A few seconds of silence passed, and Xu Yueliang’s blush crept from her neck all the way to her ear tips. Lin Qimian watched her steadily, thinking that letting this quiet moment stretch on forever wouldn’t be so bad.
But Xu Yueliang didn’t see it that way. Nervous and flustered, with her duties weighing on her mind, she ducked her head and tried to slip past Lin Qimian from the side.
Lin Qimian swayed slightly, simply trying to step out of the way, but Xu Yueliang reacted instantly, her hand shooting up to grip Lin Qimian’s arm.
“Doctor Lin, stand steady!” Xu Yueliang said.
Lin Qimian: “…”
Xu Yueliang’s palm was hot against her skin, her fingertips pale and delicate, her grip so firm that it sent a comforting warmth through Lin Qimian’s entire body.
“Mm.” She gave a soft acknowledgment, admitting her own frailty.
Hearing the softness in Lin Qimian’s voice, Xu Yueliang glanced at the long hair draping over her cotton pajamas at eye level—it looked soft too—and didn’t dare let go.
Still holding the thermos bucket in one hand, she kept the other firmly on Lin Qimian’s arm, steadying her as she urged, “Why don’t you lie down on the bed?”
Lin Qimian was very obedient. “Alright.”
Xu Yueliang guided her inside, her eyes fixed on their feet, her peripheral vision on the woman beside her. She paid no attention to her surroundings.
Only after helping Lin Qimian settle back into bed did she let out a long breath. “I should have messaged you first, Doctor Lin. I saw your place has a code lock, so next time you wouldn’t have to come open the door…”
“It’s fine,” Lin Qimian said. She opened her mouth, about to say it wasn’t that serious, but the lingering warmth of Xu Yueliang’s palm on her arm made her swallow the words.
Xu Yueliang misunderstood, growing even more flustered in her movements. “I didn’t mean I wanted your code or anything, I just…”
Lin Qimian looked up. “11728.”
Xu Yueliang froze.
Lin Qimian smiled. “That’s the code for now. I make a habit of changing it periodically, so fingerprint entry is more convenient.”
“Oh… oh…”
Lin Qimian shifted her position as she sat propped up against the pillows. “Right now… I don’t have much strength. Later, you can register your fingerprint yourself.”
Xu Yueliang’s eyes widened.
Lin Qimian ignored her surprised expression and kept adjusting her posture. Her “frailty” made it take a few tries before she got comfortable, ending up in a pose that looked utterly weak and defenseless.
“What did you bring?” Lin Qimian licked her lips. “I’m a little hungry.”
“Oh! Oh!” Xu Yueliang responded quickly, setting the thermos bucket down with swift movements. She opened it to reveal a simple spread of plain congee and small dishes, complete with utensils.
“I made it myself—more reliable than takeout…” Xu Yueliang arranged everything, opening the cutlery box and handing the spoon to Lin Qimian. “I asked Senior Sister Xiaoyi, and she said you weren’t picky about congee, but I remembered you don’t like anything too fishy, so I picked the freshest meat at the market and simmered it for a long time…”
“Mm.” Lin Qimian took the spoon, contemplating whether she should play up her illness and pretend she couldn’t hold it.
Xu Yueliang added, “Oh, right—the spoon and chopsticks are new, but I boiled them in water to sterilize them.”
Lin Qimian gripped the spoon tighter.
Xu Yueliang ladled out some congee and looked around awkwardly, her bent posture making her movements clumsy.
“Sit,” Lin Qimian said.
But there were no chairs by the bed, or anywhere in the bedroom for that matter—the nearest one was in the study.
Xu Yueliang hesitated, but Lin Qimian reached over and took the bowl from her hands, taking a small sip.
The congee was soft and glutinous, packed with bits of meat, and fragrant with preserved egg.
“It’s delicious,” Lin Qimian said sincerely.
Xu Yueliang smiled, lips pressed together shyly.
