“Zou Yang, your injuries are not light, and you’ve been unconscious for days,” Dad said, his voice a bit cold as he looked at him. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear what you said today. I’ll come see you again when you’re fully lucid.”

“No loud noises in the ward. The patient just got out of the ICU,” a nurse said as she walked in. “I heard you from outside just now. Don’t disturb his rest!”

Zou Yang didn’t speak. He closed his eyes.

When he heard his dad walk out and close the door, he exhaled sharply.

The various monitors by the bed beeped monotonously in different lengths and pitches. The rhythm was always slightly off, making him feel like he couldn’t catch his breath.

Zou Yang tried to take a deep breath, but a sharp pain suddenly tore through his chest. It was immediately followed by a wave of nausea, and as his stomach contracted, his head started throbbing too.

His mom, who had been crying quietly beside him, heard his rapid, labored breathing and rushed over to press the call bell.

“Xiao Yang! Xiao Yang! What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Mom touched his face in a panic.

The nurse ran in, checked the monitors by the bed, and swapped Zou Yang’s oxygen tube for a mask. “Blood oxygen dropped to 89, respiration 36… Auntie, don’t let him get agitated. He needs complete bed rest…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mom kept saying, her voice full of panic and guilt. “I didn’t think it would…”

Zou Yang wanted to comfort her, but he couldn’t catch his breath and couldn’t speak at all. He couldn’t even lift his hand. Helpless and in pain, he closed his eyes.

“Where does it hurt?” The nurse leaned closer.

“…Hurts,” Zou Yang managed through gritted teeth.

“Here in the chest, right?” The nurse pressed a button on a device by the bed and turned to his mom. “Auntie, I told you before, deep breathing or coughing could trigger pain right now… If he’s in pain, he can press this analgesic pump…”

“I remember, I remember,” Mom wiped her eyes. “I just panicked for a moment…”

“Auntie, you should really hire someone to help. You’re too exhausted like this,” the nurse whispered while checking the IV drip.

“I don’t trust anyone else,” Mom said, her head lowered.

“You’ve been here for days straight. What about that uncle who came by before? Didn’t he say he wanted to help?” the nurse asked.

“We don’t need him,” Mom said.

The analgesic pump kicked in quickly. Zou Yang closed his eyes wearily. After the wave of pain passed, he suddenly felt overwhelmingly sleepy.

His mom still hadn’t told him the extent of his injuries. He didn’t know how badly he was hurt, only that everything felt wrong—pain, swelling, and his moments of complete clarity were very short. He just felt sleepy all the time…

The door clicked.

Zou Yang’s hand, which had been reaching out to lock the door, froze instantly.

Before he could react, the door burst open.

It was dark all around, impossible to see clearly…

Fan Gang’s face suddenly appeared in the doorway, raising his gun and aiming it at him.

“Xiao Yang, Zou Yang, it’s okay, it’s over now…”

Someone was speaking by his ear.

Zou Yang used every ounce of his strength to open his eyes.

The darkness faded, and the cabinet opposite the hospital bed came into view. A small patch of sunlight slanted through the window and rested on the cabinet door.

But Fan Gang’s afterimage still lingered every time he blinked.

“Xiao Yang, you had a nightmare. Breathe slowly…” It was Uncle Lü’s voice.

“Uncle Lü.” He turned his head, taking a long time to focus before he could see Uncle Lü’s face clearly.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Uncle Lü said, bending over the bed. “It’s all right now, kid. Does it hurt anywhere? Were you just dreaming?”

“…Fan Jun,” Zou Yang said, seeing Uncle Lü as if grasping at a fleeting wisp of news about him. “How is he?”

“He’s okay too,” Uncle Lü said. “Don’t worry.”

“Where is he?” Zou Yang asked.

“He’s in this hospital too,” Uncle Lü replied.

“Don’t lie to me.” It took effort for Zou Yang to speak. His voice felt hollow, likely because his lungs were injured too.

“I’m not lying to you, he really is in this hospital,” Uncle Lü insisted.

“Take a picture,” Zou Yang said. “Let me see.”

