IMH - 25

When Yu Qian sat in the driver’s seat and tentatively pressed the accelerator of the unfamiliar car, Cheng Xiaonan was still able to lean back in his seat, cough a few times, and then, with a slightly hoarse voice, joked, “Teacher Yu Qian, you don’t need to step on the gas so hard. What’s the rush? It’s just a fever; I’m not going to die.”

Before Yu Qian got in the car, she had asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, or perhaps be admitted.

Cheng Xiaonan pulled out a hospital paper bag, saying it wasn’t that serious. He had just seen a doctor yesterday, who prescribed a lot of medicine.

But by the time Yu Qian drove the car out of the company yard, Cheng Xiaonan had already frowned and closed his eyes, no longer speaking.

Occasionally, he would cough a few times, looking very uncomfortable, and his cough grew increasingly hoarse.

The journey wasn’t far, and the car stopped at the hotel entrance.

Yu Qian reached over, lightly pressing the back of her index finger knuckle against Cheng Xiaonan’s forehead.

In the past, Cheng Xiaonan would never have missed such an opportunity, daring to directly grab her wrist and tease her about taking advantage of the situation.

But today, he merely half-opened his eyes, his upper eyelids creased with a few lines of sickly fatigue. His gaze, as if not fully awake, squinted towards Yu Qian, as if trying to clearly see who she was.

After looking, he closed his eyes again, his voice low and hoarse: “Are we at the hotel?”

After speaking, he turned his head, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, and coughed a few times, suppressing the sound.

Yu Qian’s brows furrowed: “You really saw a doctor?”

“Yes.”

Cheng Xiaonan forced himself to sit upright, as if propping himself up, and unbuckled his seatbelt. “It’s a bad cold. It won’t get better that easily.”

“Did you take medicine?”

“I’m taking it. Whether it’s injections or medicine for a cold, it takes at least a week to recover.”

Just in the short pause while saying that sentence, Cheng Xiaonan coughed so hard that his neck turned a shade of red.

Yu Qian glanced at his tightly furrowed brows a few times and felt that asking any more questions would be superfluous concern.

He just needed to know his own symptoms.

Yu Qian got out of the car and walked to the passenger side door, opened it, tossed the car keys to Cheng Xiaonan, and extended her hand towards him, lightly hooking her fingertips twice.

Her bucket bag was by Cheng Xiaonan’s feet, indicating for him to hand the bag to her.

Unexpectedly, Cheng Xiaonan placed his hand on hers, naturally using the leverage to stand up: “Thank you.”

Yu Qian, wearing high heels, swayed as he pulled her.

His sickly warm body temperature transferred through her fingertips. For a moment, Yu Qian felt her heart was like a leaf struck by morning dew, drooping, then gently bouncing back up.

“...You’re welcome.”

She bent down, climbed into the car, retrieved her bag, took the car keys from Cheng Xiaonan, and handed them to the valet at the door, telling him to park the car and send it to room 6603.

Yu Qian and Cheng Xiaonan walked side by side. Cheng Xiaonan didn’t say anything more, only occasionally coughed, lagging half a step behind her.

It wasn’t until she used her room card to open the door and felt no movement beside her that she turned to look.

Cheng Xiaonan leaned against the wall, looking like he didn’t intend to enter.

Perhaps sensing Yu Qian’s gaze, he said, “You go in. I’ll take a moment to rest then head back to the company.”

“You have work?”

He’s this sick, and still working?

“Left my room card at the office, didn’t pick it up.”

Yu Qian reached out: “ID card. I’ll help you verify the information so you can get a spare key.”

“ID card is also at the office, cough, cough, cough!”

Yu Qian couldn’t quite tell if Cheng Xiaonan’s current sickly state was genuine.

Or, was there a hint of the same intentionality as before?

But she had to admit, facing his weakened state, it was hard for her to leave him.

“Then come in and rest.”

Yu Qian stepped into her room without closing the door.

Cheng Xiaonan slowly followed, leaning against the entryway and asking her, “Where should I rest?”

“The living room sofa.”

“Cough, cough, then I’ll be disturbing you.”

Yu Qian poured Cheng Xiaonan a cup of hot water, then ignored him, took out her yoga mat, and started doing yoga in the bedroom.

She vaguely heard the sound of aluminum foil being peeled outside, perhaps Cheng Xiaonan taking fever medicine.

After that, there was no more sound, as if the person simply didn’t exist.

Yu Qian stopped her yoga moves because she heard someone knocking on the door, but Cheng Xiaonan didn’t respond.

She came out of the bedroom and saw Cheng Xiaonan had fallen asleep on the sofa, his lips still tightly pressed, looking uncomfortable.

The knock at the door was from a hotel staff member, the young man who often parked her car.

The staff member wanted to return the car keys to Cheng Xiaonan, but when he knocked on the neighbor’s door, there was no response. Especially since Cheng Xiaonan looked sick before going upstairs, the hotel was worried about any accidents and came to ask Yu Qian about the situation.

Yu Qian looked back at Cheng Xiaonan, who was sleeping on the living room sofa, and simply said, “Just give me the car keys.”

She had few close friends or relatives around and almost no experience caring for sick people.

Thinking back, the last time she accompanied someone to the hospital was also when Cheng Xiaonan had a fever.

Why did she always seem to run into him when he had a fever?

This time, however, it seemed genuinely more severe.

Last time, this young man still had the energy to joke with her in the hospital’s IV drip area and play games on his phone with one hand.

Even after the IV drip, he casually slung his backpack over one shoulder and, like a chatterbox, insisted on going to dinner with her.

