After taking the medicine, Song Wenwei lay down and fell asleep. Lu Nan, however, couldn’t sleep. She usually went to bed late, and this hour was still too early for her.
She gently moved her ankle, and the muscles in her leg ached, pulling at her nerves. Her left leg was a bit better than her right; otherwise, she really would have lost function in her lower body.
It was probably the pain triggered by her constant disregard of the doctor’s orders and running around. She had originally been three weeks away from full recovery, but now it was going to take even longer.
Lu Nan looked at the empty bed. Once again, she was sleeping alone.
Fortunately, this time their rooms were right next door. Previously, the hospital had separated them across several floors for confidentiality because of other celebrities, but now that secrecy wasn’t needed, the proximity had its benefits. At least Lu Nan didn’t have to exert herself as much to go over.
Lu Nan sat on the bed, gazing into the distance under the moonlight. The tall buildings looked airtight, as if they were wrapping people entirely within them, with red, green, and purple neon lights reflecting off each other.
Her long hair draped down her back. Lu Nan twisted it, braided it into a small plait, and tucked it behind her ear.
She sat quietly like this for a long time, still without the slightest bit of sleepiness. The medicine didn’t make her drowsy either.
Without anyone or any doll beside her, Lu Nan couldn’t fall asleep no matter what. She couldn’t keep her eyes open or closed, and with her leg injury, she couldn’t turn from side to side—she could only lie flat staring at the ceiling.
The sky was just beginning to lighten.
The ward door cracked open slightly, and dim light filtered through the window from the shops that had already opened. In the silent corridor, a figure slowly walked by, leaning on a crutch.
“Ah!”
A terrified female voice broke the silence—short and urgent.
Lu Nan instinctively whipped her head around. In the hospital, the only two people were her and Song Wenwei.
After that one sound, there was nothing else, like an auditory hallucination that made her doubt if it had even happened.
Her crutch-wielding foot moved like the wind; the pain in her leg had been blocked out by her brain. Lu Nan didn’t feel it anymore. She only knew she needed to check on Song Wenwei right now.
Was it a nightmare? Or had she been scared by some person or thing, like those two people yesterday? Was it a prank today, or…
“Wenwei?” Lu Nan stood at the door, anxiously pushing it open.
The person inside was gasping for breath heavily.
In her panic, Lu Nan forgot about the extra bed placed nearby and hurried over.
In an instant, her figure swayed. She lost her balance and fell to the ground. The crutch clattered against the bed frame and a metal piece, producing a piercing clang that snapped everyone back to reality.
“Lu Nan?!” Song Wenwei’s half-closed eyes flew wide open. She rolled out of bed in a flash, but she could only watch helplessly as Lu Nan fell and was helped up by the swarm of nurses who rushed in.
“Does it hurt?”
Lu Nan didn’t speak. She shook her head and took a long time to catch her breath again, biting her lip as she was helped away.
Song Wenwei wanted to follow, but the doctor stopped her. “Rest first. Her surgery won’t be that quick.”
An hour and a half later, the surgery ended.
The doctor said bluntly, “That was a nasty fall. You’re going to be in pain for the next couple of days. Once the anesthesia wears off, you’ll be grimacing. Lu Nan, you’ve finally been forced to stop running around everywhere. Li Erning nags me about it so much my head’s about to explode. At least these two days will give me some peace.”
“Doctor, don’t tell Li Erning this time—no, definitely don’t tell her!” Lu Nan said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to prepare my last rites tomorrow.”
The doctor gave her a deep look and nodded naturally, as if agreeing. But as soon as she left, he grabbed his phone and messaged Li Erning.
[Lu Nan fell again. Right leg fractured this time, steel plate inserted. Anesthesia wears off in six hours. Left leg improving.]
When Lu Nan returned, she was wheeled back in a wheelchair.
The nurse was taking her to the room next to Song Wenwei’s when Lu Nan spoke up. “Thanks, stop here. I’ll go in myself.”
Once the nurse was far away, Lu Nan turned the wheelchair to face Song Wenwei’s room. She needed to explain so she wouldn’t worry.
A voice came from behind her. “I’m here.”
Lu Nan turned back. The woman’s face was shadowed and indistinct in the moonlight.
She said, “Let’s stay together. No more sneaking around.”
“Okay…”
Song Wenwei placed both hands on the wheelchair, lifted the woman’s long hair, and let it fall over her chest before pushing her into the room.
She helped Lu Nan onto the bed. Lu Nan sat half-upright, and Song Wenwei sat beside her.
