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Fei Du woke up with a start, coughing. 

He heard papers rustle quietly in between the sound of his own wheezing gasps, and Luo Wenzhou’s warm hand squeezed his upper arm gently.

“Water?”

Fei Du shook his head, trying to steady his breathing and push the remnants of the nightmare out of his head. He’d normally be able to—but his fine-tuned self control had taken something of a hit under the combined effect of his pain medication and Mu Xiaoqing’s now-frequent visits. 

He suspected it had something to do with Luo Wenzhou’s new anxiety around letting Fei Du out of his sight, but Mu Xiaoqing only ever admitted she thought Fei Du was an excellent companion for evening tea.

Fei Du did enjoy her company, and seeing them get along well seemed to make Luo Wenzhou happy, but this new practice of hers did have its own unfortunate side-effects—in his weakened state, his subconscious seemed to have a developed a penchant for mixing up mothers in his dreams. 

The tightness in his throat started to ease as he woke up more fully, and he flopped back against Luo Wenzhou, lightheaded. Luo Wenzhou tugged the papers trapped between them free and shut the file he’d been reading to settle Fei Du against him properly. 

“Are you feeling cold?” he asked. 

Fei Du shook his head. Luo Wenzhou pressed a palm against his forehead anyway. 

“Hm. You’re not sick,” he said, hand moving to carefully feel Fei Du’s ribs. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Fei Du said hoarsely. Leaning against Luo Wenzhou as he was, he couldn’t quite tell whether his vision and hearing fading in and out were accompanied by dizziness or not. “Everything hurts.”  

Luo Wenzhou cupped his cheek, thumb lightly pressing at the bone under his eye. “It’s okay,” Luo Wenzhou murmured, pulling the blanket over Fei Du with his free hand. “It’s okay. Try to go back to sleep, it’ll be better in the morning.” He kissed the top of Fei Du’s head. “I can try applying for a half-day tomorrow,” he said. “Should I?”

“No—” Fei Du paused to take a breath. “No, no need.”

Luo Wenzhou hummed noncommittally. “Don’t talk anymore now. Sleep, I’m here.”

Fei Du let the exhaustion drag his eyes shut, listening to Luo Wenzhou’s steady heartbeat under his ear.

When he woke up next, the sky was starting to turn light. He stretched gingerly in place and looked up. Luo Wenzhou had fallen asleep sitting up, file in hand. His head was tilted too far to the side to be comfortable, but he seemed deeply asleep anyway. Fei Du wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him tight as he shut his eyes again. 

The third time he woke up, he found himself curled up around a pillow, a patch of morning sunlight spilling through the gap in the curtains. His glasses and phone had replaced the file on the bedside table, along with a sizable glass of water. 

He lay in place for a bit, staring at the water without quite seeing it, trying to piece his nightmare together. Pain usually tired him out enough to ensure a dreamless sleep, but somehow, the fact that Fan Siyuan was so inextricably tied to his predicament now seemed to be having the opposite effect. He dreamt of his mother more often than not, of the time in the basement with Fan Siyuan, of the last time he saw her, of other times that may or may not have really happened. 

He could rationalise seeing her—the unease curling around the edges of his mind through the day after were not unfamiliar, after all—but seeing Luo Wenzhou’s mother like that… 

He found it more distressing than he’d expected. Perhaps it was the additional guilt of keeping this from Luo Wenzhou. Or the passive concern that he was capable of actually hurting her without remorse. Fei Du couldn’t quite parse why this particular image shook him so much, and thinking about it made his head start to hurt.

He reached for his phone.

“You’re up?” 

Hearing Luo Wenzhou’s voice made the tendrils of unease that had been sneaking up the insides of his ribcage draw back. 

“Hi, shixiong.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Drink that water before you do anything else—and finish at least two bottles before I get back, or I’ll throw you out with those overpriced cacti you bought.”

Fei Du huffed a laugh. “Okay.”

“There’s boiled eggs in the fridge, just peel them and eat them for breakfast.”

“Okay, thank you.”

