ICSTC CH27: Tidal Warning

The moment the words left Chi Zhiyue’s mouth, the person before him let out a frantic cry. With a sudden spring in his step, Luo Ye darted toward the stairwell landing in a swift, desperate flurry.

“Holy shit, holy shit!”

Luo Ye kept his back firmly turned toward him, both hands clutching the hem of his jacket tightly downward to shield his thighs completely.

His profile was crimson all the way through, his head buried low as tousled strands of hair veiled the tip of his nose. “I—I only reacted like this because I haven’t been feeling well lately! I’m usually not this much of a pervert!”

Chi Zhiyue fell quiet for a few seconds before slowly asking, “Do you need a hand?”

“No, I don’t!” Luo Ye was already mortified beyond belief; that offer made him explode on the spot.

Is that the kind of thing you just offer to help with?!!!

“Y-You go on ahead! I’ll come down in a bit!”

Spitting out those incoherent words, he spun around and vanished like a wisp of smoke.

Chi Zhiyue remained standing where he was, watching the vacant doorway without moving an inch.

The multicolored light streaming through the stained-glass window slowly dimmed as drifting clouds obscured the sun, and the amusement in his eyes cooled slightly along with it.

He brought his palm to the tip of his nose, the texture of the silk he had stroked moments earlier seeming to linger on his skin.

A scent of gardenia mingled with the refreshing aroma of citrus—a little different from what he had smelled last time, yet still wonderfully sweet. It suited Luo Ye perfectly.

“Wouldn’t it go down faster with some help?” Chi Zhiyue looked out the window with mild regret.

The windows in the restrooms of the new academic building were covered in a layer of mesh, keeping the view outside rather obscured.

Luo Ye sat on the closed toilet lid of the rearmost stall, forearms resting on his thighs, his head buried helplessly in both hands.

Remembering his utter mortification in the stairwell just now, he buried his face in his palms and let out a muffled groan: “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I want to die—”

So humiliating. This was too humiliating! In twenty-five years of living, he had never suffered such a disgraceful moment!!

He was never like this before, was he? Wasn’t it just a casual touch? How could he have gotten hard from that? Didn’t this make him look like a complete deviant?! What was Chi Zhiyue going to think of him?

Even if the man liked him, seeing him act like this would surely make him feel disgusted, wouldn’t it??

Ding—dong—

Luo Ye wallowed in his distress for quite a while until the dismissal bell rang outside.

The chime pulled his wandering mind back to reality.

Slowly raising his head, he took in the cramped, suffocating stall. He drew a deep breath, deciding to handle the immediate problem in his pants before continuing to wallow in self-pity.

To force the damn thing down, Luo Ye frantically scrolled through short videos. Especially the kind of brain-rotting, utterly boring content that made people yawn—videos he used to scoff at were now his holy grail.

For example, a live-stream sales pitch where one host screamed: “No, no, absolutely not! Are you really slashing the price that low?! Our business is going to go bankrupt!”

The other host yelled: “For our family of viewers, what does going bankrupt matter?!”

Immediately after, two middle-aged uncles whose combined bellies looked eight months pregnant stripped off their work uniforms and began aggressively dancing in front of the mirror to an EDM remix of What Does It Matter.

Luo Ye: “…”

Watching those videos not only cooled his heat, it genuinely made him laugh out of sheer exasperation.

No wonder ancient scholars always wrote poetry after being exiled; seeing a tragedy of this magnitude made him want to drop a verse too.

Having survived his tribulation in the stall, Luo Ye returned to the classroom just as the parent-teacher meeting concluded. Day students carried their backpacks, waiting for their parents so they could head home, filling the corridor with lively chatter once more.

Chi Zhiyue’s tall 1.9-meter frame stood out instantly in the crowd. Luo Ye spotted him at a glance, flanked by Xu Menghua and Luo Peng as the three huddled together in conversation.

Ever since finding out that Chi Zhiyue and Xu Menghua were family, Luo Ye’s perspective of Chi Zhiyue had inadvertently shifted to “a classmate’s guardian.”

Dating an “ex-colleague” sounded like an ordinary urban romance; dating his “younger brother’s classmate’s guardian,” however, felt tinged with something forbidden.

