tightly while you were asleep, not letting me leave?” Xiao Chi pouted, helplessly complaining in a low voice. He turned on the bedside lamp, poured him a new cup of hot water, and gently patted his back. “Feeling any better?”

“…Thank you.” Ji Chenxuan quickly glanced at him before lowering his eyelids again. His lashes cast a faint shadow, making his face seem a little pale. “I was just… not used to having someone around.”

“Ah, I see. Did I disturb your rest?” Xiao Chi scratched his head. “Then I’ll go back to my room.”

“Wait—” Ji Chenxuan subconsciously grabbed the corner of his shirt with a weak pull. Still not looking up, he muttered softly, “I don’t mind your presence.”

The force behind the pull was too weak to resist for Xiao Chi. He looked down at the man’s hand clutching his shirt, almost as if holding onto a faint hope.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he slowly climbed back onto the bed, holding the pillow in his arms. His brown hair was fluffy and slightly curled, like a squirrel clutching a pine cone, and he lazily yawned.

“Sigh, since you need me so much, I’ll stay with you a little longer.”

Ji Chenxuan changed into clean pajamas, lay back down, and turned off the light. In the dimness, he could hear the rustling sound of clothes and sheets as Xiao Chi lay down.

The blanket lifted and fell. With his eyes closed, Ji Chenxuan could even feel the warmth approaching until his arm touched soft skin. He couldn’t help but open his eyes and glance at him—Xiao Chi was lying beside him, head propped up, his body below the shoulders completely bare.

“…Why aren’t you wearing pajamas?” Ji Chenxuan quickly looked away, trying to imagine the scene under the blanket. His breath and nose were both hot.

Xiao Chi responded with confidence, “I didn’t bring any.”

“…” Ji Chenxuan had no words to reply.

A hand gently pressed against his head, as if to soothe a frightened little lamb. Xiao Chi softly urged, “Go to sleep, go to sleep, it’s already the second half of the night.”

Ji Chenxuan didn’t know what kind of expression to have. Just thinking about sharing a bed with this naked guy made him lose all sleep.

But he couldn’t bring himself to kick Xiao Chi out either.

Ji Chenxuan felt conflicted inside.

“Can’t sleep?” Xiao Chi suddenly leaned over, his warm breath brushing against his neck, sending a chill through his body.

Ji Chenxuan opened his mouth but didn’t know how to answer. Before he could figure it out, Xiao Chi turned on the bedside lamp again, casually grabbed a hardcover book from the drawer. It was a poetry collection.

“I really can’t do anything with you,” Xiao Chi said helplessly, shaking his head. He propped himself up against the bed and casually flipped open a page.

“The woodcutter’s axe asked the tree for a handle, and the tree gave it to him.” Xiao Chi softly read the poem in his unique voice, gentle, like a whisper in the ear.

Ji Chenxuan listened to his voice, and without thinking, he closed his eyes. In the past, when Xiao Chi was still a virtual idol, he often read poetry to him in the middle of sleepless nights, helping him fall asleep with the sound of his voice.

After finishing a poem, Xiao Chi paused for a moment and couldn’t help but comment, “This tree is too easy to talk to.”

Ji Chenxuan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time: “You really should study the Chinese textbooks properly.”

Xiao Chi straightened his face: “If you keep complaining, I’ll stop reading.”

“Read page 43,” Ji Chenxuan said calmly, as if he was very familiar with this book.

“I love you, not just because of your appearance, but also because, when I’m with you, I see myself…”

“Page 48.”

“I love you so much, words can’t express it all…”

“Page 61.”

“I love you, without saying a word, just watching you smile from across the room…”

“Say it again, I love you, who would complain that there are too many stars in the sky…”

As Xiao Chi kept reading, he began to feel something was off. He closed the book, turned to look at Ji Chenxuan, and saw that the man had unknowingly fallen asleep, a faint smile still lingering on his lips.

—

Since the entertainment journalist arranged by Zhou Tong leaked the news, the scandal about the singer impersonating in “Farewell to the Past” has quickly spread across major media outlets and gone viral online.

In just one day, the story dominated most entertainment news headlines. The song had only just dropped off the trending list a few days ago, but thanks to this explosive news, it shot back to the top of the trending charts.

Even the gossip about a certain popular celebrity revealing their romantic relationship was buried under this news.

On music platforms, the download count and votes for “Farewell to the Past” began soaring again, finally breaking into the top ten!

