Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The meal was strangely awkward.

Fang Bingxue kept feeling that Zhou Xu had something to ask him but was struggling to bring it up. So, he occasionally said a few words, skirting around the topic, as if on the verge of saying, "The weather's nice today—oh, by the way, I have something to ask you."

But by the time they were almost done eating, Zhou Xu still hadn’t actually asked.

The dining table was square. He and Zhou Xu sat facing each other, with A Liang between them. Probably out of concern for Zhou Xu’s illness, the dishes were all bland home-style fare without any chili—stir-fried vegetables, thin egg pancakes, and porridge—easy on the stomach and easy to digest.

The two of them didn’t talk much while eating, but A Liang "talked" anyway, waving his chopsticks animatedly. Zhou Xu translated beside him, "Nothing important—just that he saw some sparrows brawling earlier."

Fang Bingxue laughed.

But soon, the laughter sat oddly with him.

Because this scene was too much like when he was in elementary school, sitting between his parents at the dinner table, babbling about his day. Doctor Fang would respond with distracted grunts, while Teacher Qin would laugh beside him and say, "Stop talking and eat already."

The weird comparison jolted him, and he quickly shook his head, chalking it up to homesickness and making random associations. He decided to call his parents that evening to pester the two of them.

Zhou Xu didn’t have much of an appetite and soon set down his chopsticks.

Fang Bingxue swallowed his food. "You finished? Wanna head out?"

If they were heading to the clinic for an IV, they’d need to eat something beforehand to line their stomachs. Fang Bingxue really liked the egg pancakes—barely seasoned with just a sprinkle of finely chopped scallions, paper-thin, nearly see-through when lifted with chopsticks.

Zhou Xu pulled out a cigarette case and set it on the table. "I wanna ask you something."

Fang Bingxue braced himself—this was it!

Zhou Xu flicked open the case with his thumb, took out a cigarette, and glanced at Fang Bingxue. "So… how’s that guy you’re involved with doing?"

His tone was casual, no nosiness, no digging, as if he were just shooting the breeze with a friend after a meal. It was precisely because it felt so "natural" that Fang Bingxue was thrown for a loop.

Fang Bingxue blinked in confusion. *Who?*

Zhou Xu put the cigarette back. "Forget it, just wondering."

Only then did Fang Bingxue realize he was referring to the misunderstanding from their first meeting. "Oh, you mean him?"

Zhou Xu gave a dismissive "Hn."

After days of rain, the air these past two days had been unusually clear and fresh, carrying a rare, unusual wetness for the northwest—damp but oddly stuffy.

Fang Bingxue hesitated, unsure how to respond, while Zhou Xu across from him seemed bored, playing with a lighter, his thumb scraping against the flint wheel aimlessly.

This dude had ants in his pants. Even the overhead light was something Zhou Xu had made—a string of beer bottles secured with wire, the bulb nestled inside the pale green glass, throwing soft light around.

Fang Bingxue cleared his throat.

Life had taught him one hard lesson: once you start lying, you’ll need a mountain of lies to keep it buried. Fang Bingxue wasn’t ready to talk about this yet because explaining it would mean revealing everything. So he dodged lamely. "This lamp is nice."

Zhou Xu set the lighter down. "You like it?"

Fang Bingxue nodded. "Yeah."

"Easy," Zhou Xu said without looking up. "Just need a whetstone to grind the edges of the bottle so they don’t cut you… Have your guy whip one up for you."

Fang Bingxue nearly choked. Meanwhile, A Liang laid down his chopsticks, content, but after glancing around, picked them up again and kept eating.

*Don’t overshare with strangers,* Fang Bingxue repeated to himself three times before taking a deep breath. "So, are you going to see the doctor or not?"

"Yeah," Zhou Xu stood up. "Might as well. I need to buy some stuff too."

Fang Bingxue raised an eyebrow. "Joss paper?"

Zhou Xu pulled on his jacket. "Hell no, not joss paper. After the shit I went through to dig that bastard up, I’m supposed to burn offerings for him? Screw that!"

Now that Zhou Xu was finally willing to see a doctor, Fang Bingxue’s mission was complete. He figured A Liang was a little afraid of Zhou Xu, and with communication being difficult due to his hearing impairment, having an outsider around might prevent Zhou Xu from flying off the handle.