Goosebumps prickled up Luo Ye’s arms.

Chi Zhiyue was the first to notice him approaching. A trace of a smile flitted across his features as he raised a hand to wave.

The moment Luo Ye saw Chi Zhiyue’s face, memories of the stairwell flooded back. Walking over with an unnatural expression, he asked, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Brother!” Luo Peng immediately stepped behind Luo Ye, sticking close to his side.

Luo Ye patted his shoulder gently.

“Talking about my brother’s crush, asking us to give him some advice,” Xu Menghua stated bluntly.

Luo Ye paused, instinctively glancing toward Chi Zhiyue.

Chi Zhiyue shrugged, speaking with absolute calm: “Since I wasn’t sure what the other person was thinking, I figured I’d ask them.”

Luo Peng clearly couldn’t understand, frowning as he said, “Asking me isn’t going to help.”

Luo Ye: “…” No, asking him helps the most.

“I haven’t even met him,” Luo Peng added.

You’ve looked at him for over ten years, Luo Ye mentally grumbled.

At that moment, Chi Zhiyue answered in a leisurely tone, “All you need to know is that he’s gorgeous, kind-hearted, and has a great personality.”

…?? You’re just going to say that out loud so casually?

Luo Ye stared at Chi Zhiyue. With one hand in his trouser pocket, his shoulder line neat and upright, the man looked down at Luo Peng with a calm gaze.

Xu Menghua grumbled, utterly dissatisfied: “If that’s how it is, why ask me? It’s not like you’re bringing him home for me to see anyway.”

“Well, that depends on whether he’s willing to come home with me.” Chi Zhiyue tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting bit by bit until it settled squarely on Luo Ye’s face.

Luo Ye’s chest tightened. Hastily averting his eyes, he took Luo Peng’s hand and said, “Pengpeng, let’s head out.”

“Okay.” Luo Peng obediently backed away with him.

“I can give you two a ride,” Chi Zhiyue offered, stepping forward.

“No need, I rode my motorcycle here.” Luo Ye looked back at him, pausing for a beat. “If you need anything, text me on WeChat.”

The corners of Chi Zhiyue’s lips curved slightly: “Alright. Ride safe.”

“Yeah.” Luo Ye cast him one last glance before turning to leave.

Passing by the parking garage, Luo Ye’s eyes inadvertently skimmed over a familiar license plate, and his footsteps paused on instinct.

Luo Peng looked back at him: “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Tearing his eyes away from the car, Luo Ye walked over to his motorcycle.

He put on his own helmet first, then picked up the second one to hand to Luo Peng, patiently buckling the chin strap for him: “In a couple of days, I’m heading out with a friend. I should be back the same day. Do you want to go hang out at Brother Wan Qing’s place?”

“Sure,” Luo Peng nodded. “I can finish that Lego set from last time.”

Luo Ye chuckled: “I thought you were going to interrogate me about where I was going again. Weren’t you totally clinging to me while I was away these past few days?”

“I’ll miss you a bit, of course. But I’d rather you didn’t worry about me and just went wherever you want to go,” Luo Peng murmured softly.

Luo Ye swung his leg over the motorcycle. Luo Peng hopped onto the back, lightly wrapping his arms around his waist.

Catching his brother’s well-behaved expression in the rearview mirror, Luo Ye teased intentionally: “You’re my brother. If I don’t look out for you, who am I supposed to look out for? Or are you saying you want to go be someone else’s little brother?”

“I don’t want that,” Luo Peng hugged Luo Ye tightly, leaning against his back as he mumbled, “I just want you to be happy every day.”

Just as Luo Ye felt a soft warmth blossom in his chest, Luo Peng added: “Ever since you quit your job, I feel like you haven’t been very happy. Did you really love working that much?”

Luo Ye: “…” Who on earth loves working?

It was because he had thought he was dying back then, which was why he couldn’t bring himself to be happy.

Unable to explain it that way, Luo Ye simply squeezed the back of Luo Peng’s hand: “I’m plenty happy right now. You have no idea how good it felt to have your teacher praise me in front of all those parents.”

“I told you, I wouldn’t make you lose face.” Luo Peng’s grip loosened slightly, shifting to hold onto Luo Ye’s jacket instead.