Uncle Lü wasn’t a good liar. Hearing this, his eyes flickered. Zou Yang gathered his strength and didn’t speak again, just stared at him.

Finally, Uncle Lü let out a soft sigh: “He hasn’t woken up yet…”

Zou Yang felt his breathing hitch. His fingers immediately hooked the button for the analgesic pump, holding it tightly.

“His condition is stable for now,” Uncle Lü spoke quickly, not daring to pause. “It’s just… his injuries are a bit severe. He’ll be fine once he wakes up.”

“Tell me everything you know.” Zou Yang stared at Uncle Lü.

Uncle Lü was silent for a moment, looking at him. “Xiao Yang, don’t make your mom worry.”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang replied. “And don’t… make me worry. Or else I won’t… be able to rest.”

Uncle Lü fell silent again. After a long while, as if making up his mind, he glanced at the door first, then leaned closer. “Don’t worry. Fan Jun… he’s hurt pretty badly and hasn’t woken up, but his vitals are stable now. Because he fell off the building with that guy, and that guy is involved in a murder case, Fan Jun’s room is under surveillance with police guarding it until the investigation clears things up. It’s for his own safety. Once the results are out, he’ll be moved to a regular ward…”

“Mm.” Zou Yang closed his eyes.

For the past two days, his head and face had been wrapped in bandages, and he wore an oxygen mask. His entire head and face felt numb, but right now, he could still feel tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

After a moment, he spoke again: “Xiao Bai and Da Hei?”

“Xiao Bai is okay. After they processed the scene that day, Lü Ze took him to the pet hospital. He’s hospitalized now too—injured eye and some fractures, but otherwise fine,” Uncle Lü said softly. “Da Hei…”

“He ran away, didn’t he?” Zou Yang asked.

“Da Hei is easily spooked. He probably hid because he was scared,” Uncle Lü said. “I’ve told the kids at the gym and the neighbors. They’ll let me know if they see him.”

“He’s… a white cat.” Zou Yang said.

After Fan Gang broke in, he hadn’t seen Da Hei again. That guy was agile; he probably hid in Fan Jun’s room at first and then made a run for it.

Zou Yang closed his eyes.

“I know, I told them,” Uncle Lü smiled. “A white cat named Da Hei.”

“Fan Jun named him.” Zou Yang twitched the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, that kid. The black dog is named Xiao Bai,” Uncle Lü said, a faint glimmer of tears in his eyes as he turned his head away. “He’s always like this…”

“Did Fan Jun…” Zou Yang gasped twice, “get shot?”

Uncle Lü wiped his eyes with his hand and didn’t speak.

Zou Yang’s tears welled up instantly. When he opened his mouth, his voice broke completely: “Where?”

“Left… just above the chest,” Uncle Lü patted his hand gently. “Missed the vital organs. A little below the shoulder…”

Which shot was it?
The one fired past the short guy?
Or the one aimed at him?

“Xiao Yang, don’t think about this, and stop asking around,” Uncle Lü said. “No matter what, his condition is stable now. You need to rest and recover properly. Don’t make your mom worry.”

“Mm,” Zou Yang agreed. “Where’s my mom?”

“…She went home to get some rest and bring some clean clothes,” Uncle Lü said, sounding a bit unnatural.

Though Zou Yang’s mind was groggy, he could still think.

Every time he opened his eyes from his stupor, his mom was sitting there. She was probably physically exhausted. When his dad came, it wasn’t just Zou Yang who got triggered—his mom had been hurt by it too.

And whatever “nonsense” he had blurted out while semi-conscious, it must have been something she couldn’t accept.

Even though Uncle Lü had been at the hospital these past few days, his mom hadn’t let him visit until she couldn’t hold on anymore and Uncle Lü was finally allowed in to help.

“She’s not sick, is she?” Zou Yang asked.

“Just tired, needs a break,” Uncle Lü said. “I’m staying with you today. She’ll definitely be back tomorrow; no one can stop her.”

“Mm,” Zou Yang responded.

“Fan Jun’s condition is stable. You don’t need to worry,” Uncle Lü added hesitantly. “You… shouldn’t ask your mom. She doesn’t know the details either.”