Judging by how fiercely he was cussing, though, he wasn’t on death’s door.

A Liang didn’t follow. It was getting chilly outside, so Fang Bingxue walked with Zhou Xu for a while.

On the way, they exchanged a few words.

Zhou Xu asked why he’d come to the northwest and how long he planned to stay.

Fang Bingxue, always playing it close to the vest, still refused to open up even when the other man was sick. He gave another non-answer. "We’ll see."

Zhou Xu saw right through him and let out a soft snort.

When they reached the clinic entrance, Fang Bingxue glanced inside. "Alright, I’ll head back—"

Before he could finish, a piercing shriek ripped through from inside.

The next second, Fang Bingxue felt a hand grip his shoulder and haul him backward. He didn’t resist, letting himself be pulled half a step away just as a chubby little boy came barreling out, almost bowling him over.

The kid was screaming bloody murder as he ran, "I don’t want a shot! Don’t make me get a shot!"

Then, the two of them watched as three adults rushed out, grabbing the child and dragging him back inside amid threats and physical restraint. The boy, around six or seven, kicked his short legs wildly, howling like a banshee.

Fang Bingxue’s eyes lit up. "Bro Xu, do your thing!"

Zhou Xu removed his hand from Fang Bingxue’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Go scare him," Fang Bingxue urged, delighted by the chaos. "Stand there and see if you can scare the kid silent just by standing there."

Zhou Xu was speechless. "Why don’t you just draw me and stick me on your door to ward off evil spirits?"

Fang Bingxue cracked up.

His sense of humor was a little odd. Though he usually wore a slight smile and had charming eyes that gave him an affable air, such unrestrained laughter was rare. The clinic’s sign cast a bright white glow, and the young man stood at the foot of the steps, his baggy sweatshirt flapping in the night breeze, the soft fabric clinging to his waist and outlining his slender frame.

Zhou Xu turned his face away, not looking anymore.

"Come on," Fang Bingxue said, still laughing as he clutched his stomach. "I’ll go with you for the shot. I wanna see how the doctor handles kids."

No wonder people said detectives were wicked at heart. His mother worked at a kindergarten, and during holidays, they offered daycare for working parents. Teacher Qin didn’t take breaks either, bringing Fang Bingxue to her office to do homework.

So, from childhood onward, Fang Bingxue’s ears had been filled with the sound of children crying.

It wasn’t that he disliked kids—he just occasionally took a bit of schadenfreude in their misery. This attitude peaked during kindergarten health checkups, where he’d watch with great satisfaction as kids wailed during finger-prick blood tests.

Teacher Qin, who adored children, would scold her son, "Are you some kind of freak?"

And so, the freak Fang Bingxue followed Zhou Xu into the clinic.

Zhou Xu was at a loss with him, unsure why this guy’s laughter switch had been flipped, leaving him grinning nonstop.

The clinic was small, clearly a mom-and-pop operation—the husband saw patients while the wife filled prescriptions. At the moment, along with the parents, they were trying to hold the boy still while throwing in an apology to Zhou Xu: "Sorry, please wait a moment..."

Zhou Xu waved it off. "No problem."

The room had benches and IV poles on either side. It was already past eight in the evening, and apart from the two of them, there were no other patients. Fang Bingxue found a seat and watched, unblinking, as the little boy got his IV started across from him.

The doctor was patient, still coaxing: "If you keep moving, what if Uncle hits the wrong spot?"

The boy squeezed his eyes shut and wailed: "Waaah!"

His mother, far fiercer, swatted his behind. "If you don’t behave, I’ll tell your teacher!"

The boy’s cries grew even louder. "Help! Murder!"

Two minutes later, the boy was successfully on the IV and finally quieted down—

Fang Bingxue turned on the TV.

Amid the background noise of cartoons, Fang Bingxue waved the remote. "Found it in the flowerpot."

The doctor visibly relieved and sat back behind the reception desk. "Sorry about that, I couldn’t find the remote earlier. What brings you in?"

"Not me," Fang Bingxue pointed at Zhou Xu. "He’s got a fever."

