Simply getting the nearly one-meter-ninety giant out of the car and half-carrying him up six flights had left Jian Ming breathless, unable to utter a complete sentence. He fumbled for the keys of a dazed Lu Heng, opened the door, and dragged him onto the bedroom "You’re a sandbag, aren’t you? So heavy." After catching his breath, he stood up and headed for the kitchen.

When Jian Ming stood at the kitchen entrance, he had mentally prepared himself for a lack of supplies. What he hadn't expected was for a house that was clearly lived in daily to be utterly devoid of anything. The kitchen was conspicuously empty, and opening the refrigerator revealed nothing but rows of bottled water and a few slices of lemon, God knows how old. This sight made Jian Ming seriously question how Lu Heng had grown into his current self over the years. He shook his head, helplessly retrieving two bottles of water from the fridge.

After much effort, he finally unearthed a small pot from a kitchen cabinet, seemingly used for instant noodles, with a yellow, unidentifiable film clinging to it. Jian Ming shook his head again, thinking, "Whatever." He took the pot to the sink and meticulously washed it inside and out with clean water, then heated it over a small flame before confidently pouring in the purified water to warm.

By the time he had everything ready and returned to the room, Lu Heng was sprawled out, fast asleep. Jian Ming placed the water cup on the bedside table, took out the medicine he’d bought earlier from the pharmacy, and turned to nudge him.

"Lu Heng, Lu Heng…"

"Hmm?" Lu Heng mumbled softly but made no other movement.

Jian Ming increased his force and patted him, "Hey, take your medicine first."

The pat startled the snoring Lu Heng. "Ah! Damn it!"

"Damn what? Take your medicine." Jian Ming held the water cup in his left hand and the medicine in his right, looking at him.

Lu Heng squinted, asking vaguely, "What medicine?"

"Fever reducer." He then thrust the medicine into Lu Heng’s hand. "Didn’t you say you didn’t have a fever? It’s thirty-nine degrees, and you still refuse to go to the hospital." Jian Ming couldn’t understand why he had bothered to bring him all the way back. When he had taken Lu Heng’s temperature in the car, it confirmed he had a fever. Witnessing him gradually become groggy after all his chatter, Jian Ming had wanted to drive to the hospital, but the feverish, red-faced man still had the strength to struggle and refuse to go.

"No!" Hearing Jian Ming mention "hospital," Lu Heng instantly became more alert.

"Then take the medicine." Jian Ming watched him obediently put the pill in his mouth and handed him the water cup.

Lu Heng quickly swallowed the medicine. "Satisfied?"

"Lie down. Sleep." Jian Ming commanded, raising an eyebrow.

"I..." Lu Heng suddenly wanted to take a shower; he felt sticky all over.

"You what? Just lie down and sleep." Jian Ming took the cup to the kitchen to pour him another glass of water. "What are you doing?" he asked, returning to find Lu Heng swaying, trying to get out of bed.

"I want to…" Before he could finish, he pitched forward. Jian Ming quickly stepped forward, set the cup on the nightstand, and caught Lu Heng with both hands.

Seeing him act so stubbornly, Jian Ming was furious. "Why are you running around instead of resting properly?"

"I… I… wasn't running around," Lu Heng felt utterly useless. Such a small fever had seemingly wiped out his daily 8-kilometer running成果, and now he needed to lean on someone else to support his weak body.

"Can you just listen for once? Get back in bed." Jian Ming's emotions fluctuated slightly due to Lu Heng’s stubbornness. After forcefully helping him back into bed, he gently asked, "What do you want to do?"

"I just want to take a damn shower," Lu Heng retorted stubbornly, but hearing Jian Ming’s concern warmed him inexplicably, and his face grew redder.

"Such a fuss over a fever. You’re like this, can’t you just wait until tomorrow to wash up?" Watching the big man suddenly act like a stubborn child, Jian Ming felt an urge to laugh.