“…I understand.” Zou Yang forced a smile.

He didn’t ask his mom about Fan Jun’s condition again. As agonizing as it was, seeing his usually beautiful mom suddenly so haggard, with dark circles under her eyes and unkempt hair, he could only endure it.

Uncle Lü didn’t come by again either. He probably called, but his mom’s attitude hadn’t been great.

Even though they hired someone to help look after Zou Yang, she still stayed by his bed every single day.

After all, Zou Yang had never experienced such agony or such severe injuries in his entire life—the sudden spikes of pain, the waking up terrified from nightmares only to fall back into a stupor…

This was also the first time Zou Yang learned that true terror dragged on endlessly, far longer than physical pain, and it didn’t fade with time.

The clearer his mind got, the more intense the terror became.

Any sudden person or sound would startle him.

What about Fan Jun?
How was Fan Jun doing now?
Had he woken up?
Could he speak? Could he move?
Was he scared too?

“Wen Rui and the others are here,” his mom said, holding his hand. “They’re almost at the room.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang turned his head toward the door.

He had been awake for over ten days, and his condition had improved significantly. The visiting restrictions had finally been lifted, and his roommates were finally allowed to see him.

Liu Wenrui practically jogged to the door. The moment he walked in and saw Zou Yang, tears flooded his eyes.

“Fuck me.” He raised a hand to wipe his tears and walked over to the bed. “Fuck…”

Zou Yang sighed softly. “Keep it civilized.”

“How did…” Li Zhiyue handed a large box to his mom and looked at the monitors and the pile of IV drips by the bed. “How is it this bad?”

“It’s already much better,” Zou Yang said.

“How bad must it have been before then?” Crying, Liu Wenrui hovered his hand hesitantly over Zou Yang’s head and body, not daring to actually touch him.

“Stop crying for a second,” Zhang Chuanlong said. “If you make him cry too, it’ll mess with his recovery!”

“Oh.” Liu Wenrui leaned in to look at Zou Yang’s face. “You can see me, right? It’s me, Wen Rui.”

“I can see you,” Zou Yang looked at him. “Don’t need to smell you.”

“Fuck,” Liu Wenrui laughed through his tear-filled eyes. “Your mouth isn’t injured at all.”

“Mm.” Zou Yang looked at Li Zhiyue and Zhang Chuanlong. “Why did you guys come back early?”

“You asking that means you have no conscience,” Li Zhiyue said. “We bought tickets the day we found out what happened to you.”

Zou Yang smiled.

“Living at my house was so annoying. My mom drove me crazy, so I moved to my grandma’s with my dad,” Liu Wenrui lowered his voice. “Fan…”

“I need some water.” Zou Yang quickly cut him off and shot him a look.

“I’ll get it.” Liu Wenrui reacted fast, turning around to pour water into a cup.

It wasn’t until Zou Yang’s mom went to the doctor’s office to talk that Liu Wenrui quickly asked again: “What happened? How is Fan Jun doing?”

“You guys go find him in a bit,” Zou Yang said. “I don’t know which room he’s in, and I don’t know how he’s doing. No one tells me.”

“Your mom doesn’t tell you either?” Li Zhiyue was stunned.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang replied.

“Why?” Zhang Chuanlong didn’t get it.

Zou Yang didn’t speak.

Liu Wenrui stared at him for a long moment before suddenly asking: “Did you… tell her?”

“I think… while I was unconscious,” Zou Yang cleared his throat, “I told her.”

“Holy fuck?” Liu Wenrui was shocked.

“What? Fuck what?” Zhang Chuanlong was getting anxious. “What are you talking about?”

“Shut up,” Li Zhiyue told him.

“Go ask around for me,” Zou Yang said.

“I’ll go right now.” Liu Wenrui turned to leave.

“Wait a bit,” Li Zhiyue grabbed him. “We’re here to see Zou Yang. Leaving after ten minutes? Isn’t that too fake?”

“Can you use your phone now?” Liu Wenrui turned back.

“Yes, but sometimes I get dizzy,” Zou Yang said. “And my hands aren’t too coordinated.”

