Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Wanting a bowl of hot wontons didn’t seem like a difficult request, but in the dead of night, neither going out nor finding an open shop was easy.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Song Nian regretted them.

After all the travel and exhaustion, Li Yanchuan had rushed back overnight—how could he bother him to go buy something again?

He opened his mouth, about to explain that he had just said it offhand, but Li Yanchuan squeezed his hand, naturally picked up the car keys, and stood up.

He didn’t question whether there’d be any wontons at this hour, didn’t complain about the craving, didn’t show any annoyance—he simply agreed.

As if it were the simplest request in the world.

It was too late, so Li Yanchuan didn’t plan to bother his assistant and decided to go himself.

He glanced at the IV drip; there was still a while to go before the needle could come out, long enough for a round trip.

Seeing that he was really going to buy them, Song Nian quickly grabbed the hem of his shirt to stop him.

“I—I was joking, you don’t really have to go.”

“Now, close your eyes and rest. I’ll be back soon.”

For once, Li Yanchuan didn’t listen to his lover’s words. Instead, he tucked his hand back under the blanket and gently closed his eyelids, telling him to get some sleep.

For the first time, his insincere protest had been seen through, and a powerful surge of emotion stirred deep in Song Nian’s heart.

The warm, strong palm over his eyes, the low voice filled with reassurance—it was like being wrapped in gentle wings, sheltered, dispelling his anxious vulnerability.

The softest part of his heart was touched, as if something long frozen had melted and surfaced.

His nose stung, and he nodded firmly.

Worried about leaving him alone while sick, before leaving, Li Yanchuan kept the phone line open, so that even while away, Song Nian could call out to him anytime.

Lying on his side, staring at the softly glowing screen, listening to the sounds on the other end of the line, Song Nian’s heart turned to mush.

The sound of footsteps going downstairs, the car engine starting—each one came through the phone, outlining the man’s movements.

It didn’t feel noisy—it was full of reassurance.

Just listening to each other’s breathing was deeply satisfying.

Song Nian slowly closed his eyes, but didn’t fall asleep, his attention wholly fixed on the movements of his beloved on the other end.

Until the familiar footsteps echoed again in the stairwell, falling on his ears, and he opened his eyes.

Bathed in moonlight, starlit, still carrying the chill of the night, Li Yanchuan returned, coming into view.

And in his hands, he carried a steaming bowl of shrimp wontons.

During the round trip, the wontons had been carefully packed—not a single drop of soup had spilled, still piping hot, and with a full spoonful of scallions and cilantro, just as Song Nian liked.

The aroma hit his nose, but it brought tears to his eyes. Maybe it was because being sick made him fragile and sensitive, but tonight Song Nian had been moved to tears many times, his heartstrings tugged endlessly, leaving him restless.

Li Yanchuan made no mention of the night’s cold, nor did he boast about how he had found a shop about to close, paid extra to have them make one last bowl of wontons fresh to order. He simply removed the IV needle for him.

Then he scooped up a wonton, blew on it to cool it down, and, ensuring it was at the right temperature, personally fed it to Song Nian’s lips.

No complaint or dissatisfaction showed on his face—only willingness.

Having had nothing to eat or drink since the afternoon, the tempting aroma made Song Nian ravenous. He opened his mouth and ate from his hand.

Whether because he was starving or because this bowl of wontons was somehow special, he found it more delicious than any food he had ever tasted.

Patiently feeding him until he was full, then letting him rest for a while, it was nearly five in the morning.

“Are you still leaving?”

Song Nian blinked and asked softly.

“Mm. Get some rest. The doctor will come check on you again in the morning.”

Li Yanchuan touched his forehead, felt that his temperature had dropped a bit, and was relieved.

After wiping him down and changing him into dry clothes, he prepared to leave for the airport.

If not for a mandatory meeting at ten o’clock, he would have stayed to take care of him.

“Sleep well. Call me when you wake up.”

Before leaving, he pressed a kiss on Song Nian’s forehead.

The medicine gradually took effect. Amid the gentle words of reassurance, his body and mind relaxed, and Song Nian’s eyelids grew heavy. Before he knew it, he had drifted off.

When he woke the next day, it was already noon.

Aunt Wang arrived just then, leading the doctor for the follow-up checkup. After confirming that the fever was gone and there were no other issues, the doctor gave the usual instructions, prescribed some medication, and left.

Aunt Wang, full of concern, sighed deeply and brought out specially prepared chicken soup and nutritious food, urging him to eat well and recover.

After eating, Song Nian remembered to check his phone.

There were several unread messages, all from the same person:

“Li Yanchuan: Call me when you wake up.”

“Li Yanchuan: I don’t see this as trouble. On the contrary, it gave me a chance to rush back and see you.”

“Li Yanchuan: Or to put it another way, I hope you’ll trouble me more.”

Someone who loves you never sees your requests as a burden—only as a reason to drop everything and come to you, as the joy of seeing you.

Song Nian read the words on the screen over and over. His chest suddenly swelled, filled with a gushing stream of warmth.

That sudden figure appearing, that hot bowl of wontons—like light piercing the night, illuminating the fog that had shrouded him since childhood.

The many cold nights he had endured alone while sick were no longer cold. Sunlight poured down, and in the warmth, someone was there reaching out to hold his hand, staying by his bedside without complaint.