There was a brief commotion at the other end of the line, then Luo Wenzhou was talking again, quieter than before. “Listen, Fei Du.”

He waited until Fei Du hummed inquiringly. 

“I might be a bit late today. Some idiot from a different team fooled around with our filing system, so I have to sort that out.”

“No problem,” said Fei Du. “We’ll be nice and good here.”

“Please don’t joke so early in the morning,” Luo Wenzhou said. “I’m going to go now. Don’t exert yourself, okay? Mom’s meeting her friends for lunch today, so she won’t stop by.”

“Alright.”

Luo Wenzhou paused. “Okay, now I really have to go. See you in the evening.”

“See you.”

Fei Du put the phone down, obediently drank the water and sent a picture of the empty glass to Luo Wenzhou for good measure. Outside the door, Luo Yiguo, apparently having heard him talking, had started meowing incessantly.

Fei Du pushed himself off the bed slowly. He’d realised when he first reached for his phone—the nightmare had left him feeling somewhat disconnected, like he was navigating a video game with the mouse sensitivity set too high. 

He blinked the wave of lightheadedness away and made his way out of the room. Luo Yiguo circled his ankles the moment he opened the door, purring like a little engine.

“Good morning.” Fei Du bent to scratch at the base of his tail, and Luo Yiguo arched happily into his hand before flopping over and trying to turn the petting into a game of claw-the-hand.

Fei Du tapped him on the nose and straightened up. “It’s just you and me today,” he told Luo Yiguo. “You can have some egg if you don’t say anything about the custard.”

Luo Yiguo meowed and got to his feet, sealing the deal.

As it turned out, Luo Wenzhou had boiled two eggs and left a big glass of milk in the fridge. 

“What should we have first?” Fei Du asked Luo Yiguo.

Luo Yiguo meowed quietly, and Fei Du nodded and picked the eggs up. Luo Yiguo trotted after him, hopped lightly onto the table and tried nibbling at the eggs as Fei Du peeled them. 

“Only a bit,” said Fei Du, pushing the cat back. “Your father will boil me for breakfast if he finds out.”

He cut a small bit of the egg white and tossed it across the room. Luo Yiguo leapt after it. He batted it around, toying with the piece, and Fei Du took the opportunity to eat the rest of the eggs without a lage, pushy cat in his face.

When he went to wash the plate and get the glass of milk, Luo Yiguo had somehow torn the bit of egg up into smaller pieces and was in the process of scattering them around the room.

“Traitor,” Fei Du wanted to say, but the cup slipped out of his hand before he could. 

The sound of the ceramic shattering against the floor made his throat close, and he clutched at the countertop for support.
By the time he managed to stop coughing, the smell of the milk had won over Luo Yiguo’s initial surprise at the sound.

“No,” Fei Du said hoarsely, trying to sound firm. 

“No, you’ll get hurt—” Luo Yiguo sniffed daintily at the edge of the puddle, and Fei Du waved the crutch at him. “Go away.”

 Luo Yiguo, trained in the fine art of resisting threats by virtue of living with Luo Wenzhou, simply ignored him and lifted a paw to dip in the milk. 

If he got a sliver of ceramic in his paw, they’d have to take him to the vet to get it out. Or worse, if he swallowed a piece, they might not even realise until the internal bleeding got too severe to treat. 

Fei Du leaned forward to shove the cat away, but lost his balance. Pain shot up his injured leg, straight to his spine, as he fell. The sound of his crutches clattering to the floor scared Luo Yiguo away. 

Fei Du watched him rush off, fur standing on end, before gingerly lifting his left hand. Pieces of ceramic came with it, and a mixture of milk and blood dripped to the floor.

Bile rose up in his throat. 

He reached for the counter with his other hand, trying to pull himself up, but weakened by the sight and smell of blood and the pain, he just slipped to the floor again.

When the throbbing radiating from his ankle dimmed enough that he could sit up straight, he reached for his phone to call Luo Wenzhou.