No matter how smart he was, how tall he grew, or how deep his voice cracked during his vocal transition, at the end of the day, he was still just a fifteen-year-old kid who couldn’t hide his worries.

Luo Ye let out a soft laugh and gripped the handlebars: “Hold on tight, we’re heading home.”

Twenty minutes later, the motorcycle pulled into their residential complex, and the two brothers headed upstairs one after the other.

Just as Luo Ye reached the front door, his phone buzzed.

A message had arrived from Chi Zhiyue.

[Chi Zhiyue]: How is your body feeling?

[Luo Ye]: Much better, nothing wrong.

[Chi Zhiyue]: Your face was very red when you left.

[Chi Zhiyue]: Why don’t you rest for a few days?

[Luo Ye]: I’m really fine! That was just an accident!

[Chi Zhiyue]: Truly fine?

[Luo Ye]: Truly. I know my own body, my mind was sharp as a tack while riding the bike [Kneeling emoji]

[Chi Zhiyue]: Alright then.

[Chi Zhiyue]: [Confetti celebration emoji]

Seeing Luo Ye lingering at the doorway with an expression cycling between flushed red and pale white—looking like someone who had just been repeatedly spawn-camped in a video game—Luo Peng couldn’t help but ask curiously, “What’s up?”

“Nothing. When’s the takeout getting here?” Luo Ye casually changed the topic, stuffing the phone into his pocket as he walked inside.

Neither of them had planned on cooking, so they had ordered takeout on the way back.

Luo Peng’s attention was effectively diverted. Pulling out a chair, he obediently sat down, monitoring the real-time delivery status on his phone: “Five more minutes.”

Luo Ye ruffled Luo Peng’s hair: “I’ll go bring in the laundry. Go do your homework, call me when the food arrives.”

Luo Ye briskly gathered the clothes from the balcony, folding them neatly into the wardrobe. Just as he finished, a knock sounded at the door from the delivery courier.

Luo Peng had mostly ordered dishes Luo Ye loved: spicy duck, chopped chili fish head… high quality at an affordable price, a whole table of delicious food that cost less than one of Lan Ju’s lunches.

Sitting around the small dining table, the two finished their meal in warm harmony, then tidied the table and washed the dishes together.

Luo Ye returned to his room and booted up his computer, sending Chi Zhiyue the itinerary for Saturday along with the intersecting subway stations between the north and south sides of the city.

[Luo Ye]: Address sent. Meet at 10 AM, just follow my lead then. Cycling first, then the amusement park. Wear something comfortable.

[Chi Zhiyue]: [Salute emoji] Understood, Tour Guide.

[Chi Zhiyue]: Leaving my brain behind to follow you.

[Luo Ye]: Good, good, good. Just you wait, I’ll make it unforgettable for you.

[Luo Ye]: [Laughing emoji]

On the fourteenth, the sun made a rare appearance, its warm rays draping over Luo Ye and leaving him comfortably warm all over.

Luo Ye had deliberately chosen an outfit tailored for mobility: a gray-and-black color-blocked jacket over dark gray casual trousers, paired with black-and-white sneakers and a minimalist athletic crossbody bag.

He had dropped Pengpeng off at Wan Qing’s place before heading over. Before leaving, he had subtly probed Wan Qing, but upon hearing he was going out to play, Wan Qing hadn’t pressed further.

By the looks of it, Wan Qing definitely knew he and Chi Zhiyue were seeing each other.

It was about a five-minute walk from Wan Qing’s home to the subway station. As Luo Ye walked, he unzipped his crossbody bag to double-check his belongings.

Tissues, an umbrella, the blue bottle of short-acting suppressants…

He had initially assumed the sudden heat four days ago signaled the onset of his estrus cycle. Yet after careful observation over the past two days, there hadn’t been any other changes; his body felt even calmer and more stable than usual, which was why he felt safe heading out today.

Still, to prevent any mishaps, he had packed backup medication.

Crossing the street, just a few meters from the subway entrance, he spotted Chi Zhiyue standing beside a tree planter. Wearing headphones, his head tilted slightly upward, his gaze lingered on the sky.