"How was I supposed to know I wouldn’t even have the strength to stand up?" Lu Heng mumbled softly, then gave up and adjusted his position in bed.

"Wait here." Jian Ming got up and walked to the bathroom.

Lu Heng wondered what Jian Ming wanted him to wait for, curiously watching his retreating figure. A moment later, Jian Ming returned with a warm, damp towel and stood by the bed.

"What are you doing?" Lu Heng stared at him.

"Wipe yourself." Jian Ming took the towel and patted Lu Heng’s face. He wasn't used to serving others, so his movements were a bit clumsy. Lu Heng's eyebrows furrowed as Jian Ming haphazardly wiped him.

"Damn it, can’t you be gentler? I'm a patient, after all."

"Oh, you remember you’re a patient? That’s rare." Jian Ming chuckled coldly, then turned to rinse the towel in the bathroom again. When he returned, he gazed intently at Lu Heng.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lu Heng’s throat felt tight.

"Take off my clothes," Jian Ming said expressionlessly, gesturing with the towel in his hand.

"What?!?" Lu Heng’s already spinning head felt like it had been run over by a steamroller and suddenly split open. He glanced at Jian Ming’s light blue shirt, two buttons undone at the collar, revealing his fair, bright neck. Lu Heng, dumbfounded, swallowed hard.

"I told you to take off this shirt," Jian Ming said, tugging at the crew-neck shirt Lu Heng was wearing.

"Damn it, can you stop talking in riddles?" Lu Heng was too weak to shout, but his hoarse complaint sounded unexpectedly petulant.

Annoyed, he ripped off his shirt and held out his hand to Jian Ming, "Give it to me, I’ll do it myself."

Jian Ming saw a muscular body revealed before him and couldn’t tear his gaze away. He let Lu Heng snatch the towel from his hand. Under the dim bedside lamp, Lu Heng hastily wiped himself. Jian Ming unconsciously followed the direction of his hand, his eyes shifting, his feet involuntarily rooted to the bedside. As Lu Heng’s hand reached around to wipe his back, Jian Ming inadvertently noticed a dark, long mark extending from his side to his spine.

"Lie on your stomach; I’ll help you." Jian Ming was intensely curious about that mark. Using the excuse of helping him wipe his inaccessible back, he pressed Lu Heng’s body down, took the towel, and placed it over the gruesome, dark brown scar. "…Does it hurt?" Jian Ming’s voice was hoarse and restrained, as if reliving the scar’s initial appearance. His heart suddenly ached, torn between tenderness and helplessness.

"What?" Lu Heng didn’t understand.

"This…" Jian Ming touched the raised, fleshy scar. "Does it hurt?" If he could hear his own voice right then, he would never admit such a soft, watery tone came from his mouth. In fact, when it came to Lu Heng, he had lost his composure more than once.

After a long silence, Lu Heng finally spoke: "It hurts, but my heart hurts more." His voice was so low that it was barely audible, but Jian Ming heard it. In the dim light, Lu Heng slightly raised his head, his cheeks pale and cold, a faint glint in his eyes. "Assistant Jian, are you done wiping?"

Jian Ming’s facial muscles twitched violently. Before he could react, Lu Heng flipped over onto his back. Feeling uncomfortable with his damp jeans clinging to his legs from the afternoon rain, he quickly pulled them off, flung one leg onto the floor, and burrowed under the thin quilt.

Jian Ming said nothing, silently turning and entering the bathroom.

The silence lasted for several minutes, then Lu Heng’s muffled voice came from the room, "Jian Ming, I’m fine. You… should go back."

Jian Ming composed himself, walked out of the bathroom, picked up the pants Lu Heng had tossed on the floor, and draped them over the foot of the bed. "Don’t think about anything. Close your eyes and rest. I’ll leave when you’re asleep." The cool tone surprisingly gave Lu Heng a sense of inexplicable peace. He was truly exhausted. His eyes closed, and he gradually drifted off to sleep.