He counted in the space between each ring to steady his breathing, so focused on his task that he was almost surprised when the automated voice informed him that the person at the other end was not picking up. 

He eyed his list of emergency contacts, thumb hovering over the second name. 

He sighed and tapped it. 

Tao Ran picked up almost immediately. 

“Fei Du?”

“Tao Ran ge?” he said, quieter than even he expected. 

“Fei Du, what’s up?”

“Ge, is shixiong around?”

“No, he’s sorting out a filing error with Director Lu. Why?”

“How much longer will it take?”

“A few more hours, as far as I know. Did something happen?”

Fei Du swallowed. They hadn’t really spoken much since Fei Du had drugged him—not without Luo Wenzhou driving the conversation, at least.

“I— I’m— I dropped a cup, and there’s a bit of blood, and I—”

“How much blood?”

“Not a lot. I cut my hand.”

“Where are you? Home?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, stay there, I’m coming.”

“No, it’s okay—” Fei Du started, but Tao Ran cut him off firmly. 

“My shift is over anyway. I’m on my way.”

“…Alright.”

The line went dead and Fei Du leaned wearily against the side of the counter, eyes shut. 

“Director Lu.” Tao Ran stuck his head through the doorway. “Can I speak to Captain Luo for a minute?”

“Of course.” Director Lu waved Luo Wenzhou over. “Didn’t you work overtime last night, Tao Ran? Why are you still here?”

“Going through that security footage took longer than I expected,” said Tao Ran, catching Luo Wenzhou by the arm as he came close and guiding him out of the door. 

“Go home and get some rest now, then,” said Director Lu. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Director. See you tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong?” said Luo Wenzhou, before Tao Ran could close the door fully. 

“Fei Du called.” Tao Ran paused, waiting until Luo Wenzhou pulled his phone out, huffed at the missed call notification, and tried calling Fei Du back. 

“He’s not picking up,” said Luo Wenzhou. There was a frantic edge to his voice that made Tao Ran want to shake him till he settled.

“He’s okay,” he said patiently. “He can talk—he just sounded a bit disoriented. I came here to ask for your house keys.”

Luo Wenzhou stared at him. “How do you know he’s okay?” he said, then seemed to realise something. “Why do you need the keys? Can’t he open the door?”

Tao Ran hesitated. “He fell, and since his hand is hurt, I don’t think he can stand up.”

The new information did little to help Luo Wenzhou. He froze like a deer, looking like he was about to drop everything and catapult himself home from the nearest window.

“Wenzhou...” Tao Ran gave up and reached into Luo Wenzhou’s jacket pocket for the keys. “He’s fine. It’s just a bit of blood.”

Luo Wenzhou said nothing. Tao Ran tapped him on the chest. “Breathe. I’ll send you a picture of him when I get there, okay?”

Tao Ran tugged the house keys free, and the sound seemed to pull Luo Wenzhou out of his haze too. “Take my car.”

“Thanks.” Tao Ran pocketed both the keys and propelled Luo Wenzhou back into the room. “Don’t worry. I know how to take care of him.”

Luo Wenzhou nodded absently before turning to look at Tao Ran. “You drive carefully. Text me when you reach.”

At the sound of the front door opening, both Fei Du and Luo Yiguo stirred. Fei Du straightened up with some effort, trying to peer around the walls, and Luo Yiguo sauntered up to Tao Ran, tail high. He picked the cat up, and it nuzzled against his chin, purring happily. 

“There you are,” said Tao Ran. 

Fei Du tried smiling at him. “Sorry I can’t receive you more presentably.”

Tao Ran waved his words off as he shut Luo Yiguo in the study. Luo Yiguo, ever-quick to recognise betrayal, started clawing at the door and howling immediately. Tao Ran cringed at the sound and looked doubtfully at the door. 

“He can’t open it,” said Fei Du. 

“No, but he might be able to break it.” said Tao Ran, “it’s Luo Wenzhou’s child, after all.” 

He blinked, seeming to remember something, then pulled his phone out and took a photograph of Fei Du. 

