Chapter 85: A Singer Who Acts Better Than Him

The early morning light was hazy and fragmented. Zhou Yili felt a cool hand gently brushing aside the hair from his forehead, lightly testing his temperature.

“No fever. Go back to sleep.”

The clear, cold voice was as delicate as snow falling in surprise.

Wounds easily become inflamed, and inflammation leads to fever.

Zhou Yili hadn’t expected Shen Jixing to remember this, yet every morning upon waking, he would casually check his temperature.

How could he care for me so much?

His actions were quicker than his thoughts. He caught the hand that was about to withdraw, and at the icy, jade-like fingertips, he placed a light but searing kiss.

“…”

Shen Jixing paused, his fingers curling slightly as he pulled back. “Rogue.”

Even in sleep, still a rogue.

This little lion couldn’t change his animal nature; these past few days, he’d caused no small amount of mischief, using his illness as an excuse.

As the door softly closed, Zhou Yili slowly opened his eyes, a lazy, languid smile curving his lips.

“Hey.”

He answered the phone at random; an unfamiliar male voice exploded from the other end, “There’s trouble!!!”

Zhou Yili: “?”

Who was this?

He glanced at the caller ID: Pei Ming.

Shen Jixing’s manager. Ah, he’d picked up the wrong call.

Before Zhou Yili could speak, Pei Ming, like an unstoppable mortar, launched right in: “The news that you slept with a male fan can’t be hidden anymore! Tell me, why did you have to drag Zhou Yili to some tattoo shop? If your popularity together blows up, it could cause a sensation in the entire entertainment industry!!!”

Now the whole internet was digging to find out which male fan he’d slept with.

Zhou Yili tilted his head slightly.

He thought, there probably wasn’t a second candidate.

With Shen Jixing’s almost painfully pure nature, even a kiss would make him blush and bury his face in Zhou Yili’s neck, needing endless coaxing just to open his mouth.

Sleep? Not a chance.

Shen Jixing had only ever slept with him.

The phone was silent for a long moment before Pei Ming, at his wit’s end, finally spoke, “Forget it, I’m not blaming you. What’s done is done. Just tell me who the male fan is.”

Heavens knew.

Pei Ming sounded weary: “I haven’t slept well in weeks.”

At those words, Zhou Yili sympathetically replied, “Of course it’s—”

Pei Ming paused, “Wait, who are you???”

The door to the hospital room creaked open. Shen Jixing stood at the entrance with the breakfast Aunt Zhang had brought, his clear eyes cool as he glanced at Zhou Yili.

Zhou Yili sensibly changed tack: “Why don’t you let him tell you himself?”

No need for words now.

Pei Ming shot upright, “It’s six thirty in the morning! Not seven thirty, not eight thirty—six thirty! Why are you two together???”

He could think of no other reason but sleeping together.

Zhou Yili, like a drowsy young lion, lifted his eyelids and looked innocently at the man across from him.

His look clearly said, I didn’t say anything; your manager is just too sensitive.

Shen Jixing walked over calmly, set the breakfast on the table, and took the phone.

“You knew it was six thirty and still called?”

Pei Ming faltered, “Well, I know your schedule—you wake early.”

The breakfast on the table smelled delicious; Zhou Yili’s nose twitched.

The injured little lion no longer had his usual unruly charm; his black-blue hair was tousled and wild, and his entire demeanor exuded a lazy, battle-worn fragility.

Shen Jixing instinctively thought he’d been woken up.

His voice was cool: “I’m awake. The other person isn’t.”

Pei Ming: “???”

He hadn’t quite processed the meaning when Shen Jixing coldly added, “Don’t call at this time again,” and promptly hung up.

On the other end, Pei Ming was bewildered: “Wait, you really slept with Zhou Yili???”

What kind of doting-on-your-girlfriend behavior was this?

…

“I thought the big star wanted to have a secret affair with me.”

Zhou Yili hadn’t expected that answer either. He watched Shen Jixing with a lazy, irrepressible smile.