Liu Wenrui took out his car keys and placed them by the pillow, pulling the pillowcase over them to hide them. “I’ll come back for the keys later.”

---

“Want some water?” Lü Ze stood by the bed with a cup.

Fan Jun didn’t say anything, leaning against the bed and staring out the window.

“Fan Jun!” Lü Ze raised his voice. “Water?”

“…Yeah.” Fan Jun responded, turning his head back.

Lü Ze brought the cup to his mouth. He bit the straw and took the cup with his right hand.

After taking a couple of sips, he set the cup on the tray table in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, then slowly reached out with his left hand, trying to grasp it.

He tried to squeeze.

His fingers and his entire arm trembled.

He couldn’t grip it.

Let alone pick it up, his somewhat deformed fingers couldn’t even close around the cup.

As he raised his arm, a throbbing pain shot through the gunshot wound on his left chest…

“Don’t rush it,” Lü Ze moved the cup away. “It hasn’t even been a month. It involves nerve damage, it takes time to recover.”

Fan Jun didn’t speak, just stared at his hand.

“I just went to ask the doctor,” Lü Ze said. “The hematoma in the back of your head has mostly absorbed. Your lumbar spine still requires complete bed rest… Fan Jun?”

Lü Ze’s voice sounded distant; he had to concentrate to hear it.

“Mm,” he responded again.

“The doctor scheduled a consultation for tomorrow to test the hearing in your left ear…” Lü Ze said.

“I can’t hear out of it.” Fan Jun’s voice was very low.

“I know,” Lü Ze moved to his right side. “The doctor said it might be temporary. We won’t know until it’s checked.”

Fan Jun didn’t say anything.

Shadows shifted outside the room’s door.

Lü Ze looked up, seeming a bit surprised, and patted Fan Jun’s shoulder. “It’s Zou Yang’s classmates.”

Zou Yang.

The name sent a jolt of electricity through his sluggish nerves.

He turned his head toward the door.

“Fan-ge!” Liu Wenrui pushed the door open and walked in, followed by Li Zhiyue and Zhang Chuanlong.

“Lü-ge,” Li Zhiyue greeted Lü Ze and pointed at Fan Jun. “We came to see Fan-ge.”

“Yeah,” Lü Ze nodded and stepped away from the bed. “Come over to this side to talk. He can’t hear out of his left ear right now.”

“Huh?” Liu Wenrui was stunned.

The three of them walked to the right side of the bed. Perhaps because Lü Ze was there, they suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable.

“We just came from Zou Yang’s room,” Liu Wenrui said. “He hasn’t had any updates on your… condition, so we came to check.”

Fan Jun remained silent.

Since waking up, aside from police questioning and Uncle Lü giving him one update on Zou Yang, this was the first time in nearly a month that he had clearly perceived anything related to Zou Yang.

His mind had been clouded, his body numb.

He deliberately avoided thinking about anything concerning Zou Yang, what he had dragged Zou Yang into, what he had brought upon everyone…

Fan Gang’s heavy blows landing on Zou Yang time and time again, Fan Gang’s gun aimed at him—the terror of those moments rushed back over him.

He didn’t dare to imagine what would have happened if that shot had hit Zou Yang.

When Uncle Lü told him about Zou Yang’s injuries, every word felt like an arrow piercing his body. It hurt like soaking in saltwater.

“He can’t move his left arm much right now—brachial plexus nerve damage. But luckily it’s not the worst-case scenario, it just needs time,” Lü Ze explained Fan Jun’s condition to Liu Wenrui and the others. “Not all the fragments from the lead bullet in the gunshot wound have been removed yet… A ruptured right liver and lumbar spine…”

“Don’t.” Fan Jun spoke in a low voice.

“Huh?” Liu Wenrui looked at him.

Fan Jun slowly raised his head and looked at Lü Ze. “Don’t tell him.”

Lü Ze stayed silent and didn’t continue.

“Fan-ge…” Liu Wenrui leaned closer. “Zou Yang just wants to know…”

“Tell him I’m recovering fine,” Fan Jun said. “He doesn’t need to worry.”

Liu Wenrui fell silent.

“Thank you,” Fan Jun said. “Go back.”