His Illness

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor washed over them.

Lu Shiyan walked ahead, the hem of his white coat swaying gently with his steps.

He did not look back at Lin Xingmian again, but his steps were neither fast nor slow, as if he were certain that the person behind him would follow.

Gu Hanzhou’s hand was still wrapped around Lin Xingmian’s waist, and through the thin fabric of the shirt, the warmth of his palm felt scorching hot.

He showed no intention of letting go, but instead guided Lin Xingmian gently by the side when entering the elevator, making him press tightly against his body.

There were only three people in the elevator.

Lu Shiyan pressed the floor button and turned around.

His gaze first landed on Lin Xingmian’s face, then moved downward—shifting to Gu Hanzhou’s hand around his waist.

“Mr. Gu,” Lu Shiyan spoke, his voice gentle.

“The physical examination requires filling out some forms, you can let Xingmian wait in the lounge area.”

“No need,” Gu Hanzhou’s tone was faint.

“He is staying with me.”

“Some examination items involve privacy.”

“Then it is even more necessary for him to know,” Gu Hanzhou glanced sideways at Lin Xingmian.

“After all, it is my physical examination result.”

Lu Shiyan’s smile did not change, but his fingers gripping the medical record folder tightened for an instant.

The elevator arrived.

The VIP examination area was very quiet, and the nurse immediately came forward to hand over the forms upon seeing Lu Shiyan bring someone up.

Lu Shiyan took them, scanned through them quickly, and then looked up at Gu Hanzhou.

“Does Mr. Gu usually experience any discomfort?”

“No.”

“Family medical history?”

“Unclear.”

Lu Shiyan nodded and quickly checked several boxes on the form.

His handwriting was neat and beautiful, just like his personality—showing no flaws on the surface.

“Then we will do the basic examinations first,” he handed the form to the nurse and looked at Lin Xingmian.

“Xingxing, your complexion looks a bit poor, didn’t you sleep well last night?”

Lin Xingmian froze for a moment and touched his face subconsciously.

“…It is fine.”

“The dark circles are very heavy,” Lu Shiyan took a step forward and leaned down slightly to examine his face closely.

The distance was so close that Lin Xingmian could see the curve of his eyelashes clearly.

“Is it because you cannot sleep after changing to a new place? You have been like this since childhood, sensitive to unfamiliar beds.”

This sentence was spoken casually, yet every single word carried a tacit understanding that only the two of them could comprehend.

Lin Xingmian did not know what to say.

What Lu Shiyan said was true—he indeed had trouble sleeping in unfamiliar beds, as a child, every time he went out of town, he would definitely suffer from insomnia on the first night, and the person who stayed by his side to coax him to sleep back then was Lu Shiyan.

“He slept very well.”

Gu Hanzhou’s voice came from behind, looking neither cold nor warm.

He walked over and naturally stood between Lin Xingmian and Lu Shiyan, cutting off that invisible connection from the past.

“Is that so?” Lu Shiyan stood up straight, meeting Gu Hanzhou’s gaze.

The two were of similar height, and their gazes clashed in the air, neither of them shifting away first.

“How does Mr. Gu know he slept well? You do not live in the same room after all.”

The air froze for an instant.

Gu Hanzhou raised his brows slightly, then he tilted his head to look at Lin Xingmian, the corner of his mouth curving into a meaningful arc.

“Tell him.”

Lin Xingmian’s cheeks burned up.

He knew Gu Hanzhou was misleading on purpose—they indeed did not live in the same room, but once this sentence was spoken, any explanation would look like a cover-up.

“…I slept by myself last night,” he said in a small voice.

Gu Hanzhou did not refute him, but he did not confirm it either.

He just kept that half-smile expression while looking at Lu Shiyan, his eyes carrying a type of unspoken provocation between males.

Lu Shiyan looked at the two of them, slowly took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and wiped the lenses with the corner of his white coat.