“Does it hurt?” Song Wenwei asked.
“I’m fine. I just lost my balance.”
Lu Nan smiled faintly, her face showing no sign of pain, making it seem like she hadn’t been injured at all. But the bandages on her leg clearly told otherwise.
Her smile was so piercing it hurt to look at.
“Are you lying to me too?” Song Wenwei didn’t know how ugly her expression was at that moment, but Lu Nan could tell she was angry—her face darkened almost blending into the night.
Lu Nan didn’t understand why Song Wenwei had suddenly gotten angry, but she knew she must have done something wrong to upset her.
“Don’t frown. Don’t be angry.”
Lu Nan reached out to stroke her cheek, trying to smooth it out. Her expression was truly heartbreaking. Song Wenwei had never looked like this before—not even in school, when she was always smiling brightly, making people think she’d smile like that forever.
Song Wenwei slapped Lu Nan’s hand away lightly from her face.
After all this time, she was still like this—never admitting any hardship, enduring all pain silently until it seemed like nothing had happened.
She didn’t understand why Lu Nan wouldn’t even share something like this with her.
Song Wenwei said resentfully, “You’re clearly in excruciating pain, so why pretend nothing happened? Do you not want me to know you’re hurting? Why? Are you afraid I’ll feel guilty, or do you just not care what I think?”
“No, you know that’s not how I think.” Lu Nan hurriedly explained, “I care about you and what you think.”
She just didn’t want Song Wenwei to worry. Pain was something Lu Nan could bear alone.
“Then why won’t you tell me instead of holding it in…” Song Wenwei stared at her, emotions surging in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re thinking like this. It makes me so sad, you know? I don’t want you to grit your teeth through the pain and joke with me. I just want us to comfort each other.”
“If you won’t even tell me this, what’s the point of me?”
“You’re useful, Wenwei. You are. I…” Lu Nan tried to comfort her with clumsy words.
She rarely encountered situations like this. It was their first argument in her first relationship, and all the advice from the internet and books was useless.
Strictly speaking, it was only the fourth day of their relationship. Feeling helpless was inevitable, but no one had told her how awful helplessness felt—every word seemed so pale.
Song Wenwei said, “I want you to tell me your feelings—whether it’s pain or happiness. No need to only share the good and hide the bad.”
“That’s what couples do. I can’t just keep taking your emotions; you should share yours with me too. Positive emotional value is what we should give each other.”
Only like this could they go on together for a long, long time.
Lu Nan looked up and nuzzled her, sending tingles down her neck.
As a child, if she got hurt and cried or yelled, no one cared—the orphanage had too many kids to comfort them all. By the time she went to school, she learned that calling out in pain was useless and avoided it. Later, she didn’t get hurt much anyway. Song Wenwei wanted to tell her it had nothing to do with age—if you wanted to cry or shout in pain, you should.
She lowered her head, her voice serious. “I get it, Wenwei. I get it. I’ll speak up. I won’t do this again like today. Forgive me, okay?”
Song Wenwei glanced down at her leg, neither refusing nor agreeing. She just said, “Can you stop running around recklessly? You won’t heal like this. If you don’t care about yourself, someone else will.”
“I’ll care—like you care about me. Lu Nan, don’t do this anymore.” Song Wenwei kissed her with tears in her eyes, as if venting her low mood.
“Okay.”
Lu Nan responded to her emotions, her large hand pressing the back of her head, pulling her waist closer, gradually turning defense into offense.
After the kiss, Song Wenwei came back to her senses and sat quietly in the ambiguous atmosphere. She said blankly, “Oh no.”
Lu Nan kissed her forehead and murmured, “What’s oh no?”
“My fever might not be gone yet. I don’t want to pass any virus to you.”
“Then what do we do?” Lu Nan refused to let go. “We’ve already kissed anyway, and for so long—the virus is probably already passed. Can’t waste it.”
With that, she tilted her head and gently rubbed against the woman’s hair tips, the hard edge of her ear brushing her cheek.
“Enough, enough…” Song Wenwei pushed her away, her face slightly flushed. “Stop, I can’t breathe.”
“You kissed me first, and look—you even bit me.”
Lu Nan pulled her lip open with her fingers, revealing the red inside where there was a small cut oozing tiny blood beads.
She licked it with her tongue, making her lips glisten red, and the blood bead disappeared.
Lu Nan tasted rust in her mouth. She said, “It bled. Didn’t you taste it?”
“No.” Song Wenwei forced out the words.