“Ge?!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Tao Ran typed something into his phone before he slipped it back into his pocket with a sheepish smile. “Luo Wenzhou told me to send him a picture of you when I got here. He was a bit worried.”

“It’s alright. It’s only fair to let him have some blackmail material too.”

Tao Ran wrinkled his nose as he stepped over the milk and opened the cabinet under the sink to pull out some old newspapers. “I don’t want to know anything about the nature of the blackmail material you have.”

Fei Du gave him his best angelic smile. 

“Seems like a pretty deep cut,” Tao Ran said as he crouched in front of him to set sheets of newspaper over the milk. “You might need stitches.”

Fei Du silently lifted his hand to show him, face turned away. Tao Ran winced sympathetically.  “Poor thing. Come on, let’s get you to the sofa first.”

It took them a few attempts to figure out how to haul Fei Du up, and he slumped against Tao Ran as soon as he found his balance, exhausted. 

Tao Ran ruffled his hair. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

“Come, then. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

“I know,” Fei Du said quietly, avoiding Tao Ran’s eye as he took his crutch from him. Tao Ran kept a hand on his arm till he was safely curled up at the corner of the sofa, then went back to the kitchen to hunt for gauze and antiseptic. 

“I didn’t actually think he’d have this,” he said wonderingly, holding the bright, new bottle of spirit to the light. “Did you buy it?”

Fei Du shook his head. “I think shixiong bought it a few weeks ago.”

Tao Ran looked impressed. He cracked the seal on the bottle and sat down beside Fei Du. 

“He’s growing up. He was the type to think everything can be handled with soap and water, you know—give me your hand.” 

Fei Du squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the backrest of the sofa as Tao Ran gently cleaned his hand. The sharp, pleasant smell of antiseptic filled the room, washing over the cloying smell of milk and blood, and Fei Du started to breathe more easily.  

“Keep your eyes closed,” Tao Ran said, letting go of Fei Du’s hand. “Almost done. Thankfully, no pieces went in.” 

He wrapped Fei Du’s palm with gauze and taped the bandaging in place before patting Fei Du on the wrist. “Finished. You can look now.”

Fei Du opened his eyes, and Tao Ran smiled at him. “There are some medicines you’re supposed to take in the morning, right? Have you taken them?”

“Just one tablet, and no.” Fei Du hesitated. “Ge…”

Tao Ran, already on his way to the dining table, turned and tilted his head. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but your shirt…” Fei Du pointed at his own shoulder, and Tao Ran looked at his. 

“Oh.” He grimaced at the sizable smear of blood on his shirt. “Wait.” He vanished down the corridor into the rooms and reappeared in one of Luo Wenzhou’s shirts. “Remind me to take it when I leave,” he said, bringing the medicine box and a bottle of water over. 

The door to the study shuddered one last time and the house suddenly fell quiet. Fei Du’s ears rang in the silence. 

“He’s louder than I realised.”

“It’s ominous,” said Tao Ran. “He won’t attack the computer, will he?”

Fei Du glanced towards the room. “...it’s Luo Wenzhou’s child, after all.”

Tao Ran looked alarmed. “Alright, I’ll clean that up quickly and we can let him out.”

Fei Du swallowed his mouthful of water in a hurry. “Wait, let me help.”

Tao Ran paused and looked at him like he’d suggested using a bath towel to mop up the mess. 

“What?” said Fei Du.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just sit there.”

“It’ll be faster if I help.”

“It’s really not a two-person job. Besides, you’re not exactly in the kind of condition that could be helpful.”

“Good company can make the most mundane of tasks an everlasting memory.”

“I’m sure,” Tao Ran said dryly. 

He wandered around the kitchen, looking for the roll of tissue, and spotted the wiping cloth made of the remains of Luo Wenzhou’s old underwear. “Oh, this reminds me—” he waved the rag in Fei Du’s direction— “send Luo Wenzhou a message. I don’t think the picture I sent was very reassuring.”

“Tissue’s on the empty wine bottle behind the stove,” said Fei Du. “And the floor cleaner’s under the sink. See? I can be helpful.”

