TSBDRA 61: I’ve Accepted Your Confession

…

Xu Xishuang was very aware that he was dreaming.

He saw someone who looked almost exactly like him, yet was living a life completely different from his own. He didn’t know who the person was and wanted to walk over and say hello, but found himself unable to move. He could only stand there, as if separated by a hazy mist, forced to watch the other person’s life unfold—from birth all the way to death.

During that time, he occasionally heard voices from the outside world, but they were all blurry, and he couldn’t tell who was speaking.

“Why hasn’t he woken up yet? All his vitals are normal. This is so strange…”

“He will wake up. You have to hold on.”

“Rejection reaction… The fetus is healthy…”

Xu Xishuang shifted his gaze. When he saw the person on the other side of the mist swallow nearly an entire bottle of sleeping pills and weakly brace themselves against the bathroom mirror, his foggy mind suddenly felt like it had been stabbed with a needle. The sharp pain jolted him awake.

He had transmigrated into a book. He had become the character whose sole purpose was to bear a child. He had altered parts of the plot, the protagonist shou had fallen for someone else, and he himself had collapsed unconscious in the forest cabin—right in front of Yan Yushan.

What he had just seen must have been the belated memories of the original host.

Where was he now? A hospital? Was it because Chi Siyuan had ended up with someone else and the storyline had gone so far off track that it affected him too?

…Was he still alive?

The mist in front of him suddenly cleared. Xu Xishuang looked up and saw the original host walking slowly toward him. Xu Xishuang moved his legs and realized he could move too. Instinctively, he started walking toward the other.

They stopped at the same time, just one step apart. Xu Xishuang saw the person in front of him smile gently.

The other didn’t say anything, just looked at him with eyes full of tenderness and sorrow. And yet, Xu Xishuang felt as if he understood. He whispered, “It’s okay.”

Born with a strange illness, he had grown up a burden to his family. After his parents died in an accident, he dropped out of school and entered the entertainment industry to ease the burden on his grandparents. Even by the time they passed away, he still hadn’t found a cure for his condition.

Dragging his broken body through each day, clinging to life by a thread, every day felt more hopeless than the last. No family, no friends—rejected by the world because he had first rejected it. He didn’t know how much longer he could live, or when death would come. So he took matters into his own hands, ending his life with a bottle of pills.

He never imagined he would drag Xu Xishuang into all of this. He had resented the unfairness of fate, but he had never meant for anyone else to suffer because of his illness. He felt guilty and wanted to apologize to Xu Xishuang, but didn’t know where to begin.

Xu Xishuang wasn’t sure if the person in front of him was the lingering consciousness of the original host, or just a figment of his own imagination—but still, he said sincerely, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I’ve died once, too,” Xu Xishuang pressed his lips together. “To be reborn in this world and get a second chance at life… that alone is already a blessing.”

He blinked and decided to tell a harmless little lie. “I’ve already found a way to cure it. I’m going to live—really live—and live a long time. So you don’t have to feel guilty.”

Xu Xishuang saw the person in front of him lift the corners of his mouth slightly. He smiled back and was just about to say something more when a sudden, powerful sensation of weightlessness overtook him. His vision blurred, then everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the familiar ceiling of a hospital room.

Dr. Xu, who had been changing the IV beside him, was stunned for a few seconds by his sudden awakening. Then, regaining composure, he quickly pulled out his phone and sent a message to someone on the other end of the line.

Xu Xishuang moved his fingers and found his whole body weak and sore, so he didn’t try to sit up. He pressed his lips together and noticed they were moist—someone must have used a cotton swab dipped in water to keep them hydrated. His throat wasn’t dry either, he could just barely speak normally.

Dr. Xu knew this too. After sending the message, he put away his phone, sat down on the chair beside Xu Xishuang’s hospital bed, took out the medical chart, and asked, “How are you feeling? Is your body okay?”

Xu Xishuang found the question strangely familiar. He answered honestly, his voice slightly hoarse, “Not great.”

His whole body ached and felt weak, and his head felt like it was being pricked with needles. He didn’t even have the strength to turn his head, so he could only keep staring at the ceiling while answering Dr. Xu’s questions.

Dr. Xu immediately refuted him, “No, you’re doing great.”

