Awakening to Numbness

“Grandma, Grandma, save me! Great-uncle’s big yellow dog is trying to steal my food again!”

Approximately six-year-old Lin Yu, clad in a faded blue sleeveless vest, ran and shouted, clutching a small biscuit in his hand, his feet adorned with mismatched slippers as he complained to his grandmother.

His grandmother, mending clothes in the yard, squinted against the still-scorching late autumn sun.

From the cool shade of the eaves, she watched, eyes crinkling, as little Yu playfully tormented the honest, docile big yellow dog, yet still made false accusations, a benevolent smile gracing her lips.

“You’re practically strangling it, and you still claim it’s trying to steal your food,” his grandmother chided gently, rising to place her needlework into a nearby cardboard box.

Reaching into a slightly rusted tin box, she retrieved a few broken biscuits and tossed them to the big yellow dog, which, tongue lolling, had patiently endured Lin Yu’s antics.

“Heh heh heh,” little Lin Yu giggled happily under the blazing sun, his large, dark eyes brimming with affection. “Eat up, eat up!”

He had just been playing on the street with his biscuit when the big yellow dog, its mouth watering, licked its chops.

His Great-uncle scolded it, “You glutton! You can’t beg for food from little Yu; go beg from other children.”

Even at his young age, little Yu understood that his Great-uncle looked after him and his grandmother, who relied solely on each other.

No one in their household earned an income, and with little land to cultivate, their days were marked by poverty.

The biscuit in his hand had, in fact, been pressed upon his grandmother by his Great-uncle.

Lin Yu only allowed himself one piece a day.

Yet, seeing the big yellow dog’s longing, greedy gaze, he deliberately, though seemingly accidentally, brushed the biscuit against its wet black nose.

Then, pulling the dog along, he led it back home, intending to give it an extra piece, resolving that he simply wouldn’t eat one tomorrow.

His Great-uncle, watching Lin Yu’s subtle machinations, let out a soft sigh. “What a good child, but cursed with a difficult fate, alas.”

Seeing the big yellow dog happily munching, Lin Yu, equally delighted, jumped up and clapped his hands.

Suddenly, however, his vision blurred to black, stars exploded before his eyes, and an unbearable wave of nausea swept through him, causing him to collapse stiffly to the ground.

“Little Yu! Little Yu!” his grandmother cried out in terror, rushing him immediately to the home of the village’s sole doctor.

From that day forward, his grandmother knew: the child suffered from severe anemia.

Consequently, his grandmother began cultivating red beans, tirelessly preparing red bean soup, cooking red bean porridge, and even scattering a handful of pre-soaked red beans into steamed buns.

Despite her efforts, Lin Yu still fainted occasionally.

“Grandma is useless, I can’t earn money, I’ve never left the village, I don’t know how to take you to the city for treatment,” his grandmother would often lament, consumed by self-reproach, having wept countless times.

“Grandma can’t make red bean soup for you anymore; you must remember to eat more, my child…”

“Grandma!” In an instant, six-year-old Lin Yu transformed into his twenty-one-year-old self, weeping uncontrollably under the blinding sunlight. “Grandma, why are you transparent? Grandma, don’t leave!”

“Grandma!”

Lin Yu jolted awake from his dream once more, his hand still frozen in the gesture of holding a biscuit.

“Grandma…” he whispered, realizing he had dreamt again, his voice laden with despair and sorrow.

Before him lay a spacious bedroom, immaculately clean with a grey aesthetic, its large, wide window near the bed draped with a sheer curtain that swayed gently in the breeze.

His expression was vacant, for it was only in his dreams that he could still see his grandmother.

Lin Yu wiped away his tears, his fingers finding the gauze bandage on his forehead.

He pressed on the wound through the gauze, yet felt absolutely nothing.

A sense of bewilderment washed over Lin Yu; he pressed down harder several times, but still, no pain registered.

‘Am I still dreaming?’ Lin Yu wondered, pressing again with more force. His eyelashes became matted with blood, which then began to drip steadily onto the duvet.

He stared sluggishly as the blood slowly seeped into the light blue duvet, utterly devoid of reaction.

No pain, not a trace of it.

‘How wonderful it would be to die; then I wouldn’t have to dream anymore.’

It was past eight in the evening. Jiang Yan was working on his computer, with the split-screen monitor showing Lin Yu’s bedroom continuously active.

Some video files, however, required full-screen viewing. After he finished watching and closed them, he noticed Lin Yu was awake, sitting on the bed with a vacant stare, blood steadily streaming down his forehead.

Alarmed, he immediately called for the private doctor he had hired that afternoon, then burst directly into Lin Yu’s bedroom.

“Quick, stop the bleeding!” Jiang Yan commanded, pressing his hand firmly against Lin Yu’s forehead, applying pressure to the wound to staunch the flow.

“Jiang… Jiang Yan,” Lin Yu stammered, recognizing the person before him. His body trembled slightly, and he immediately flinched back, shrinking into the corner, his eyes filled with repulsion and fear.

Jiang Yan, perplexed by Lin Yu’s reaction, watched his expression slowly morph into confusion.

“Lin Yu, what’s wrong?”

“I beg you, don’t touch me. I’ll truly repay you; please, can you let me go?” Lin Yu pleaded, his gaze fixed on the doorway, looking weak and pathetic.

‘So he was awake; it wasn’t a dream.’

Jiang Yan had brought him home.

Why would a stranger bring him to their home? In Cai Xinyu’s words, it was to make him compensate for a debt with his body.

Cai Xinyu had advanced all of his grandmother’s medical expenses, refusing an IOU and instead stating that Lin Yu only needed to be his boyfriend, available to him whenever he wished.

