Chapter 85: Little Brother

The message had barely been sent for five minutes before a familiar figure appeared outside the hospital room.

Cheng Xingye stood at the door in a black T-shirt and a baseball cap. He looked as though he’d been waiting there all day, with faint shadows of exhaustion under his eyes.

Lu Yi, having taken a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and stuffed it into his pocket, left the room without a word, brushing past him.

Not a single word passed between the two men.

As the door was about to close, Cheng Xingye reached out and stopped it.

There was no overhead light in the room, and the dimness cast a shadowy gloom. On the bed, a small mound rose beneath the covers—a girl in hospital pajamas, her slender ankles and arms pale as porcelain.

She was curled up under the blanket, her breathing shallow and uneasy, her tightly shut eyes fluttering every so often, as if she felt acutely unsafe.

The one he’d thought of day and night was right before him, yet Cheng Xingye suddenly found himself hesitant to get closer.

How should he approach her now? What role was he to play?

Could he still hold her as he used to?

Perhaps she didn’t even want to see him.

His thoughts spun out of control, but his body, honest and instinctive, carried him step by step toward her.

It was a silent, deep night. The girl slept restlessly, her small hand shifting atop the blanket, only to be gently enveloped by another.

Her hands were icy cold, both palm and back. Though she looked thin, her hand in his felt soft, almost boneless.

Cheng Xingye held her chilled hand tightly, unconsciously kneading it, and even after a long while, he couldn’t bear to let go.

Moonlight poured through the window, casting a silvery glow that sharpened the lines of his face at her bedside.

His eyes were clear and bright, fixed on her sleeping figure, as if he could never look enough.

It had been more than two hundred days and nights...

His gaze drifted from her closed eyes to the delicate tip of her nose, then, unable to resist, swept down to her crimson, petite lips.

He could hear the fevered pounding of his own heart in the silent night.

Still, he fought to restrain himself, content only to watch her, not daring to touch.

After some time—he could not tell how long—Lu Qingyue seemed to grow uncomfortable in her sleep. She turned restlessly, a muffled whimper escaping her throat.

Cheng Xingye immediately bent over her, reaching out to touch her forehead, his voice coaxing and gentle.

“Baby, where does it hurt?”

Lu Qingyue seemed lost in a nightmare, clutching the blanket tighter, her body trembling as she murmured brokenly,

“So much water... there’s someone in the water...”

She seemed terrified, her closed eyes quivering, on the verge of tears.

Cheng Xingye couldn’t catch every word, so he bent closer, cradling her trembling form in his arms, tilting his head to hear her better.

“What is it?”

In the darkness, her voice was fragmented and frail.

It was as if she were reliving some scene that filled her with dread, shrinking into him like a frightened creature, shivering and sobbing,

“In the water... there was a boy...”

A boy?

Where did a boy come from?

Cheng Xingye frowned slightly.

During the accident two days ago, it was only her classmates who fell into the water; there had been no one she might call a “boy.”

He decided she must be reliving the trauma of nearly drowning, her mind filling her dreams with what she feared.

He gently stroked her thin back, his voice soft with patience.

“There’s no boy—everyone’s safe now...”

As he spoke, he unconsciously leaned down, wanting to place a kiss on her brow.

But before he could touch her, he remembered how things had fallen apart between them, and instantly pulled back, turning his head away to steady his breath, unwilling to take advantage while she was vulnerable.

Perhaps she heard his words, for Lu Qingyue, still half-asleep, gradually calmed in his arms.

Yet her tiny hand still clung anxiously to the hem of his shirt, her lashes fluttering at the slightest disturbance, as if she might wake at any moment.

To accommodate her, Cheng Xingye had to bend awkwardly over. The position was uncomfortable, and the way she held on made it clear she wouldn’t let him go anytime soon.

He picked her up, wrapping her in the blanket, settling her against his chest.

He held her as one would a child, his large, warm hands softly, patiently patting her back again and again.

The closeness was more intimate than anything they had shared before—even before things went wrong, he had never held her like this.

But tonight was different.

The girl had been frightened by her ordeal in the water; wanting to be held was only natural.

He convinced himself of this, and so, giving in, held her a little tighter.

Perhaps feeling the safety of his embrace, Lu Qingyue gradually relaxed, nuzzling into him like a cat being gently stroked.

Her small movements made his whole body tense, his heart beating wildly.

He exhaled deeply, struggling to suppress the restless heat stirring within him. But the little rascal in his arms was relentless, burrowing closer and closer.

The spring night was too quiet.

So quiet he could hear his heart thundering in his chest.

Lu Qingyue’s ear was pressed to his chest, and naturally, she too could hear that pounding heartbeat.

Half-awake, she opened her eyes, dazedly gazing at the man who held her.

The moonlight outside shimmered, painting him with pale bands of light and shadow.

The man’s head was bowed, the brim of his cap casting most of his face in shadow.

From her angle, she could see only his tightly set lips, the smooth line of his jaw, and the pronounced Adam’s apple.

As she stared, half in a dream, the Adam’s apple bobbed twice—subtly, with restraint.

This face was strangely familiar.

Of all the men in her life who matched this face and could have appeared here, only Lu Yi came to mind.

She stared blankly at his throat and, testing, murmured,

“Brother?”

The one holding her did not move.

After a few seconds, he answered with a low, husky “Mm.”

He had admitted it.

Still half-asleep, Lu Qingyue sensed nothing amiss, not even noticing that their embrace exceeded the bounds of siblings.

Hearing him respond, she naturally assumed it was Lu Yi keeping her company, and, reassured, closed her eyes again.

As she snuggled into his embrace, she sniffled, grumbling softly,

“You haven’t held me like this in a long time.”

Though her voice was muffled, a hint of grievance and reproach could be heard.

It was strange; after she turned four or five, Lu Yi had stopped holding her. By now, she should have forgotten what it felt like.

Yet tonight, the embrace surrounding her was both familiar and steady, tinged with a faint scent of tobacco, as if being held like this had happened only months ago.

Lost in such thoughts, her consciousness drifted into sleep, her body limp and trusting on his chest.

Her slender, pale arm rested across his heart, her fragile pulse keeping time with the beat beneath, as if the two heartbeats had merged into one.

Cheng Xingye tucked the blanket more snugly around her, pained by how delicate and aggrieved she looked in sleep. He couldn’t help but lower his head, brushing the tip of his nose gently against hers.

For a fleeting moment, their breaths mingled, and the touch sent a tremor through his heart, his throat tightening with emotion.

He silently mocked himself for his lack of composure—he hadn’t even kissed her, yet his heart was racing and his mind felt adrift.

If they were ever truly together, would this little girl have him completely under her spell?

The mere thought of being in love made his heart burn anew. He forced himself to turn away, feigning nonchalance, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, and it took him a long moment to sober it.