Ming Weiting closed the laptop and took off his headphones to get up.

The air during a rainstorm had a special kind of cool dampness. The water from the sky and the water from the sea met, blending into a misty haze with blurred boundaries, with the wind passing freely through it.

The large green leaves on the terrace reached out, catching a few raindrops, adding a fresh scent of grass and trees to the sea breeze.

Luo Chi was asleep in the lounge chair, covered with an exceptionally thick flannel blanket, one hand hanging down.

He wasn’t sleeping soundly. Sensing Ming Weiting’s approach, he opened his eyes. The hazy mist of first waking blinked away, and he accurately located the familiar figure.

Seeing Mr. Shadow as soon as he opened his eyes put Luo Chi in a good mood, and his eyes immediately curved into a smile.

Ming Weiting was lightened by his mood and also smiled, touching his forehead. “Not feeling stuffy anymore?”

“It’s much better just being able to breathe.” Luo Chi took a deep breath as he spoke. His fever had just broken not long ago, and his breathing was still not smooth. He couldn’t help but cough twice, but he still let out the breath in a long, comfortable sigh.

Seeing that he had some energy, Ming Weiting was relieved and sat down beside him, picking up Luo Chi’s hanging right hand.

Luo Chi hadn’t played the guitar for a while and his hands were itching terribly. The moment he touched the strings, he couldn’t bear to let go. He practiced by himself for a whole day without feeling tired, and even slept with the guitar at night.

His right hand still couldn’t exert much force, and his fingering was not precise. After a day, some conspicuous bloody marks had appeared on his fingertips.

Ming Weiting had never played the guitar. He estimated the hardness of the strings. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Luo Chi shook his head with a smile. “It feels very comfortable.”

He said it very seriously. Ming Weiting looked into his eyes and knew that Luo Chi genuinely thought so. He lowered his head and began applying medicine to his hand.

Ming Weiting had never done these things before. At first, he had watched the caregiver take care of Luo Chi, but at that time, Luo Chi’s consciousness was muddled. He was already intensely uneasy due to the unfamiliar environment, not to mention being held down on the bed by a group of complete strangers to have his physical ailments treated.

To prevent Luo Chi from hurting others or himself during his unconscious struggles, they had to use sedatives or restraints. Ming Weiting had seen that situation once, and he swore he would never let it happen to Luo Chi again.

At that time, Luo Chi only had an impression of Mr. Shadow, so Ming Weiting began to learn how to take care of him.

These tasks were not difficult, and Luo Chi was originally a very cooperative patient. He had been doing it for a while now and had become more and more natural and skilled, gradually making it a habit.

But now that Luo Chi was fully awake, being held by the right hand like a child while medicine was applied, his ears gradually grew hot, and his fingers couldn’t help but curl back.

Ming Weiting’s hand slipped from his fingers a few times. He raised his eyes and looked at him questioningly.

Luo Chi was uncharacteristically embarrassed. He coughed lightly and explained in a small voice, “I’ve been putting medicine on myself since I was five.”

This was very convincing. Ming Weiting paused to think, then looked towards the room.

The guitar was sleeping on the bed, covered with a blanket.

Luo Chi had slept with the guitar last night and had even specifically said “Good morning” to it this morning. When he carried Luo Chi to the terrace for some fresh air, he had also seen Luo Chi personally arrange the pillow and tuck the edges of the blanket in tightly.

Being so calmly reminded of a several-hour-old debt, Luo Chi stiffened, and his entire ear slowly burned.

Ming Weiting had already assessed the maturity of this behavior and gave an objective evaluation: “Four and a half years old.”

Luo Chi almost wanted to jump off the lounge chair and hide the evidence of his four-and-a-half-year-old self. But he really had no strength. Even a slight movement made the world spin. He could only guiltily and slowly slide down until he was under the blanket.

It was the first time Ming Weiting had seen him react like this, and he found it both novel and amusing. He took the opportunity to finish applying the medicine. He couldn’t help but raise his hand and pat Luo Chi’s hair through the blanket.

Ming Weiting sometimes thought that what he had saved from the water that day was just an empty shell.