“You can, you can. Be a bit more helpful and message that Luo Wenzhou, please.”

Fei Du obediently stared at the blinking cursor on his phone, wondering what to say. “What do I tell him?” he asked Tao Ran finally. 

“Anything. Tell him you’re fine—or that you’re not, if you’re not. But tell me also if that’s the case.”

“I am fine.”

Tao Ran hummed in agreement. “You didn’t even throw up. Are you nauseous?”

“A bit. I think it’s fading, though.”

“That’s good.”

“For context, what did you tell him when you sent that photo?”

“Nothing, really.” Tao Ran handed his phone to Fei Du. “Here, see.”

He really did look miserable in the photograph, all weak and wilted and pitiful. And Tao Ran really had said nothing—he’d just written “Fei Du”, as if he were a specimen in a biology journal.

Fei Du set the phone down and picked his own phone up.

“I’m fine,” he started. “Tao Ran is here, he’s handling everything. Don’t worry.”

“How badly are you hurt?”

“Not very.”

Luo Wenzhou started to type, then stopped. Less than a minute later, Tao Ran’s phone vibrated and Luo Wenzhou’s message lit the screen up.

“How is he?” 

Fei Du looked at the message, half-amused, half-indignant, and scrolled up a bit to get an impression of Tao Ran’s tone when he texted Luo Wenzhou. 

They spoke very little—seeing each other every day would make texting redundant, Fei Du supposed—other than a regular supply of photographs of stray animals that Tao Ran sent ostensibly to see Luo Wenzhou’s one-sentence opinions on them. The only thing resembling a conversation was from about two weeks prior, when Luo Wenzhou asked how Tao Ran’s date had gone, and Tao Ran had given him a succinct report. 

It was enough to work with. 

“Fine. Two cuts, deep, but no stitches needed,” he typed. 

“Thanks.”

Fei Du’s phone vibrated almost immediately after. 

“Good!” Luo Wenzhou said. “I’m going now. Take care, see you in the evening!”

Fei Du tapped his phone against his chin, trying to decide how best to address such audacious behaviour. Freed of his confines, Luo Yiguo zoomed around the house, pausing only to sniff at the now-clean patch of floor. Tao Ran sat down beside Fei Du and looked at him curiously. 

“All good?”

Fei Du nodded, then shook his head. 

“I used your phone.”

Tao Ran raised his eyebrows, confused. 

“I sent a message from your phone,” Fei Du clarified. 

“To whom?”

“Luo Wenzhou.”

“Oh, just him. That’s alright. What did you say?”

“He didn’t believe me when I said I was fine,” Fei Du said, more petulantly than he wished. “So I fabricated a message from you.”

“You two…” Tao Ran shook his head with a small laugh. “Leave me out of your fights.”

“He started it this time.” 

Tao Ran rolled his eyes and held his hand out for his phone. Fei Du pulled it back, out of his reach. 

“Ge,” he said. 

Tao Ran tilted his head inquiringly. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For drugging you that day. Shixiong said you were really upset. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, please tell me.” 

Tao Ran studied him carefully for a moment, then glanced down at his own hands. 

“Is that all?” he said. 

Fei Du stared back at him, feeling strangely like a student cold-called by a teacher to answer questions for a lesson they hadn’t been listening to. 

He’d seen plenty of Tao Ran’s anger, grief, irritation, frustration—but it had never really been directed at him. Even when Tao Ran had found Fei Du particularly bothersome, he’d been gentle. It was easier with Luo Wenzhou—he could predict the outcome with fair accuracy and knew exactly how to manipulate him into switching his annoyance for something milder. But deprived of his usual charm and faced with a genuinely hurt Tao Ran left Fei Du feeling unbalanced.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Tao Ran said, “it’s all in the past anyway, I’m not angry anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have deceived you,” Fei Du tried. 

Tao Ran gave him the kind of half-fond, half-annoyed look he usually gave Luo Wenzhou when he did something ridiculous.

“You’re a bit closer this time, at least,” he said.

