Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Shen Ling couldn't remember when he'd lost his strength.

He'd been the one to make the first move, yet in the end, Huo Yanshen was the one in control of everything.

Shen Ling's consciousness wavered between clarity and drowsiness. In a daze, he felt the thing that made him feel safe being pulled away.

Shen Ling instinctively clung tighter, mumbling, "Don't... don't..."

Even as he spoke, he struggled to lift his face, clumsily searching for Huo Yanshen's lips. Shen Ling's eyes were half-lidded, and when his lips pressed against the other man's, there was a pleading edge to it.

He'd always loved being kissed and sucked like this—like his whole body was wrapped up in something warm, making him feel safe.

Huo Yanshen's throat went tight at how eagerly Shen Ling pressed in. He kissed back with real force, lips and tongues tangled.

Shen Ling's head spun in no time. The lack of air and a tingly numbness shot up his spine. His mind went blank, and he felt floaty, like he was about to dissolve.

Huo Yanshen kissed him hard, and Shen Ling could barely breathe. His mind was filled with nothing but white fog.

His lips moved, and the question came out so faint he couldn't even hear his own voice.

"Will you... will you always protect me..."

Huo Yanshen's voice came right against his ear, "I will."

"Never leave?"

"Never."

"Swear it..."

"I swear."

So many vows, so many promises, all tangled up with the overwhelming sensations—like a shot of hard liquor going down, burning until he couldn't tell up from down, couldn't tell truth from lies.

So he'd believe it all.

At this moment, Shen Ling was willing to believe. And believing felt good.

...

When he regained consciousness again, it was Huo Yanshen's voice drifting over gently, "You done, baby?"

Shen Ling kept his eyes shut and let out a soft, "Mm..."

Before the sound even faded, he felt Huo Yanshen's hand cover him.

...

Shen Ling let out a muffled groan, past the point of making any real sound. His mind was like a kite with a snapped string, drifting further and further out, until it sank into a dark, formless haze.

Only half-conscious, he felt himself being lifted up.

A warm towel moved over his body. Then his chin was tilted up, and the rim of a cup pressed against his lips, warm water trickling into his mouth. He swallowed a few mouthfuls, but more spilled from the corner of his mouth, and someone wiped it away with their palm.

Shen Ling rolled over in that warmth, buried his face in the pillow, and fell into a heavy sleep.

*

The next morning, the ache in his body woke Shen Ling up.

He was awake before his eyes even opened. His lower back was too heavy to lift, a dull ache shooting up from his tailbone, and his legs were numb, like they weren't even his. He lay on his stomach for a few seconds before forcing himself to roll over. The second his back hit the mattress, he groaned again.

His head felt heavy and thick, his temples pounding. He forced his eyes open a crack, and last night came back to him piece by piece...

Shen Ling yanked the blanket up and curled into a ball underneath.

That wasn't him.

How could that possibly be him?

He knew he lost control when he had one of his episodes, but he never thought he'd lose it like that.

What would Huo Yanshen think?

Would he think he was too—

Shen Ling bit his lip and swallowed the word back down. He pulled the blanket over his head and curled up small, like a snail pulling back into its shell.

Just as he was spiraling under the blanket, a hand suddenly pressed against his back.

Shen Ling flinched, shrinking back, his whole body tensing under the covers.

"Awake?" Huo Yanshen's voice came from outside the blanket.

Shen Ling tried to answer, but only a breathy rasp came out. He gave up and let out a soft, "Mm," through his nose.

The second that "mm" came out, even Shen Ling was startled.

Why was his voice so wrecked? It sounded awful.

He gripped the blanket tighter, bracing for whatever Huo Yanshen said next.

Huo Yanshen said, "Show me your face."

Shen Ling's heart lurched.

Huo Yanshen looked at him, his gaze calm. "You'll suffocate in there."

Shen Ling blinked, then slowly let out half the breath he'd been holding.

Huo Yanshen didn't bring up last night. Shen Ling pressed his lips together under the blanket, then slowly tugged it down just enough to show his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

Like a little animal poking its head out of its shell—wary and confused.

Well, that made sense. This was what they were to each other, after all. Huo Yanshen's reaction was only natural.

He was the only one who had been in turmoil all morning, churning and tossing until he nearly suffocated himself.

Huo Yanshen's calm rubbed off on him, and Shen Ling settled down a little too. But the physical discomfort didn't disappear. The ache spread up from his lower back, his legs heavy like they weren't his, and his head felt thick and slow.

Shen Ling pulled the blanket up higher and rasped, "I'll lie here a little longer."

Huo Yanshen frowned, got up, walked to the table, grabbed a glass of honey water, unscrewed the lid, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He brought the rim to Shen Ling's lips, cradling the back of his neck with his other hand so he could lean against his arm and drink.

