TLDMDTBS Chapter 49

Chapter 49:

Everything that followed was incredibly chaotic, akin to a heart-pounding hurricane rescue.

When Ji Ruan was rescued, it was simply too tragic. From a distance, the stretcher was a bloody sight, and alongside it was Cheng Zizhang, who was crying so hard he nearly fainted. The air was immediately chilled to freezing point.

Song Ling and Gu Xiuyi got into the ambulance together. It was said that the driver was the best technician from the First Municipal Hospital, and inside, Song Ling felt like they were speeding as there were police cars clearing the way in front.

This was indeed the fastest speed achievable at that moment, but compared to Ji Ruan’s bleeding, it still felt unbearably slow.

Ji Ruan’s bleeding seemed unstoppable.

It wasn’t like a massive injury to a major artery that resulted in immediate heavy bleeding; rather, it flowed slowly like a stream. It didn’t look like much at first glance, but it wouldn’t stop, dripping from his calf, slowly exhausting his life away.

That leg was also… horrifying to behold. It was hard to tell what kind of rock could tear open such a wound, the flesh turned inside out, with the calf completely soaked in crimson, its original color unrecognizable.

Song Ling remembered that Ji Ruan’s skin had always been especially pale.

And the shirt that was originally wrapped around his leg? It was ruined as well. When taken off, it was drenched in blood, like a towel soaked in a basin of water for an hour; wringing it out caused blood to pour out, as if it were worthless.

But Ji Ruan’s blood couldn’t be worthless, could it?

National treasures, aren’t they rare items that can’t be bought for any price?

Song Ling had never been faint-hearted, but he couldn’t bear to look at it in the ambulance and turned his head, silently reciting Amitabha.

As for Gu Xiuyi, Song Ling didn’t know how to describe him. He had been holding Ji Ruan the entire time, and the doctors had to forcibly pull Ji Ruan from his arms, attaching an oxygen mask and connecting monitoring equipment.

Though he hadn’t uttered a word, he looked exceedingly stable; however, none of the doctors present thought he was stable at all and directly abandoned any attempts to converse with him.

All of Ji Ruan’s medical history, details about his condition, and allergies were relayed to the doctors through Song Ling, who dug up the information.

Once they arrived at the hospital, it was a frenzy. By the time Ji Ruan was pushed into the emergency room, his bleeding speed had noticeably slowed, the blood now a pale red, with weak breathing—a clear sign of severe blood loss.

However, the attending physician was a big shot, a pillar in the department, maintaining a calm demeanor as he swiftly conducted necessary checks, contacted the operating room, and arranged for urgent blood transfusions. Gu Xiuyi probably managed to retain his last shred of sanity due to having such a doctor overseeing the situation.

But there was a naïve little nurse who didn’t know better, and she peered at Ji Ruan’s leg, exclaiming with a face full of pity, “Oh, the color is fading; it’s all dried up…”

Song Ling barely had time to cover her mouth. He watched helplessly as Gu Xiuyi glanced at her, causing the nurse to tremble and burst into tears.

Later on, it was said that the little nurse didn’t dare to face the families of patients for an entire month, and she was transferred to obstetrics to bask in the joy and laughter brought by new life, taking six months to recover from the shadow cast by Gu Xiuyi’s gaze.

Ji Ruan had been in the emergency room for quite some time. His blood type was rare, and the blood supply at the First Municipal Hospital was insufficient, so they urgently contacted the blood center for support.

Gu Xiuyi had foreseen this situation and had earlier arranged for blood to be sent from their hospital in City A, using a private plane for air transport, which landed on the helipad of the First Municipal Hospital with a green light.

But no matter how everyone scrambled to steal time from the hands of the Grim Reaper, this was not an age of instant transportation. While Song Ling waited outside the emergency room with Gu Xiuyi, he watched as Gu Xiuyi signed the critical condition notice three times, with each signing closer together than the last.

Finally, when the blood was delivered, several doctors and nurses rushed in with blood bags and boxes, and it seemed that things gradually stabilized inside.

At least Gu Xiuyi wouldn’t have to sign a fourth critical condition notice.

Song Ling didn’t know how long he had been waiting outside, but the cold stainless steel bench had become burning hot from him sitting on it. He couldn’t stand it anymore and got up to stretch his legs.