Fei Du opened his mouth then shut it, nonplussed. He briefly considered just begging for forgiveness, but the thought of saying the wrong thing and potentially pushing Tao Ran away for good made his heart seize like it had when Tao Ran had been hospitalised.

“Why are you even apologising?” Tao Ran asked, apparently taking pity on him. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Fei Du said honestly. 

“I don’t,” said Tao Ran. “I don’t think I could ever really hate you, don’t worry.”

“Then… then what did I do that upset you?”

“Well, the drugging and deceiving did make me pretty angry,” Tao Ran said, “but I did mean it when I said it’s all in the past. You’re forgiven for that. What you missed is apologising for putting yourself in danger like that. You could have told me. You could have told Director Lu, Luo Wenzhou, Lang Qiao—hell, even Xiao Haiyang.”

“I’m sorry,” Fei Du said sincerely, taking Tao Ran’s hand.

Tao Ran smiled and squeezed his fingers gently. “I know. Now give me my phone and let’s eat something.”

Luo Wenzhou opened the door slowly. Luo Yiguo stuck his head out, and Luo Wenzhou pushed him back in. The mindless familiarity of the action settled his nerves somewhat. 

On the sofa, Tao Ran stirred. 

“Hi,” he said sleepily. 

Luo Wenzhou set his bag down by the door and toed off his shoes. “Hello. Where’s Fei Du?”

“Inside, sleeping.”

Luo Yiguo trotted alongside Luo Wenzhou, winding around his ankles in a rush to overtake him. 

Luo Wenzhou let him stand expectantly for a bit, nose pressed to the crack of the door. 

“Happy?” he asked, picking the cat up and going back to the living room. “Can’t open doors but wants to be everywhere first—keep this joker.” He tossed Luo Yiguo onto Tao Ran. 

Despite the commotion outside, Fei Du was still fast asleep when Luo Wenzhou peered in. 

Luo Wenzhou approached him carefully, all tension draining from him like a sponge being wrung out at the sight of Fei Du intact and peaceful. He brushed Fei Du’s hair off his face and kissed him on the forehead. Still asleep, Fei Du reached up to hold his sleeve, turning towards Luo Wenzhou and curling up. 

Luo Wenzhou bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to make a sound. He kissed him again and gently extricated himself from Fei Du’s grip, cheeks warm.

In the living room, Tao Ran was half asleep, Luo Yiguo on top of him, cleaning his claws with vigour. 

Luo Wenzhou sat down beside the sofa with a sigh and prodded the cat. “Move aside.” 

Luo Yiguo paused the licking to give him a disdainful look. Luo Wenzhou poked at him again, and got a brand-new set of scratches across the back of his hand. 

“Alright, stop, don’t bully him.” Tao Ran hugged Luo Yiguo, pulling him further to the side, away from Luo Wenzhou. 

“He’s the bully,” Luo Wenzhou said, feeling his pockets for cigarettes. Apparently the process of quitting involved not having a pack on him, even when he needed it. He groaned and dropped his head against Tao Ran’s ribs.

“Come, sit up here, I’ll move,” said Tao Ran. 

“No, no, stay.” 

Now that he’d seen Fei Du for himself, the sharp ache in the muscle between his neck and shoulder, the tightness around his lungs, the blurriness at the edges of his vision were starting to fade, leaving him feeling weightless and tired. 

Tao Ran put an arm around him. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then shut it again, brows furrowed. “Your heart—what the hell,” he said instead.  

“It’ll be fine,” Luo Wenzhou mumbled. 

“How often does this happen?”

“Not very.”

Tao Ran hummed as he felt Luo Wenzhou’s heartbeat again.

“You know, you could stop exercising if you let this get worse,” Tao Ran said, and Luo Wenzhou muffled his laughter against his chest. 

“Shut up. Your name is in the credits too.”

“What does that mean?”

“Driving off on your own like that and…” he took a deep breath. “Tao Ran, if you weren’t in the hospital, I really would have thrown you out of the window myself. And when you landed, I’d—” he yanked Tao Ran up by the collar and smacked the back of his head. 

