With Jiang Yu’s help, Yu Shiqing puts on his shirt and goes to the bathroom to take off his tights. Back in bed, he reads his script for a while. As he is about to sleep, he sees Jiang Yu stepping out of the shower room.
“You going to sleep?” Jiang Yu asks, coming over after Yu places the script by the bedside.
“Yes,” Yu nods. Jiang Yu lifts the covers and says gently, “Stay still.” He walks around the foot of the bed, takes a pillow, and places it under Yu’s injured right arm.
Once Jiang Yu finishes, Yu speaks up, “You should go to sleep too.”
“I’ll stay with you.” Jiang Yu says softly.
Yu shakes his head, “The cast needs six weeks. You can’t stay up with me for a month straight.”
“If it’s necessary, I will.” Jiang Yu’s face is serious.
Yu starts to get up, and Jiang Yu holds his shoulders softly. “What are you doing?”
Yu replies, “I can’t sleep if I know you’re guarding me all night. We might as well sit until morning.”
“You need rest more than I do.” Jiang Yu frowns. “I’m staying up to make sure you don’t move your arm. You still need to play cello, and your arm must heal properly.”
Yu looks at him quietly. Jiang Yu straightens, avoiding eye contact. “Why are you staring?”
Yu says quietly, “Don’t treat others’ mistakes as your burden.”
Jiang Yu instinctively turns to meet his gaze. Yu adds, “It’s not your fault. You don’t need to feel guilty.”
This accident nobody wanted. Jiang Yu has already done enough he shouldn’t carry this guilt. Jiang Yu pauses, then says, “…Okay.” His concern doesn’t come entirely from guilt, but he can’t explain that, so he keeps it inside.
Yu quietly says, “Go sleep.” Jiang Yu glances at him once, then returns to his bed. The lights go out.
Yu lies down, breathing softly. Jiang Yu shifts silently to lie facing him. Time passes.
“Jiang Yu.” Yu’s voice wakes him. Jiang Yu’s eyes flicker. Yu hasn’t opened his eyes, so he pretends to be asleep. Yu doesn’t wait; he murmurs, “Close your eyes to sleep.”
Jiang Yu stays silent but can’t help a small smile. He turns away and closes his eyes. Yu hears the movement and smiles softly before drifting off.
Morning
Yu wakes to find Jiang Yu already dressed, sitting by the table looking at the menu. When Yu opens his eyes, Jiang Yu stands, helps him sit up, secures the sling, and asks, “Do you want milk or soup?”
“Just water,” Yu replies.
“No.” Jiang Yu hands him the toothbrush. “You need calcium and protein.”
Yu shrugs: “Do as you like.”
Then Jiang Yu says, “Okay, you’ll have milk and soup.”
Yu pauses at the bathroom door, about to change his answer, but Jiang Yu already orders. He asks, “Why are you stopping?”
“It’s done.” Yu says. Yu brushes his teeth.
A luxurious breakfast appears, all high in calcium and protein. Yu eats half at first sight. To avoid waste, he messages the group to join them. Since rest of the meals and schedule were out of Jiang Yu’s control and with Ji Chen’s trained support it turns into a rather indulgent day.
Evening
After dinner, amid streaming fans’ reluctance, the live show ends. Yu was supposed to stay another night, but because of his arm, Ren Bai rescheduled his flight for today. Jiang Yu arranged the same change for Meng Chen. As the director called cut, the two said goodbye and left first.
On the flight to the airport, Ren Bai keeps asking about Yu’s injury. As they board, he asks, “Six weeks of a cast, how long does the sling last?”
Jiang Yu says, “Three weeks.” Yu’s arm isn’t very badly injured; after three weeks, he can use it again but avoid heavy lifting.
Ren Bai asks, “Any precautions?” Jiang Yu sends him a note. Ren Bai can’t respond.
On the plane, he tells Yu: “You’ll rest at home these weeks and we can all stay busy.” Their real priority now: preparing Lin Shuang’s legal case. Yu nods.
The group doesn’t notify Lin Shuang of the flight change. When the men return, the house is clean, laundry hung and it’s late. Jiang Yu asks, “Do you want to sleep?”
Yu puts down his small suitcase. Jiang Yu studies him and suddenly asks, “Do you want to sleep in my room now?”
Yu is surprised: “Your room?”
Jiang Yu casually says, “It’s more convenient.”
Yu smiles: “That’s not necessary.”
“Who said that?” Jiang Yu’s tone turns serious. “The doctor said the early stage is critical. If you slip getting up, you could be disabled. You moving rooms just for five minutes of convenience?”
This isn’t an excuse he believes it’s fact: the odds of slipping are low, but consequences severe.
Yu says: “She’s doing this for you.”
“I’m doing it for her.” Jiang Yu replies. “Your arm’s hurt; she’s filing the lawsuit and caring for your sister. Moving could add stress.”
Yu furrows his brow, considering this. Jiang Yu picks up a drink, the glass covering half his face, but his gaze holds steady.
Finally, he asks quietly, “What do you think?”
