Chapter 11: A Basin of Hot Water, Or Ice?

“By the way, last night you… you fainted from severe anemia. How did you become severely anemic?”

Guan Qing was about to speak when he noticed a young nurse, who had come to change the IV drip, blushing as she secretly glanced at Xie Xu. She even pulled out her phone, quietly switching it to camera mode. Guan Qing quickly stopped her.

Xie Xu’s gaze landed on them. He curved his lips into a smile, then raised a forefinger to his lips, gesturing ‘shush’ to the young nurse.

“Could you pretend you didn’t see me?” he asked.

The young nurse’s face flushed crimson. Clutching her chest as if overwhelmed, she pushed her cart away.

The room fell silent once more.

Guan Qing still felt incredibly tired, a weariness born of a narrow escape. The thing he had worried about for so long hadn’t happened—he believed Xie Xu, simply because Xie Xu said it.

He believed Xie Xu did not like Jiang Lu.

Despite having just woken from a long sleep, he felt drowsy again almost immediately. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep for a moment. When he opened them again, he saw Xie Xu watching him, his gaze deep and tender, reflecting the clear light from the window.

Seeing Guan Qing open his eyes, Xie Xu froze, his expression rapidly hardening as he averted his gaze.

Guan Qing: “…”

“Xie Xu… er, Mr. Xie,” Guan Qing mused, “don’t you have to work?”

Xie Xu looked away as he replied, “No.”

He clearly had no desire to elaborate.

Guan Qing found it awkward to press further. Seeing Xie Xu’s reluctance to speak with him, he closed his eyes.

Xie Xu stared at Guan Qing’s reflection in the window for a while. When Guan Qing seemed to have fallen asleep, he quietly turned his eyes back to him.

He knew his own expression must look utterly foolish, even without a mirror to confirm it.

He resembled a wealthy magnate, grinning foolishly over his piles of gold and silver.

To his surprise, Guan Qing suddenly opened his eyes, stifling a laugh as he asked, “Why are you looking at me?”

‘Because you’re handsome.’

Xie Xu, of course, couldn’t say that. After a moment’s thought, he replied, “Why would I look nowhere else but at you? It must be your fault. You should reflect on that properly.”

‘So handsome, indeed, they should reflect on it.’

His words were full of roguish charm, yet also bore a slight resemblance to a grade director scolding female students for wearing makeup in high school.

Guan Qing: “…Alright.”

Seeing that it was almost time, Xie Xu went out and returned with several meal boxes. “It’s about time,” he said. “Eat lunch, rest a bit, and I’ll take you home to sleep.”

Guan Qing had only consumed half a bowl of porridge and felt somewhat full. He told Xie Xu, “You don’t have to look after me; I can manage on my own.”

Moreover, Xie Xu’s face was very pale, indicating he wasn’t feeling particularly well either.

He would much rather Xie Xu go home and rest than see him bustling about here.

Xie Xu stated expressionlessly, “I’m afraid something might happen to you.”

‘What a thing to say…’

Guan Qing gazed at the sunspots cast upon the floor, even experiencing a slight ringing in his ears.

Xie Xu continued, “—Who else would I claim all that deposit money from?”

He didn’t look at Guan Qing, though his ears were slightly red.

Guan Qing: “…”

Guan Qing: “You can ask my mom. My bank card is directly linked to hers.”

Xie Xu handed him a spoon and chopsticks, opening the meal boxes one by one. The good temper he’d shown the young nurse had vanished, replaced by an irritable tone. “Stop talking nonsense. Eat.”

There weren’t many dishes, but they looked reasonably appetizing.

Guan Qing took a bite.

Xie Xu watched his expression, trying to sound casual as he asked, “How does it taste?”

Just by looking at his expression, Guan Qing knew Xie Xu had cooked the meal himself, likely borrowing the hospital kitchen and preparing it in a hurry—he probably hadn’t even tasted his own cooking. Guan Qing struggled to swallow the indescribable concoction, forcing a smile. “It’s good.”

Xie Xu tasted it skeptically, his face quickly turning green. He snatched all the dishes from Guan Qing’s hands, covered them, and made to throw them into a garbage bag.

“Don’t throw them away! I think they’re quite tasty! Really!” Guan Qing panicked, grabbing the bed rail, trying to sit up.

Xie Xu quickly disposed of the meal boxes and returned to help him, but Guan Qing pushed him away with trembling hands.

Xie Xu paused, then tried to explain, “That stuff isn’t fit for human consumption. I’ll ask Xiao Zhang to get some takeout from Jiang Yunxuan.”

From his vantage point, Guan Qing was backlit, his eyes slightly red. He quickly pulled the blanket up to cover his face, curling into a ball.

“What’s wrong?”