Chi Zhiyue wore a cream-colored crewneck sweater paired with dark gray trousers, layered under a thin black padded jacket, the collar revealing a peek of caramel brown.

Unexpectedly, their pants were matching colors.

Luo Ye walked up: “You’re here so early.”

Chi Zhiyue slipped off his headphones, turning to look at him with a smile: “Only twelve minutes early.”

“You’re actually timing it?” Luo Ye glanced at the countdown in the sky. With that giant clock up there, he never bothered checking the time, yet here Chi Zhiyue was, timing his arrival down to the minute.

“Just happened to look.” Chi Zhiyue took Luo Ye’s hand naturally, his fingers interlocking tightly with his palm. “You look great today too.”

Beaming at the compliment, Luo Ye spoke with a touch of smug pride: “Alright, just stick with me today. I’ll show you the way and guarantee you have a blast.”

They took the light rail straight to the neighboring city of Lianyuan.

The ocean at Lianyuan was noticeably bluer than Zhaonan’s, clear and translucent. The beach was located on the outskirts of Lianyuan; taking the light rail from Zhaonan was actually faster than traveling from within downtown Lianyuan itself.

The municipal government had built a dedicated fitness greenway circling the beach for coastal cycling and jogging.

The two rented professional road bikes—far pricier than standard shared bikes—which automatically processed the return payment once they reached the terminal station.

Riding side by side, they advanced along the winding coastal highway, their tires humming against the cool asphalt.

Their pace shifted between fast and slow.

When slow, they soaked in the seaside scenery, watching waves wash over the sand and distant fishing boats drift across shimmering waters.

The wind whipped past Luo Ye’s ears. To keep his hair from getting in the way, he had clipped the front to one side and tied the rest into a ponytail.

Chi Zhiyue remarked that he looked like a blooming cockscomb flower from behind, to which Luo Ye merely grumbled a couple of times, ignoring the jab.

He watched the sunlight spill across the sea, tinting the azure water into a warm, glowing amber.

Recalling the last time he visited the sea, it had been when he was apartment hunting during the summer, bringing Luo Peng to eat at a nearby diner.

Luo Ye couldn’t help but say, “I really like coming to the ocean. Probably because my hometown didn’t have a sea, so I always wanted to come see it.”

“Which is why you moved here,” Chi Zhiyue remarked beside him, his tone gentle.

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Luo Ye pondered for a moment. “More importantly, it was close to my university, and a lot of my friends ended up working around here.”

“It really is a great spot for working folks,” Chi Zhiyue agreed with a nod.

After riding for a stretch, Luo Ye began to feel warm and unzipped his jacket.

A cool sea breeze rushed in, billowing the fabric outward like an arched cloak.

Midway through, they spotted a few silhouettes ahead, riding various bicycles along the shoreline.

Occasionally, someone would slow down, pointing at a distant island while conversing in hushed tones, their laughter carried along by the sea breeze.

Everything felt tranquil and deeply comfortable.

After roughly twenty minutes of cycling, they reached the designated bike return station. The drop-off happened to be right next to an amusement park; their timing was impeccable, and the lines weren’t long.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the park’s vibrant glass dome, the air laced with the sugary scent of cotton candy and the roasted sweetness of popcorn.

Tugging Chi Zhiyue by the arm, Luo Ye led the way to the pirate ship ride first.

The ship swayed gently at the start, but soon the pendulum arcs widened drastically, shifting from lazy swells to violent, stomach-dropping plummets.

Wind whipped everyone’s hair back as wave after wave of screams erupted. Luo Ye wasn’t scared, but he shouted along with the crowd anyway.

Afterward, they hit the drop tower and bumper cars—both high-adrenaline rides.

Luo Ye had also considered the romantic couple rides recommended online, but the carousel looked utterly boring; they could find that in any residential park.

As a responsible guide, Luo Ye still consulted his tourist: “For the next stop, do you want the roller coaster or the carousel?”

“What’s the fun in a carousel? Let’s do the roller coaster,” Chi Zhiyue replied casually, reaching out to tuck away a stray strand of Luo Ye’s fallen hair.

“What a coincidence, that’s what I wanted too!” Luo Ye grinned broadly, ticking off the roller coaster on his phone’s memo app.

