Chapter 64 Lost Weight

Chapter 64: Thinner

Everything was blurry.

The chandelier and the ceiling came into view.

When his vision cleared, his head was splitting with pain.

D-dad.

His nerves felt like ants were gnawing at them, leaving only the deepest, softest strand, frantically screaming Shen Shiyan's name.

Shen Ci didn't even have the strength to lift his hand, but he instinctively wanted to find him. He almost rolled off the bed, landing with a thud that sent a sharp ache through his knees.

He grabbed the nearby cabinet to pull himself up, but his legs gave out, and he dropped straight to his knees again.

“Shen Ci!”

The door opened, and Song Qiuchi and Qi Zizhu rushed in to help him back onto the bed.

“Sister Zizhu.” Shen Ci sat on the bed in a daze for a moment, cutting off their worried questions. “Where's my d-dad?”

The room went silent for two seconds.

“Mr. Shen...”

Qi Zizhu couldn't finish. Song Qiuchi couldn't bear to see Shen Ci so dazed, so she took over, her tone carrying a hint of cruel resolve: “He hasn't been found yet. You've been out for a day.”

Good.

Just not found yet.

Not already...

He didn't dare think those two words, and he didn't want to.

“Did you bring my bag back?” Shen Ci suddenly spoke calmly. Song Qiuchi's heart sank—someone like this was more terrifying than someone who breaks down crying or throws a tantrum.

“Got it right here.” Qi Zizhu brought his backpack over and placed it on the bed.

In just two days, Shen Ci looked like he'd lost a ton of weight. His skin was an unhealthy pale, completely colorless, and his wrist looked like a fragile white bone as he reached into the bag to feel for the two plushies. His pinky brushed against the pouch he'd never opened.

He pulled out all three items.

The tassels swayed, and the yellow talisman saw daylight for the first time in four years, breathing in the damp air mixed with disinfectant.

He couldn't make sense of those strange symbols, but Shen Ci knew this wasn't some evil charm to take his life or drain his luck—it was a talisman Shen Shiyan had kept to protect him.

Shen Ci also knew Shen Shiyan didn't believe in that stuff.

A smile crossed Shen Ci's face.

His eyes were clouded, drained of life, stripped of the brightness of the once-spirited youth.

He carefully put the yellow talisman back in the pouch, returned it to the bag's inner pocket, and lay down with the two plushies, pulling his knees up and curling into a ball.

He stayed like that, occasionally turning over, refusing to eat, drink, or sleep, turning down all the doctors' questions and offers of IV nutrition. Under the plushies was his phone; he looked at it when the screen lit up, and when it didn't, he just stared, stroking their fur, until the rain that had been falling for nearly four days finally stopped.

Shen Ci only found out when Shen Shiyan was brought to the hospital.

His legs had been in the same position too long, and he fell twice before making it to Shen Shiyan's bedside.

He was out cold, with small cuts on his face from something sharp. His right arm was bent, his wrist tied with a strip torn from Shen Shiyan's shirt. At the elbow, the bone was visibly dislocated and sticking out through the skin. His body was covered in blood.

His ankle looked injured too, swollen up badly.

Song Xianghan patted Shen Ci's back from behind, her voice gentle: “He's got a fracture. Needs surgery. Xiao Ci, let's wait outside.”

No response. Song Xianghan stepped forward and saw that Shen Ci's face was already streaked with tears. He looked over the man, not daring to blink, as if he wanted to personally check every weak breath and heartbeat.

“Mm... mm...” Shen Ci whimpered, forcing out a few hoarse sounds. He couldn't stop looking back as he left the room.

Waiting outside, Shen Ci felt a warmth settle over him. He looked up slowly to see Shen Sicheng smiling down at him.

“Brother Sicheng...” Shen Ci's voice was faint, his throat so hoarse it was hard to tell who he was calling out to.

“I heard you went on a hunger strike, Xiao Ci Baby?” Shen Sicheng was still his usual carefree self, holding hospital forms, but the fatigue was clear on his face.

