Chapter 111

After finishing his shower, Pei Yiyan emerged to find Shen Yuqing already in bed, leaning against the headboard as he yawned and played a game, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat.

Was gaming really that fun?

Pei Yiyan lowered his gaze and slowly walked over before climbing into bed.

“It’s cold in here,” he remarked.

The room was indeed cooler than usual. Though today had been hotter than most, it wasn’t unbearable enough to warrant turning on the air conditioning.

Shen Yuqing hummed in agreement. “It’s hot.”

It had been sweltering all day, and once Pei Yiyan fell asleep, he’d inevitably cling to Shen Yuqing like a furnace, making things even worse. After some deliberation, Shen Yuqing had decided to turn on the AC if only to salvage his own sleep quality.

By now, he’d grown accustomed to Pei Yiyan’s clingy midnight habits and could sleep through them just fine. But the heat? That was another matter entirely.

What’s more, Pei Yiyan didn’t seem aware of his own nighttime behavior.

Shen Yuqing had initially wanted to bring it up, but every time the words rose to his lips, he swallowed them back down.

What would be the point?

Even if he mentioned it, Pei Yiyan would still end up glued to him in his sleep.

Shen Yuqing glanced at him. “Going to bed?”

Pei Yiyan had been exhausted lately, so he nodded. “Yeah.”

What else could he do, anyway? He was still playing the role of a “blind man.”

Shen Yuqing made a noise of acknowledgment just as his game reached its conclusion. Yawning, he set his phone aside.

His sleep schedule was practically textbook-perfect at this point, yet somehow, he still found himself constantly drowsy.

He switched off the light and burrowed under the covers. He needed to fall asleep before Pei Yiyan otherwise, he’d never manage it later.

His consciousness slipped away almost instantly. Meanwhile, Pei Yiyan was still mentally organizing his work schedule for the next day when he heard the steady rhythm of breathing beside him.

Already asleep?

Pei Yiyan couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. Had it even been five minutes?

How did Shen Yuqing manage to sleep so soundly?

He turned his head. Though the room was dim, he could still make out the faint outline of Shen Yuqing, fast asleep and utterly at peace.

The university’s sports festival had recently kicked off, and it was indeed draining. Pei Yiyan exhaled softly and decided to stop overthinking. Closing his eyes, he followed Shen Yuqing into slumber.

Fire engulfed the train carriage. Pei Yiyan sat motionless on the ground, watching coldly as the flames consumed everything.

Another dream.

Lately, he’d been trapped in this recurring nightmare the day his parents had died.

In his dreams, they had perished thousands upon thousands of times. What had once sent him into shock now left him numb.

All Pei Yiyan wanted was for the nightmare to end. But his thoughts felt tethered, as though bound by invisible chains. He couldn’t stand up, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

All he could do was watch helplessly as they died again, revived, died once more, and revived again.

An endless, torturous cycle.

Then, the rain began to fall.

Pei Yiyan felt the droplets land on his skin, growing heavier until they extinguished the flames, leaving only thick plumes of smoke rising into the sky.

It was then that he realized he could move again.

He stood, though he already knew his parents were gone. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from rushing toward the wreckage.

But this time, the train was empty.

There was nothing.

Pei Yiyan frowned, the strange feeling in his heart magnifying endlessly. His fingers were burned, yet he paid no heed, frantically searching through what could now be called ruins for something though it wasn’t his parents he sought, nor the key to the car accident.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for, only that there was something here he absolutely had to find. His eyes stung from the smoke, tears streaming down, his neck and glands burning with pain, the discomfort in his legs slowly creeping in.

Right now, he felt like there wasn’t a single part of him that was whole.

Rain began to fall again, heavy drops pelting his body, yet he couldn’t stop his desperate motions. He had to find it.

A voice in his heart warned him if he didn’t find it now, he’d never get another chance.

He didn’t know how long he kept searching, but eventually, the rain stopped falling on him. Instead, the sound of raindrops hitting an umbrella became startlingly clear.

Someone had shielded him from the rain in his dream. When he turned to see who it was, the sight of that person’s unmistakable face sent a jolt through him.

Pei Yiyan gasped, eyes widening, still caught in the remnants of the vision. He closed them again, only to feel a gentle pat on his forearm and a familiar voice murmuring drowsily, “It’s okay, it’s okay don’t be scared, don’t be scared.”

The voice itself sounded muddled, its owner barely conscious.