However, unlike the previous birthday video of the national host Li Mingyue, such a malicious incident of a singer impersonating another has never happened in any of the previous national talent shows. This scandal was too absurd and dramatic, making it hard not to think of it as a case of malicious hype.

The online rumors were growing louder, with fans, haters, and paid commenters all eagerly fanning the flames, questioning the truth of the matter.

Some even began indiscriminately attacking and insulting “Farewell to the Past” and its real singer, with the obvious goal of removing Xiao Chi from the finals.

Fortunately, Ji Chenxuan had already anticipated this. Before instructing the entertainment journalist to scare Liang Jingsheng and expose the truth, he had told Zhou Tong to prepare for all possible risks. So far, the public sentiment and the effects of controlling the narrative were somewhat satisfactory. Sympathy and curiosity toward the real singer still held the upper hand.

With behind-the-scenes manipulation and deliberate guidance from Huanyi, everyone’s attention naturally shifted to the new focal point—who exactly was this mysterious singer?

The top ten golden seats were already displayed on the official website, with each contestant’s profile picture uploaded, except for “Xiao Chen” whose avatar was a gray silhouette.

Currently, two main opinions are dominating online. Some conspiracy theorists believed this was a deliberate hype by Huanyi, while others speculated that the singer must be too unattractive to show their real face, so they were taking advantage of the heat to earn more votes.

The two sides were arguing fiercely.

For a time, Li Mingxin’s phone was almost overloaded with calls from various sources trying to get information. He was extremely frustrated. He, too, was kept in the dark, and no matter how much he tried to coax Zhou Tong, that guy just wouldn’t budge.

Great, anyway, the finals are about to start soon. How much longer can they hide this mysterious person?

^[1]“Even if the wife is ugly, she still has to meet the in-laws” is a metaphorical expression that conveys the idea that, no matter what personal imperfections or challenges a person may … Continue readingEven if the wife is ugly, she still has to meet the in-laws.

—

The next morning.

The alarm clock dutifully went off, as if a thousand ducks were screaming frantically in his ears. Xiao Chi’s hair stood on end, and with a sudden jolt, he slapped it—instantly muting the alarm—it was turned into a pancake.

“Uh oh!” Realizing what he’d done, Xiao Chi immediately snapped out of his sleepy mood.

He carefully glanced at Ji Chenxuan, who usually would have been up by this time, but now was frowning, eyes tightly shut, sleeping soundly.

Xiao Chi took the clock’s remains, quietly tossed them into the trash can, and tiptoed back to bed, gently touching Ji Chenxuan’s forehead.

“Huh, why is it even hotter?” Xiao Chi exclaimed. “Ji Chenxuan! Ji Chenxuan, wake up!”

Seeing that Ji Chenxuan was burning with fever, Xiao Chi’s heart sank. He didn’t have much time to think and quickly pulled out his wrist terminal. He found the personal doctor’s contact from the address book.

“Hello, doctor? Hurry up and save Ji Chenxuan, he’s not looking good!”

Ji Chenxuan, who was slowly regaining consciousness, murmured: “…”

“Eh? You’re still alive?” Xiao Chi looked at him with surprise.

“…You’re about to kill me,” Ji Chenxuan muttered weakly.

“…”

Doctor Fang arrived quickly, likely because Xiao Chi’s tone had scared him. He didn’t even have time to change his shoes, rushing in wearing his house slippers.

Anna opened the door for him, and as Doctor Fang hurried into the bedroom, Xiao Chi was feeding Ji Chenxuan some porridge. Upon hearing the noise, he turned around, breathing a sigh of relief as if he’d found a savior: “Doctor, you’re finally here!”

In his relief, Xiao Chi’s hand trembled and accidentally poked Ji Chenxuan’s nose with the spoon.

“…”

Ji Chenxuan sighed, quietly wiping the rice grains off his nose with a tissue.

The moment he met Ji Chenxuan’s complicated, reproachful gaze, Doctor Fang felt a jolt in his heart and cautiously asked, “Ji… President Ji… are you… okay?”

Ji Chenxuan sighed again, weakly lifting his eyelids, and in a hoarse voice replied, “Just a fever. Thank you for coming all the way here.”

“Oh, I thought…” Doctor Fang wiped the sweat from his forehead, letting out a long sigh of relief. The phone call had scared him so much that he almost wrote his will.

Since Ji Chenxuan never went to the hospital, his family always kept regular checkup and treatment equipment at home.