In contrast, Gu Xiuyi sat like an unfeeling statue, back straight, finger interlocked on his lap, with not a single expression on his face.

Except… he was covered in blood.

Song Ling tentatively offered him a pack of wet wipes: “You should wipe yourself…”

Gu Xiuyi raised his gaze, his eyes lingering on Song Ling’s face for a second. Song Ling felt a shiver run down his spine, but Gu Xiuyi soon averted his gaze, silently accepting the wipes.

The wet wipes Song Ling provided were the most ordinary kind on the market, a ten-piece pack. Gu Xiuyi used them all up; he had gotten too much blood on himself while holding Ji Ruan.

He meticulously wiped the blood from his face, neck, and hands. Some areas were already dried and darkened, refusing to come off after one or two wipes. Gu Xiuyi didn’t rush, carefully cleaning each finger one by one.

As the water blurred his vision, the once overbearing metallic smell of blood filled the air again, thick and pungent, without Gu Xiuyi showing any reaction.

The light outside the operating room was as painfully white and cold as the walls, and as he lowered his gaze, shadows deepened below his eyes, obscuring his expression. His blood-wiping movements were slow enough to be deemed elegant, an elegance that made one’s scalp tingle.

“Tomorrow, you should return to City A early and prepare a room in the family hospital.” Gu Xiuyi suddenly spoke.

This was one of the few times he had spoken since arriving at the hospital, and Song Ling perked up: “Why?”

“The conditions in this hospital are average. Ji Ruan can’t stay here to recuperate. Once the situation stabilizes, I’ll bring him back.”

Song Ling gradually fell silent.

Gu Xiuyi disregarded Song Ling’s expression, gazing into the void as if thoughtfully considering, continuing to speak to himself: “Let’s choose the top floor with the best lighting; from the day after tomorrow, that whole floor must be closed to the public.”

“The mattress should be softer; otherwise, Ji Ruan will cause a fuss. No sharp corners on any furniture or decor; the carpet should be thick, and the bathroom needs to be non-slip. The sheets and duvet covers must not be white; let’s change them to blue.”

“Put a bouquet of fresh flowers in front of the window every day, something cute and fresh, preferably dew-kissed.”

“Oh, right,” he leaned back slightly against the chair, “bring over that fortune cat from Ji Ruan’s room; he uses it to eat cherries.”

After finishing his words, he waited a long time without receiving a response, so Gu Xiuyi looked back at Song Ling: “Is there a problem?”

Song Ling’s expression looked as if he had seen a ghost.

He froze in place, managing to maintain his professional composure over the years, responding stiffly, “N-no problem…”

Gu Xiuyi’s way of saying these words was terrifying.

All of this was predicated on the assurance that Ji Ruan would be safe; yet he had just been sent for emergency treatment, his heartbeat and blood pressure dangerously low, and even the doctors dared not guarantee anything.

But what about Gu Xiuyi?

It seemed as if he didn’t consider any other outcome, lost in his own beautiful fantasy, wearing an expression of cold resolve.

It was like… an absurd command, his tone leaving no room for doubt, insisting that no surprises would occur.

If Song Ling had previously exaggerated Gu Xiuyi as terrifyingly eerie, now he genuinely felt a chill run down his spine.

Gu Xiuyi truly seemed like a madman.

Who can predict the matters of fate? Yet, he stubbornly and indifferently persisted, as if wanting fate to yield under his pressure, showcasing a cold calmness that revealed another form of neuroticism.

Song Ling’s hairs stood on end, and beads of cold sweat soaked his shirt over and over.

Gu Xiuyi turned his head slightly again to look at Song Ling, his lips pressed down as if dissatisfied with what he had just said.

Song Ling swallowed hard and tried to straighten up: “The… fortune cat? Is that the one with the slightly broken paw?”

Hearing this, Gu Xiuyi’s frown softened momentarily; anytime he thought of Ji Ruan, he would become a bit tender.

“It’s not broken,” he corrected, “Ji Ruan made it that way so he could use it to feed him cherries. Haven’t you seen it before?”

Wasn’t that just a lazy child not wanting to do anything himself? Wasn’t he the one who had complained about it when he first saw it?

Song Ling was somewhat at a loss for words, but he didn’t dare to say anything negative about Ji Ruan at the moment, quickly agreeing, “Okay, I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

Only then did Gu Xiuyi nod, revealing a slightly satisfied expression.