Riding a wave of excitement, Luo Ye’s cat ears had popped out ever since they stepped off the pirate ship.

However, tourists wearing animal-ear headbands were everywhere along the path, making his pair blend in completely.

On the way to the coaster, Luo Ye passed several stalls selling animal-ear headbands, seeing plenty of ordinary humans sporting them too.

Looking over at Chi Zhiyue beside him, he asked curiously, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show your ears.”

Chi Zhiyue nodded, keeping his voice low: “My ear has a tear in it, so I don’t really like showing it.”

Not expecting that kind of answer, a sudden pang of guilt struck Luo Ye. Squeezing Chi Zhiyue’s hand, he apologized: “I didn’t mean to pry into your scars, I was just asking casually.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not upset.” Chi Zhiyue came to a stop. “Can I touch yours?”

“Sure.” Luo Ye ducked his head, pointing toward the top to signal him to go ahead.

Chi Zhiyue touched the cat ears he had been eyeing for so long, gently pinching the tip. The fluffy, velvety texture spread across his fingertips.

The feline ears were exceptionally sensitive; at that light graze, the tips twitched twice in succession.

With his head lowered, Luo Ye couldn’t see Chi Zhiyue’s expression, only hearing him speak: “Doctors must praise you a lot, right? They’re so glossy and look very healthy.”

“I guess.” Luo Ye looked up, covering his ears with his hands. “I don’t know why, but they keep popping out on their own these past few days.”

Chi Zhiyue mused, “Maybe it’s a sign you’re catching a cold? From alternating between hot and cold weather?”

Luo Ye didn’t think it was a cold. Since his body felt completely fine, he brushed it aside.

Glancing at his phone, he said, “We can worry about a cold later, we need to go line up. The roller coaster here is insanely popular, it takes at least an hour.”

With that, he seized Chi Zhiyue’s hand and sprinted toward the queue.

Just as Luo Ye predicted, the line was massive; it took over forty minutes before their turn arrived.

Seated in the very front row, the coaster climbed steadily upward. The world around them tilted away, shrinking into the distance.

Looking over at Chi Zhiyue, who was clutching his hand tightly, Luo Ye asked, “Are you scared of this?”

“If I am, will you protect me?” Chi Zhiyue countered.

“At a time like this, the only thing protecting you is the seatbelt,” Luo Ye chuckled, though he laced his fingers firmly through Chi Zhiyue’s. “Still, since I brought you here, I definitely won’t let go.”

Chi Zhiyue fell quiet for a few seconds before speaking in a slow, smiling tone: “Luo Ye, do you know what the suspension bridge effect is?”

Luo Ye nodded: “Yeah.”

“Then if my heart is pounding uncontrollably right now, do you think it’s because of the roller coaster, or because of you?” Chi Zhiyue murmured softly.

Luo Ye froze. Before he could formulate a reply, the coaster crested the peak and plunged downward without warning.

A tide of screams crashed over them alongside the terrifying weightlessness. Yet Luo Ye couldn’t hear a single sound from Chi Zhiyue; amid the howling gale, the only thing he could clearly register was his hand being gripped with crushing intensity.

He genuinely couldn’t tell anymore.

Because his own heart was pounding wildly at that very moment—was it the roller coaster, or those tightly interlocked fingers? Luo Ye had no way of knowing.

After the ride ended and Luo Ye unbuckled his harness, the adrenaline rush quietly ebbed away, replaced by an inexplicable restlessness and a dry scratchiness in his throat.

Tugging Chi Zhiyue’s sleeve, he pointed toward a restaurant nearby. Without a word, Chi Zhiyue understood.

The restaurant was packed. Many patrons ordered lightly, afraid of being too full for the rides, but since the two had already hit everything, they ordered whatever looked good.

Having visited a few times before, Chi Zhiyue had plenty of experience; the dishes he selected were surprisingly delicious, lacking the usual tourist-trap quality.

Sitting by the window, Luo Ye took a sip of iced cola, letting out a refreshed sigh: “I really couldn’t tell that you’d enjoy coming to places like this.”

“Just like you, I never got to visit when I was younger, so I had a bit of an obsession with it,” Chi Zhiyue explained, squeezing ketchup onto the fry box.