Xie Xu felt a little helpless, standing to the side like a child who had done something wrong.

Guan Qing shook his head. Even when Xiao Zhang brought the new food and Xie Xu urged him to eat, he still shook his head, saying he wasn’t hungry.

He maintained a posture of resistance.

Guan Qing felt immense distress, and even he was surprised by how deeply this matter upset him.

He truly wanted to eat the meal Xie Xu had prepared.

Xie Xu had not cooked many times; occasionally, at Guan Qing’s request, he would briefly wield a spatula, but he had almost never cooked a complete meal from start to finish on his own.

Those few unappetizing dishes held profound significance for Guan Qing; he cherished them deeply.

Xie Xu had cooked for him for the first time. How could he not be happy?

Moreover, did this mean his importance in Xie Xu’s life had grown a little more?

At the very least, he was the person who had ‘eaten Xie Xu’s home-cooked meal.’

If nothing else worked, then just in this way, letting the name Guan Qing deepen its impression in Xie Xu’s mind was good enough.

He also felt childish, like someone collecting cards in a game. These ‘cards’—’eating Xie Xu’s cooking,’ ‘chatting with Xie Xu until three in the morning’—were all so insignificant, yet he found endless joy in them.

He even regarded them as the highest achievements in life.

Xie Xu probably couldn’t understand such a thing.

The watch Xie Xu gave him, he wore for six years. Later, during a business trip, a friend lost it, and he blocked all of that friend’s contact information, severing ties.

That night, in the middle of nowhere, he searched an entire night with a flashlight in the small ditch where it was lost, but he couldn’t find it.

He still remembered that feeling of near despair, standing in the water.

After the business trip, upon returning home, the only thing he wanted to do was curl up in Xie Xu’s arms and cry, but Xie Xu wasn’t there.

He opened a movie Xie Xu had acted in. At the opening monologue of the male protagonist, he spoke to the computer screen:

—“I’m sorry, I lost the watch you gave me.”

Xie Xu’s narration was low and deep: “In my life, there were once spring, autumn, and summer.”

—“I didn’t mean to… I’ve already broken off contact with that friend.”

Almost a whisper, Xie Xu’s final syllable dissipated into the rising wind: “Now, only winter remains.”

—“I’m so sad.”

He covered his eyes, facing the Xie Xu on the screen, as if not knowing how to vent his overwhelming pain, only repeating, “I’m so sad.”

And on the screen, Xie Xu smiled at him, gently and apologetically.

****

Xie Xu, fully disguised with sunglasses and a hat, drove his SUV out of the hospital parking lot like a thief.

Guan Qing had only managed a few bites of lunch, grudgingly taking two more when Xie Xu’s face was about to drop. He truly had no appetite.

Their relationship, after a brief warming, seemed to have plummeted back to its original state.

When they arrived, Xie Xu dropped him off downstairs. He hesitated for a moment, not asking the usual, ‘Won’t you invite me up for a bit?’ He looked at Guan Qing, who seemed… not particularly keen on him lingering.

Just as Guan Qing was about to say goodbye, he suddenly remembered something. “How much were my medical expenses in total?” he asked.

Xie Xu: “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t say ‘don’t worry about it.’ I’m asking you,” Guan Qing said, pulling out his phone. “What exactly is our relationship?”

Xie Xu’s reply of ‘a romantic relationship’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to stop himself just in time: “An employer-employee relationship.”

“So, does an employer pay for an employee’s medical expenses?” Guan Qing asked patiently.

Xie Xu, resigned, said, “Let’s just say it’s insurance your employer took out for you, alright?”

“It’s not a work injury,” Guan Qing disagreed vehemently. “Are you not going to tell me?”

“Alright,” Xie Xu conceded, “you have medical insurance. It’s ninety in total.”

“…”

Guan Qing looked at WeChat. A familiar contact from the hospital replied: “Including one day of hospitalization, it’s one thousand five hundred in total.”

‘A fine ninety yuan, indeed.’

He transferred two thousand yuan to Xie Xu via WeChat. “Here’s the medical expenses, and the Didi fare, all together.”

Xie Xu didn’t want to accept it, but seeing Guan Qing’s expression, as if refusing would mean severing ties, he could only take it.

Guan Qing breathed a sigh of relief.

Children from poorer families are often more sensitive to money.

They grew up immersed in the suspicious glances of those around them; if something went missing in town, their family was always the first to be suspected. He had been pointed at, whispered about, and cursed behind his back for his entire childhood.

It was as if poverty itself was a crime.

And this crime carried a life sentence. Even after he grew up and no one suspected him anymore, those probing stares, the mockery and suspicion, the murmurs of gossip remained in his mind. The hidden eyes behind him never truly vanished.