“Hey!”

“Be glad I’m not doing this every morning.”

Tao Ran swallowed his protests and lay back down. “We really haven’t been very nice to you, have we?” he said finally. 

“Not at all. I hate you both. Making me worry like this… my own mother wouldn’t recognise me.”

“Maybe you should see someone.”

“Is that fool Fei Du not enough?” 

“A doctor, I mean.”

“Oh. For what?”

“I think you might be a bit traumatised.”

Luo Wenzhou considered the idea. 

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “Do you think… could it just go away?”

“If you do nothing?” Tao Ran shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know.”

“I think I’ll just wait, then. I don’t want Fei Du to know. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“He’ll take it as proof that he’s got evil DNA and has to be put down like a dog.”

“He’s smarter than that.”

“He really isn’t.”

“No, I mean you won’t be able to hide it from him.”

“Hm. You’re right. But I think I’ll wait it out anyway. I don’t know what I’d say to a doctor even if I went.”

“How long do you plan to wait?”

“I don’t know. A year?”

“A year?!”

“I don’t know. It depends.”

Tao Ran chewed the inside of his cheek, looking at him like he was trying to extract his thoughts directly from his mind. 

“Keep an eye on it, then” he said. “And tell me if it gets worse.”

Luo Wenzhou titled his head so Tao Ran’s arm was pressed between his cheek and shoulder. 

“I know you’ve got a girlfriend and all now, but can I still call you cute?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, first of all,” Tao Ran said, cheeks pink, “and second, since I apparently traumatised you, I’ll allow it this time.”

Luo Wenzhou hummed and let go of his arm. “Does she know she’s not your girlfriend?”

“I’m not discussing this with you.” Tao Ran shoved him lightly. “Go away.”

“Who else will you discuss this with, Fei Du?”

“Maybe. He’d be nicer, at least.”

“As if,” Luo Wenzhou scoffed. “What does he know? He spent all his youth with idiots like that Zhang Donglai.”

“Wasn’t it an act?”

“Even so. You can’t be in close proximity to such uselessness without some of it rubbing off on you.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Fei Du, appearing around the corner surprisingly silently. 

“Ah, our Imperial Presence graces us,” said Luo Wenzhou. It took every last drop of self-control to keep him from pouncing on Fei Du and wrapping him up like a fragile vase.

“Please, dear subjects, don’t stand on my account.” 

Tao Ran sat up, and Fei Du settled at the edge of the sofa, allowing Luo Wenzhou to set his crutches on the floor for him. 

“How are you, Feishi’r?” Luo Wenzhou took his hand and inspected it carefully.

“Fine. It’s barely hurting anymore.”

“And your leg?”

“Also fine.”

Relief swept through Luo Wenzhou like a wave for the second time, leaving a need to start a lecture in its wake. He tugged Fei Du towards him by the hand. “How many times have I told you not to leave your things hanging off the edge of the table?”

Fei Du looked helplessly at Tao Ran. 

“Don’t look at him,” said Luo Wenzhou. “Tell me, where did you leave that cup this time?”

“I didn’t,” Fei Du protested. “I was holding it—it just slipped.”

Luo Wenzhou looked at him suspiciously, waiting to see if he’d reveal anything more. 

“It slipped and Luo Yiguo tried drinking the spilt milk, and I fell while trying to stop him.”

Luo Wenzhou let go of Fei Du in favour of grabbing the cat. “Stew for dinner tonight,” he said, holding it up. “I’ve had enough of this nuisance.”

Luo Yiguo meowed and tried wriggling unsuccessfully out of his hold. Fei Du traitorously reached across to free him, but lost balance and fell onto Tao Ran just as Tao Ran’s phone chimed. 

“Careful, careful—” he steadied Fei Du as he reached for his phone. “Oh,” he said, tips of his ears turning pink. “I— I have to leave.”

Both Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou turned to him like a pair of hounds. Even Luo Yiguo stilled, ears pricked.