For a moment, Pei Yiyan couldn’t process what was happening, his mind and expression equally blank.

The light touch on his arm persisted, and the voice in his ear grew clearer.

“I’m here, I’m here…” It was Shen Yuqing’s.

Only then did his thoughts snap back into place, and Pei Yiyan realized just how strange their current position was.

At this very moment, he was lying on his side, one hand gripping something tightly, the other wrapped around Shen Yuqing’s waist. His leg was draped over Shen Yuqing’s, and his face had been buried in the crook of the other man’s shoulder.

He was clinging to Shen Yuqing like an octopus, refusing to let go.

A thunderous crash seemed to echo in his mind.

Why was he in Shen Yuqing’s arms?

How could they be this close?

And even more baffling despite their position, Shen Yuqing hadn’t woken up. Yet his hand continued to pat Pei Yiyan’s arm, so naturally, as if he’d done it hundreds, thousands of times before. As if it were second nature.

Pei Yiyan didn’t dare move. He tried to tilt his head back slightly, only to feel something soft and fuzzy pressed against the back of his neck.

Carefully, he withdrew his hand from Shen Yuqing’s waist and reached behind him, fingers brushing against a familiar texture—Good Luck.

He was now sandwiched between Shen Yuqing and the cat.

“Meow~”

Good Luck, rudely awakened by the touch on its rear, turned its head to glance at him. Seeing it was just Pei Yiyan, the cat let out a disgruntled mewl before shifting slightly and settling back to sleep.

No wonder his glands had felt so hot and uncomfortable in the dream Good Luck had been blocking them.

All those sensations earlier had probably been the cat’s doing.

But right now, Good Luck wasn’t the main issue. The real problem was him and Shen Yuqing.

Even now, he couldn’t figure out how the two of them had ended up like this.

No wonder Shen Yuqing had looked at him several times with words left unspoken.

The air conditioning was on in the room, so even sticking close together didn’t feel hot. Pei Yiyan carefully loosened his grip on Shen Yuqing’s hand, but the next second, he felt Shen Yuqing stir.

Instinctively, he closed his eyes and held still, pretending to be asleep.

He thought Shen Yuqing had woken up, but he hadn’t.

Instead, Shen Yuqing placed his hand on Pei Yiyan’s arm and began patting it lightly, intermittently, as if comforting him.

It was as if he had done these countless times before so much so that the action had become subconscious.

Even in his sleep, Shen Yuqing’s subconscious seemed to interpret Pei Yiyan’s movements as restlessness, prompting him to pat him gently, like soothing a child, so he wouldn’t toss and turn as much.

Pei Yiyan lay stiffly, absorbing every touch.

Everything that had happened tonight left him struggling to process whether it was his own actions or Shen Yuqing’s, it all felt surreal.

At this point, Pei Yiyan couldn’t even focus on his dreams anymore. He shifted his body slowly, making sure Shen Yuqing didn’t react, and returned to his original position.

Only then did he realize just how far he had crossed the boundary.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, willing himself to calm down. It’s fine.

If Shen Yuqing hadn’t said anything, it meant he didn’t think it was a big deal. Otherwise, he would have spoken up long ago.

Pei Yiyan closed his eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but sleep eluded him.

The collision between dreams and reality was too much to bear.

Moreover, he could still feel his gland burning. Lifting a hand to touch it, he winced slightly at the sting. Weird.

Pei Yiyan glanced once more in Shen Yuqing’s direction before quietly slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. He shut the door, turned on the light, and stood with his back to the mirror, tilting his head slightly to examine his gland in the reflection.

The only noticeable difference was that it looked redder than usual, clearly inflamed.

He figured it must have been from being pressed against earlier.

Even though his gland was damaged, it still reacted to stimulation like a normal one would.

Pei Yiyan adjusted his clothes. Whatever he’d stop by the hospital tomorrow to get it checked.

But then it hit him what was the point? His gland was ruined. Everyone had told him it would never recover.

Despite the lingering heat in his gland, Pei Yiyan felt strangely calm now.

He washed his face and hands before stepping out of the bathroom.

Shen Yuqing was still fast asleep.

His sleep was deep unless deliberately disturbed, he rarely woke up.

Pei Yiyan climbed back into bed cautiously, lying down in his spot and closing his eyes, but sleep refused to come.

Finally, a quiet sigh escaped him in the stillness of the room resigned, yet as if he had made up his mind about something.

He shifted closer to Shen Yuqing again.