Xu Xishuang: ?

“Do you remember coughing up blood before you passed out?” Dr. Xu said. “That blood… was truly miraculous. Just like in those wuxia novels where someone channels their internal energy to expel poison—that one mouthful of blood cleared all the toxins from your system and cured your illness. All your vitals are now unbelievably normal. And of course, the baby you’re carrying is perfectly healthy too—not affected at all.”

Xu Xishuang: …?

“While you were unconscious, my mentor, Professor Fred, came to visit and reviewed your medical records. He also ran a full examination on you,” Seeing the confusion and shock on Xu Xishuang’s face, Dr. Xu continued explaining, “After a lot of intense discussion, we believe we’ve finally figured out the real reason your body had been in such poor condition all this time.”

Xu Xishuang’s heartbeat quickened slightly. He closed his slightly dry eyes and asked hoarsely, “What’s the reason?”

Dr. Xu replied, “Your body had a severe and unusual rejection reaction… with itself.”

To this day, Dr. Xu still finds it hard to believe the diagnosis. Xu Xishuang’s organs showed no signs of transplantation. It was completely original and had no substitutions. How could someone possibly have a rejection reaction to their own body? It made no sense.

But the facts were right there. It was precisely this rare rejection that had caused Xu Xishuang’s organs to constantly malfunction—not enough to shut down entirely, but enough to keep him from using them properly. The body barely maintained basic survival, and the various complications combined to create his strange and fragile constitution, along with the never-before-seen symptom of random internal bleeding.

At first, Dr. Xu had flatly refused to accept Professor Fred’s diagnosis. It contradicted everything he had ever learned. Then he thought about the fact that Xu Xishuang could conceive and carry a child—something that defied known medical understanding—and realized that in a world this vast, the bizarre often made a strange kind of sense. So, in the end, he accepted the conclusion and passed it on to Xu Xishuang.

“While you were unconscious, your rejection response suddenly disappeared,” Dr. Xu said, frowning. “I haven’t been able to determine the exact cause yet, but my mentor, Professor Fred, has a theory…”

Dr. Xu recalled Professor Fred’s words—

“The human brain is an extraordinary thing. If a person refuses to acknowledge their existence in this world—if they believe they aren’t truly themselves—then perhaps it’s possible for them to develop a rejection response to their own body.”

Dr. Xu remained skeptical of this tongue-twister of a theory. It lacked any scientific backing, and he wasn’t one to easily accept unverified guesses. But to Xu Xishuang, the words hit like a hammer. His vision blurred again, and his body trembled slightly.

Dr. Xu immediately grew anxious. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“…I’m fine,” Xu Xishuang exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. He repeated, “I’m fine. I feel good.”

He could feel his strength returning.

“I think you’re in great shape now, too,” Dr. Xu agreed with a nod. He glanced at his phone and said, “Your agent is here to see you. Want to meet?”

“Mm, I want to see her.”

As he watched Dr. Xu get up and head toward the door, hand already on the knob, Xu Xishuang couldn’t hold back. He moved his fingers slightly and called out, “Where’s Yan Yushan?”

Dr. Xu paused mid-motion, then turned around, hands in his pockets, and replied, “During the week you were unconscious, Mr. Yan was by your side the whole time. I just informed him that you’d woken up. He said he’ll come see you after you finish meeting with the others who’ve come to visit.”

Xu Xishuang stared at the door as it closed, unsure how to feel.

He wanted to see Yan Yushan… but he was also afraid to. And yet, the fact that Yan Yushan wasn’t the first one to come see him left him feeling strangely disappointed.

Xu Xishuang lay quietly in bed for a while, replaying what Dr. Xu had just said, and felt his strength returning bit by bit. Then he heard the door open again. He turned his head and saw his manager, Zhao-jie, standing there with red-rimmed eyes.

Zhao-jie still didn’t know about his pregnancy. She had always treated Xu Xishuang like a younger brother, and ever since hearing he had collapsed on the show and fallen into a coma, she had been worried sick. She hadn’t slept well for days. Now, seeing him awake and safe, she finally let out a breath of relief.