Luo Ye blinked in surprise, tilting his head: “You never went with your classmates?”

Chi Zhiyue looked up at him: “I never attended high school. I self-studied for the college entrance exams.”

“Oh, because back then you were…” Luo Ye trailed off.

Because he had been an orphan back then, lacking access to formal schooling.

Luo Ye instantly regretted bringing it up. Weren’t they supposed to have an unforgettable date? Why did he keep poking at sore spots?

He took a large, silent gulp of cola, his expression turning sour with self-reproach.

Right then, Chi Zhiyue suddenly caught his wrist. With a gentle pull, he pressed Luo Ye’s palm against his own cheek.

The touch was soft and cool. Luo Ye’s thumb rested right beneath his lower eyelid, grazing distance from his eyelashes.

There was no trace of displeasure on Chi Zhiyue’s face from the topic, only a tender smile.

Fixing his hazel eyes onto him, he asked softly, “So, Luo Ye, aren’t I amazing? Don’t you have any compliments for me?”

Compliments? He certainly wanted to praise him.

Yet only two words popped into Luo Ye’s head at that moment.

And he blurted them out honestly: “You’re fucking insane.”

…Fuck, I’m an idiot.

Luo Ye regretted it the second it left his mouth.

Chi Zhiyue was stunned for a few seconds before bursting into low laughter, his shoulders trembling faintly.

Whether intentional or not, the corner of his lips brushed against Luo Ye’s palm.

That inexplicable surge of stifling heat flared up in Luo Ye’s chest again—strange and intensely uncomfortable.

Awkwardly yanking his hand back, he stood up: “I’m going to the restroom. Just sit tight for a bit.”

Without waiting for Chi Zhiyue’s response, he bolted out the door like the wind.

There was a restroom behind the restaurant, but the line was far too long, so Luo Ye ran toward the public restroom by the carousel instead.

Sure enough, fewer people rode the carousel, and the restroom was completely empty. Luo Ye washed his hands and retraced his steps.

Along the path, quite a few beastmen had let their ears out just like him. He brushed past several felines alone, all radiating rich, heavy scents.

Those scents didn’t smell like perfume at all, but rather…

Luo Ye’s pupils shrank violently. A dreadful realization crashed over him, but trying to cover his nose was already too late.

The heat he had forcibly suppressed earlier erupted like an awakened volcano, churning and burning wildly through his veins, surging straight up his limbs until his entire body seized with feverish stiffness.

Every breath felt like inhaling pure flame.

Before he could even steady his footing, violent vertigo struck him head-on. His vision blurred into scattered static, his balance giving way as his body swayed uncontrollably.

He scrambled to brace himself against the adjacent wall, barely keeping his balance.

A breeze drifted through the corridor, but that faint chill couldn’t quell the sweltering fire consuming him.

A few young passersby walking past chatting caught sight of Luo Ye’s deathly pale face and hurried over: “Hey man, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Luo Ye panted, head hung low as he waved them off. “Do you know where the nearest medical room is?”

One of the friends chimed in: “I know, I know! I’ll take you there!”

Leaning on their support, Luo Ye managed to stand upright. His very first thought was to call Chi Zhiyue.

Yet he possessed zero strength, lacking even the energy to lift his arm and dig out his phone.

“You have someone with you, right? I see you’re wearing a matching ring.”

“Uh, yeah,” Luo Ye rasped out, his voice thick and slurred. “He’s waiting at the restaurant. Have the public address system page him.”

Chi Zhiyue’s fingers rubbed the necklace at his chest, his eyes fixed on the tourists hurrying past outside the window, attempting to pick out that familiar figure.

Once Luo Ye stepped away, everything had grown conspicuously quiet. The lively commotion of the park seemed muted.

He hadn’t found it boring before, so why did everything lose its charm the moment the other guy stepped away?

Chi Zhiyue smiled faintly: “If he knew I was thinking like this, he’d definitely get flustered again.”

Yet he rather enjoyed seeing Luo Ye flustered—trying not to hurt someone’s feelings, awkward, yet thoroughly endearing.

Right at that moment, the amusement park’s public address system crackled to life, a gentle female voice echoing through the indoor speakers.