This action was very slow, slow enough to look like a deliberate pause, preventing others from seeing the emotions in his eyes clearly.

When he put his glasses back on, he already recovered that gentle smile.

“Alright, I understand, then let us continue.”

He turned to walk toward the examination room, and after taking two steps, he suddenly stopped again and looked back at Lin Xingmian.

“By the way, Xingxing, you should also get an examination yourself today.”

“Me?”

“Yes, since you are already here, I might as well check on you,” Lu Shiyan’s tone was like he was stating a medical fact.

“You have lost a lot of weight over these past few months, the last time we met you were still—”

He paused, as if recalling, and then stated an exact number down to the jin.

“Fifty-seven kilograms, now I estimate it is less than fifty-three.”

Lin Xingmian fell silent.

That number was correct.

Lu Shiyan always remembered every single piece of data about him—height, weight, and every item on his physical examination reports.

From childhood to adulthood, his health records were always managed by Lu Shiyan.

This kind of memory used to make him feel reassured, but now it made him feel suffocated.

“Alright,” Gu Hanzhou answered on Lin Xingmian’s behalf.

“He will get checked too, but—”

He walked to Lin Xingmian’s side, raising his hand to adjust his collar, his fingertips lightly brushing past his collarbone and leaving a fleeting touch.

“His examination report will be kept by me.”

Lu Shiyan looked at this scene and did not say anything.

He turned and pushed open the door to the examination room, his movement a bit heavier than before.

The door banged against the wall, making a dull sound.

The routine examinations were finished quickly.

The nurse led Gu Hanzhou to the next room for an electrocardiogram, leaving only Lin Xingmian and Lu Shiyan in the examination room.

“Come here,” Lu Shiyan sat at the desk, flipping through the medical records without raising his head.

Lin Xingmian stood on the spot and did not move.

“Xingxing,” Lu Shiyan raised his head, took off his glasses to place them on the table, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Come here.”

These two words were not a request, but a command.

Lin Xingmian walked over slowly and sat down on the chair opposite the desk.

Lu Shiyan looked at him, his gaze starting from his forehead and moving down bit by bit—brows, eyes, nose bridge, lips, chin—as if wanting to carve every single place back into his memory.

“Did he touch you?” he asked.

The voice was very light, yet it made Lin Xingmian’s back feel numb.

“…No.”

“Do not lie,” Lu Shiyan stood up, walked around the desk, and came in front of Lin Xingmian.

He leaned against the edge of the table, looking down at him, his finger lightly tapping on Lin Xingmian’s lower lip.

“Here, he has touched it, I can tell.”

Lin Xingmian’s breath skipped a beat.

Lu Shiyan’s fingers were slenderer and cooler than Gu Hanzhou’s, feeling like the touch of a scalpel tip.

He did not rub or grind like Gu Hanzhou did, but just pointed there without moving, which made Lin Xingmian feel it was more difficult to endure than anything else.

“Xingxing, do you know why I studied medicine?” Lu Shiyan’s voice lowered, as if he were stating some unknown secret.

“It was just for you.”

“Your constitution has been worse than others since childhood, catching a cold twice a month and definitely running a fever during season changes.”

“When you were six years old and hospitalized with pneumonia, I stayed outside the ward for three days and three nights, begging my father to let me go in to see you.”

He paused, his fingertips sliding from Lin Xingmian’s lower lip to his chin, lifting it up gently.

“From then on I decided that your body can only be managed by me.”

“No one else is allowed to touch it.”

When he said this, his expression remained gentle.

But within those eyes uncovered by lenses, there was a concentrated, almost pathological emotion.

Lin Xingmian felt his heart beating too fast, fast enough to feel a bit painful.

“Shiyan…”

“Call me Dr. Lu,” Lu Shiyan interrupted him, withdrew his finger, turned around to pick up the stethoscope on the table, and hung it around his neck.

“Stretch out your hand.”

Lin Xingmian stretched out his hand, and Lu Shiyan gripped his wrist.