Despite the doctor warning him not to eat spicy food, he still managed to sneakily tick “Maoxuewang” on the menu when Yu Qian wasn’t paying attention.

The needle mark on the back of his hand hadn’t been properly pressed, leaving a small bruise, yet he still eagerly reached for a piece of tripe covered in chili oil with his chopsticks.

Yu Qian hit his chopsticks: “Didn’t I tell you not to eat spicy food?”

Cheng Xiaonan hissed, withdrew his hand, and spouted a bunch of ridiculous logic: “Don’t you understand fighting fire with fire?”

Yu Qian took Cheng Xiaonan’s car keys and left, driving his car back to the company.

There were still colleagues on duty at the company. When Yu Qian arrived at Cheng Xiaonan’s office, Shen Shen happened to be there.

Upon hearing that she came to get Cheng Xiaonan’s wallet, Shen Shen’s eyebrows raised so high they almost flew to the sky.

He didn’t ask much, invited Yu Qian into the office, and navigated through a “minefield” of magazines and game controllers to a certain desk, rummaging through the piled-up document bags before slapping his forehead and saying, “Oh, I’m so confused. Brother Nan’s stuff definitely isn’t here; this place is practically taken over by me. His wallet must be in the meeting room.”

Yu Qian had been to that meeting room before. There was a fixed seat with a computer and a stack of neatly organized documents.

There was also a black ceramic mug.

Compared to the current mess, it certainly looked more like an actual workspace.

“Brother Nan likes the meeting room, saying that there are ‘ball trees’ outside the window, which are pleasant to look at.”

Yu Qian paused for a second before saying, “London plane trees.”

“Right, right, I think that’s the name!”

Yu Qian liked these plants with broad leaves.

Back in the day, the street behind the affiliated high school was lined with these trees on both sides.

Their leaves were larger than a palm. Because the street was old and rarely maintained, they grew freely.

After knowing she liked them, Cheng Xiaonan once asked, “What kind of trees are these?”

Yu Qian liked them, but she hadn’t really thought about finding out what they were called.

When Cheng Xiaonan asked, she could only stiffen her face and say, “Go look it up yourself.”

Later, Cheng Xiaonan texted Yu Qian, saying, “Holy cow, these trees are called London plane trees? That name is too awkward!”

Perhaps because Yu Qian didn’t reply, this boy, searching for conversation, sent another message: “Why does that name sound so... bad?”

Perhaps it was his words that made a deep impression on Yu Qian, and the awkward name was remembered.

So, after that, if anyone said these trees were French plane trees, Yu Qian wouldn’t agree.

She would instinctively correct them, saying they were London plane trees.

When Shen Shen swiped his employee card to open the meeting room door, Yu Qian saw the leaves swaying outside the meeting room window.

She suddenly asked Shen Shen, “Why is your company called ‘Eleven’?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started. Brother Nan said he wanted to use a number as the brand. I thought all night and decided ‘9’ was good. Emperors used ‘9’ in the past; it’s so imposing. But he insisted on ‘11’.”

Speaking of this, Shen Shen was less cautious, opening up his chatterbox. “At first, I didn’t know what it meant either. Ji Ran told me that ‘11’ might mean regret.”

Many good words are written with 12 strokes.

Like “lovers,” “friends,” “beloved,” “unique.”

Looked at this way, 11 is like a regret, always missing one stroke.

“But this is just Ji Ran’s guess; it might not necessarily be the meaning.”

Shen Shen handed Cheng Xiaonan’s wallet to Yu Qian, smiling a little mischievously, “Brother Nan is already in your room; why don’t you ask him yourself? Don’t let him fool you with his cold words all day; if you ask, he’ll definitely tell you.”

________________________________________

When Yu Qian returned to her hotel room, it was already dark outside.

Cheng Xiaonan was still sleeping on the sofa, looking like he hadn’t moved.

He leaned back against the sofa, his long legs stretched out. Yu Qian used to think this living room was quite spacious when she was alone, but with Cheng Xiaonan sitting on the sofa, it seemed much smaller.

Yu Qian switched on the bedside lamp in the bedroom.

She leaned against the wall, observing Cheng Xiaonan in the dim light.

Ultimately, she couldn’t bring herself to wake him. She walked over, lightly touched his forehead, then took his room card and went to sleep in the adjacent room.

Cheng Xiaonan woke up around 9 AM.

He was sleeping on the sofa in Yu Qian’s room, but the room was empty.

His falling asleep in Yu Qian’s room was not unintentional. He hadn’t had such a severe cold in over 20 years. His head felt like it was filled with lead, and he had no energy at all.

However, the fever and cold medicine must have taken effect. Now that he was awake, he only felt a terrible pain in his neck from sleeping on the sofa all night.

Cheng Xiaonan walked to the bedroom and peeked inside. Yu Qian’s bed didn’t even have a wrinkle.

It seemed she hadn’t slept in this room.

He gave a self-deprecating smile, thinking it was only natural; she certainly wouldn’t want to share a room with him.

Getting his wallet back was probably the greatest favor she could do.

Cheng Xiaonan took his wallet and car keys and left, standing at his room door, fumbling through his pockets, but couldn’t find his room card.

He finally had to call a hotel staff member to get a spare card before entering.

He didn’t know why the cleaning lady had drawn the bedroom curtains so tightly. Cheng Xiaonan was too lazy to think much about it and collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his neck.

Something next to him moved before he could even react.

Yu Qian’s cool tone, wrapped in the laziness of just waking up, sounded somewhat muffled from being under the heavy blanket.

She said, “Cheng Xiaonan, get off.”