“Paging announcement: Mr. Chi Zhiyue from Zhaonan City, please proceed to the first aid station immediately. Your friend, Luo Ye, is waiting for you.”

“Paging announcement: Mr. Chi—”

The words detonated like a thunderclap, freezing Chi Zhiyue instantly. He bolted out of his chair, all color draining from his face.

Why would Luo Ye be in the medical room? Was he injured? Did he collapse?

Countless horrifying scenarios spiraled wildly through his mind. Snatching his jacket off the back of the chair, he threw it over his shoulders and sprinted out of the restaurant.

Fortunately, he knew the park’s layout like the back of his hand. Without a second of delay, he sprinted all the way, quickly locating the medical room.

Barging through the door, a nurse stepped forward: “Who are you looking for?”

Chi Zhiyue produced his ID card, his fingertips trembling visibly: “I’m Chi Zhiyue, the one paged over the broadcast. I’m looking for Luo Ye, he’s waiting for me here.”

“Oh, you’re Luo Ye’s friend,” the medical staff soothed quickly. “Don’t panic, it’s nothing life-threatening. His heat cycle simply flared up out of nowhere. We’ve already administered a short-acting suppressant, and he’s currently resting.”

Chi Zhiyue’s heart remained lodged in his throat, pressing relentlessly: “Is he truly alright? Did he fall? Did he pass out?”

“No, no,” the nurse shook her head with a smile. “Just seconds after it hit him, a few college students brought him straight over. He’s just feverish and weak. Rest assured.”

Talking as she walked, she led him into the inner partition.

The cubicle was dead silent. Luo Ye sat on a chair with his eyes closed, sweat-drenched bangs clinging messily to his smooth forehead, an unnatural flush burning across his cheeks.

Those fluffy cat ears were drooping listlessly backward, flattened into pitiful “airplane ears.”

No wonder he had kept his ears out all day—his body had lost the ability to regulate them.

Hearing footsteps, Luo Ye slowly cracked his eyes open, his hoarse voice barely a whisper: “Chi Zhiyue…”

The instant he heard that voice, the dread coiled tightly in Chi Zhiyue’s chest finally unraveled. Striding over, he crouched down, gently stroking Luo Ye’s forehead.

Still burning hot.

“Does it still hurt that badly?” Chi Zhiyue gazed straight into Luo Ye’s eyes.

Luo Ye’s gaze was clouded, his consciousness hazy. Only after a long pause did he nod faintly: “So hot… feels awful.”

The nurse nearby commented, “Normally, the heat should have subsided by now. Could he have developed a tolerance to short-acting suppressants?”

“Possibly. He mentioned he relied on oral pills before.” Chi Zhiyue stood up to speak with the nurse, his hand never leaving Luo Ye’s forehead.

“That explains it,” the female doctor nodded gently, explaining patiently. “Beastmen who become immune to short-acting suppressants don’t show obvious symptoms at first—they just feel a general feverishness, easily mistaking it for ordinary heat. In the later stages, the more pills they take, the harsher the rebound.”

She paused, adding: “I suggest you take him to a major hospital for an injectable suppressant, though ideally, he should spend it with a partner. If he develops an immunity to injections later on, things will get complicated.”

The doctor had clearly noticed their matching couple rings, pausing deliberately to cast them a gentle, knowing look.

Chi Zhiyue didn’t dispute it, nodding softly: “Thank you, Doctor. We understand.”

“Rest here for a bit then. Call me if you need anything.”

“Alright.”

Once the doctor left, Chi Zhiyue crouched before Luo Ye again.

Luo Ye hung his head, stripped entirely of the morning’s vibrant swagger. Those dark green eyes, usually so bright, were dull and lifeless, looking at him with sickly exhaustion as he whispered an apology: “I’m sorry… I didn’t think it would fall apart at the very end… I ruined it anyway.”

This was the first time Luo Ye had ever looked at him with such a pitiful expression.

Chi Zhiyue felt a heavy thud, as though his heart had plunged into a bottomless dark river.

Even at a time like this, the guy was still worrying about whether he was having fun…

Taking Luo Ye’s hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his knuckles: “Why apologize for a health issue? Let’s get to the hospital.”