He protected this empty shell while waiting for Luo Chi, and Luo Chi himself waded back from some cold, distant shore, filling this empty shell back up, bit by bit.

Luo Chi didn’t hide from him, so he saw many things he hadn’t understood before.

Some were novel, some were funny, some made him want to pat the other’s hair, but no matter the situation, his chest would unconsciously soften and warm up.

In the gaps of taking care of Luo Chi these past few days, Ming Weiting had taken the time to watch those videos and would also think of the ten-year-old Luo Chi.

At that time, Luo Chi had just been brought to the Ren family and already had the air of a little adult. His words and actions seemed mature for his age, and his demeanor was exceptionally steady.

…Yet he could be held with a stoop of the back, and lifted with a bit of effort.

So one couldn’t blame Auntie Ren for always wanting to hold him in her arms and knead him desperately.

Madam Ren opened the shell of maturity and stability and brought out the Luo Chi inside.

Luo Chi’s unyielding temper was probably nurtured this way—he too had had days where no matter what he did, as long as he wasn’t wrong, someone would always have his back.

Even though that period was not very long, that unwavering confidence, even after her passing, had always been protecting Luo Chi.

Ming Weiting had a secret code for whispering with him, so he also lifted the flannel blanket and asked in a low voice, “Still sleeping with the guitar tonight?”

Luo Chi was even more embarrassed, his neck also burning. “Is it convenient?”

Ming Weiting pondered, “It’s a little inconvenient.”

Luo Chi sighed reluctantly and nodded in regret.

Ming Weiting looked at him, raised a hand to cup the back of Luo Chi’s slightly cool neck, and gently kneaded it.

He had noticed before that any reasonable request Luo Chi made, even if it was disapproved of or rejected without reason, he would have no objections at all.

“You can sleep with the guitar in the future,” Ming Weiting said softly. “It’s just not convenient recently.”

He was trying, intentionally leaving the sentence half-finished. Luo Chi’s curiosity was indeed piqued. “Recently?”

Ming Weiting nodded. “It’s not convenient for the next ten days. You need to recuperate.”

Xun Zhen had tentatively scheduled the surgery for ten days later. Ming Weiting had discussed it with Ming Lu and decided to stay at the sea-view villa for these ten days to get Luo Chi’s body into the best possible condition for the surgery.

After these days of rest, Luo Chi’s physical condition was indeed much better than during the worst period, but he still couldn’t let his guard down easily.

Luo Chi himself was not very clear about what happened last night.

The rainy season by the sea was not long, but it was definitely not short either. Yesterday’s rain had lasted for most of the day, with only a few hours of clear sky in the evening. Not long after it got dark, it started raining again.

This rain was more ferocious than before. The thunder rumbled, and by night, the rain was almost pounding on the windows. Ming Weiting couldn’t sleep soundly. He got up to check on Luo Chi and, as expected, found him unwell.

With the guitar sleeping beside him on the bed, Luo Chi himself was quite peaceful. But after all, his fever had only broken in the evening. He had been bundled up in the airtight room all day. When the air pressure dropped slightly at night, he became stuffy and couldn’t breathe.

Luo Chi was in a deep sleep at night. No matter how uncomfortable he was, it was hard for him to wake up. He was just heavily oppressed by a seemingly suffocating dream and, without realizing it, was soaked in cold sweat again.

Ming Weiting sat up with Luo Chi in his arms, letting him lean against him and breathe oxygen for half an hour. Only then did Luo Chi’s condition improve slightly, but today he still couldn’t muster any energy. A slight movement would make him extremely dizzy.

“It’s more convenient to sleep with me,” Ming Weiting tried to proceed step by step, discussing with Luo Chi. “As soon as you’re uncomfortable, I’ll know.”

Ming Weiting explained honestly, “You can’t be without someone to take care of you at night.”

After he said this, he looked at Luo Chi, who had instantly widened his eyes and become motionless. “What’s wrong?”

Luo Chi had already slipped completely into the blanket. Now with nowhere left to slide, he opened his mouth, his voice even smaller, “I’ve been sleeping by myself since I was three.”

