Fu Jingshen's fingertips still rested on the pendant at his neck, the cool metal now warmed by body heat. Lu Chenzhou kept his head down, breathing in the clean scent of cedarwood mixed with a faint hint of tobacco—lingering from his earlier work in the study.
"My assistant checked the room at the convalescent home. It has a private garden. Yao Yao should like it," Fu Jingshen said, withdrawing his hand and picking up a glass of water from the table. His Adam's apple bobbed clearly under the light. "You can stay there for a few days too. No need to be cooped up in the villa all the time."
Lu Chenzhou made a noncommittal sound, not looking up. The thorn in his heart still ached dully. The more considerate Fu Jingshen acted, the more it felt like a sugar coating hiding something he couldn't decipher.
He thought of the young man in the white T-shirt from the photo, the light in his eyes brighter than the sun at any convalescent home. Was this how Fu Jingshen had been with him back then? Remembering his preferred environment, arranging everything in advance?
The thought made his fingers go cold, and he instinctively tightened his grip on the glass.
Fu Jingshen seemed to sense his tension, turning his head slightly. "Are you unwell?"
"No." Lu Chenzhou avoided his gaze, placing the glass back on the table. "Just tired."
"If you're tired, rest." Fu Jingshen's tone was unreadable. "I'll join you after finishing these emails."
Lu Chenzhou stood up, his footsteps heavy. Pausing at the bedroom door, he glanced back into the living room. Fu Jingshen had already opened his laptop, the screen's glow casting his face in half-light, half-shadow, as if concealing countless thoughts.
He still didn't ask.
Lying in bed, Lu Chenzhou stared at the ceiling. The pendant swayed gently with his breath, the cool gemstone against his skin a constant reminder.
Fu Jingshen had indeed been different lately. No longer resorting to threats of the collar or its shock. He'd even clumsily patted his back during sleepless nights, remembered his dislike for cilantro, specifically instructing Aunt Liu to leave it out of his meals.
There had even been a fleeting moment of confusion, a thought that perhaps this kind of life could be endured. Fu Jingshen's control was a tight net, but the occasional sunlight filtering through its gaps was something he couldn't help but crave.
But that photo was like a block of ice, instantly freezing any budding warmth.
He remembered Fu Jingshen's words from their first meeting in the alley behind the club: "Come with me. I'll clear your debt." Back then, it had felt like pure humiliation. Now, he wondered—had Fu Jingshen seen him as that young man's shadow from the very beginning?
*Click.*
The door lock turned softly. Fu Jingshen walked in. He took off his suit jacket, draping it over a chair, and loosened two buttons on his shirt, revealing his defined collarbones.
Lu Chenzhou immediately closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
Fu Jingshen walked to the bedside and stood there for a moment, seemingly watching him. Then, Lu Chenzhou felt the duvet being gently pulled up, covering his exposed shoulder.
In the darkness, he could hear Fu Jingshen's breathing draw closer, finally stopping near his neck. Warm breath ghosted over his skin, carrying the familiar cedarwood scent, making the fine hairs on his body stand on end.
Fu Jingshen's fingertips lightly brushed the pendant at his neck, the touch gentle, as if handling something fragile and precious.
"Don't overthink things," his voice was very low, carrying a barely perceptible roughness. "I won't let you be wronged."
Lu Chenzhou's heart jumped, and he nearly opened his eyes. Was he talking to him? Did he know he was awake?
Before he could ponder it, Fu Jingshen had already straightened up and walked into the bathroom. The sound of running water started, cutting off the subtle atmosphere between them.
Lu Chenzhou opened his eyes, staring at the blurred shadows cast on the frosted glass of the bathroom door, feeling something block his chest.
What was Fu Jingshen really thinking?
If he was just a replacement, why say such things? If not, why hide that photo so deeply, and react with such tension when it was discovered?
The water stopped. Fu Jingshen walked out in a robe, his hair dripping. He lay down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly.
Lu Chenzhou held his breath, his body rigid, maintaining his position with his back turned.
After a while, Fu Jingshen's arm rested lightly on his waist, cool from his recent shower. "Still awake?"
Lu Chenzhou didn't move, didn't speak.
Fu Jingshen didn't ask again, just pulled him closer, his chin resting on the top of Lu Chenzhou's head. "Sleep early."
The warm breath against his hair carried a scent that felt oddly safe. Lu Chenzhou's taut nerves gradually relaxed. The fatigue of the past days washed over him, his eyelids growing heavy.