“I beg you, I don’t want to…” Lin Yu had endured one such humiliating experience, leaving him as jumpy as someone seeing a reflection of a bow as a snake, his entire body radiating repulsion.

He would rather die than face it again.

He refused to become anyone’s plaything.

“Don’t get agitated,” Jiang Yan said, stepping back as he watched Lin Yu, who seemed like a bird startled by the twang of a bowstring. “Let the doctor stop the bleeding first.”

“It doesn’t hurt… I won’t stop the bleeding. I beg you, let me go.”

“Where would you go? Once the bleeding stops, I’ll send you away, I promise,” Jiang Yan reassured, retreating further. “Be good.”

As Lin Yu watched Jiang Yan continuously retreat, his resistance began to wane. The doctor cautiously approached him, speaking in a soft, soothing tone.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. I’ll be gentle; the bleeding will stop very quickly.”

Lin Yu lifted his eyes to the doctor, his voice pleading, “I don’t want to stay here.”

“Then let me change your dressing obediently, and once it’s done, I’ll let you leave.” A white lie, calming the patient’s emotions first, was often a necessary evil for doctors.

Lin Yu nodded obediently.

Throughout the dressing change, Jiang Yan’s gaze remained fixed on Lin Yu.

He couldn’t fathom why Lin Yu’s attitude towards him had suddenly shifted so drastically.

And Lin Yu’s expression—it seemed utterly unresponsive to the dressing change.

Numb and sorrowful, he uttered not a single cry of pain.

The doctor had asked him several times if it hurt, but he consistently shook his head.

It didn’t appear as if he was merely enduring the pain; rather, he seemed… truly devoid of sensation.

A disquieting premonition settled in Jiang Yan’s heart.

Could the impact of the car crash have been so severe that it damaged his pain receptors?

“Doctor Wang, it seems he genuinely feels no pain,” Jiang Yan stated, requesting an examination.

As the most direct method, the doctor administered an anti-inflammatory injection.

Throughout the entire procedure, Lin Yu remained expressionless, still informing the doctor that he felt absolutely nothing.

Doctor Wang looked at Jiang Yan. “He still needs to go to the hospital for a thorough check-up.”

“I’m not going, I’m fine,” Lin Yu refused.

“Lin Yu, you suddenly seem to dislike me intensely. Can you tell me why?” Jiang Yan asked, a knot of unease tightening in his chest.

“Why did you bring me home?” Lin Yu countered softly.

“Cai Xinyu kept coming to the hospital looking for you. I found him annoying and didn’t want you to be harassed by him any longer,” Jiang Yan admitted truthfully. “He won’t find my house.”

“When Cai Xinyu first brought me home, he said similar things; they sounded very convincing,” Lin Yu murmured, his eyes downcast, his fingers desperately picking at the duvet.

Jiang Yan fell silent.

He understood now: Lin Yu was terrified of being hurt again.

He no longer possessed the courage to trust anyone.

Bringing him home had indeed been presumptuous.

Upon reflection, bringing someone, especially a stranger, into one’s home could certainly lead to misgivings.

A gentle, refined chuckle escaped Jiang Yan. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m not capable.”

He spoke nonsense, purely to ease Lin Yu’s mind.

The doctor, a seasoned man himself, understood perfectly well what was being implied between them.

As Jiang Yan’s exclusive private physician, Doctor Wang was intimately aware of his patient’s capabilities.

Jiang Yan’s annual physical reports consistently showed him in excellent health.

Lin Yu, a touch surprised, directed his gaze towards Jiang Yan.

“Are you reassured?” Jiang Yan asked, accepting the scrutiny with a gentle smile. “I’m simply spontaneous in my actions; I just want to help you without any particular reason. To put it annoyingly, I have a lot of money, and I’m willing to look after you.”

Doctor Wang rolled his eyes, a touch of humor in his voice. “Annoying indeed. A poor man like me can’t stand your bragging. Envy twists my face beyond recognition, so I’ll be off now.”

He picked up his medical bag and returned to his own room.

Jiang Yan patted his shoulder. “Thank you for your hard work.”

“It’s my duty, of course.”

Only the two of them remained in the room.

A quiet stillness settled between them.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yan produced a mobile phone. “The SIM card is registered under my ID. If anything happens in the future, call me to communicate. And please, no more car crashes, alright? Glass is expensive, and you’d owe me another debt.”

Lin Yu slowly raised his head to look at him, a worried expression clouding his handsome face. “The glass… how much is it? I’ll work hard to repay you. And the phone, I don’t want it.”

Jiang Yan couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘What a silly child, as obedient as a kitten. Who would actually make him repay it?’

“I’m lending you the phone for a few days; just take it and use it,” he said, taking a few steps closer. “Are you hungry?”

Watching him approach, Lin Yu recalled Jiang Yan’s earlier admission of ‘incapability,’ which lessened his resistance.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to eat.”

“You don’t want to? That means you’re hungry. I’ve kept some porridge warm for you; would you like a little?”

“I don’t know you,” Lin Yu stated, unable to comprehend why Jiang Yan was being so kind to him.

“Then perhaps we should formally introduce ourselves?” Jiang Yan suggested, tidying his loungewear. He extended a hand, bowing slightly with politeness. “My name is Jiang Yan, and yours?”

Lin Yu tilted his head back, looking up at him, and felt an intensely reassuring aura emanate from Jiang Yan.

‘Surely, a man like this is utterly different from Cai Xinyu.’

He shouldn’t have compared Jiang Yan to Cai Xinyu, Lin Yu realized with a sudden pang of regret.

He had misjudged him too harshly.

After a brief internal struggle, the scales ultimately tipped, affirming Jiang Yan as a good person.

“Hello, Jiang Yan,” Lin Yu responded softly. “I’m Lin Yu.”