Ming Weiting looked back at the guitar.

Of course, Luo Chi knew this was the accusation of “you even slept with the guitar last night.” He wanted to explain the difference between the two in detail, but his thoughts were half a beat slow to catch up with the latter part of what the other had said.

Ming Weiting watched his expression slowly change. First, it burned hot into his collar, then he was clearly stunned. After thinking for a moment, he was obviously lost in thought.

These changes were very subtle. Luo Chi looked no different from before, but the warmth that had seemed so vibrant just now had somewhat abruptly faded.

Ming Weiting lifted the flannel blanket and re-tucked it for him, his gaze still on Luo Chi. “Huo Miao?”

Luo Chi smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing, I—”

His voice stopped. He looked at Mr. Shadow who had come around in front of him and reached out a hand to cup the back of his head.

“Huo Miao,” Ming Weiting looked at him seriously. “I said something wrong.”

Luo Chi immediately shook his head without hesitation.

His movement was slightly larger than before and immediately brought on a wave of intense dizziness. He couldn’t help but let out a muffled groan and hastily closed his eyes.

…This is a bit bad.

This is a bit bad. His body seems to be in a really bad state.

Of course, Luo Chi already knew this. Although he had thought he had only broken his leg in the past few days, there were also heaps of medicine to take, IV drips, and physical therapy. If the doctor came, he would also have to have his blood drawn for tests.

Yesterday, he had been too excited playing the guitar and hadn’t paid much attention to his discomfort. As soon as he lay down at night, the discomfort in his body and the side effects of the medicine came to settle the score. He already had a basic idea of his condition.

Luo Chi closed his eyes. He was protected by the strong support at the back of his neck, his forehead resting against Mr. Shadow’s chest. He concentrated on regulating his breathing to suppress the dizziness.

“You’ll be fine after the surgery. Xun Zhen guaranteed it.”

Ming Weiting knew he was dizzy, so he kept his voice very soft. “You’ll be very well.”

He had made this promise to Luo Chi before. Because he wasn’t sure if the current Luo Chi still remembered, he was prepared to say it many more times. “You’ll be very healthy in the future.”

What Luo Chi cared about most was not this—of course, he cared about this, but since Mr. Shadow said he would be fine, he didn’t doubt it.

Growing up, Luo Chi had been sick many times, and the number of accidental injuries was even greater than his illnesses. He knew it was uncomfortable to be sick, and he also knew he had to work hard to cooperate with treatment and recuperate. He had always believed he could recover completely.

If the patient himself doesn’t believe he can be cured, the illness will naturally fluctuate, and it will also cause a lot of trouble for the people around and the doctors in charge of treatment.

In the past, when faced with this kind of situation, he would find ways to take care of himself… but this illness seemed to be a little serious.

Physical problems, it seemed, couldn’t be solved just by working particularly hard.

It seemed he could no longer take care of himself.

Ming Weiting suddenly spoke, “Just a moment.”

Luo Chi was startled. He watched as Ming Weiting quickly returned to the room and came out with a laptop a moment later, sitting down in front of him again.

“Because I’m sick,” Ming Weiting looked at the screen, “I’m worried I’ll be a bother.”

Luo Chi was somewhat taken aback, his eyes widening slightly.

Ming Weiting operated the mouse again and continued to scroll down two pages.

“I don’t want people to worry. I don’t want people to take care of me.” He looked up at Luo Chi. “I don’t want people to have a hard time because of me.”

Luo Chi’s eyes were already a little wide.

He was wrapped in a thick flannel blanket, his chin still slightly tucked into it, completely bundled up. Staring wide-eyed and motionless like this, his expression was almost like the twelve-year-old in the video.

Ming Weiting couldn’t help but reach out and touch his hair.

The terrace could block the rain very well, but it was inevitable that some water vapor would drift in. Luo Chi had been outside for a while, and his hair was slightly damp, making it feel even softer to the touch.

Ming Weiting rested one hand on the top of his head, held the laptop with the other, and continued to look at the screen. “If only physical illnesses could also be cured just by working hard enough.”