Bang—

The emergency room door was pushed open, and Gu Xiuyi’s expression tightened as he immediately got up to approach.

The calm and collected director looked somewhat unsteady, the back of his surgical scrubs soaked with sweat.

He took off his mask and met Gu Xiuyi’s tightly knitted brows, finally sounding relieved as he said with a smile:

“He’s been saved…”

Gu Xiuyi froze for a moment, as if trying to discern if the current situation was an illusion.

Then his brow twitched, and his tightly clenched fists unconsciously relaxed as he lowered his head and let out a long breath.

Only at that moment, from the incident until now, the tension in his back, strained for several hours, finally showed a hint of release.

But even just a little, Song Ling knew that the worst was over.

This entire long night that had been nearly crushing was finally coming to an end.

What followed were tedious paperwork and routine observations. Ji Ruan’s special constitution made him vulnerable to infections, so he was directly transferred to the ICU, where visits were not allowed. Song Ling was sent away.

Gu Xiuyi stood outside for a long time, peering through the glass. Ji Ruan’s face was obscured by various machines, and he kept staring at the heart monitor.

It wasn’t until the phrase “all vital signs are normal” was engraved in his mind that he finally left under the nurse’s urging.

He went directly back to the hotel instead of the guesthouse; the guesthouse only felt special because of Ji Ruan’s presence.

On the way, Gu Xiuyi bought a pack of cigarettes. He wasn’t a smoker and had never had a craving, but tonight he truly needed one.

Back at the hotel, he took out one cigarette and threw the rest in the trash before grabbing a lighter and heading into the bathroom, where he weakly leaned against the door and squatted down.

The hard, composed Gu Xiuyi allowed the frantic beating of his heart to overwhelm all his nerves only at that moment.

After a long while, he slowly stood and sat down beside the bathtub, trembling hands lighting a cigarette.

With his eyes closed, he could only think of Ji Ruan.

Gu Xiuyi prided himself on having strong endurance and could manage any unexpected situation with absolute calmness.

The only thing that brought him unimaginable pain was—when Ji Ruan cried.

In the ambulance, he had been holding Ji Ruan. Although Ji Ruan lacked the strength to open his eyes, Gu Xiuyi knew he was conscious and desperately wanted to be held by him.

But he needed treatment; the doctors needed to obtain his vital signs, so they forcibly pulled Ji Ruan from his arms and placed him on the cold stretcher, applying various instruments to him.

At that moment, Ji Ruan’s tears began to fall.

Even with his eyes barely open, tears streamed down his face, each drop like a tiny knife carving out Gu Xiuyi’s heart.

The bathroom light was off, and Gu Xiuyi remained still in his position, not even taking a puff from the cigarette until the ash burned down and scorched his fingers.

His head bowed low, the dim bathroom was silent, and he pressed against his eyes, allowing his shoulders to tremble ever so slightly.

—

Fortunately, according to the doctor, Ji Ruan was incredibly resilient.

With such a frail body, he fought hard to survive, managing to avoid further complications. In the afternoon of the next day, when the sunset was about to fade, he was taken out of the ICU and pushed into a specialized protective ward.

Finally, Gu Xiuyi earned the right to stay for 24 hours of continuous care.

Though his vital signs stabilized, Ji Ruan remained unconscious. The doctor explained that he had lost too much blood and needed time to recuperate through sleep, and that he would wake up slowly.

Ji Ruan lay quietly on the hospital bed, wearing an oxygen mask, while Gu Xiuyi stayed beside him yet couldn’t help but fidget.

One moment he would touch Ji Ruan’s icy fingertips, and the next he would carefully cradle his wrist.

The biggest downside of sleeping for so long without waking was that he could only rely on intravenous nutrition to sustain life. In just three short days, Ji Ruan had lost an alarming amount of weight, looking like a thin leaf; when Gu Xiuyi held his wrist, there was a significant gap.

If he didn’t eat soon, he truly would waste away.

To entice the little boy to wake up faster, while worrying, Gu Xiuyi reported the names of dishes beside Ji Ruan’s ear, reciting Aunt Zhao’s signature recipes daily.

Then, he suddenly remembered that on the day of the incident, he had planned to take Ji Ruan out for steamed perch, which Ji Ruan had seemed excited about.