In his drowsy state, he felt Fu Jingshen's lips brush against the nape of his neck, light as a feather.
"…Won't let you end up like him."
Fu Jingshen's voice was as low as a dream-murmur. Lu Chenzhou didn't catch the words clearly, nor did he have the energy to think about them. Before consciousness fully sank into darkness, he had only one thought:
Forget it. Don't think about it.
Whatever Fu Jingshen's reasons were, at least for now, he was still here.
The next morning, Lu Chenzhou was woken by sunlight. The space beside him was empty, the duvet neatly folded as if no one had slept there.
He sat up and saw a glass of water on the nightstand, next to a note in Fu Jingshen's bold, flowing script: *Meeting this morning. Back at noon to see Yao Yao together.*
Lu Chenzhou picked up the note, his fingers tracing the words. The thorn in his heart ached again.
He remembered the handwriting of the young man in the photo, seen on a note tucked between the pictures—neat and elegant, completely different from Fu Jingshen's flamboyant style.
Did Fu Jingshen think of that person when he wrote this note?
He crumpled the paper into a ball, threw it in the wastebasket, and got out of bed.
The car ride to the hospital was quiet. Fu Jingshen read documents; Lu Chenzhou watched the streets flash by outside the window, each lost in their own thoughts.
In the hospital room, Lu Yao was sitting up in bed reading, her color much improved. Seeing them enter, she immediately put the book down with a smile. "Brother. Mr. Fu."
"How are you feeling?" Lu Chenzhou walked over and felt her forehead. Her temperature was normal.
"Much better! The doctor said I can be moved to a general ward in a few days." Lu Yao's smile reached her eyes. She looked at Fu Jingshen. "Mr. Fu, thank you for arranging the convalescent home. The nurses told me the environment is wonderful."
"I'm glad you like it." Fu Jingshen's tone was uncharacteristically gentle. "Once you're transferred, your brother can stay with you for a few days."
"Really?" Lu Yao's eyes lit up as she looked at Lu Chenzhou. "Brother, will you stay with me?"
Before Lu Chenzhou could answer, Fu Jingshen spoke. "He will."
Lu Chenzhou glanced at Fu Jingshen, who was looking back at him, his eyes leaving no room for refusal. He could only nod. "Yes, I'll stay with you."
Lu Yao laughed happily, chatting with Lu Chenzhou for a while, then discussing her treatment with Fu Jingshen. The atmosphere was uncommonly relaxed.
As they were leaving, Lu Yao suddenly called out to Lu Chenzhou. "Brother, wait. I have something for you."
Lu Chenzhou stopped. Fu Jingshen walked out first, waiting at the end of the corridor.
"What is it?" Lu Chenzhou approached the bed.
Lu Yao pulled a small, handmade doll from under her pillow. It was made from a sock, the stitching crooked but clearly made with care. "This is for you. The nurse taught me how to make it. She said it brings good luck."
Lu Chenzhou took the doll, warmth spreading through his chest. "Thank you, Yao Yao."
"Brother," Lu Yao looked at him, her eyes worried. "You and Mr. Fu… did you argue? You seem unhappy."
Lu Chenzhou was taken aback that his sister had noticed. "No, you're overthinking it. I'm just worried about your illness."
"That's good." Lu Yao relaxed. "Mr. Fu seems a bit stern, but he's truly been very good to me. Brother, please don't fight with him, okay?"
Lu Chenzhou ruffled her hair, his throat tight. "I know."
Outside the room, Fu Jingshen was leaning against the wall waiting for him. His gaze fell on the doll in Lu Chenzhou's hand, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "She gave that to you?"
"Mm." Lu Chenzhou stuffed the doll into his pocket. "Let's go."
They walked side by side towards the elevators. The corridor was quiet, filled only with the sound of their footsteps.
Just before reaching the elevators, Fu Jingshen spoke suddenly. "The photo in the study…"
Lu Chenzhou's steps faltered, his heart leaping into his throat. Was he going to explain?
Fu Jingshen looked at his tense profile, silent for a few seconds, but ultimately only said, "Don't touch it again."
Lu Chenzhou's heart sank instantly.
No explanation. No reassurance. Just a cold warning.
He looked up at Fu Jingshen, the last bit of hope in his eyes extinguishing. "I understand."
He turned and entered the elevator, his back to Fu Jingshen, not looking at him again.
The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off their view of each other. Lu Chenzhou looked at his faint reflection in the metal doors, at the sapphire pendant around his neck, and suddenly felt utterly weary.