The hospital corridors still smelled faintly of disinfectant, but Qing Yun felt lighter with each step. The paperwork was signed, the nurse handed her the discharge slip, and the weight of hospital blankets no longer pinned her down.
Gu Ze Yan appeared exactly when she finished—of course he did. He always had this uncanny timing, like he had a radar set only for her. Without a word, he took her small overnight bag straight from her hand.
"I can carry it myself," she protested, reaching for the strap.
"You already carried too much," he said, eyes calm. "Let me."
The bag swung easily in his grip, a feather compared to the certainty in his voice. Qing Yun rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, but her chest warmed despite herself.
He walked half a step behind her, his hand hovering near her back—not touching, but always ready. She didn't look back, but she could feel it, like the shadow of warmth that would catch her if she stumbled.
--
The car hummed to life, slipping into the city streets. Ze Yan's profile looked sharper under the sunlight slicing through the windshield.
"You're on paid leave this week," he said casually, like announcing the weather.
Qing Yun blinked. "What?"
"I already spoke to the bookstore manager," he continued, tone calm, "and called your tutoring students. You won't be working."
Her jaw dropped. "You… WHAT?!"
"Mm." He tapped the steering wheel with elegant fingers. "You need rest."
"I don't! Even the doctor said I'm fine."
"Doctors lie sometimes." His lips tugged slightly, as though amused at his own nonsense.
She gaped. "That's… that's not how hospitals work, Mr. Gu!"
He finally glanced at her, his gaze warm, steady. "Doesn't matter. I'll be your doctor this week."
Her heart did a ridiculous skip. She crossed her arms, turning toward the window, muttering, "Hopeless."
--
They drove for a while before Qing Yun noticed the route was wrong. Familiar streets disappeared, replaced by wide avenues lined with elite apartment towers.
"Wait." She frowned. "This isn't my home."
"No," Ze Yan agreed calmly. "It is, for this week."
Her mouth fell open. "You can't just abduct me like this."
He didn't even blink. "Si Yao already gave me permission."
"She WHAT?!"
He pulled up at the gated entrance, lips curving faintly. "She said, 'Please take care of my sister. She won't rest if she's home. Drag her if you must.' Very sensible advice."
Qing Yun groaned, sinking into her seat. "Betrayed by my own little sister…"
Ze Yan's smile deepened as he parked. "You really should choose your allies better."
They stopped at a high-end supermarket on the way. Ze Yan pushed the cart, tall and composed, while Qing Yun trailed beside him.
She slipped instant noodles and cheap biscuits into the cart.
He quietly replaced them with imported ramen and artisan cookies.
She sneaked the cheap ones back in when he turned his head.
By the third round, they both caught each other in the act. Silence. Then laughter spilled between them, echoing down the aisle.
Ze Yan reached over and ruffled her hair lightly. "Hopeless."
Her cheeks warmed. She swatted his hand, grumbling, but the corners of her lips refused to flatten.
Back at the apartment, the air filled with the aroma of garlic and ginger. Qing Yun leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching Gu Ze Yan roll up his sleeves and chop vegetables with precise, practiced strokes.
"Never thought the great CEO would know how to slice vegetables," she teased.
He glanced up, eyes glinting. "I can do many things. You'll find out."
Her cheeks flared at the tone. She turned away quickly, pretending to study the fridge magnets.
Dinner was warm and filling—two dishes, one soup, simple but delicious. She felt her stomach sigh in contentment. Automatically, she stood to clear the plates.
But Ze Yan intercepted, drying her damp hands with a towel. His touch was steady, lingering just a little too long.
"You've done enough," he said softly. "Rest."
Her heart gave a treacherous thump. She muttered, "Yes, Boss," before retreating to the sofa.
Qing Yun called her sister. The screen lit with Si Yao's bright face, and the sisters' laughter filled the living room.
"You traitor," Qing Yun accused, half laughing, half sulking. "You gave him permission to abduct me."
"It's for your own good!" Si Yao's voice rang clear. "Finally, someone can force you to rest."
Ze Yan pretended not to listen from the kitchen, but every ripple of Qing Yun's laughter pulled at him, settling in his chest like warmth he never wanted to lose.
Later, Ze Yan led her down the hallway. He opened the door to the guest bedroom, revealing a freshly decorated haven—crisp new sheets, a vase of flowers, warm lamplight, even books stacked neatly on the nightstand.
Qing Yun's mouth fell open. "Strange… I've been here so many times, and suddenly this room turns into a princess suite. Don't tell me you planned this abduction all along?"
He only smiled faintly, ignoring her accusation, and adjusted the blanket edge with careful precision.
"Goodnight, Qing Yun," he said warmly, lingering a second too long at the doorway before turning away.
She sat on the bed after he left, fingers brushing the soft sheets, cheeks faintly pink. The sarcasm still sat on her lips, but her heart… her heart felt unexpectedly steady.