…Auntie.

Mr. Shadow might have bought a mind-reading machine disguised as a computer.

Luo Chi’s eyes widened. The last time he had been this shocked was probably the first time he saw Auntie Ren dragging the aristocratic scion who had spoken ill of him to apologize.

“‘Stanning Notes’,” Ming Weiting finally read the document title to him. “There’s still a lot of content.”

Luo Chi did remember being on a show. But what he said on the show was nothing more than what he liked to eat and what he liked to do. Most of it was made up on the spot. It was absolutely impossible that he had said these things. “When…”

Luo Chi suddenly realized, “Truth or Dare?”

Ming Weiting nodded. “That night, there was a period when you were too sleepy to open your eyes, so we played many rounds.”

“Lucky fan,” Luo Chi slowly regained his memory, “kept turning the conch shell to himself.”

The lucky fan was very calm. “It’s because of friction.”

Luo Chi was so amused by him that he couldn’t help but purse his lips. Remembering that this was a serious issue, he tried to suppress his smile. “The force used to turn the conch is also very important. Uncle Lu said that Sir is very good at roulette.”

“I have no interest in gambling,” Mr. Ming said with equal composure. “If necessary, I will modify the props.”

Luo Chi was curious. “Was the conch shell also modified?”

Seeing him regain his spirits, Ming Weiting’s eyes also filled with a smile. He shook his head.

When Luo Chi couldn’t hear, he had to rely on lip-reading to understand what the other person was saying. He was already used to looking into Luo Chi’s eyes. He held onto the armrest of the lounge chair, lowered his shoulders slightly, and looked up at him seriously.

“I discussed it with the conch shell,” Ming Weiting said softly. “I want to take better care of this person. Please let me ask him a few more questions.”

Ming Weiting said, “Please let me understand him a little more.”

His voice was low and exceptionally gentle. He stood with his back to the misty rain and wind outside the window, gazing at Luo Chi.

Luo Chi’s smile still lingered in his eyes. He opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound.

Ming Weiting closed the laptop and set it aside.

“The lucky fan also asked,” Ming Weiting said, “If these things happened, how can Huo Miao be happy again?”

Luo Chi came back to his senses. His earlobes were burning for some reason. He also looked at Mr. Shadow solemnly and explained earnestly, “I’m already very happy now.”

“It’s just a small psychological issue of my own, a force of habit. It has no major impact,” Luo Chi promised. “I will work hard to adjust—”

Ming Weiting raised a hand and gently touched his eyelashes. “Huo Miao.”

He rarely did this when Luo Chi was awake. Luo Chi subconsciously blinked. It felt both itchy and novel. He asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

“The physical illness, and the one here.” Ming Weiting moved his hand down and pressed it against his left chest, over his soft loungewear. “Neither can be solved just by working hard.”

“You’ve already worked very, very hard.”

Ming Weiting said, “You are the most hardworking and bravest person I have ever met. You came back from the farthest depths of the sea to find me.”

Luo Chi slowly blinked his eyes.

It was as if the chest being pressed by Mr. Shadow trembled silently. His heart suddenly became disobedient and active, thumping against the other’s palm through his chest, one beat after another.

“Leave the rest to me,” Ming Weiting asked softly. “What did you dream about last night?”

Luo Chi didn’t really remember either. He tried hard to recall for a long time, but it was still not clear. “I dreamed of… the seaside.”

“Watching the sunrise,” Luo Chi said. “I accidentally fell asleep.”

He dreamed that he had accidentally fallen asleep leaning against a reef, and then he was trapped in a place where he couldn’t move. He could only listen to the people around him talking to him… He really wanted to talk to the people around him, really wanted to open his mouth, but he couldn’t make a sound.

He dreamed that he tried hard to reach out his hand, but he had no strength. The sunlight was pushed over by the waves, clearly right in front of him.

Having even been through that completely blank, dense fog, this kind of dream was really nothing.

He didn’t feel uncomfortable. He just felt relaxed in that dream, a kind of heartfelt ease and contentment that made him want to smile just thinking about it.