Tao Ran studiously avoided their gazes as he tried to disentangle himself. “I have to leave,” he said again.

“So you said, loverboy,” said Luo Wenzhou. “Where are you taking your dear lady this time?”

“Nowhere—I’m leaving now, goodbye.” 

“That’s a shame. A goddess put on earth has taken a fancy to you and you take her nowhere.” Luo Wenzhou shook his head sadly, delighting in how flustered Tao Ran was starting to look as he hunted for his bag.

Fei Du made a disapproving sound when Tao Ran found it and slung it over his shoulder. 

“She must really like you if she wants to meet you even after seeing that bag.”

“Shut up, both of you.”

“I expect a report by noon tomorrow, Tao Ran,” Luo Wenzhou called. 

Tao Ran flipped him off as he shut the door behind him. Luo Wenzhou laughed fondly. 

“Ah, the kids grow up so quickly.”

“Look—” Fei Du nudged him with his phone. “Do you think she’d like this?” 

His thumb hovered over the ‘Buy Now’ button to some kind of concert.

“She did invite him to some water acrobatics thing sometime back,” said Luo Wenzhou.

“Should I buy them the tickets? I don’t really trust Tao Ran in this matter.”

“You’re the one with experience with women, darling, not me.”

“She’s just a person, it’s no different.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Luo Wenzhou stood up and stretched. “Pork for dinner?”

“From that uncle’s restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. But can we eat your rice? I don’t like the way he cooks it.”

Luo Wenzhou’s heart flooded with fondness. He caught Fei Du’s face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks, and kissed the top of his head. “As you wish, your highness.” 

“Hands off.” Fei Du batted Luo Wenzhou’s reaching paws away and leaned back against the pillow.

“What? Why?”

“Think about what you did today.”

“What I did?”

Fei Du smiled, savouring the turning of the tables. “Take your time. I’ve slept a lot today, I can wait all night.”

“I… didn’t pick up your call?” said Luo Wenzhou.

“No, you were busy. I can’t blame you for that.”

Luo Wenzhou frowned. “I didn’t get you chestnuts on the way back?”

“Oh, good one. You can add that to the list.”

“List?! There’s a list?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not long. You’re a good boy.”

Fei Du’s breath got knocked out of his lungs as Luo Wenzhou rolled onto him, trapping him against the mattress. 

“Ah— resorting to violence so quickly?” Fei Du tutted, winding his arms around Luo Wenzhou’s neck and pulling him closer. He laughed softly into the kiss. 

“No no, you can’t distract me, darling,” he said, catching Luo Wenzhou by the chin and holding his face just out of reach. “Keep guessing.”

Luo Wenzhou made an impatient sound. “I don’t know!”

“You do, just think.”

“Give me a hint.”

“Afternoon.”

Fei Du watched Luo Wenzhou’s expression go from frustrated to confused to surprised and then, very quickly, sheepish. 

Fei Du started to laugh, and Luo Wenzhou buried his face in the pillow beside Fei Du’s head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I should’ve known it was you. That sounded just a bit off for Tao Ran.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

Luo Wenzhou tapped the side of his head lightly without looking up. “As if I’ll tell you, rascal.”

Fei Du turned to kiss his temple. Luo Wenzhou lifted his head to look at him and gently brushed his hair off his face. 

“What happened? It’s not like you to drop things like that.”

“It was just an accident.”

“Fei Du.”

Fei Du closed his eyes, unable to bear Luo Wenzhou’s gaze. His eyes, starting to crinkle in the corners from laugh lines, reminded him too much of Mu Xioaqing’s. Exhaustion settled in his bones again, sealing his jaw shut. 

His eyes burned when he felt Luo Wenzhou kiss him on the cheek and turn them both onto their sides, and he wrapped his arms around Luo Wenzhou more tightly. 

“Rest, my little troublemaker. You’ll be fine,” Luo Wenzhou murmured. 

Fei Du pressed his face into Luo Wenzhou’s chest and for one night, allowed himself to believe him. 

Just one night.