By Zephyria 
The private physician arrived at the villa and conducted a basic examination of the young man.
After assessing the situation, he retrieved some medicine from his kit. “We could run a blood test, but judging by Mr. Jing’s condition, it might also be related to catching a chill and emotional stress. Internal heat and agitation can easily trigger a fever.”
“It’s nothing serious. Take the medicine and rest for the night first. The dosage and frequency are written on the box,” the doctor instructed before turning to the feverish young man. “If the fever subsides by tomorrow, there won’t be any need for an injection.”
After the doctor left,
The drowsy young man was gently lifted, his back leaning against a broad chest. Slender fingers parted his lips, placing a pill on his tongue, followed by a sip of warm water that slid past his lips and teeth.
Jing Mian gulped it down.
Warm water was far less thirst quenching than cold water.
Droplets trickled down his chin, wiped away by the man. Jing Mian’s lashes fluttered slightly as he whispered, “Can I have cold water?”
Mr. Ren: “No.”
Jing Mian: “…”
Dazedly, he wondered to himself, why wouldn’t the person he liked grant his request?
The young man quietly shifted positions, gradually resting his head against Mr. Ren’s neck. The man’s body was cool, making him comfortable to hold.
At the same time, he could catch the familiar, pleasant scent emanating from the other.
Mr. Ren seemed momentarily stunned before tightening his arm around Jing Mian’s waist.
Jing Mian soon forgot his initial plea and dozed off in his husband’s embrace. When he opened his eyes again, the bedroom lights were off, the surroundings silent except for the man’s soft breathing.
Assuming Mr. Ren was asleep, he was surprised when the man asked, “Feeling unwell?”
His voice didn’t sound like he’d just woken up, it was clear and alert.
Jing Mian shook his head, his voice barely audible. “…Brother.”
Mr. Ren touched his forehead, then slid a hand beneath the blanket, slipping under Jing Mian’s pajama top. The young man instinctively shrank back.
“The fever’s gone,” Mr. Ren murmured, kissing his temple. “You can shower tomorrow.”
Jing Mian responded with a soft hum.
After a long pause, the young man called out again, softly, “Brother.”
Mr. Ren reached up, brushing aside Jing Mian’s bangs to remove the cooling patch. “What is it?”
“Do you remember Li Daoyang?”
Mr. Ren paused briefly before replying, “That high school classmate who carried you that time.”
Jing Mian didn’t catch the modifier but nodded, relieved the man remembered. “He’s coming to Lincheng tomorrow for a concert.”
“He’s short on money and wants to stay overnight.”
Jing Mian asked, “Can he stay here?”
*
Jing Luo didn’t see Li Qiao waiting to pick him up after school.
At first, he didn’t understand what was happening. His mother wasn’t at the school gate at the usual time. As he watched his classmates leave one by one, until he was the only one left, his teacher took his hand and led him back inside.
The teacher dialed the emergency contact number on file, only to find it switched off.
She then called the other guardian, Jing Luo’s father.
When Jing Guozhen answered, his voice was hoarse and groggy. “This is Jing Luo’s father. What’s wrong?”
“Luo Luo’s mother hasn’t come to pick him up from school. Was she delayed by something? The child has been waiting for over half an hour. If it’s convenient, could you come get him?”
Jing Guozhen couldn’t stay away from the hospital for too long, or the head nurse would throw a fit, and the doctors would chase him back to his ward. However, the moment he realized what had happened, Jing Luo seemed to understand as well.
The little boy sat on the edge of the hospital bed, staring down at his hands, silent for a long time.
From that day onward, the person responsible for taking him to and from school became some distant relative he barely knew.
That relative seemed to have their own life too, and after just two days of helping out, they dropped the responsibility.
On the fourth day, a luxury car pulled up in front of Jing Luo’s elementary school.
The other kids and parents were utterly envious.
Since his family’s bankruptcy, Jing Luo hadn’t experienced this kind of attention in a long time. So when the car window rolled down and the well dressed man in the driver’s seat looked at him, the little boy felt both unfamiliar and uneasy.
It was actually Brother’s wife!