He watched the people around him getting better bit by bit, and this process of getting better was something he had done his utmost to achieve.

He had once come to this world and left something behind as proof.

…

Luo Chi came back to his senses.

He thought carefully for a long time, then rigorously and quickly erased and crossed out the word “once”. “I’m back.”

“I’m not done playing yet.” He imitated Auntie Ren’s way of speaking, his lips pursed. “Hey, I’m back again.”

He himself didn’t have this kind of temper at all, but he imitated Auntie Ren’s tone perfectly, making the sentence sound quite self-righteous.

Even Ming Weiting couldn’t help but smile. He touched his ear. “How are you so cool?”

This time, Luo Chi was truly and exceptionally happy.

He took a deep breath. The wind came from the sea, carrying the fresh, misty rain with the scent of grass and trees. It poured continuously into his body, making a new thought suddenly sprout in him.

He wanted to touch the rain.

He wanted to touch the things before his eyes.

No longer just watching from a distance, he wanted to touch them, wanted to remember what it felt like to be in contact with them.

Luo Chi slowly rubbed his fingers together.

He flushed from his earlobes down to his neck, but still relying on that sudden bit of self-righteousness, he moved his hand over, bit by bit, and quickly tugged on Mr. Shadow’s shirt.

Mr. Shadow had both hands on the armrests of the lounge chair and was also looking down at him seriously. Before he could pull his hand away, he firmly grasped it.

“The last one,” Luo Chi said in a small voice. “A truth.”

Luo Chi was actually very embarrassed to ask his lucky fan this kind of question, but he still steeled himself. “How… did I answer?”

Ming Weiting recalled for a moment and repeated, “If these things happened, how can Huo Miao be happy again?”

Luo Chi nodded eagerly, flushing.

He was actually already exceptionally happy, but he seemed to be easily carried away, for example, right now he was floating to no end.

Floating to the point where that seemingly distant and quite greedy thought quietly began to loosen the soil and sprout again.

“I don’t know,” Ming Weiting said.

Luo Chi was startled. “You don’t know?”

Ming Weiting nodded.

After learning all night, he had a comprehensive grasp of the game rules. “The person involved fell asleep. According to the rules, that counts as refusing to answer the truth.”

Luo Chi was immediately filled with regret. “How could the person involved be so disappointing.”

…Mr. Shadow actually nodded.

Luo Chi was so amused he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He let out a rather realistic, heavy sigh and was about to fall back into the lounge chair to sleep when a hand firmly stopped his head and neck.

“How could the person involved be so disappointing?”

Ming Weiting touched Luo Chi’s forehead. “If you don’t answer the truth, you can only do a dare.”

Luo Chi was stunned for a few seconds, his eyes slowly widening.

…A dare?

Of course, it was a dare!

Luo Chi didn’t know what he was nervous about, but his heart started to pound.

“A dare,” Ming Weiting asked softly. “Huo Miao, what do you want to say?”

Luo Chi was still looking at him.

That sentence was buried in his chest. The wind poured the fresh, cool, misty rain into his body, and so that sentence also slowly resurfaced, overflowing his throat.

On that rainy day, when he handed the painting to Mr. Shadow, what did he actually want to say?

It seemed he had failed to say it many times because he didn’t have the courage for a dare. But it didn’t matter, he could try again.

He would try to say it again.

He would say it until he was heard.

Luo Chi looked at the corner of the terrace. That spot was very close to him, just a few steps away.

Although it was raining, a small patch of cloud in the sky had been lifted by the wind.

Through the gap in the lifted cloud, golden sunlight leaked down, falling on the deep green leaves washed by the rain.

“I want to touch the rain. I haven’t touched it in a long time. There’s also a piece of the sun there. I want to touch it too. It looks very warm and bright. I think I can reach it…”

Luo Chi suddenly smiled. He took a deep breath and looked up.

“Please give me a hand.”

Luo Chi looked up. “I want to stand up.”

Ming Weiting held his shoulders. He supported Luo Chi’s shoulders and back, pulled him up from the lounge chair, and held his hand firmly.