“Don’t go on that show again. Focus on recovering first,” Zhao-jie said, her eyes still red. “I’ll figure something out about the breach-of-contract penalty…”

She was genuinely terrified that if Xu Xishuang joined the show again, he might not make it back. His health had always been poor—just filming one drama used to require half a year of recovery. Now he had done two back-to-back, and then immediately joined a variety show. How could something not go wrong?

It was her fault. She shouldn’t have believed him when he said this travel variety show would be easy. She should’ve stopped him. She didn’t care anymore about his relationship with Yan Yushan, or how many trending searches they hit, or how much PR would be needed. None of that mattered now. As long as Xu Xishuang was alive, everything else could wait.

“I’m fine, Zhao-jie,” Xu Xishuang said with a smile. “My body’s better now. Sorry for worrying you. If you don’t believe me, ask the doctor. I’ll keep getting better from here on out—joining the show won’t be a problem.”

Zhao-jie looked at him for a long moment, realizing he had made up his mind to return to the travel show. She had already heard from the doctor that his condition was improving. She also knew she could never talk him out of something once he had decided. So all she could do was remind him, “Then you have to be careful. Whatever you do, don’t leave Yan Yushan’s side.”

When she didn’t hear a response from Xu Xishuang, Zhao-jie frowned. “Yan Yushan is the one who can protect you the best right now. You only made it through this because he took care of you. And… Don’t you like Yan Yushan too?”

Xu Xishuang was so startled he nearly sat up in bed, stammering for once, “You…”

“Wondering how I knew, right?” Zhao-jie crossed her legs with a smirk. “With how cold you are to everyone else—if you didn’t like Yan Yushan, would you even bother with him? Let him into your room? Blush every time he’s near?”

She stopped there, not wanting to push too far and set him off. With a final sigh, she added, “If you want to go, then go. Just make sure you take care of yourself. I’m leaving now. Hope you recover soon and get discharged.”

Xu Xishuang let his tensed back relax. “Mm. Thank you, Zhao-jie. Bye.”

Watching her leave the room, Xu Xishuang had just started wondering when Yan Yushan would show up when he heard another knock at the door.

His heart tensed again. He slowly sat up, leaning against the headboard, raised his hand from under the blanket to smooth out his sleep-mussed hair, then felt his face—no hollowness there—before calling toward the door, “Come in.”

Chi Siyuan immediately burst through the door and rushed to his bedside, eyes brimming with tears. “Senior! I was so worried about you!”

It wasn’t Yan Yushan. Xu Xishuang paused for a second, then said, “I’m fine now. Don’t worry.”

He looked up at the person who followed Chi Siyuan into the room—shoulder-length hair, it was Song Yao.

Thinking about the current relationship between Chi Siyuan and Song Yao, Xu Xishuang blinked as he watched Song Yao walk over. Song Yao only met his eyes briefly before looking away, then casually grabbed Chi Siyuan, who was leaning over the edge of the bed, and placed a hand on his shoulder in an intimate gesture. He said to him, “The doctor said Senior Xu needs to rest. No loud noise.”

Chi Siyuan immediately clapped a hand over his own constantly-talking mouth, his round puppy eyes wide as he looked at Xu Xishuang. Loosening his hand a bit, he whispered, “Senior… is your illness because of me?”

“No,” Xu Xishuang said at once. “Don’t overthink it.”

Chi Siyuan believed him right away and finally relaxed. He had been nearly consumed by guilt these past few days, terrified that his sudden coming-out had upset Xu Xishuang emotionally and worsened his condition.

Then Song Yao suddenly said, “Yuanyuan, you forgot the gift you brought for Senior Xu.”

Chi Siyuan’s eyes widened, and he immediately jumped up and ran toward the parking garage. “I’ll be right back!”

With only Xu Xishuang and Song Yao left in the hospital room, Xu Xishuang looked at him, fully aware that Song Yao’s earlier comment had been a way to get Chi Siyuan to leave.

Sure enough, as soon as Chi Siyuan was gone, Song Yao’s posture changed. He looked straight at Xu Xishuang and said bluntly, “Your illness has something to do with Chi Siyuan, doesn’t it? You might fool that naïve kid, but not me.”

Xu Xishuang said nothing.

“I think there’s something off between you and Yan Yushan.” When he got no response, Song Yao just kept talking. “You obviously like each other—equally, at that. And yet you keep pushing him away.”