He couldn’t remember how long it had been since their last meeting. To Jing Luo’s young mind, it had long been forgotten. But Brother’s wife’s appearance was hard to forget, not just in daily life, but also because he often saw him on posters and billboards.
Just as he remembered, the man was as aloof and taciturn as ever. Jing Luo hesitated for two seconds before gripping the straps of his little backpack and, under everyone’s gaze, clumsily climbed into the passenger seat.
Brother’s wife didn’t speak, and Jing Luo didn’t ask.
It wasn’t until the car slowly headed toward the hospital that Jing Luo, staring down at his backpack, finally couldn’t hold back anymore. “Where’s Brother?” he asked.
As if holding back for too long, tears welled up in Jing Luo’s eyes and quickly spilled over. This time, his voice trembled with suppressed sobs,
“Did he… abandon me?”
…
The sleek, pitch-black car, as elegant and refined as its owner, carried the child to the hospital in silence.
The car stopped.
Ren Xingwan parted his lips. “He doesn’t know.”
Jing Luo looked up. “Huh?”
“Your brother doesn’t know what happened to the Jing family.”
The man glanced sideways, his eyes devoid of emotion, let alone warmth. His cool voice lowered slightly. “And I don’t plan to tell him.”
“You’re your brother’s little friend.”
Ren Xingwan spoke slowly. “But he’s also my little friend.”
When Jing Luo returned to the hospital, he was noticeably quieter than usual.
At just five years old, he only understood half of what Brother’s wife had said. For instance, he didn’t quite grasp the meaning of that last line.
Then again, maybe he didn’t need to.
His mother had left him, his father was sick, and during that period when unfamiliar relatives picked him up from school, the other kids had mocked him as an unwanted child.
As long as he knew Brother still wanted him,
that was enough.
Jing Luo carried his backpack as the night cast shadows over his small frame. Strangely, his heart didn’t feel as heavy as before.
But this time, the moment the little boy returned to the hospital, staff rushed out to greet him.
From then on, Jing Luo no longer had to sleep in the noisy, crowded ward, no longer had to squeeze onto the same bed as Jing Guozhen, no longer had to endure the deafening snores of elderly patients around him, and no longer had to wake up startled in the middle of the night when someone rang the nurse’s bell, unable to fall back asleep for hours.
He was led by hospital staff to a staff dormitory, fully furnished with many daily necessities and furniture moved from their humble new home.
From then on, someone picked him up from school every day.
That person was no longer his brother’s wife. Upon introduction, the man called himself Yu Nian—apparently… his brother’s wife’s assistant.
After half a month in the hospital, a follow-up CT scan showed significant absorption of the lesions in Jing Guozhen’s lungs, indicating the anti-inflammatory treatment had been very effective.
Initially, the doctors forbade him from leaving his bed and advised him to sleep face down as much as possible. Now, they encouraged Jing Guozhen to walk around occasionally.
Having just recovered from a serious illness, Jing Guozhen’s mindset had changed considerably from before.
Li Qiao had left the Jing household. Jing Guozhen would often gaze out the hospital window, watching the swaying branches transition from vibrant green to faint yellow, occasionally shedding a few leaves.
One day, Jing Guozhen happened to pass by the psychiatry department on the hospital’s fourth floor.
He didn’t enter, merely glancing at the doctors’ profiles displayed in the lobby.
In the first row, he spotted a name: “Pei Sheng.”
Jing Guozhen’s eyes swept past it without reaction, but just as he turned to leave, he suddenly froze.
His gaze trembled.
Pei Sheng.
…Doctor Pei?
Jing Guozhen knocked on the door. Hearing a man’s voice inside say, “Come in,” he entered.
Still weak from his illness, Jing Guozhen walked slowly, even dressed in his hospital gown. When Doctor Pei looked up and saw the middle aged man, his expression stiffened momentarily.
“Which floor are you from as a patient?”
“If you have any mental health concerns, you can discuss them with your attending physician first. No need for registration, we provide in hospital consultations.”
Jing Guozhen quickly shook his head. “I’m not here for that.”
“I wanted to ask… Doctor Pei, have you ever treated a patient named Jing Mian?”
Silence fell over the consultation room.