It was her fault for not controlling herself. One second she was angry about Lu Nan not sharing her emotions, and the next, seeing her sincere apology and injured leg, all her anger vanished.
Lu Nan leaned closer and asked again, “Really?”
“Really.”
“Not even a little?”
“Really not.” Song Wenwei couldn’t help licking her lips; there was still a faint taste of blood in her mouth.
Shameful, Song Wenwei cursed inwardly.
“Fine then~” Lu Nan’s tone carried an indescribable disappointment.
She really hadn’t tasted it.
“…”
“The sky’s brightening.”
“Yeah, dawn’s here.” Lu Nan lifted her hand to Song Wenwei’s forehead. “Let me check if your fever’s gone.”
“It’s gone. My head doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Recovered so quickly.”
Her temperature felt normal to the touch. Song Wenwei’s resistance must be strong.
“Is the anesthesia wearing off?” Song Wenwei asked. For this kind of surgery, they usually used local anesthesia, which wore off after a few hours—the exact time unclear.
No pain under anesthesia, but afterward, it would hurt like hell, making you grimace—just like when the nurses carried Lu Nan away, her face calm on the surface but pale from pain underneath.
“Still early—about four more hours. Are you sleepy?”
“Not anymore.”
Lu Nan’s fall had shaken off all her sleepiness. Where could she sleep now? That fall sounded brutal; it really hurt.
Lu Nan asked, “Did you have a nightmare earlier?”
“Sort of.” Song Wenwei picked up the braid Lu Nan had made earlier and stroked it gently, over and over.
“What did you dream?”
“I dreamed of my mom.” Song Wenwei looked at her and added, “And you.”
“What about me…”
“You died in front of me.” Song Wenwei smiled frankly. “But good thing it was just a dream. Waking up to see you fall on the ground scared me to death.”
“Worried makes you careless. You didn’t notice my bed was still there. Sigh~” Lu Nan let out a heavy sigh.
The two sat quietly.
The sun rose from the horizon, shining on the earth. A new day began.
The ward door handle turned, and the door opened. Aunt Zheng arrived with Li Erning.
Compared to before, she looked much more haggard.
“Good thing you’re okay.” Li Erning looked at her without mentioning the contract or the scolding Lu Nan had dreaded.
Lu Nan had been worrying about the movie in two months. With her leg, it wouldn’t heal without two or three months—she’d be in for it.
She just repeated flatly, “Good thing you’re okay. I’ll head out first.”
“Er-jie.” Lu Nan called out to stop her, probing, “Did something happen?”
Li Erning was a perfectionist who never let anything embarrass her. Even if overwhelmed, she wouldn’t show it. Everyone called her a cunning perfect fox. People get tired after more than a decade—yet she’d never been like this. What had her so worried?
Li Erning smoothed her brows and said softly, “Nothing. You can’t be reckless and run around anymore. Song Wenwei, keep an eye on her for me.”
Song Wenwei nodded.
“Rest well, Lu Nan. Don’t overthink the rest.” Li Erning paused and added, “I’m going on a business trip for a week. Call me if anything comes up.”
Lu Nan frowned, knowing that something had happened to Li Erning but she was unwilling to tell her. She sullenly agreed with a muffled “Okay.”
As the woman walked out of the ward, Lu Nan watched her figure about to be swallowed by the doorframe and suddenly called out, “Be careful on the road.”
“Mm.”
Knowing that Lu Nan’s surgery was complete and that she just needed to recuperate properly afterward, Li Erning clearly explained some daily precautions to Aunt Zheng.
Outside the door, she took a card and inputted the number into another phone. Then she took Aunt Zheng’s hand.
“What’s wrong, Erning?” Aunt Zheng asked, puzzled.
“Record your fingerprint,” Li Erning said.
After the fingerprint was recorded, Li Erning handed both the card and the phone to Aunt Zheng.
She instructed, “You use the phone for now. Just follow the menu in the phone’s album. There’s money in this number—if it’s not enough, use this card. The card is bound to this number, and you know the password.”
“Erning, this…?” Aunt Zheng stared at the brand-new phone and the astonishing balance inside, too shocked to breathe. She said, “We still have plenty left from the grocery money before. This is way too much—we couldn’t spend it all.”
“It’s fine. Lu Nan’s leg won’t heal for at least a month.” Li Erning patted her shoulder. “I’m heading out on a business trip for the next few days. I can only relax if you take good care of her. If the money runs low or anything else comes up, remember to let me know.”
