soft, sentimental, & stupid

Ji Can rushed over to the bed. He quickly brought a cup of water for Li Jie and coaxed him to calmly take a few sips. After a brief struggle, his coughing settled and he was left swallowing loudly and clutching his chest, wide eyes staring at Ji Can. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking. Even though Ji Can didn’t look exactly like Ji Ling in this life, there was at least a family-like resemblance.

“Are you alright?” he calmly asked Li Jie. The muscle in Li Jie’s jaw tightened and he nodded once. “Good. You’ve been asleep for two days.” Ji Can helped him to sit up in the bed, arranging the pillows behind his back and pulling the blanket higher over him. The loose bed clothes he’d been dressed in weren’t very warm, only enough to maintain his modesty. He was otherwise covered in bandages.

Ji Can looked at him patiently, expecting him to ask the obvious question. But Li Jie said nothing, just watching him like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He’d actually forgotten how taciturn and shy this man could be. It brought a tender yet sour feeling to Ji Can’s chest.

He reached out to place the back of his hand against Li Jie’s forehead. Li Jie flinched and he quickly pulled his hand away.

“Good, your fever seems to have broken. Here, drink a bit more.” He pushed the cup of water back into Li Jie’s hands. Li Jie took another sip, his eyes not moving from Ji Can’s face. “Do you have a name?” Ji Can asked.

“Li Jie.” Ji Can knew his reaction was being scrutinized, but he just smiled gently, glad to find the man still had his wits.

“Is it Li as in 'muddle-headed' and Jie as in 'tongue-tied'?” he teased.

“Who are you?” Li Jie asked, his voice hoarse but demanding.

Feng Xin hadn’t changed his number. Mu Qing had, and he had also erased this man from his contacts after keeping him blocked for two years. But, he remembered the phone number. He could have called Feng Xin any time he’d wanted. Feng Xin was not meant to have the same privilege. Clearly, someone had given him Mu Qing’s number.

Mu Qing carefully directed his limbs to walk around the cardboard boxes he’d been stacking around the living room. He picked up an embroidered couch cushion and tossed it onto the rug before climbing down to lie on the floor. He held the phone up over himself, looked up at the tiny water stain he’d never painted over, and then at the screen.

818-555-3364 2m Your rooms are set up photo attachment

Mu Qing unlocked his phone, opening the photo expressionlessly. He received two more as he was examining the first. Unblinking, he carefully scoured each, checking that everything on the list he’d emailed to Feng Xin was there. He would have to rearrange everything because Feng Xin had no sense of decor or logic, but it was all there. It had only been a week and a half. He must have worked hard.

Mu Qing frowned and blocked his number.

A moment later, Mu He sent a photo of himself holding up a salad, posed in the style of a mugshot. Mu Qing laughed out loud.

Mood suddenly lifted, he unblocked Feng Xin, adding his number to his contacts.