Doctor Pei pressed his lips into a thin line. After several seconds, he spoke: “You’re Jing Guozhen.”
Jing Guozhen felt awkward. The doctor’s gaze held no warmth, only something close to coldness. This man likely knew about his relationship with Jing Mian.
“…Yes.”
Doctor Pei: “What do you want?”
Jing Guozhen said, “I… want to understand that child’s condition.”
Doctor Pei paused, then suddenly laughed. “Don’t you think you’re too late?”
Jing Guozhen’s face darkened. His Adam’s apple bobbed before he finally managed words: “Even if it’s late, I should still come.”
“Doctor… what illness does MianMian have?”
He expected refusal, perhaps because Jing Mian had told this man how poorly he’d treated the boy, making the doctor instinctively hostile upon seeing him.
But fortunately, he hadn’t come to the wrong place.
Jing Guozhen took a deep breath, quietly awaiting an answer he might never have known otherwise.
“Post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Jing Guozhen’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What?”
For someone his age, the term was utterly unfamiliar. To older generations, even depression and anxiety might seem like excuses young people used to skip school, let alone PTSD, a clinical-sounding medical term.
And this diagnosis… was linked to his own son.
“Why… why…” Jing Guozhen was somewhat incoherent, not even knowing what to ask first about the specific manifestations and details of this illness. He spoke as if he completely didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand: “He was perfectly fine, how could he suddenly get this kind of disease?”
“Perfectly fine?”
Doctor Pei smiled silently, the curve of his lips like wordless mockery. He said, “From childhood till now, with you barely involved in his upbringing, MianMian has always been perfectly fine?”
“If you’re going to pretend not to understand even now, you might as well go back to your ward right away.” Doctor Pei leaned back in his chair, directly issuing a dismissal: “I don’t receive family members of patients here.”
“No… Doctor Pei, that’s not what I meant.”
Jing Guozhen’s stubble was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, looking rather disheveled. He quickly said, “I don’t know much about this illness, but if Jing Mian can be cured, I’m willing to cover all the expenses.”
His current appearance made his words hardly convincing. One might expect this aggressive doctor to mock his attire and state, but surprisingly, the other man didn’t.
Instead, the man lowered his head, picked up a thick stack of medical reference books, flipped to a page with practiced ease, then turned it around and pushed it toward Jing Guozhen.
“The line marked in red.”
He couldn’t even be bothered to explain.
Jing Guozhen took it. The page the book was opened to contained those very words that had puzzled him earlier.
“This… mustn’t be known by the Ren family.” Jing Guozhen lowered his head, his lips trembling slightly after reading. As if remembering something, he murmured, “If they find out, MianMian will have his engagement broken off… he couldn’t bear that…”
Doctor Pei frowned slightly: “The Ren family?”
“Yes.”
“It mustn’t be known by the Ren family.” Jing Guozhen looked up and asked Pei Sheng, “I’m the first to know, right?”
Doctor Pei’s expression changed, but Jing Guozhen couldn’t decipher it.
However, after a few seconds, he heard Doctor Pei say, “Of course not.”
Jing Guozhen froze, his eyes showing shock.
“His lover came to me long ago. You were never the first.”
*
The next morning.
Jing Mian’s fever had completely subsided.
Though his steps were still a bit unsteady, he could at least go downstairs. After eating a hot breakfast, Jing Mian felt life returning to his body.
Since Li Daoyang was coming, even if his fever returned, there would still be someone at home. So Jing Mian told his husband to go attend to his own schedule and didn’t need to stay home with him.
However, this mobilization effort to avoid disturbing the man’s work seemed somewhat… suspiciously like clearing the house to keep the husband from bothering him.
Jing Mian lay on the sofa, played with his phone for a while, then thought about taking a nap.
After some time, his phone rang.
The young man picked it up and saw it was actually Yang Fan, his husband’s agent.
Jing Mian quickly answered, calling out, “Brother Yang Fan.”
“Mr. Jing, are you at home now?”
Jing Mian replied, “Yes.”
When his husband’s agent or assistant contacted him, it was usually either at the man’s behest, to pick him up somewhere, or because he couldn’t call due to an event.