Seeing him asleep, Jian Ming let out a sigh of relief. He looked around the room where he stood—a bedroom crammed with belongings, yet permeated by a hollow sense of loneliness. Had the man lying on the bed spent three years in this fortress-like room? On the cabinet stood a photo of him smiling foolishly, embracing his mother, a stark contrast to his present desolation. Jian Ming picked up the photo, his thumb caressing the smiling face, ripples stirring deep within him. He recalled his own hellish teenage years, and the empathetic pain instantly returned, gripping every cell and inch of his skin, a tearing sensation spreading through him.

Lu Heng, I will definitely make you well. Jian Ming silently vowed to the person in the photograph.

Just then, a whimpering sound came from behind him. Jian Ming quickly put down the photo and approached Lu Heng. He thought Lu Heng wanted water and was about to go to the kitchen to boil some, when he heard Lu Heng murmur a few broken words in his sleep: "Don’t… Mom… No…" His brows were tightly furrowed, his expression terrified and uneasy. He curled up on the large bed, trembling, his head shaking incessantly, and a few tears even escaped his closed eyes.

Was he having another nightmare?

Seeing the beads of sweat on Lu Heng’s forehead and his veiny hands clutching the quilt, Jian Ming stepped onto the bed and embraced the nightmare-ridden Lu Heng. He gently lifted Lu Heng’s head to rest in the crook of his arm, and with one hand, gently patted his shoulder. "It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s all over…" He comforted him softly, as if comforting his past self. Lu Heng’s feverish limbs twitched in spasms, his brows deeply furrowed. Though there was no sign of him waking, his murmurs grew softer, and his body gradually relaxed and calmed down with Jian Ming’s soothing.

Jian Ming didn’t let go, half-hugging him until he fell into a deep sleep again. After an unknown amount of time, Jian Ming withdrew his hand and pulled out his phone, which showed 1:30 AM.

Throughout that long night, Lu Heng had several unconscious nightmares. Jian Ming didn’t wake him, patiently comforting him each time. Each time, Lu Heng calmed down against Jian Ming’s chest, eventually gripping Jian Ming’s arm tightly, as if clinging to dear life, and never letting go.

Morning arrived sooner than Jian Ming expected. He hadn't slept, constantly monitoring Lu Heng. Three hours had passed since Lu Heng’s last nightmare. Now, Lu Heng was in a deep sleep, his brows unfurrowed, looking as serene as an infant in swaddling. Jian Ming knew the tormenting night could finally end. He felt Lu Heng’s forehead, confirming the fever had significantly subsided, then slowly got up and went to the kitchen to boil another kettle of water. In between, he carefully inspected the kitchen. Perhaps due to the better light of day, he was pleasantly surprised to find rice in a lower cabinet. After boiling the water, he immediately rinsed the rice and began cooking porridge in the only pot available.

Bringing fresh warm water, Jian Ming gently patted Lu Heng’s face. While Lu Heng was still groggy, he fed him another dose of medicine, letting him continue to sleep undisturbed.

Once everything was settled, Jian Ming suddenly realized his limbs were aching terribly. He rotated his neck and stretched his arms and legs, thinking he’d leave once the porridge was ready. Lu Heng’s phone, left on the bedside table, suddenly rang. Fearing the ringtone would wake Lu Heng, he quickly picked up the phone and left the bedroom.

The screen displayed "Li Xiaohua." He remembered the loud phone call from the first time he met Lu Heng. After a moment of hesitation, he answered.

"Hello, Boss, we’re not taking the day off today. I’ll pick you up in an hour, alright?" A flattering, obsequious voice came from the other end of the line.

Jian Ming chuckled inwardly. It seemed Lu Heng’s habit of taking days off when it rained was well-known.

"Hello, Lu Heng genuinely needs to take a day off today," Jian Ming said politely and calmly, a slight upward curve at the corner of his lips.