Shen Jixing shot him a cool glance.

The silvery-white phone was casually tossed onto the table. “I’ve received at least ten congratulatory messages in three days. What do you think that means?”

Zhou Yili’s face was unmoved.

Privately, though, he’d boasted to everyone.

Shen Jixing’s few friends had all heard the news.

Helpless, he didn’t refute it and tacitly allowed Zhou Yili to do as he pleased.

“Damn.”

Zhou Yili’s laughter was genuine as he pulled him over. “Why do you have to say things so harshly? What do you mean, ‘what do you think that means’?”

Shen Jixing’s gaze instinctively dropped to his lips.

Those pale lips, drained from blood loss, still held an undeniable, captivating allure.

“Go wash up,” he said, looking away. “It’s still early. Have breakfast, then sleep some more.”

Zhou Yili’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

The little white bird was a clean freak; if he wasn’t clean, he probably wouldn’t get a kiss. Reluctantly, Zhou Yili let go and struggled out of bed.

Shen Jixing frowned at him. “...Three days and your wound shows no improvement?”

Zhou Yili grimaced. “Guess I fell hard.”

After a moment’s silence, Shen Jixing stood and supported him, his long, slender arm circling Zhou Yili’s waist. “Lean on me.”

Zhou Yili obediently leaned against his shoulder.

Though he looked heavy, Shen Jixing realized as he supported him that the weight wasn’t too much.

He guided him to the bathroom. “Handle the toilet yourself.”

Then he turned and walked out.

Last night, Sikong Xiu had sent a message, asking when they’d return to the set.

By rights, Zhou Yili’s injuries were superficial; after the stitches were removed, he’d be almost healed.

But Zhou Yili acted as if he’d never been hurt before, weak to the point of exaggeration, almost incapable of basic self-care.

Shen Jixing thought for a moment, then replied: “A few more days. Wait until he can move around freely.”

Perhaps that line was too impactful.

Sikong Xiu was already online early in the morning.

[Sikong Xiu]: He still can’t move?

[Shen Jixing]: More or less, can’t walk on his own

[Sikong Xiu]: …

Sikong Xiu didn’t press further, just sent a little fox sticker.

[This little fox has finally met his match.jpg]

Shen Jixing: “...”

Shen Jixing wasn’t a fool, but these past three days, he felt as if he’d become one.

“I’m ready,” Zhou Yili called from the bathroom.

The humid air carried the scent of water; the tub was full of hot water, and Zhou Yili had taken the opportunity to freshen up. Now his collar was slightly damp, his whole body clean and refreshed.

He waited for Shen Jixing to help him.

Shen Jixing walked over calmly, but suddenly his foot slipped and he fell toward the bathtub.

Quick as lightning, Zhou Yili lunged forward and caught him by the waist.

Faster even than a healthy man.

Shen Jixing narrowed his eyes. “Zhou—”

What was there left to misunderstand?

Zhou Yili, a singer, could act even better than he could.

Realizing he’d reacted too swiftly, Zhou Yili suddenly went limp, letting out a pained “ah,” as if all his strength had vanished.

Before Shen Jixing could react, both of them tumbled into the bathtub with a splash.

“…”

“Zhou Yili—”

Wrapped in warm water, Shen Jixing immediately realized where he was. “This is your bathwater.”

His dark hair was damp, white shirt soaked nearly transparent, and he glared at Zhou Yili through the mist, annoyed.

Zhou Yili’s voice was tinged with laughter. “I only used a little. Why are you so averse to me?”

“Get out, your wound can’t get wet.” Shen Jixing decided to settle accounts later.

The warm water lapped at his collar, accentuating the cool, pale line of his neck.

Zhou Yili pressed him against the edge of the tub, forcing his wet, fair neck to arch back, his hand cupping the nape as he bent down to kiss him.

“I’m kneeling, my shoulders didn’t touch the water. Open your mouth.”