He gave a faint smile. “No need to be nervous. Isn’t it already public knowledge that Yan Yushan likes you? Your feelings for him… well, they’re not exactly hard to read either. Fine, I swear I won’t repeat anything I say to you today—not even to Chi Siyuan.”

“You probably don’t realize how much Chi Siyuan admires you. He’s got a classic case of imprinting…” Song Yao gave an exasperated expression. “From the beginning, he mistook that kind of emotional attachment for a crush. It took a hell of an effort on my part to get him to understand it wasn’t the same as romantic love. So if you ever say anything bad about me in front of that little idiot, trust me—he’d believe you over me in a heartbeat.”

Song Yao suddenly shifted the tone. “So from the start, I looked at you like a love rival—just like how you looked at Chi Siyuan.”

Xu Xishuang turned his head slightly, avoiding Song Yao’s gaze.

After a long pause, he exhaled, looked up, and met Song Yao’s eyes, calmly admitting, “Yes.”

A knowing expression crossed Song Yao’s face. “Then you can relax now. Yuanyuan likes me. He’s with me and I’m never giving anyone else a chance.”

Since Song Yao already knew, there was no need to keep hiding it. Xu Xishuang let his body relax. Maybe it was because Song Yao saw things too clearly, but he suddenly wanted to ask him a question. “If… if you knew that the person you love would one day fall in love with someone else, marry them, spend a lifetime with them—and everyone says they’re a perfect match, that they’re made for each other—would you still choose to be with him now?”

Song Yao was silent for a few seconds.

Then he raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Isn’t the future something that hasn’t happened yet? How can you be so sure it will? How do you know the person you love will definitely end up with someone else? Who cares what everyone else says about who’s a good match?”

“Love is possessive. It’s consuming. It’s selfish. Sometimes it’s even ugly and low. There’s nothing noble about it,” Song Yao said, locking eyes with Xu Xishuang. “Don’t blame me for being blunt, but seriously, Xu Xishuang—giving up the person you love just because of a future that might not even exist? What are you, a fool or a saint? Are your moral standards that high? Do you really have to be that hard on yourself?”

Song Yao was a screenwriter—a well-known one. He wrote about the many faces of life, and it was easy for him to see that Xu Xishuang was the kind of person raised in a wealthy, harmonious household. A little prince—polite, well-mannered, accustomed to getting everything he wanted without needing to fight for it. Aloof, proud, and wrapped in refinement.

Totally different from someone like Song Yao, who had clawed his way up from the slums.

Song Yao didn’t dislike people like Xu Xishuang. In fact, someone like that made a good friend. But that didn’t stop him from poking hard at Xu Xishuang’s awkwardness, flaws, and hidden pain—because sometimes, you had to hurt a little to wake up.

“If you like someone, then fight for them. Go after them. Isn’t the future something that can be changed?” Song Yao’s tone grew calm again. “Of course, now that I’ve said all this—if you’re still dead set on regretting it later, then there’s nothing I can do.”

With that, Song Yao fell silent, leaving Xu Xishuang to sit with his thoughts.

Before long, Chi Siyuan came huffing back into the hospital room, arms full of gifts. He placed a bouquet and a fruit basket on the table beside Xu Xishuang’s bed.

Xu Xishuang gave him a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Chi Siyuan grinned goofily.

He clearly wanted to stay and chat longer, but Song Yao, sensing his intention, looped an arm around his neck and pulled him close. “Senior Xu’s tired. He needs rest. Let’s not bother him anymore.”

Chi Siyuan believed him right away. “Oh, oh—then you get some rest, Senior. We’ll head out now.”

Xu Xishuang: …

Watching Song Yao lie without missing a beat, not even twitching an eyebrow, Xu Xishuang suddenly felt like he understood a little more of what Song Yao meant by “liking someone.”

After the two of them left, Xu Xishuang leaned back against the soft pillow at the head of the bed, idly rolling an apple in his hand as he replayed the conversation with Song Yao in his mind.

There was another knock at the door.

“Come in,” Xu Xishuang called out casually.

This time, the person who entered didn’t speak. The footsteps were steady, familiar—the sound he heard every night.

