ASFSODS 48

He had slept a bit too long earlier. After taking his medicine, Wen Chi thought he would just rest his eyes for a bit, but the side effects must’ve kicked in. Before long, he had drifted back into a groggy sleep. By the time he woke up, it was already dark outside.

Having taken his medicine and gotten some more sleep, Wen Chi felt a lot lighter, physically at least. He stretched lazily under the soft blankets, then turned his head—only to meet the eyes of the man sitting at the edge of his bed.

Jiang Siheng had noticed the moment Wen Chi stirred awake. But the boy had a habit of fussing around when he woke up like scratching his nose, rubbing his chin, stretching here and there. It wasn’t until all those little movements were done that Wen Chi finally noticed him.

Jiang Siheng reached out and placed his palm on Wen Chi’s forehead. “The fever’s gone. Anywhere else feeling off?”

Wen Chi blinked at him in a daze, then after a few seconds, came to his senses. “…Teacher Jiang.”

Jiang Siheng gave a low “Mm,” then helped him sit up and propped a pillow behind his waist.

Wen Chi stared without blinking, as if a little shocked to find the man there in his room. For some reason, it felt like it had been a long time since they had last seen each other.

The illness had left him even thinner than before. Jiang Siheng caught Wen Chi’s steady gaze and chuckled. “Gone dumb?”

“…” Wen Chi lowered his eyes and shook his head gently. “No.”

“Hungry? Dinner’s almost ready. Want me to bring it up to you?”

Wen Chi shook his head again. “No need, I’ll go down and eat.”

Jiang Siheng didn’t notice any shift in Wen Chi’s demeanor, assuming the boy was just tired. He got up, pulled a jacket from the closet, and helped Wen Chi put it on. Just as he reached out to support him down the stairs, Wen Chi dodged his hand. 

Jiang Siheng paused, a bit surprised. Before he could think too much, Wen Chi said helplessly, “Teacher Jiang, I’m just sick, not injured.”

There was nothing off in his tone or expression. Jiang Siheng looked at him again and it was still that innocent, harmless look.

After a beat of silence, Jiang Siheng asked, “Are you sure you can walk on your own?”

Wen Chi nodded. “I can.”

“Alright then.”

Even so, Jiang Siheng stayed close as they went downstairs, hovering a hand behind Wen Chi’s back just in case.

Main livestream room:

[Ahhh it’s the little brother! I wanna kiss him!]

[Why does Wen Chi look so haggard?]

[? He just saved someone, what do you expect? Haven’t you been online these past few days?]

[Ughhh he looks even skinnier. Teacher Jiang, please feed him something good.]

[To be fair, Wen Chi’s only been on two episodes, and he’s already had eye issues and a fever. If his health is that fragile, maybe he shouldn’t be on the show…]

[Agreed. This season is way more boring than the last.]

[Like Wen Chi chose to get inflamed eyes and a fever? Please. Anyone who’s been online knows what happened.]

[Come on, stop the pointless hate.]

Wen Chi had been feverish and unconscious for a whole day and night. No one else had been in the mood to go out, so everyone had spent the past two days resting at the guesthouse.

The living room was bright and warm, a stark contrast to the quiet upstairs. Zhou Ruoyao came out of the kitchen holding a lunchbox, and when he saw Wen Chi—who had somehow made it downstairs—he jumped in surprise. He quickly glanced around, set the box aside, and rushed over. “Xiao Chi Ge, what are you doing down here? I was just about to bring your food up.”

“Came down to eat.” Wen Chi had his hands in his pockets, inhaling the aroma of food in the air. “Is dinner ready?”

That was different from getting food delivered to him alone.

“Almost.”

Jiang Siheng walked over with a glass of water, shot a glance at Zhou Ruoyao, who was trying to convince Wen Chi to go back upstairs and eat in bed. He handed the glass to Wen Chi. “Drink some water.”