While he drank, Shen Ling fished his phone out from under the pillow. A bunch of notification alerts were waiting for him. He turned the brightness down and squinted as he opened it.

A bunch of unread messages.

Chen Xitong: Shen Ling? Are you okay? I heard from my cousin that you weren't feeling well—make sure you get some rest! [kitten peeking out.jpg]

Awen: Mr. Shen! I heard you left early—hope it's nothing serious? Let's hang out once you're feeling better. That Loro Piana fall color swatch book arrived, and I think a few of them would look great on you!

Awen: Oh, and Mr. Shen, if you get a chance in the next couple of days, can you text me back? I'm kinda worried QAQ

Shen Ling stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the chat box, frozen for a long time.

In his past life, he'd been prickly and arrogant, relying on his pretty face and that little bit of talent, looking down his nose at everyone, snapping at people after just three words he didn't like.

Later, when Huo Yanshen died and his grandma passed too, he couldn't find a single person to text when something happened to him. His sister was prepping for her college entrance exams, and he didn't want to distract her, so he carried it all by himself—until the day he couldn't anymore, and he left on his own.

He never imagined that one day, he'd open his phone and someone would ask him, "What's wrong?"

A wave of bitterness rose in Shen Ling's throat, and his eyes finally felt that familiar, long-missed warmth of tears. He blinked hard, but the tears still wouldn't come, so he just replied to each message, one by one.

To Chen Xitong, he replied, "I'm doing much better now, thanks for checking in, Miss Chen. [little bunny bowing.jpg]"

To Awen, he replied, "It's nothing serious, just a little tired. I'll take a look at your swatch book when I'm back!"

Awen immediately replied with a string of exclamation marks, then went on and on about funny stuff that happened at the shop the past couple of days. Shen Ling leaned back against the headboard, his eyes curving into a smile as he read Awen's messages.

As they chatted, Awen suddenly dropped this—

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Shen, did you hear? That Liu Xian—you know, that old professor from your school—fell off a yacht!"

Shen Ling shot upright. "Liu Xian fell in the water?!"

The movement was too sudden—his vision went black instantly, a sharp ringing filled his ears, and the cup in his hand tipped over, spilling the rest of the honey water onto the blanket.

His body lurched forward, his knees hitting the edge of the bed, nearly sending him to the floor.

An arm reached out from the side and caught him.

Huo Yanshen's palm pressed against Shen Ling's chest, pulling him into his arms. Shen Ling gasped for air, his heart hammering in his chest.

"What's the rush?" Huo Yanshen said calmly.

It took Shen Ling a few seconds for his vision to slowly come back from black to blurry outlines.

Suddenly remembering something, Shen Ling's voice shook, "That crew member you said you saved before... it wasn't...?"

He couldn't even bring himself to say Liu Xian's name.

Just the thought of Huo Yanshen's hands touching that man made his stomach churn with nausea.

Huo Yanshen said calmly, "No, it wasn't him. I've never met him."

Shen Ling let out a relieved breath, sinking limply into Huo Yanshen's arms.

Thank God. Thank God Huo Yanshen's hands weren't sullied.

He buried his face in Huo Yanshen's chest and let out a muffled sigh.

Huo Yanshen looked down and could only see the top of his fluffy hair and a small patch of red ear.

"You happy?"

Shen Ling blinked. Of course he was happy—for someone like Liu Xian, falling in the water was getting off easy.

But he didn't want to seem too malicious, like some petty person gloating over someone else's misfortune. What would Huo Yanshen think?

So he didn't say anything, just burrowed his face deeper into Huo Yanshen's chest.

Huo Yanshen reached out and pulled him out of his arms.

A palm lifted Shen Ling's chin, and he instinctively tried to turn away, but the corner of his mouth hadn't had time to hide the smile—a faint one, as delicate as the first flower blooming by the river in spring.

Huo Yanshen gently brushed his thumb across the corner of Shen Ling's mouth.

This was the first smile Shen Ling had shown since everything went down.

Shen Ling's face flushed under his gaze. Just as he was about to look away, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Huo Yanshen grabbed it for him—the screen showed "Zhou Lin."

He picked up, and Zhou Lin's voice came through, "Xiao Ling? Sorry to bother you this early."

Shen Ling cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound less raspy, "No trouble at all, Mr. Zhou. What's up?"

"So, next month our magazine is co-hosting an annual jewelry art exhibition with the domestic jewelry association. The theme is 'Residual Warmth.' I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in submitting a piece for the exhibition?"

Shen Ling gripped the phone, his pupils dilating slightly.

Zhou Lin's magazine had a lot of influence in the domestic jewelry industry, and the exhibition co-hosted with the association was high-profile. In his past life, he'd received similar invitations, but back then he'd already won awards big and small and built up a name for himself in the industry.

