After returning home, Tang Zhe helped Min Yang to the bedroom.
Min Yang seemed quite uncomfortable, his brows tightly furrowed. Tang Zhe, worried, helped Min Yang lie down and then stayed by his side.
As the sky darkened, it was already ten o’clock at night. Min Yang had only rested briefly before Tang Zhe made him take some medicine, and now his condition had improved slightly.
The ticking of the clock on the bedside table echoed in the quiet room, and Tang Zhe finally began to feel a bit uneasy.
They weren’t too close, but not too far either.
Tang Zhe measured the distance with his eyes—about half a meter.
Not far at all.
Their relationship had begun with an arranged marriage. At first, they lived separate lives, barely even sharing the same room. Later, after things softened between them, they spent more time together, especially during Min Yang’s susceptible periods. But despite having done the most intimate things, they had never spent such quiet, close moments like this.
Min Yang had taken his medicine, and his condition had stabilized, leaving Tang Zhe with no real reason to stay.
Thinking this, Tang Zhe glanced at Min Yang, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
Min Yang had been resting with his eyes closed. Having just taken his medicine, he must have a bitter taste in his mouth, yet Tang Zhe had given him a piece of candy meant for children.
How childish!
He wasn’t afraid of bitterness, Min Yang thought. Besides, what was a little bitterness compared to what he’d endured?
But… this candy, whatever brand it was, was quite sweet. Min Yang savored it for a moment with his eyes closed.
He didn’t have much experience with candy. After all, no one had ever tried to comfort him with sweets. Not that he needed anyone’s candy, of course.
However…
Min Yang looked at the back of his hand, feeling as though Tang Zhe’s warmth still lingered there, even after two or three hours. The heat made his fingers curl slightly.
When Tang Zhe glanced over, Min Yang happened to lift his head. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Min Yang understood what Tang Zhe was thinking.
Before his brain could catch up, his body had already acted.
Suddenly, as if in pain, Min Yang clutched his chest and coughed lightly into his hand. When Tang Zhe’s eyes filled with concern, Min Yang frowned slightly, as if struggling to suppress his discomfort.
“Are… are you okay?” Tang Zhe asked worriedly, placing one hand on Min Yang’s shoulder while offering a cup of warm water with the other. “Do you… want some water?”
“No, I’m fine,” Min Yang waved his hand dismissively, followed by a fit of coughing. “Cough, cough, cough—”
“Cough, cough, cough, cough—”
“Cough, cough, cough, cough!”
“Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough!”
Mr. Min’s first attempt at faking illness went overboard, and before he knew it, his coughing had taken on the rhythm of “One, two, three, four, five, going up the hill to catch a tiger.”
Min Yang: …
As Tang Zhe listened to Min Yang’s rhythmical coughing, two question marks slowly formed in his mind.
Min Yang: Are you buying this?
The coughing eventually stopped, leaving a heavy silence in the room.
After a long pause, Tang Zhe hesitated, then spoke, “Mr… Mr. Min’s cough… has a… a strong rhythm, doesn’t it?”
Min Yang: …
Min Yang: If I say it wasn’t on purpose, would anyone believe me?
Finally, Min Yang decided to change tactics: “I’m not coughing.”
“It’s just that my head is still a bit dizzy. It’s probably nothing serious. If you want to go to the guest room to rest, go ahead.”
“My shoulder still hurts a bit, though, so I might not be able to tuck myself in properly.”
“But that’s no big deal. If I accidentally catch a cold, I can just take more medicine…”
The more Tang Zhe listened, the more he frowned. When Min Yang mentioned his shoulder still hurting, Tang Zhe’s frown deepened.
That’s right, Mr. Min’s shoulder was still injured. How could he have almost forgotten?
Feeling a bit guilty, Tang Zhe quickly dismissed Min Yang’s “rhythmic cough” incident and helped the “frail” Min Yang lie down. After making sure he was tucked in, Tang Zhe looked seriously into Min Yang’s eyes and said, “Sleep… sleep well.”
Min Yang pressed his lips together, not saying a word. When Tang Zhe touched his shoulder, the slight tremor in Min Yang’s body was almost imperceptible.
—It seemed to really hurt.
Tang Zhe’s heart softened. “Alright, I… I won’t sleep in the guest room tonight. I’ll stay… stay here with you.”
Tang Zhe thought to himself, Mr. Min really is quite pitiful. Mr. Min’s father never treated him like family, and as for those board members, they were all eager to see him fall into a trap. That brother of his, too—people say blood is thicker than water, but there was no trace of familial affection between these two.
Tang Zhe thought of his own situation. At least he could take care of himself. But what about Min Yang? With no one to protect him, he lived alone in a den of wolves. Just thinking about it made Tang Zhe’s heart ache.
Tang Zhe turned off the lights and quietly got into bed, lying beside Min Yang.
Under the warm silk quilt, Tang Zhe took Min Yang’s hand, his grip firm and steady, transferring his warmth to him.
“Don’t… don’t be afraid,” Tang Zhe said, turning to face Min Yang. “I’ll always… protect you.”
“Sleep… sleep well, and if you feel… unwell, just call me.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Min.”
“Goodnight,” Min Yang replied.
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