Lin Qimian’s gaze fell on the spot on the bed closest to her. “But if I’m eating congee, it’s hard to pick up the sides. Could you help me with that?”
“Sure! Sure!” With Lin Qimian making a request, Xu Yueliang’s movements became much smoother.
She sat down, picked up the chopsticks, held the dish bowl, and placed a bit of shredded carrot into Lin Qimian’s spoon.
Lin Qimian stared at the vibrant red shreds in her spoon.
Xu Yueliang encouraged her. “Now add a little congee and eat it—it’s really good~~”
Lin Qimian tried it. It really was good.
She smiled.
Xu Yueliang looked embarrassed, lowering her lashes as she asked, “What are you laughing at, Doctor Lin? Do you think this way of eating is childish…?”
“Mm,” Lin Qimian replied smoothly. “Just like kindergarten kids.”
Xu Yueliang’s face flushed bright red, but she still looked up, trying to explain. “It’s just… more convenient this way.”
“Mm.” Lin Qimian proactively held out her spoon.
Xu Yueliang quickly added some food. “Try this pickled beans—they’re full of flavor~”
The two repeated the motions, their coordination seamless.
After downing more than half a bowl of porridge, Lin Qimian felt her entire body warming up, even sensing that her body under the covers was getting a bit hot.
But she wasn’t sure whether this warmth came from the food or from the person sitting by the bed, feeding her.
She looked at Xu Yueliang, who had skipped makeup for once today, her outfit far from fancy.
A hoodie paired with jeans, her long hair simply tied into a messy bun.
She looked very casual, perfect for getting chores done.
Lin Qimian smiled again.
As long as Xu Yueliang stayed by her side, as long as she could watch her, Xu Yueliang’s every gesture, every thought, became as clear and straightforward as a child’s drawing.
But if Xu Yueliang wasn’t there, if she only existed in social media posts, in live stream videos, or in Lin Qimian’s memories, she turned into a distant moon in the sky—visible, yet forever out of reach.
Lin Qimian wanted her close by.
Xiao Yi had said to drop the mask and voice her needs.
“I…” Lin Qimian said, “I’ve never eaten like this before.”
Xu Yueliang: “Eh, really? Not even as a kid?”
Lin Qimian shook her head. “No, my mom was really strict and never fed me like that. My dad was always busy with work and didn’t look after me much.”
Xu Yueliang’s cheeks flushed pink, her expression flustered and unsure. “Then doing it this way… are you not, not used to it?”
“A little.” Lin Qimian’s eyes curved into a smile. “But it’s really comfortable.”
“Ah…” Xu Yueliang paused, averting her gaze as she burst into “Hahaha” laughter.
“No surprise there—it’s the lazy glutton’s method from someone like me. Of course it’s gotta be comfortable…”
Lin Qimian: “I want to eat dinner like this too.”
Xu Yueliang: “Huh?”
Lin Qimian handed the empty bowl to her and slid back under the covers. “Takeout tastes awful, and I have no energy. I want to eat your cooking right here in bed.”
“Ah, sure.” Xu Yueliang agreed super quick, but she stood up and started bustling around, clearing the bowls and chopsticks. “Then I’ll… go wash these…”
Lin Qimian didn’t act like a host at all, not budging an inch. “Mm.”
Xu Yueliang reached the bedroom door and peered out. “Kitchen’s to the left after you go in, right?”
Lin Qimian: “Mm. There’s a dishwasher—just toss them in.”
Xu Yueliang headed out. “No need to go to that trouble for just these…”
Lin Qimian listened to her muttering and buried herself completely under the covers.
The weather wasn’t cold yet, and the thin quilt filtered through an orange glow, like a fairy-tale world only a child could discover.
Lin Qimian clutched the quilt’s edge with both hands, smiling as she felt her cheeks heat up.
Xu Yueliang was her fairy-tale world.
In just a few minutes, her fairy-tale world came right back to her side.
“Doctor Lin, what do you want for dinner?” Xu Yueliang asked. “I checked the fridge—might be short on a few things.”