At this point, though, he was still nobody.

Zhou Lin continued, "No format restrictions. The exhibition runs about fifteen days, with media promotion and an auction. No need to rush—about a month should be enough. Think you can make it work?"

Shen Ling quickly said, "Yeah, that works."

He looked up, his eyes catching the light in the morning glow, "It'd be my honor."

After hanging up, he set the phone aside and lay back in Huo Yanshen's arms.

Huo Yanshen asked, "What was that?"

"Mr. Zhou invited me to be in next month's jewelry art exhibition," Shen Ling said, closing his eyes.

"The theme is 'Residual Warmth.'"

...

Over the next month, Shen Ling poured most of his energy into his designs.

In the middle of it, after Huo Yanshen coaxed him for days, he finally agreed to see a therapist. The first time he went, he dawdled downstairs for nearly twenty minutes before Huo Yanshen took his hand and led him to the car.

Fortunately, Dr. Song was very gentle—recommended by Wen Pei—and had a very reassuring way of speaking.

Shen Ling held Huo Yanshen's hand the entire visit. Dr. Song didn't push anything, just chatted about everyday stuff, like whether he'd been sleeping well lately, or if there was anything he wanted to do.

Life settled into a calm rhythm, and Shen Ling's mood got better day by day.

After Liu Xian fell in the water, he spent half a month in the hospital—apparently with a lung infection, barely making it. Sun Yu had also mysteriously disappeared.

A month flew by.

Shen Ling happened to be on summer break, with nothing to do, so he was holed up at home.

He planned to take a trip to the old town to find some inspiration. For the exhibition's brooch design, he had sketched several drafts but felt something was off—the city itself was still too new.

However, back in his hometown, there was an old street with bluestone slabs polished to a shine, and beneath the arcades were decades-old shops that had a worn-in feel. He figured he could find some ideas there.

Shen Ling tucked the pencil behind his ear and was about to pack his bags when his eyes landed on the book on the nightstand.

Dr. Song had given it to him last week, saying it was extra reading to help with his treatment. The cover was printed with a long string of English terms, and Shen Ling would zone out after a single page. But Dr. Song would always ask him with a smile how it was going, and he was too embarrassed to say he couldn't make sense of it.

Shen Ling leaned back on the sofa, tilted his head back, held the book right over his face, and flipped to the bookmarked page, pretending to read.

The afternoon sunlight slanted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making his ankles feel warm.

As he read, his eyelids started to droop.

He didn't know why, but he'd been sleepy a lot lately. Even though he didn't go to bed that late, he'd roll over and sleep till noon, and after lunch, the food coma would knock him out for another two or three hours.

Shen Ling had suffered from insomnia for years, and now that he could finally sleep, he figured his body was just repairing itself, so he didn't think much of it.

The sleepiness hit faster than he expected. The book slipped out of his hand and smacked him right on the nose with a thud.

"Ow..."

Shen Ling's eyes snapped open, his nose red from the impact. He rubbed the tip of his nose, picked up the culprit, and found the page had gotten creased, right at a sentence Dr. Song had underlined with a wavy pencil line:

"People with attachment anxiety in close relationships tend to see their partner's presence as their only source of security. This over-reliance, even if it comes from trauma, can weaken your ability to self-regulate over time."

Shen Ling stared at that line for a long while.

...It kind of feels like it's calling me out.

He closed the book, rolled onto his stomach on the couch, pulled out his phone, and tapped the app icon on the home screen.

Caibao AI assistant.

Shen Ling typed, "Caibao Caibao, do normal people take their husbands on business trips?"

Caibao, "Aww, what an adorable question~ Generally speaking, it's completely normal for an adult to travel alone for work! You've totally got this! Go for it!"

Shen Ling locked the phone and stared at the ceiling blankly.

Even Caibao said so.

He jumped off the couch, dragged the little suitcase out from the corner, and started stuffing things into it.

He wasn't great at packing. Shen Ling crouched on the floor, shoved two shirts into the suitcase, and spent forever looking for his charger—until the housekeeper finally fished it out from between the couch cushions.

Before leaving, Shen Ling pulled out his phone and texted Huo Yanshen.

Huo Yanshen should still be in a meeting at this hour. Shen Ling thought for a second and typed out a message:

"Dear husband, by the time you see this, I should already be on my way to the high-speed rail station. Heading to Xuncheng for some inspiration. Don't worry about me—I'll be back in four days (′▽`)"

Sent.

After sending it, he put the phone in his pocket, slung on his backpack, grabbed the bulging little suitcase, and headed out the door.

==========Author's Note:==========

Top: Baby, where are you going again, baby?