He'd flown back from abroad as soon as he got the call. By the time he reached the rainforest, Shen Ci had already been moved to a hospital room in Canghai City. He couldn't come back right away, so he called Qi Zizhu every few hours to check on Shen Ci.

“No...” This time, he couldn't even make a sound. Shen Ci bit his lower lip and shook his head, wanting only to say thank you and I'm sorry.

Shen Sicheng put an arm around Shen Ci's shoulder. “Don't worry. He's tough. He'll pull through.”

Shen Ci nodded like crazy.

“When I found him, I thought I was hallucinating. He was standing there like nothing was wrong.” Shen Sicheng teased Shen Ci. “Making our Xiao Ci Baby worry this much—when he wakes up, I'll give him a beating.”

That's what he said, but Shen Sicheng had searched for two days. With the rain interfering with signals and the dangerous terrain, he had thought several times that Shen Shiyan might never be found. But luck had favored him—falling from such a high cliff, he only broke his right arm and twisted his ankle, with no life-threatening injuries.

Using the compass on his phone, he had limped along on his own for who knows how long, only passing out when the search team found him.

Knowing Shen Shiyan was okay, everyone relaxed and laughed at Shen Sicheng's words, but soon their eyes were moist.

Shen Ci finally ate normally, drinking some warm congee, but that night he developed a high fever.

With a cooling patch on his forehead, he insisted on staying by Shen Shiyan's bedside. No one could persuade him otherwise, so Shen Sicheng simply bought another bed and placed it next to the left side of Shen Shiyan's, leaving the other side free for the nurses to change dressings.

In a daze, a hand pulled off the now-warm cooling patch from his forehead, and then a cool palm covered it.

Shen Ci grabbed that wrist. Before his eyes were fully open, tears were already streaming down.

He had been plagued by nightmares these past few days, each time failing to catch Shen Shiyan, watching helplessly as he fell into the abyss. Now, with the warm, tangible object in his grasp, Shen Ci finally confirmed that Shen Shiyan was back, alive, completely back.

“Don't cry.” Shen Shiyan's voice was as hoarse as Shen Ci's.

Shen Ci belatedly moved to press the nurse call button, but Shen Shiyan stopped him.

He sat helplessly on the bed for a while, tears falling uncontrollably. After a long moment, he fumbled to get the warm water from the bedside table and brought the straw to Shen Shiyan's lips.

Taking a few sips from his hand, Shen Shiyan's throat felt much better. He stared at Shen Ci without blinking, his dark eyes as if trying to see through to his soul.

“You're thinner.” Shen Shiyan gestured for him to come closer.

Shen Ci moved a bit nearer, his head slightly lowered. Shen Shiyan wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, his voice gentle with a hint of reproach: “You haven't been eating well.”

Shen Ci's stomach issues had rarely flared up because Shen Shiyan personally oversaw every meal. He rarely ate takeout, never missed the most important breakfast, and kept a close eye on how much he ate—not too much, not too little, no overly spicy or greasy food, and only small, measured treats of cold or chilled items. That's how he had built up Shen Ci's health, making his complexion better and putting some meat on his bones.

Shen Ci held Shen Shiyan's hand tightly against his burning cheek, shaking his head and nodding at the same time, unable to form a complete sentence.

"I thought... I thought you..."

Shen Shiyan's right arm was in a cast, yet it felt as if his entire body was fixed to the bed, making it really hard to move even a little.

His hand was wet with Shen Ci's salty tears. His body didn't hurt much, and he wasn't too uncomfortable, but his heart ached terribly.

"You still have a fever." Shen Shiyan wanted to feel his forehead, but Shen Ci held his hand tightly, keeping him from moving.

He wanted to spend a little more time alone with him, but was truly worried about the severity of his fever. With some reluctance, Shen Shiyan let Shen Ci press the nurse's call button.

Soon the room was filled with people—all his friends standing by the bed, some checking Shen Ci's temperature, others listening to Shen Shiyan answer the doctor's questions.

In short, every single one of them was a handful.