Gu Xiuyi pondered for a few seconds and asked Aunt Zhao to send over the recipe for steamed perch. An hour later, he would whisper it in Ji Ruan’s ear.

By the time Ji Ruan was discharged from the hospital, he would likely have learned how to make a proper plate of steamed perch.

This became the most absurd yet enjoyable task of Gu Xiuyi’s life.

Ji Ruan cried even in his sleep, often shedding tearful, pitiful cries while wearing the oxygen mask but refusing to wake and explain why.

This was the case again at noon on the third day.

A nurse had just come by to replace a bag of nutrients. Gu Xiuyi hadn’t looked at him for half a minute before Ji Ruan began to cry again, tears rolling from the corners of his eyes, sliding down his forehead and into his hair, soaking the pillow.

Gu Xiuyi felt utterly helpless, using a tissue to follow along with the tears, shifting from heartache to resignation:

“What on earth are you crying about, little friend?” He rubbed Ji Ruan’s eye corners: “Stop crying; your eyes are already swollen like walnuts. Otherwise, when you wake up, you’ll blame me.”

“…Really not crying anymore, little friend. Time to wake up for a meal, or you’ll be too thin for anyone to recognize you.”

Gu Xiuyi talked to himself, and after a while, Ji Ruan did stop the tears, but there was no sign of waking.

He sighed, opened up his phone notes, preparing to continue with the today’s plan of reading the steamed perch recipe.

Just as he read a line, he caught out of the corner of his eye that Ji Ruan’s fingers seemed to move slightly.

Gu Xiuyi immediately set down his phone to take a closer look at Ji Ruan’s hand, then at his face, then back at the hand, his expression filled with indescribable focus.

Two seconds later, Ji Ruan’s finger moved again.

This time it was visibly distinct, certainly not a hallucination.

Gu Xiuyi’s heart began to race, and in the next second, he raised his hand to press the bell for the doctor.

While waiting for the doctor, an overwhelming joy surged within him, making Gu Xiuyi feel lightheaded.

In a moment of daze, reasoning lost its grip, and he leaned down wanting to kiss Ji Ruan fervently but halted at the last second. The overwhelming joy transformed into an incredibly gentle kiss, landing on Ji Ruan’s swollen eyelid.

A few minutes later, Ji Ruan slowly opened his eyes. After a brief examination, the doctor confirmed that everything was fine, even removing the oxygen mask that Ji Ruan had worn for three days.

The poor little boy had been in a deep sleep for three days and was now a bit dazed, lying in bed with his cheeks marked by the imprint left by the oxygen mask.

As long as he could wake up, everything else didn’t matter.

The doctor mentioned that he needed to begin with a light diet, gradually supplementing with high-nutrient, high-protein foods until returning to normal meals, followed by periodical recovery; Ji Ruan’s body had lost too much and couldn’t fully recuperate in just a day or two.

Gu Xiuyi listened carefully, and after the doctor left, he messaged Aunt Zhao to prepare some porridge and soup.

Aunt Zhao had arrived in a hurry from City A the day after the incident, ready to cook for Ji Ruan, anxiously pacing around the hotel every day.

The moment she saw Gu Xiuyi’s message, she quickly replied.

After briefing her, Gu Xiuyi sat down by the bed, noticing Ji Ruan’s confused gaze, he gently touched Ji Ruan’s cheek where the imprint had formed, smiling: “What are you looking at? Do you not recognize me?”

Ji Ruan tilted his head slightly, appearing bewildered.

Gu Xiuyi paused, feeling overjoyed, only to remember that Ji Ruan’s cochlear implant was gone, leaving him somewhat hard of hearing.

“It’s okay.” He rubbed Ji Ruan’s cheek reassuringly, then sat next to him, carefully cradling him and allowing Ji Ruan to lean against him in a half-sitting position.

Being cautious not to disturb the injury on his leg, Gu Xiuyi took extreme care with this movement.

Ji Ruan felt extremely thin, and all that Gu Xiuyi could feel was bone, but due to his weakness, Ji Ruan could only melt into Gu Xiuyi’s arms, his cheeks and lips devoid of color, gazing at Gu Xiuyi with his large eyes.

Gu Xiuyi felt a pang in his heart, pulling Ji Ruan closer, his lips near Ji Ruan’s left ear as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid. After resting a couple of days, we’ll go back home. By then, we can get you a cochlear implant again so you can hear, okay?”