Jing Mian guessed his husband probably had something to tell him, though they had only parted two or three hours ago in the morning.
“What’s the matter?”
Yang Fan wiped his sweat, his voice tinged with urgency as he said, “MianMian, Brother Ren isn’t backstage right now because he has to attend an event. Earlier, when I went to retrieve the documents, I think I left the backup copy in Brother Ren’s study. It’s most likely still there.”
“This is a bit urgent, we need it this afternoon.” Yang Fan sighed. “If we can’t produce it when needed and I have to go back to fetch it, it’ll delay everything.”
“Mr. Jing, are you free right now? I can have Yu Nian go over to get it.”
Under normal circumstances, Jing Mian would confirm with Mr. Ren first, but right now, Mr. Ren was likely too busy. Besides, the man had mentioned it this morning before leaving, though he had said Yang Fan himself might come over and not to be startled when opening the door.
“It’s fine.” Jing Mian stood up and headed toward the second floor. “Is it on the bookshelf in the study?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I left it on the desk at the time. If it’s not there now, Brother Ren might have put it away.”
Yang Fan said, “Probably on the bookshelf, or in a drawer, or maybe inside a folder… Ah, sorry to trouble you, MianMian.”
Jing Mian replied softly, “It’s alright. I’ll go look for it.”
The young man put his phone on speaker and set it down on the desk. Since it was his husband’s study, he wasn’t a frequent visitor. Only when he needed to complete assignments or had to use a computer, something his laptop couldn’t replace, would he ask the man for permission to use the study.
In fact, the longest time he had ever spent in the study dated back to when he was trying on his wedding suit and Mr. Ren had pinned him against the study door for a kiss.
But he had never tried rummaging through his husband’s drawers or bookshelves. In his subconscious, that was the other’s private domain. As a couple living together under a contractual marriage, Jing Mian had been cautious from the start about intruding on his husband’s privacy, afraid of making the man feel disrespected.
The last time he had accidentally straightened a photo frame, he had even discovered a childhood photo of himself and Mr. Ren together.
Given the current circumstances, he had no choice but to search the study as Yang Fan had suggested, moving quietly.
Jing Mian opened the bookshelf, checking row after row of gaps and the larger books that could hold loose papers.
After searching for a while, Jing Mian found nothing.
Yang Fan reminded him, “Maybe it’s not on the bookshelf? Could it be in a drawer?”
Jing Mian bent down and pulled open drawer after drawer. The items inside were neither cluttered nor excessive, neat and simple. If the file he was looking for was there, its size would make it immediately obvious without much effort.
First drawer.
Then the second.
Third drawer.
Jing Mian realized the third drawer wouldn’t budge.
The keyhole didn’t move at all, it seemed to be locked.
Instinctively, the young man withdrew his hand. Touching an area his husband didn’t want others to see suddenly filled him with guilt, as if he had violated Mr. Ren’s privacy. Jing Mian picked up the phone and told Yang Fan, “The third drawer is locked.”
Yang Fan asked, “Do you know where the key is?”
Jing Mian replied, “No.”
His husband hadn’t told him.
Yang Fan seemed to search on his end before hesitantly saying, “President Ren has a key in his coat pocket. I’m not sure if it’s the right one… I’ll have Yu Nian bring it over.”
Jing Mian agreed.
After hanging up, sure enough, within twenty minutes, Yu Nian’s car pulled into the neighborhood.
Jing Mian opened the door as Yu Nian walked through the small courtyard. After changing shoes at the entrance, Yu Nian was about to head upstairs when he noticed Jing Mian wearing only thin pajamas, his complexion pale and his voice slightly nasal, clearly still recovering from a fever.
Yu Nian slapped his thigh and quickly turned back. “Mr. Jing, you’ve just gotten better. It’s no good wearing so little. Brother Ren specifically reminded us… It’s the transitional season now, fevers and colds can easily relapse.”
As he spoke, he hastily draped the coat he was carrying over Jing Mian’s shoulders.
The coat was oversized, its hem reaching Jing Mian’s thighs even when properly draped, leaving only his fingertips barely visible. Jing Mian looked down in slight bewilderment and murmured, “This seems like… Husband’s…”
“Right, it’s Brother Ren’s,” Yu Nian said with a smile. “The keys were in his coat, so I brought it back together.”