“Mhm…” Luo Ye nodded faintly.

Thankfully, Luo Ye’s immunity to the oral suppressant wasn’t absolute; the medication still granted him enough lucidity to make it into a taxi toward a nearby hospital.

Once the injectable suppressant was administered, Luo Ye faded into a heavy stupor, completely forgetting how the injection went or how they left the hospital, his mind reduced to scattered fragments.

He only vaguely recalled Chi Zhiyue’s voice murmuring close to his ear, gentle and full of concern: “Do you still want to head back later?”

The last scrap of Luo Ye’s conscious mind replied: “Can’t go back… can’t let Pengpeng see.”

“Then come to my place?” Chi Zhiyue replied.

“…Fine.” Luo Ye fell unconscious the moment he agreed.

When he opened his eyes again, the scorching fever within him had subsided by half, his mind clearing slightly.

Shifting instinctively, he realized he was lying on a soft, massive bed, shoes and all.

Staring blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead: “Where is this?”

“My bedroom,” Chi Zhiyue slipped off his shoes, pulling the duvet over him. “Rest here for a while. The doctor said to take the medicine in a few minutes.”

Luo Ye reached out, his fingers brushing the back of Chi Zhiyue’s hand, mumbling a faint thank-you: “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Chi Zhiyue touched his forehead again. “The fever has come down a bit. I’ll go fetch your pills.”

When Chi Zhiyue stepped away, that comforting warmth vanished with him.

Luo Ye closed his eyes gently, burying his head into the plush bedding.

Was it because this was Chi Zhiyue’s bedroom? His entire body was enveloped in the same distinct scent; everywhere he breathed was Chi Zhiyue.

The longer he lay there, the warmer it felt. Luo Ye couldn’t help but shrug off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly onto the nightstand.

A moment later, a soft knock sounded at the bedroom door.

Luo Ye found it amusing—Chi Zhiyue was the owner of this apartment, yet he was knocking on his own door. Still, that was probably just Chi Zhiyue’s natural courtesy.

Yeah, that was just how this guy was: gentle, kind to everyone, so taking care of him was purely instinctual, just like helping him out that other time.

After all, the man had said himself—whoever collapsed, he would lend a helping hand.

“Come in,” Luo Ye called out softly.

Chi Zhiyue entered with the prescribed medication, sitting by the edge of the bed. Patting Luo Ye’s shoulder, he murmured gently: “Time to get up. Take the medicine first. It might cause a slight reaction, but you’ll feel better in a bit.”

The person in bed didn’t answer or open his eyes.

Chi Zhiyue let out a helpless chuckle, leaning down to prompt him softly once more: “Up you go.”

“No strength… can’t even open my eyes.” Luo Ye kept his eyes shut, rolling onto his back.

Chi Zhiyue had no choice but to help him take the medication in that position.

“Thanks.” Feeling the warm water soothe his throat, Luo Ye nestled deeper into the covers with a comfortable sigh.

Had he opened his eyes at that moment, he would have seen the gaze lingering over him from above—scrutinizing, drinking him in, refusing to spare even a single stray strand of his tousled hair.

Tearing his gaze away, Chi Zhiyue rose: “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be working in the living room, I’ll leave the door cracked.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luo Ye cracked his eyes open a sliver, clasping his hands in a sleepy gesture of gratitude. “Much obliged, truly.”

Chi Zhiyue chuckled softly, turning to leave the room.

Yet unexpectedly, barely five minutes after Chi Zhiyue sat down and opened his laptop, a loud crash shattered the quiet from the bedroom.

Thud!

“What happened?” Chi Zhiyue dropped the mouse, sprinting back into the bedroom.

Shoving the door open, he hit the light, his gaze rapidly taking in the scene laid bare before him.

The bed was a total wreck, the duvet kicked aside, half of it dragging on the floor.

Luo Ye, who had been resting peacefully moments ago, was now sitting against the headboard. His neck was flushed crimson, and his pants had already been pushed down to his thighs.

Catching sight of him bursting in, Luo Ye’s dazed eyes managed a faint focus, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps: “Chi Zhiyue, what do I do? Down here… it hurts so bad…”