The doctor nodded. "Oh, oh, a fever. What’s his temperature now?"

Fang Bingxue opened his mouth. "Uh… I don’t actually know."

The doctor, probably genuinely flustered from the noise, his brain got flustered and skipped straight to asking the patient’s companion before finally turning to Zhou Xu. "Have you taken your temperature?"

Zhou Xu handed over the thermometer. "I took it earlier. Here."

"Wow, almost 39 degrees," the doctor checked it. "Any other discomfort?"

While they discussed the symptoms, Fang Bingxue propped his chin on his hand, spacing out. He didn’t have much entertainment in Licuan County—after work, he’d run laps at the station, head back to the dorm, shower, and sleep.

His routine was ridiculously healthy.

So now, he figured once Zhou Xu was set up with the IV, he’d head back, wind down, and go to bed.

A moment later, Fang Bingxue lowered his hand.

"A shot would work. A hip shot. It’s quick."

Zhou Xu hissed. "Can’t it be in the arm?"

The doctor explained patiently, "The gluteal muscle is safer, less chance of side effects. Didn’t you say IVs take too long? You can get the shot first and see how it goes."

Before the patient could respond, Fang Bingxue jumped in, all fake concern. "It’s fine, let’s listen to the doctor."

Zhou Xu shot back, "Who’s ‘us’?!"

"Are you scared of shots?" Fang Bingxue crowded in. "Don’t worry, your secret's safe. Want me to hold your hand too?"

He braced his hands on the table, bending down to talk. At this distance, Zhou Xu couldn’t miss the faint scent on him. Sick and with a bitter taste in his mouth, his mouth went even drier.

"Then leave. I can handle it myself."

"Not a chance, A Liang asked me to stay with you."

"Fang Bingxue!"

Zhou Xu slammed the table. "You’re messing with me!"

"On purpose for what?" Fang Bingxue blinked. "Wait, you think I *want* to watch you get a shot? Seriously?"

Zhou Xu took a deep breath.

The doctor looked back and forth between them, confused. "An IV is also an option, but it’ll take two hours. Your call—"

"Shot."

Zhou Xu suddenly spoke, the earlier anger evaporated. Now he locked eyes with Fang Bingxue. "Come on, weren’t you going to cover my eyes?"

Fang Bingxue’s jaw dropped. "...Huh?"

He *was* kind of an ass, especially with his mouth—always pushing buttons—but actually watching Zhou Xu get a shot in the hip? That was awkward.

Fang Bingxue reconsidered. If it were Wang Chuan or Ma Rui, he’d feel the same. No guy wanted to see that. So he pumped himself up—*screw it, I can tease Zhou Xu about this later. No big deal.*

He steeled himself. "Bring it on!"

On the TV, *Tom and Jerry* played—Jerry hiding in his hole, heart hammering as footsteps approached. Amid the faint scent of alcohol, there was a *click* as Zhou Xu flicked his belt open one-handed.

A hip injection didn’t require fully removing pants, just pulling them down slightly from the waist. Fang Bingxue stood in front of Zhou Xu as the doctor returned with iodine, smiling at them.

"Scared of needles? Then covering your eyes makes sense."

Behind the curtain, Fang Bingxue’s fingers rested on the wooden table, unmoving.

Zhou Xu’s elbow was also propped on the table, leaning slightly forward as he tilted his head up at Fang Bingxue, grinning like an asshole. "Not covering me anymore?"

All his earlier embarrassment was gone—completely unruffled. His jacket was tossed aside, leaving him in a plain black T-shirt that stretched over his well-defined muscles. Zhou Xu always gave off this vibe—whether in gaze or temper. Even when Fang Bingxue had inexplicably pissed him off before, he’d always bounced back, overpowering with sheer intensity.

Because he had no problem staring right at people.

And Fang Bingxue’s gaze was already wavering.

Zhou Xu lazily drawled, "Well? Weren’t you going to cover me?"

Fang Bingxue paused. "You’re so annoying."

The doctor said something, probably warning about the shot, but Fang Bingxue didn’t catch it—nor did he see anything. Not because he chickened out and looked away.

But because Zhou Xu suddenly reached up and covered *his* eyes.