The cold was effectively blocked out, and Jing Mian did feel much warmer.
Yu Nian hurried upstairs to the study, with Jing Mian following behind and stopping at the doorway. He watched as Yu Nian took the key, tried inserting it into the third drawer, only to find it wouldn’t fit—let alone turn.
Yu Nian: “?”
He withdrew his hand. “Not this one. It won’t open.”
Standing up, Yu Nian pulled out his phone and called Yang Fan, putting it on speaker. The two shouted into the phone for a while without reaching any conclusion.
Jing Mian instinctively slipped his hand into the coat he was wearing, feeling around. The outer pockets were empty, the only key was the one Yu Nian had.
But as his fingers trailed upward, they suddenly paused.
Inside the inner lining, there was something hard.
Jing Mian pulled it out, a small metal key, smaller than an ordinary door key.
Silently, the young man stepped forward, bent down, and inserted the key into the lock of the third drawer.
A metallic click sounded as Jing Mian twisted the key slightly.
The lock gave a soft click.
—It opened.
Yu Nian: “!!”
Placing his phone on the edge of the desk, Yu Nian also leaned down in surprise. “It actually opened! How did you find the key, Mr. Jing?”
Before Jing Mian could answer, his gaze fell on the contents of the drawer, and he froze momentarily.
Yu Nian pulled the drawer open, scanned it for barely half a second, then sighed and looked up. “It’s not in here either.”
Yang Fan’s voice came through the speaker: “Not there?”
After a pause, he added, “Probably not in the bookcase or the drawers. Yu Nian, check the side of the tea table, see if there’s a document folder there. If there is, it should already be opened. You can look inside.”
Following Yang Fan’s instructions, Yu Nian circled to the small tea table on the other side of the desk. In one of its compartments was a thick document folder, likely containing important backup files.
Yu Nian carefully opened it and quickly found the spare document Yang Fan had mentioned.
Relieved, he called out, “Found it!”
“Great! Yu Nian, you can head back now. Mr. Jing is still recovering, don’t disturb his rest,” Yang Fan said hurriedly, sounding busy on his end. “Thanks for your help.”
With his task completed, Yu Nian was about to take his leave when he realized Mr. Jing had been silent for a while.
Almost… as if lost in thought.
Yu Nian said softly, “Mr. Jing, I’ll take my leave now?”
Jing Mian snapped out of it and stood. “This coat…”
Yu Nian smiled and said, “It’s alright, Mr. Jing. You can keep wearing it. There are coats in the lounge, so no need to worry about Brother Ren getting cold.”
After seeing Yu Nian off at the villa, when the young man returned home, the house was completely silent.
Jing Mian lay back on the sofa, enveloped along with his husband’s coat by a faint, pleasant fragrance, the scent that belonged to Mr. Ren.
The young man picked up his phone and played a few rounds of Candy Crush. Today, Li Daoyang was coming to stay over, and it wasn’t yet time for his livestream. There were clearly many things left to do, but he inexplicably lacked the usual enthusiasm.
His attention seemed to have been diverted by something.
It took Jing Mian a few minutes to realize what was preventing him from regaining his focus.
…
It seemed… it was because of his husband’s third drawer.
The contents of that drawer must have been truly important for his husband to keep the key tucked inside his inner pocket.
Though it was only a fleeting glance, Jing Mian had still caught sight of an exquisitely packaged jewelry box inside the drawer.
Pure white, with a soft exterior, likely containing some kind of luxury item like jewelry.
But the outer covering showed signs of wear, suggesting it had been stored there for a long time.
The corner bore the initials “MM.”
Perhaps… it was a gift Mr. Ren had never gotten the chance to give, or maybe it was a present he had received from someone else, kept pristine all this time.
The locked drawer symbolized how much his husband treasured it.
Jing Mian lowered his lashes. After Candy Crush chimed its third “Unbelievable!” notification, the young man abruptly sat up.
Reason told him: Don’t dwell on it.
Impulse, however, demanded: Just who is this “MM”?