Wen Chi took it. “Okay,” He sipped a little, then looked up to see Zhou Ruoyao still staring at him. He gave a wry smile. “I’m feeling a lot better now. You guys don’t need to treat me like I’m made of glass. It’s just a regular fever.”

Zhou Ruoyao muttered under his breath, “It’s not the same.”

After confirming multiple times that Wen Chi was really okay, Young Master Zhou finally gave up trying to talk him into going back to bed.

The heater was on inside, but Wen Chi still needed a jacket. Among a group of people in short sleeves or light long-sleeves, he stood out in his thin fleece coat.

Qin Xiyu came in from outside, bringing a chill with him. He paused when he saw Wen Chi on the sofa, turned, and asked, “Feeling better?”

President Qin’s sudden show of concern left Wen Chi a little overwhelmed. “Much better.”

“Good to hear.”

Qin Xiyu’s words left Wen Chi puzzled, but what he said next helped Wen Chi understand.

Qin Xiyu glanced at the man beside Wen Chi and said meaningfully, “Someone can finally stop worrying now.”

Wen Chi froze for a second and turned to look at Jiang Siheng, who was lowering his gaze at his phone, acting as if he hadn’t heard a word Qin Xiyu said.

Main livestream chat:

[Is President Qin secretly a CP fan?]

[Come to think of it, what were Teacher Jiang and President Qin doing when they went out that day?]

[I want to know too. They were missing from the stream for almost the entire day.]

[Did they go handle the plaza incident? But that doesn’t make sense—why would it be their job?]

[Curious +1]

[Is it just me, or has En’en been unusually quiet ever since that incident at the plaza…]

[Damn, so I’m not the only one who felt that?]

[Not a CP fan, but I noticed too.]

Wen Chi looked at Qin Xiyu’s retreating figure, then shifted his gaze to the handsome face of the man beside him and quietly mumbled, “Teacher Jiang, can I ask…”

Before he could finish, a fair and slender hand reached over and pinched his lips into a Psyduck face.

Wen Chi: ?

Jiang Siheng patted the fluffy top of Wen Chi’s head. “Let’s eat first.”

Maybe because he had that question weighing on his mind, Wen Chi was completely distracted during the meal. He kept sneaking glances at Jiang Siheng and even almost mistook a slice of ginger for meat.

Jiang Siheng noticed it but didn’t say anything.

Once they finally finished eating, Wen Chi immediately turned to look at Jiang Siheng. He didn’t speak, trying to communicate his thoughts with his eyes.

Jiang Siheng looked at him for a few seconds, then let out a helpless sigh. He could already guess what the boy wanted to ask even without being told, but until things were certain, he couldn’t tell Wen Chi.

Wen Chi: “Hmm?”

Jiang Siheng said, “Qin Xiyu’s grandfather is hosting a birthday banquet at the beginning of next month.”

Across the room, Qin Xiyu glanced over with a puzzled look when he heard his name.

Wen Chi: “Huh?”

Jiang Siheng met Wen Chi’s eyes without dodging, and added, “So I might take a day off from the next livestream episode.”

Even though that didn’t quite line up with what Wen Chi was thinking, he still nodded. “Okay.”

Seeing him nod so obediently, even though he might’ve known Jiang Siheng was dodging the question, he didn’t press him on it.

Jiang Siheng looked at the boy’s pale little face and felt his heart melt.

Not long after, they saw the assistant director walk in with two staff members. Everyone was surprised because the assistant director normally stayed behind the scenes.

The assistant director wasn’t wearing a mic, so the livestream viewers didn’t hear what he said to the cast. All they could tell was that everyone’s expressions changed after he spoke.

Close to bedtime, Wen Chi returned to his room and had just taken off his mic. He hadn’t covered the camera yet when a voice call notification popped up on his phone. Qiao Congnan had started a group call.

Wen Chi wasn’t sure what it was about. He put the call on speaker and set the phone aside. “What?”

