Work Text:
Yuan Hong could not remember the last time he had been this angry.
It was not the kind of anger that made him raise his voice or lose control. Quite the opposite. The angrier he became, the calmer and quieter he grew.
It was something he had learned a long time ago.
Emotions were a luxury for people who could afford to make mistakes.
He could not.
That was why his hands remained steady as he treated Zhao Shaoshang’s wound. That was why his voice stayed calm when he told him not to move. That was why his face revealed nothing as he checked whether the bandage was becoming stained with blood.
But Zhao Shaoshang had known him for long enough. Long enough to notice the things others would have missed.
He noticed the way Yuan Hong’s jaw was clenched too tightly.
He noticed that Yuan Hong had not looked him in the eyes for several minutes.
He noticed that every time Yuan Hong’s fingers touched the fabric of the bandage, he did so more carefully than necessary.
As if he was afraid that even the slightest pain he caused would become another thing he should blame himself for.
“Yuan Hong.”
Shaoshang said his name calmly.
But Yuan Hong did not answer.
That alone was an answer.
Zhao Shaoshang let out a quiet sigh.
“If you keep glaring at this wound any harder, it might heal itself out of fear.”
Normally, Yuan Hong would have responded with something cold. Perhaps he would have said that his jokes were inappropriate. Perhaps he would have reminded him that an injured person should rest instead of trying to distract him.
But this time, he remained silent.
That was worse.
Zhao Shaoshang tilted his head, watching him carefully.
“You’re angry.”
His voice was soft, rising and falling gently, somehow matching the rhythm of Yuan Hong’s heartbeat.
“No.”
The policeman’s answer came too quickly.
Zhao Shaoshang raised an eyebrow.
“So you are angry.”
He stated it rather than asked.
Yuan Hong paused.
For a brief moment, he looked as though he wanted to deny it. As if he was searching for the right words that would allow him to hide everything behind that calm expression once again.
But this time, he did not find them quickly enough.
“I should have been faster. You shouldn’t have…”
His voice was quiet when he spoke.
Zhao Shaoshang stopped smiling.
That was not the answer he had expected.
“Yuan Hong…”
He sighed softly and reached out for the man’s hand, but Yuan Hong avoided his touch.
“If I had been faster, you wouldn’t have been injured.”
Yuan Hong’s fingers tightened around the piece of cloth.
“If I had judged the situation better, you wouldn’t have had to…”
He stopped.
He did not finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
But he also couldn’t.
Zhao Shaoshang understood.
If he had not followed Yuan Hong, he would not have been injured. But Shaoshang did not want to stay behind. He wanted to stand beside him. He wanted to help him.
That was exactly why he got hurt.
For a moment, the room fell completely silent.
Not long ago, they had been fighting for their lives.
Not long ago, the blade could have struck not his shoulder, but somewhere much deeper.
Not long ago, Yuan Hong had watched the sword move toward Zhao Shaoshang and, for a fraction of a second, believed that he would not make it in time.
That single moment had been enough.
One moment in which he saw the possibility of losing someone who truly mattered to him.
Yuan Hong had not been injured at all, but the wound on Shaoshang’s body — even the smallest possibility of losing him — hurt far more than if he himself had been the one bleeding.
He would rather have been injured in Shaoshang’s place.
Zhao Shaoshang looked at him more gently.
“It was my decision.”
Yuan Hong looked up.
“What?” Yuan Hong snapped, unable to control the irritation that slipped into his voice.
But Shaoshang did not even flinch at his tone.
“I followed you because I wanted to.”
“I asked you to come with me.” Yuan Hong argued.
“No.”
Zhao Shaoshang shook his head.
“I went because I chose to. If I didn’t want to go with you, you wouldn’t have been able to force me. Do you understand?”
Those simple words made Yuan Hong fall silent.
Zhao Shaoshang often said things that other people were afraid to say.
Sometimes because he was too brave.
Sometimes because he was too reckless.
And sometimes simply because he did not understand why people would hide the truth when it was still the truth.
“You cannot take responsibility for every single thing that happens around you,” Zhao Shaoshang said.
Yuan Hong looked at him with a trace of irritation.
“You say that as if you don’t do the same thing.”
Zhao Shaoshang opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Because unfortunately, he knew Yuan Hong was right.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other in silence.
Then Zhao Shaoshang smiled slightly.
“So you admit that we are alike?”
He asked, amused.
“No.”
Yuan Hong denied it immediately.
“That is exactly what someone similar to me would say.”
Yuan Hong sighed.
It was almost impossible to notice.
But Zhao Shaoshang noticed.
He always noticed.
He was an expert when it came to observing Yuan Hong and understanding the things he refused to say aloud.
Later, after the wound had already been treated, Yuan Hong still did not leave.
Zhao Shaoshang noticed.
But he said nothing.
Normally, he would probably have taken the opportunity to tease him.
He would have said something about how the great detective apparently had no other responsibilities besides looking after one injured man.
But this time, he didn’t.
Because he could see the exhaustion in Yuan Hong’s eyes.
He could see the relief that the man refused to show.
He could see someone who, from the moment the attack happened, had not allowed himself even once to think about how differently everything could have ended.
“Yuan Hong.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m fine. No one is going to suddenly attack me. You can relax.”
He said it while breathing calmly.
The smell of disinfectant was the reason Shaoshang had never liked hospitals. His father had never minded that, and because of that, Shaoshang had never truly needed to stay in one. Even when he was sick, a doctor would simply come to the estate and take care of him.
But now…
Shaoshang had not uttered a single complaint.
He had simply allowed himself to be treated and stitched up in silence.
He had waited patiently until it was over.
“I know.”
Yuan Hong agreed.
“The Japanese man who did this to me is dead. You killed him.”
Shaoshang said it.
Yuan Hong nodded, agreeing with him, although he still did not know what Shaoshang was trying to say.
“So stop looking like you still want to kill him.”
This time, Yuan Hong looked at him.
For a moment, he seemed surprised.
And then, to Zhao Shaoshang’s astonishment, the corner of his mouth moved.
It was not a smile.
Not yet.
But it was close.
“You’re injured, and you’re still trying to lecture me.”
“Someone has to.”
“You should rest.”
“You should stop blaming yourself.”
Silence fell between them again.
But this time, it was different.
Lighter.
Yuan Hong looked at him for a long moment.
Then, very carefully, he adjusted the blanket covering Zhao Shaoshang.
Such a simple gesture.
So insignificant.
And yet Zhao Shaoshang felt that it said more than all the words Yuan Hong could never bring himself to speak.
He was not worried about the wound.
Not about the blood.
Not about the pain.
He was afraid of losing him.
And perhaps that was why, for the first time in a long while, Zhao Shaoshang did not make a joke.
He simply let him stay.
Let him take care of him, because he could see that Yuan Hong needed it far more than he did.
He did not mind being spoiled a little, as long as it came from Yuan Hong’s love for him — not from guilt.