It was not a pulse-taking posture, but a method of fingers interlocking with fingers, palm pressing against palm.

“Your heart is beating very fast,” he said, his thumb lightly pressing the inner side of Lin Xingmian’s wrist where the skin was thinnest and the pulse beat most noticeably.

“One hundred and twelve beats per minute, you are nervous.”

“I am not—”

“There is no need to explain in front of me,” Lu Shiyan released his hand and turned around to get the sphygmomanometer.

His movements were smooth and professional, looking like a completely different person compared to just now.

He helped Lin Xingmian tie the cuff, pressed the button, and the buzzing sound of inflation rang out.

The faces of the two people were very close.

Lu Shiyan’s gaze moved from the display screen of the sphygmomanometer to Lin Xingmian’s lips, lingered for a few seconds, and then shifted back to the display screen.

“Are you regretting it?”

“Regretting what?”

“Regretting leaving, instead of waiting for me.”

Lin Xingmian did not answer.

The sound of the cuff deflating felt like some sort of prolonged torture.

Lu Shiyan untied the cuff, his fingers brushing the inner side of Lin Xingmian’s arm at the moment of release, which was an action more secret than a touch and more restrained than a caress.

“The examination is finished,” he stood up straight, his back facing Lin Xingmian as he recorded in the medical history, the sound of the pen tip tracing across the paper surface rustling.

“You can go out now.”

Lin Xingmian stood up, and after taking two steps, he was suddenly called back from behind by Lu Shiyan.

“By the way, Xingxing—” his tone was incredibly relaxed, as if he were chatting about the weather.

“Before, you promised me that if one day you have someone you like, you must let me know first, do you still remember?”

“…”

“It seems you still remember,” Lu Shiyan closed the medical history, turned around, and gave Lin Xingmian a perfect smile that was perfect enough to make one’s spine chill.

“Then did you forget to tell me, or—”

He looked into Lin Xingmian’s eyes and asked this sentence softly.

“—Have you not yet found that person who is more important than your own life?”

The door to the examination room was pushed open.

Gu Hanzhou stood at the entrance holding the electrocardiogram report, his gaze passing over Lin Xingmian to land on Lu Shiyan.

He had already finished all the examinations, his shirt sleeves were not put down yet, and a red mark left by the tied cuff remained on his forearm.

“Lin Xingmian,” he did not call him Xingxing, but used his full name.

“Come here.”

Lin Xingmian walked past Lu Shiyan’s side.

During the moment they brushed shoulders, Lu Shiyan spoke a sentence in a volume that only the two of them could hear.

The voice was extremely light, like a feather landing on a water surface.

“Your illness can only be cured by me.”

Lin Xingmian’s steps paused for a moment, and then he walked quickly toward the door.

Gu Hanzhou reached out his hand and pulled him behind his back.

He did not look at Lu Shiyan, but placed his hand on the back of Lin Xingmian’s neck in a posture of claiming ownership, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“The report says I am very healthy,” he looked down and spoke to Lin Xingmian.

“So we can go home.”

Lu Shiyan stood in the examination room, watching those two figures disappear at the end of the corridor.

After a long time, he took off his glasses, placed them on the table, and closed his eyes.

On the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his own profile was reflected, looking calm to the point of being almost cold.

The phone vibrated for an instant.

He picked it up to look—it was a message from Ji Beichen, sent in a group chat that did not include Lin Xingmian:

Ji Beichen: [That guy named Gu brought Xingxing to the hospital, do any of you have his contact information?]

Below was Shen Moting’s reply: [Hospital? Which hospital?]

Fu Xici followed closely behind: [The live stream has been postponed, I am in the car, send the location.]

Lu Shiyan did not reply.

He placed the phone face down on the table and put his glasses back on.

Then he spoke a sentence to the empty examination room that no one heard:

“Come on, the more the better.”

“Anyway, in the end, he belongs to me.”