Xu Xishuang suddenly realized something. His heartbeat picked up with each step the other person took. He slowly turned his head.

After a week of constant care, Yan Yushan looked thinner. There was stubble on his jaw he hadn’t had time to shave, and he wore a black overcoat that seemed to wrap his entire presence in gloom.

His gaze passed over the apple in Xu Xishuang’s hand, then landed briefly on the fruit basket and bouquet by the bed. He knew exactly who had brought them. The heaviness around him seemed to grow even thicker.

Holding the apple, Xu Xishuang felt uneasy at Yan Yushan’s silence. He took the initiative to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me these past few days. I’m okay now…”

“You really like Chi Siyuan that much?” Yan Yushan suddenly interrupted Xu Xishuang.

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew things would spiral beyond repair but he couldn’t stop himself. These past seven days had been agonizing, emotions building to the brink, and the second he saw the apple in Xu Xishuang’s hand—the one Chi Siyuan had brought—he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Just imagining that Xu Xishuang had collapsed from heartbreak after hearing about Chi Siyuan and someone else, just imagining that Xu Xishuang had been avoiding his affection because he’d already fallen for another… the jealousy and ache in Yan Yushan’s chest surged, uncontrollable.

That bitter malice born from unrequited love spilled over as Yan Yushan said, “He’s already with someone else now. You don’t have a chance.”

Xu Xishuang held the apple in stunned confusion, completely at a loss for why Yan Yushan was suddenly saying all this.

His reaction struck deep into Yan Yushan’s heart. He shut his eyes, and the pain was so intense it sobered him slightly. His voice was rough as he said, “Don’t… don’t like Chi Siyuan anymore.”

Like me instead. I’m better than Chi Siyuan.

But the rest of his words never came out.

“What are you even talking about? I’ve never liked Chi Siyuan,” Xu Xishuang cut Yan Yushan off sharply, frowning. “I told you—”

Wait. Xu Xishuang suddenly remembered.

“…I told you that night. On your birthday. When you got drunk,” he said, looking at the stunned expression on Yan Yushan’s face. “You asked me if I liked guys like Chi Siyuan, and I told you no. I said I didn’t like him.”

And the next day, when Yan Yushan sobered up—he forgot.

Xu Xishuang felt a mix of exasperation and amusement, with a touch of disbelief. So Yan Yushan had been sulking for days… all over something that wasn’t even real. If Yan Yushan hadn’t blurted it out just now, Xu Xishuang wouldn’t have even known that he’d been treating Chi Siyuan like a love rival all this time.

Seriously, what even was this situation?

Looking at Yan Yushan’s face, Xu Xishuang felt a pang of tenderness. The resolve in his heart grew stronger. He casually set the apple—now clearly the object of Yan Yushan’s silent fury—on the bedside table, reached out, and tugged on Yan Yushan’s coat to pull him closer. Then he asked directly, “What you said before about wanting to pursue me, does that still count?”

Yan Yushan hadn’t fully processed Xu Xishuang’s earlier words. He blinked, then nodded. “Yeah.”

Xu Xishuang doesn’t like Chi Siyuan? Really?

“Even if I might die on the operating table giving birth… even if there’s no future,” Xu Xishuang paused, then gathered his courage and took Yan Yushan’s hand, “you still want to be with me?”

Xu Xishuang’s fingers were slightly cold. Yan Yushan instinctively held them tighter. He looked down and met Xu Xishuang’s serious gaze, and something began to take root inside him, fast and sure. His heart beat faster. The jealousy and bitterness melted away, replaced by nervous anticipation.

Yan Yushan swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse but steady as he answered, “I do.”

Even if it were only for a single day, he wanted to be with Xu Xishuang—and he would never let Xu Xishuang die on that operating table. Never.

“Then…” Xu Xishuang’s face flushed hot. He had received many confessions before, always turning them down with calm politeness. This was the first time he was confessing to someone himself. So this was what it felt like, his heart was pounding so loud it was deafening. So there really was a kind of love in this world that could make a person feel sweet without tasting dessert, that could make every emotion bloom with joy.

“I like you too.”

His grip on Yan Yushan’s hand tightened little by little, and his voice dropped to a soft whisper, “I’ve accepted your confession.”