Once that door opened, Lin Qimian laid out her demands like a lion with a big mouth, utterly shameless.
Still buried under the covers, she rattled off a string of dish names, then politely tacked on: “Any of them are fine, whatever works for you.”
Xu Yueliang’s voice floated lightly, her tone lilting high like a kindergarten teacher coaxing a naughty kid: “Hey, guess what~~ Moon can make all those dishes~~”
“Really?” Lin Qimian threw back the covers.
The motion tousled her hair, and somehow one button on her pajamas had come undone, exposing her snow-white neck and a mole right at the center of her snow-white chest.
Xu Yueliang’s gaze landed on that mole, her eyes darting in panic as her face turned beet red.
Lin Qimian reached out. “Xu Yueliang, are you running a fever too?”
“Ah, no way!” Xu Yueliang denied it flat-out, slapping both hands over her cheeks and deflecting fast. “Your place… your place is kinda hot.”
“It is kinda hot.” Lin Qimian let her outstretched hand drop to her own forehead. “Mm…”
Xu Yueliang rushed over. “Fever flaring up again?”
Lin Qimian: “Can’t check it myself…”
Xu Yueliang made a beeline for the thermometer on the bedside table. “Let’s measure it…”
“Don’t wanna.” Lin Qimian pulled out all the stops like she was drunk, frowning as she shot down the perfectly reasonable suggestion. “Thermometer’s too cold.”
Xu Yueliang: “Want me to warm it up for you?”
Lin Qimian: “Then it won’t read accurate.”
Xu Yueliang: “…”
Lin Qimian just looked at her, saying nothing.
Xu Yueliang couldn’t hold her gaze for even three seconds before she gave in, setting the thermometer down with a resigned air. She strode over and suddenly cupped Lin Qimian’s head in her hands.
In an instant, the orange glow loomed closer.
Xu Yueliang pressed her forehead to Lin Qimian’s—warm yet cool—and their breaths tangled fiercely together, moist and hot.
Lin Qimian couldn’t make out Xu Yueliang’s eyes; they were too close, so close their eyelashes could brush against each other.
She could only lower her gaze, lower her gaze again, and there were those lips, right in front of her.
Xu Yueliang’s lips were a fresh, tender pink, blending into the light until it made her head spin.
For a moment, Lin Qimian didn’t know whether to try controlling her breathing, or her heartbeat—or perhaps that unnatural heat surging up from deep, hidden between her legs.
Fortunately, the next second, Xu Yueliang pulled away.
She was even more flustered than Lin Qimian, her panic written all over her face. She even fanned herself with one hand before blurting out an absurd conclusion. “Doctor Lin, you’ve got a fever again—and it’s a pretty high one!”
“Mm.” Lin Qimian lifted a hand to cover her face, laughing softly. “Yeah, a fever.”
Xu Yueliang pressed on. “We should take your temperature properly. See if you need some fever meds, or maybe head to the hospital.”
Lin Qimian’s throat felt parched and raspy. “No rush. I just want some water first.”
“Oh, right!” Xu Yueliang trotted out of the room, only to double back halfway and grab Lin Qimian’s water cup. She somehow found the water dispenser in the apartment without any trouble and returned with a cup of warm water.
“Here, Doctor Lin. Drink this.” She held it out with both hands.
Lin Qimian reached for it. Xu Yueliang must have been worried she’d drop it, because she pulled one hand back—but left the other there.
Lin Qimian gripped it firmly.
She looked up. Xu Yueliang hadn’t let go yet and was staring at her with wide eyes.
They locked eyes. A second later, Xu Yueliang yelped “Ahh!” and yanked her hand free. “Sorry, sorry, Doctor Lin! I didn’t mean to…”
Lin Qimian’s fingertips loosened. The cup tumbled to the floor.
There was a carpet, so it didn’t shatter—but all the water splashed right onto Xu Yueliang’s pant leg.
“Ah, sorry,” Lin Qimian said.
This time, though, she had done it on purpose.
