CTS 45

After being caught in the rain all day, Shen Mo came down with a fever that night. He burned up with confusion and delirium, vaguely aware that a doctor had come to his home to give him a fever-reducing shot. In his fevered sleep, he kept calling Zhou Yang’s name. He remembered there had been a day like this before, when he called for Zhou Yang again and again, but Zhou Yang never showed up.

This time, though, someone was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding his hand tightly.

Shen Mo was weak and took several days to recover. By the time he was able to get out of bed, the apartment had been completely transformed. The previously messy living room was spotless, the refrigerator was stuffed with fresh fruits and vegetables, and some of the old furniture had been replaced. His Zhou Yang was sitting on the couch like a nobleman lowered to the mundane, directing a housekeeper to cook porridge for him.

Shen Mo walked over and said, “Zhou Yang.”

The man responded vaguely, then picked up a few bottles of medicine from the table and said, “These two are to be taken after meals, twice a day, two pills each time. This one is for bedtime, just one pill. And this one…”

He explained the instructions for each medication in full, then added, “Take them on time every day. I’ll come back in three days and take you to the hospital for your follow-up.”

Shen Mo only remembered the last part and asked, “You’re leaving now?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not staying?”

The man paused for a moment and said, “I have work to do.”

“But before…”

Before Shen Mo could finish his sentence, the man’s phone rang. He picked it up, listened for a few seconds, and said in a calm tone, “Understood. I’ll return to the office now.”

After hanging up, he turned back to remind Shen Mo once more, “Don’t forget to take your medicine.”

Shen Mo opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but in the end, he said nothing. He simply watched the man walk away. The housekeeper left after the porridge was done. Shen Mo ate alone, took his medicine, and had nothing else to do, so he resumed staring blankly out the window.

He didn’t understand why Zhou Yang had to leave.

But it didn’t matter. He said he would come back in three days, didn’t he?

In the days that followed, the housekeeper came regularly to cook for Shen Mo. On the third day, the man did come as promised. Shen Mo wasn’t even sure how time had passed. It was only when he saw him that he felt some life return to his expression.

The man was just as distant as before. He first asked if Shen Mo had taken his medicine, then drove him to the hospital. This time there were no extensive tests. Shen Mo simply chatted casually with the doctor, and that was considered the end of the check-up. As they were leaving, Shen Mo overheard the doctor say to the man, “It’s post-traumatic stress response. It will take time to heal.”

Shen Mo found it strange. He didn’t feel sick at all.

On the way back, he tried bringing up several topics, but the man responded half-heartedly, neither warm nor cold. Shen Mo couldn’t understand why Zhou Yang had changed so much. Back when they had first gotten together…

Shen Mo’s mind drifted. His memory had been worse lately. He could no longer recall many things from the past.

He hadn’t slept again the night before. Now the sun was shining, and the car ride was smooth and fast. He started to feel drowsy. But he didn’t dare fall asleep. He forced his eyes open and looked at the man, then looked again. And as he kept looking, he slowly drifted off.

In his dream, he saw endless darkness.

Countless hands reached out from beneath the ground, clutching him tightly, pinning him down, grinding his bones bit by bit, devouring every drop of his blood, every piece of his flesh.

“Ah—”

Shen Mo jolted awake from the nightmare. It was already dark outside. The car had stopped at an unfamiliar roadside, and that man’s face was very close, watching him intently.

Shen Mo was soaked in cold sweat.

Everything in the dream had felt too real, as if it had truly happened before, as if he had once been torn to pieces while still alive.

The man reached out and gently wiped the sweat from Shen Mo’s temples with his cool fingers.

Shen Mo trembled slightly and said, “Sorry, I accidentally fell asleep.”

The man asked, “You had a nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“Often?”

“Sometimes.”

Shen Mo wasn’t good at lying. The man immediately exposed him. “Your face looks terrible. Is it because you’re too afraid to sleep at night?”

Shen Mo tried in vain to deny it. “No…”

But the man didn’t say anything more. He started the car again.

Shen Mo noticed the route was wrong and grew nervous. “Zhou Yang, you’re going the wrong way.”

“I’m not.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place. You shouldn’t be living alone in that apartment.”

Shen Mo was usually gentle, always known for his good temper, but now he suddenly cried out, “No.”

The man asked, “Why not?”

Shen Mo said, “I have to stay home and wait…”

Wait for what? Wait for Zhou Yang? But Zhou Yang was right beside him.

His mind was in chaos. He only knew he had to keep waiting. He completely forgot how dangerous it was to act out in a moving car and nearly lunged for the steering wheel.

The man had no choice but to brake and stop the car. He turned and looked straight at Shen Mo.

Shen Mo stared back, unwavering.

The man finally relented. “Fine. We’ll go home.”

After all that, they returned to the small rented apartment. It was the place they had rented after graduating, a space he and Zhou Yang had decorated together. Shen Mo didn’t understand why he suddenly disliked it.

They ordered takeout for dinner. After they finished eating, the man didn’t leave. He brought a quilt over and lay down on the sofa.

Shen Mo grew even more confused. “Why aren’t you sleeping with me?”

The man ignored him and simply waved him over. “Come take your medicine.”

Shen Mo obediently took it.

That night, Shen Mo left the bedroom door open. The door faced the sofa, so he could see Zhou Yang clearly. After saying goodnight, he turned off the lights and hid under the blanket, peeking at the man.

The sofa was too small. The man was tall, with long legs, and looked like he might fall off at any moment. He kept tossing and turning, and Shen Mo’s eyes followed him with each movement.

The man noticed his gaze and looked toward the bedroom.

Shen Mo quickly shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. After a while, he heard the man speak softly, almost like talking to himself. “In your eyes, is everyone Zhou Yang? Or is it just me?”

Shen Mo found it funny. Why was Zhou Yang talking in riddles again? He opened his eyes and replied firmly, “Of course you’re the only one who’s special.”

The man curved his lips slightly. It looked like a smile in the dark, but there was no warmth in it.

Shen Mo suddenly felt uneasy and called out, “Zhou Yang?”

The man took a long time to respond. When he finally did, his voice was softer than ever. “Go to sleep. I’m here.”