Even if he made a willful request, it could be fulfilled.

This feeling was strange yet secretly thrilling.

Still, how had Li Yanchuan found out he was sick?

Though curious, Song Nian decided to call him first.

“Awake? Still feeling unwell?”

The call was quickly answered, and a deep, magnetic voice came through the earpiece, speaking words of care.

"Mm, the fever has gone down."

Even though he no longer had a fever, his ears inexplicably turned red, and his cheeks grew warm, as if the voice were whispering right in his ear. Song Nian buried half his face in his turtleneck.

"What about you? Did you catch up on some sleep?"

Given the flight schedule, even the earliest plane would only land at nine, and if he had work in the morning, he wouldn't have gotten any sleep.

"Mm, I was just about to leave the hotel."

He paused, signaled to his subordinate beside him, and walked alone to a corner of the corridor.

In truth, he was lying. At that moment, he was in the meeting room.

After taking the earliest flight this morning, he hadn't gone back to the hotel to rest but had gone straight to the company. He was wrapping up a business deal when Song Nian called.

Knowing that if he told the truth, Song Nian would certainly feel guilty, he decided to tell a harmless white lie.

"That's good. You go ahead with your work, I'll wait for you to come back."

Hearing this, Song Nian indeed let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

With a grunt of agreement, Li Yanchuan suddenly remembered something and called out to stop him from hanging up.

Then he earnestly called Song Nian's name:

"I think, after we get back, we need to have a proper talk."

Everything was understood without words. Song Nian also realized what he was referring to.

—The relationship between the two was strange now. Even though they had confessed and gotten together, they were more reserved with each other than before.

It was as if neither of them had let go, and with feelings now mutual, they had even more concerns.

So he replied softly:

"Okay, I'll wait for you to come back."

After hanging up, Li Yanchuan stood still for a long time, not immediately returning to the meeting room, gazing out the window in a daze.

Whenever he thought of how considerate Song Nian had been yesterday, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow.

What must he have endured to become so attuned to others' moods?

A person with a personality as warm as the sun, passionate and kind, yet so overly cautious when it came to his own affairs, even hiding his illness.

With that thought, Li Yanchuan's brows furrowed.

He felt that there was a very obvious problem in their relationship now.

He didn't dare to show his possessiveness, and Song Nian didn't dare to show his vulnerability.

Previously, neither of them had such concerns, but as their relationship evolved and their love became clear, each of them was considering the other on a deeper level.

Overthinking made them act constrained, and every move they made was indecisive.

He still remembered their promise to always speak up when there was a problem.

This time, it was Li Yanchuan's turn to take the initiative to break the ice and lay everything out in the open.

Their love didn't need to change; what needed adjustment was the mindset of two people experiencing love for the first time.

"Chairman Li, the break is over. We can resume."

The secretary suddenly appeared to remind him.

"Okay."

Li Yanchuan turned around, concealing the tiredness of a sleepless night in his eyes, and returned to the meeting room to speed up the work progress.

----

After an intense schedule, the next evening, Li Yanchuan boarded a flight back earlier than planned.

He had originally wanted to return as early as possible, but the itinerary really couldn't be compressed any further. Arriving a day early was already the max they could manage, and even the secretary traveling with him was nearly overwhelmed.

After landing, watching his boss, who remained expressionless, leave, the secretary couldn't help but wonder: Was his boss made of iron?

"Chairman Li, going straight home?"

The observant driver asked.

Li Yanchuan nodded instinctively, then suddenly remembered something and asked the driver to make a detour.

As instructed, the driver pulled over at a commercial street. Li Yanchuan got out, and after about half an hour, returned to the car carrying a clear square box.

"Let's go."

He said, calmly lowering his eyes.

The curious driver glanced in the rearview mirror and saw what the boss had brought into the car. Though surprised, he quickly caught on, kept his professionalism, staying silent and not gossiping.

The weather had other plans, unfortunately. On the way back, it started drizzling, then pouring, and the road, which had been clear, became congested.

Looking at the congested road ahead, Li Yanchuan instinctively frowned, drummed his fingers on the armrest, and a hint of impatience crept onto his face.

"Li Yanchuan: Sorry, stuck in traffic, I'll be a bit late getting home"

"Song Nian: It's okay, I'll wait for you. Drive safe!"

The person waiting at home didn't complain at all, and instead comforted him, telling him not to worry.

Finally, as night fell, the car, having driven through the drizzle under a starry sky, pulled into the driveway.

Hearing the noise, Song Nian came running down the stairs and hurried over to greet him.

"Welcome back!"

Having missed him terribly after a few days apart, he opened the door first, but was stunned by what he saw outside.

Li Yanchuan stood tall outside the door, still wearing his sharply professional suit jacket, but the items he carried seemed completely out of place with his demeanor.

In one hand, he held a cake; in the other, a bouquet of flowers, as if to celebrate something.

"Mm, I'm home."

He lowered his brows, showing a faint smile and tenderness, and handed over the things in his hands.

"Happy birthday."

His birthday?

Hearing that, Song Nian looked stunned.

Without thinking, he glanced at the calendar on the wall and suddenly realized what day it was.

He hadn't celebrated his birthday since he was a kid; he'd even forgotten it.