Having slept for several days, Ji Ruan felt a peculiar detachment from the world; it seemed like it took him a while to comprehend each thing Gu Xiuyi said.

He stared vacantly, then instinctively sought warmth, curling up into Gu Xiuyi’s embrace and lightly nodding.

Gu Xiuyi knew Ji Ruan might not be adjusted just yet and simply held him carefully, giving him time to adapt.

After a while, Ji Ruan tugged at his sleeve, murmuring something softly, but with a dry throat and after saying a few words, he furrowed his brow. Gu Xiuyi promptly pressed his palm on Ji Ruan’s chest to stop him, retrieving a cup of warm water from the bedside.

“Alright, no more talking for now, I understand. Here, have some water.”

At this moment, Ji Ruan appeared completely submissive, quietly obedient, drinking in small sips with the help of Gu Xiuyi’s hand, and once he had enough, he leaned back into Gu Xiuyi’s embrace.

Gu Xiuyi took out his phone to text Cheng Zizhang and her mother to report Ji Ruan’s safety. Just as he pressed the screen off to set it aside, Ji Ruan suddenly grasped his hand.

Ji Ruan seemed to see something, his expression becoming serious, and he propped himself up slightly with Gu Xiuyi’s arm.

However, his pale face lacked any strength, and no matter how serious he looked, he still appeared cute.

Gu Xiuyi pinched his cheek like a child: “What’s wrong?”

Ji Ruan glanced at the phone screen as if it were a mirror, then looked up at Gu Xiuyi: “My eyes are swollen…”

It was clearly said in a somewhat complaining tone, but Ji Ruan was so weak that his voice was soft and wavy, almost pitiful to hear.

“Yeah.” Gu Xiuyi gently brushed back Ji Ruan’s hair from his temples, trying to seize the opportunity to ask why he cried while asleep.

But Ji Ruan suddenly puffed out his cheeks: “It’s all your fault.”

Gu Xiuyi: “…”

So he was actually being blamed.

Although he had expected Ji Ruan to blame him, Gu Xiuyi found it a bit laughable and attempted to reason with the sick child: “Why is it me?”

Ji Ruan’s delicate eyebrows knitted together, his gaze becoming strangely intent on Gu Xiuyi:

“Didn’t you just kiss my eye?”

“…???”

Gu Xiuyi’s smile froze.

The air suddenly fell silent.

It took Ji Ruan a lot of effort to just speak a few words, but when he saw Gu Xiuyi seeming reluctant to admit anything, he held on and said:

“You… when I just woke up, you weren’t… kissing my eye? … Don’t think I don’t know… Hah…”

After finishing, he leaned against Gu Xiuyi and closed his eyes.

So tired.

Gu Xiuyi felt utterly speechless.

God knows he had only kissed him that once, and it was an action born from extreme restraint.

But how did it turn into something so casual like Ji Ruan had just implied?

“Ji Ruan, I…”

He pinched Ji Ruan’s icy fingertips, his brain racing to find a reasonable explanation for his actions and restore his image in Ji Ruan’s heart.

But when he glanced down, Ji Ruan had gathered enough strength to look at him with those big, innocent eyes. Gu Xiuyi found his throat catching, unable to utter a single word.

After a long moment, he averted his gaze, feeling a thousand words stuck in his throat. Ultimately, it resolved itself into a simple confession:

“I’m not that kind of person.”

“Then what kind of person are you?”

“…”

Gu Xiuyi looked at Ji Ruan, beginning to feel that this little boy was deliberately teasing him.

The two exchanged quiet, lingering looks; Ji Ruan’s bright eyes shined like glimmering water as a gentle smile floated across his face, a small dimple appearing on his cheek.

Gu Xiuyi’s thoughts wavered, and he completely forgot to consider Ji Ruan’s intentions, his mind filled only with that little dimple.

After three whole days, he had finally seen Ji Ruan’s little dimple again.

Ji Ruan teased Gu Xiuyi for a while but soon became a bit fatigued, his breathing uneven.

He completely relaxed, slowly resting his forehead against Gu Xiuyi’s shoulder, rubbing against him like a small piece of candy.

Gu Xiuyi noticed Ji Ruan’s breath had grown much weaker, yet his tone sounded unusually serious, mingled with a hint of grievance:

“Hold me.”