Qiao Congnan seemed a bit surprised to hear his voice. “Xiao Chi, you’re feeling better?”

Both Qiao Congnan and Huo Yinshi knew Wen Chi had been sick with a fever, but since he hadn’t regained consciousness, they couldn’t reach him directly.

“Yeah, a lot better now.” It was only now that Wen Chi realized a lot of people had been asking about his health tonight.

“That’s good,” Qiao Congnan yawned. Huo Yinshi hadn’t joined the call, so it was just him and Wen Chi on the line. “As long as you’re okay. I’m heading to bed then.”

Wen Chi: “…If you just wanted to ask that, couldn’t you have sent a message?”

“Messages can’t tell me if you’re really okay or not.” Qiao Congnan was clearly exhausted but still forced himself to stay awake. “When are you coming back? The guys want to take you out for something nourishing to help you recover.”

Before now, Wen Chi probably wouldn’t have had a definite answer. But—

“Tomorrow morning’s flight.”

There was a knock at the door. Wen Chi told Qiao Congnan to hold on, slipped on his slippers, and went to open it.

The moment the door opened, Jiang Siheng’s eyes landed on the glass of water and medicine sitting on the nightstand. He looked down slightly at the boy. “Did you take your medicine?”

“Yeah, I just did.” Wen Chi stepped aside to let him in. “Did you need something?”

“I just came to check if you remembered to take them.”

Wen Chi said, “How could I forget?”

Wen Chi’s phone was lying face up on the nightstand, with the voice call screen clearly visible. Jiang Siheng glanced at it, then quickly looked away.

“Teacher Jiang, what time is the flight tomorrow?” Wen Chi asked, then suddenly remembered they were still live and quickly added, “Maybe just send it to me on WeChat?”

Jiang Siheng chuckled at his slightly flustered expression. “I don’t know yet. The production team should send out the info later.”

“Oh, I see.”

Jiang Siheng didn’t really care what time the flight was. What he cared about was whether Wen Chi could physically handle the trip. “If you don’t feel up to flying back with everyone, we can stay a day or two longer.”

“Huh?” Wen Chi was stunned. “We can do that?”

Jiang Siheng nodded. “Yeah.”

To be honest, Wen Chi really didn’t feel like sitting on a plane for over ten hours. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Then I’ll cover my own ticket. I want to stay one more day.”

Jiang Siheng raised an eyebrow. “Why would you pay for your own ticket?”

Wen Chi said, “Because I’m not flying back with the group.”

“No need to pay. It’s just changing the date,” Jiang Siheng replied.

Wen Chi rubbed his nose. “Really okay? I’m kinda shy about it.”

Jiang Siheng said, “It’s fine. I’ve got thick skin so I’ll talk to them for you.”

Wen Chi: “…”

He’s not sure if that was necessary.

After a moment, he asked again, “Are you staying with me?”

Jiang Siheng gave a soft “mm,” looked down and messaged the production team, then answered Wen Chi, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone.”

Having someone familiar by his side naturally made Wen Chi happy. Hearing Jiang Siheng say that, he pursed his lips shyly.

Once the production team replied with an “OK,” Jiang Siheng put away his phone and turned to the second thing he had been paying attention to since entering the room.

He glanced casually at Wen Chi’s phone and said just as casually, “Seems like you’re still on a call with your friend.”

Only then did Wen Chi remember he was still on the call with Qiao Congnan. He picked up his phone and called, “Er Qiao,” but got no response from the other end.

Jiang Siheng saw that Wen Chi didn’t seem surprised and ended the call without another word.

Wen Chi noticed Jiang Siheng watching him and explained, “He probably fell asleep.”

Jiang Siheng said, “You two are close.” His tone wasn’t questioning.

Wen Chi nodded. “Him, and the one you met before—we basically grew up together, the three of us.”

While Wen Chi was talking, Jiang Siheng carefully watched his expression, making sure there weren’t any feelings beyond familial or friendly. The man smiled and nodded.