When he was with Xie Xu before, Xie Xu had directly handed all his bank cards over to Guan Qing to manage. He didn’t want to spend Xie Xu’s money, so he invested it all for him, covering all household expenses himself.

Xie Xu, on the other hand, was a spendthrift, constantly asking him for money. Guan Qing had originally intended to pursue a master’s degree in psychology. However, with his mother needing money and the household expenses to manage, he found himself in desperate need of funds. By chance, through a friend’s introduction, he stumbled into the matchmaking industry.

When Guan Qing arrived home, he opened the window and saw Xie Xu still downstairs. Xie Xu had lowered his car window and was sitting there, smoking for a while. He was even still wearing his sunglasses, glancing up in Guan Qing’s direction.

The two made eye contact across a distance of several dozen meters.

Xie Xu paused, then brought his index and middle fingers together to his brow, giving a distant salute. He seemed to still have a cigarette in his mouth, pulling at the corner of his lips, a mischievous smile playing on his face.

“…”

Guan Qing abruptly closed the window.

…Damn, he looked so handsome.

****

Days later, Xie Xu once again used a ‘tyrannical clause’ as an excuse to force Guan Qing to go out for dinner.

Guan Qing felt truly helpless, yet he didn’t know how to refuse. He thought, ‘Since Xie Xu isn’t dating Jiang Lu, since…’

He couldn’t allow himself to think any further.

They ate at a Japanese restaurant, which was sparsely populated and, naturally, very expensive.

After eating and drinking their fill, Xie Xu quirked his lips. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”

“No need,” Guan Qing quickly said. “I drove here.”

Xie Xu smiled.

Guan Qing, confused, watched as Xie Xu pointed to the glass on the table. Guan Qing had drunk most of the beverage in it. “I forgot to mention, this drink has a rather high alcohol content.”

Guan Qing: “…”

“Xiao Zhang,” Xie Xu turned around and asked, “How are the DUI checks in S City lately?”

Xiao Zhang, head bowed, replied diligently, “Recently, our city has intensified its efforts in checking for drunk driving. Inspection personnel have increased in various locations, penalties have become stricter, and serious offenses may even result in license suspension. Our goal is to prevent any life from…”

Xie Xu made a ‘stop’ gesture. “Enough,” he said, then turned back to Guan Qing, a smirk playing on his lips. “How about it? Let me see, you arrived around eight, and it’s well past ten now… Hey, Xiao Zhang.”

Xiao Zhang, quick on the uptake, immediately chimed in, “Mr. Guan’s current residence in the old district has no direct subway access. The last train departs at nine-thirty, and a taxi would take approximately an hour and a half.”

Guan Qing: “…”

Xie Xu twirled his car keys in one hand, the other in his pocket. He looked down at Guan Qing and asked softly, “How about it, Mr. Guan?… Shall I call you a Didi?”

Guan Qing could only nod. “Alright, thank you.”

Xie Xu opened his phone, tapped a few times, and showed Guan Qing a screen—his ride-sharing driver qualification was officially active today.

Guan Qing: “…” ‘You really went to all this trouble.’

Xie Xu: “Passenger with tail number 1588, destination Zijing Garden in the old district, estimated time—”

Guan Qing felt a surge of helplessness. “That’s enough, you. It’s one thing to act foolish at home, but out here you’re still—”

He froze mid-sentence.

Their interactions over the past few days had been like this. He couldn’t discern Xie Xu’s true feelings for him, so he had to tread carefully, as if on thin ice, afraid to speak intimately, striving to maintain a professional distance.

Had the recent atmosphere been too relaxed? He had even forgotten… they had broken up a long time ago.

Xie Xu also stopped, not continuing his sentence. He looked at Guan Qing, and in that instant, a tumult of emotions gathered in his eyes.

It was like walking alone through a landscape of ice and snow, only to suddenly have a basin of water poured from above.

He braced himself to be frozen from head to toe, yet it turned out to be a basin of hot water.

And in that fleeting moment, there wasn’t even time for surprise.

He opened his mouth, his lips curving up then falling, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“I’m sorry,” Guan Qing said first, head bowed. “I overstepped.”

He dared not look at Xie Xu’s expression.

He truly didn’t want this—to speak in their old tone, using the same words, as if seeking sympathy.

As if, reminding Xie Xu of the past… would make him fall in love with him again.

He knew it was impossible. And merely letting Xie Xu know he had once harbored such a thought already caused him immense pain.

He was already hurting enough, all his fatal wounds already exposed, he had already lost so much that he had almost nothing left.

He didn’t want to lose anything more.

Xie Xu remained silent for a long time.

After a while, he exhaled deeply. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

He tried hard to suppress the tremor in his voice.

‘So that basin of water was still ice-cold after all. So intensely hot and intensely cold feel the same in the first second.’

‘So he had been deluding himself again.’

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