Doctor Fang swiftly took Ji Chenxuan’s temperature and examined him, asking detailed questions about his condition. After seeing the thermometer, his previously relaxed brows furrowed again: “President Ji, you’ve been working too hard recently. You need proper rest.”

Without thinking, Ji Chenxuan immediately shook his head, but even this small movement made him feel dizzy: “No, I have to go to the company later. There’s an important meeting in the afternoon, I can’t miss it.”

“That’s not going to work!” Doctor Fang shook his head vigorously, his brows furrowing into tight knots. “You’re running a high fever right now. In your condition, you should be resting, not pushing yourself just because you’re young. Don’t treat your health like this.”

Ji Chenxuan’s gaze darkened slightly, his expression impatient. “Give me some medicine to bring down the fever.”

“That’s still not possible. Your condition will keep relapsing.” Doctor Fang’s tone turned more forceful. “Unless you get an IV drip, you’re not getting out of bed.”

“Doctor Fang!” Ji Chenxuan’s face suddenly changed, and he instinctively recoiled, his feverish red cheeks taking on an unhealthy pale hue. “I’ve never had an injection, and you know that.”

“Then you need to lie down and rest properly. Stop thinking about going to work!” Doctor Fang glared at him determinedly. “Don’t even think about sneaking off later. I’ll be watching you.”

Those few short sentences had already drained Ji Chenxuan’s energy. He helplessly closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

Doctor Fang hummed a couple of times. Having dealt with uncooperative patients before, he had a method. He rummaged through his medical kit and pulled out some fever-reducing suppositories, tossing them to Xiao Chi, who was waiting on the side. “This guy has a sensitive stomach, so the medication is in suppository form. You need to administer it to him.”

“???” Xiao Chi froze, holding the small packet of suppositories in his hand, utterly confused.

“…What do you mean by suppository?”

Ji Chenxuan was feeling dizzy from the fever when, unexpectedly, he heard this and jumped in shock, almost leaping up.

Doctor Fang rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Haven’t you ever used it before? There are instructions on the packet. Don’t forget to wear gloves. Before the suppository dissolves, you have to keep pressing with your finger. Otherwise, it will slide out, and it won’t work.”

Xiao Chi nodded vaguely, not fully understanding. “Got it.”

“Wait—” Ji Chenxuan gritted his teeth, his face alternating between red and pale, and tightly gripped the bed sheets. “Don’t use that. I want an oral medication!”

Doctor Fang unfolded the medical record, scribbling down notes without looking up. He immediately dismissed Ji Chenxuan’s request. “No. Your stomach can’t handle that kind of stimulation. You’ll just throw it up, and taking it will be the same as not taking it.”

The thought of Xiao Chi administering the medicine that way, with his finger in such a… place, made Ji Chenxuan’s heart race uncontrollably!

Just imagining it was too much for him to bear!

Ji Chenxuan’s dizziness worsened, his forehead breaking out in sweat. He still refused to back down, stubbornly holding onto his final ounce of resistance. “No…”

Doctor Fang slammed the medical record closed, his brows raised as he took on the tone of a doctor issuing an order. “I’m the doctor, you’re the patient. I tell you what medicine to take, and you take it. Don’t argue with me, or I’ll have to give you an IV drip!”

Xiao Chi, who had never heard of embarrassment or shame, nodded in agreement from the side. “That’s right. You have to listen to the doctor. I’ll give you the medicine, don’t worry. It won’t hurt.”

“…” Ji Chenxuan lay back weakly, like a fish on a chopping block, ready to be dissected. “I… I can do it myself.”

“No way!” Xiao Chi argued seriously. “Look at you, your face is all red. If this goes on, it’ll burn your brain out!” He confidently took on the task of administering the medicine. “I’ll do it, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t slide out!”

Doctor Fang shivered slightly, privately rolling his eyes. This was just a simple fever medication, so why did the conversation feel so weird?

Ji Chenxuan closed his eyes in defeat, as if finally surrendering. He threw a weary glance at Doctor Fang, who was standing there watching the show.

The doctor, sensing the awkwardness, cleared his throat and awkwardly chuckled. “I’ll step out for now. I’ll prepare a special diet for Anna, and if you feel worse, just call for me.”

After saying that, Doctor Fang quickly left the bedroom.

As Xiao Chi approached with the suppository, Ji Chenxuan instinctively swallowed, his heart pounding in his ears like a drum.

He felt like a prisoner walking to his execution, but also like a bride waiting for the wedding night—lying in bed, limbs limp, face flushed, and burning with heat.

A heat of all kinds.