Two people slept very well that night.

The hospital bed had been slightly adjusted, and a single bed was placed next to it.

The Ming family’s new captain was clearly interested in the large bed. His eyes lit up at the suddenly spacious area, and he took the initiative to arrange the pillows, generously inviting Mr. Ming to come lie down.

The first time Ming Lu came to check, Mr. Ming was still sitting up against the head of the bed, a computer on his lap, softly reading bedtime stories he had searched for and organized these past few days to his captain.

…

By the second time he came, Mr. Ming had already fallen asleep.

Ming Chi quietly blinked a couple of times, made a gesture, and gently took the computer, handing it to Uncle Lu to put away.

Noticing the movement beside him, Ming Weiting woke from his light sleep and instinctively tried to prop himself up. Ming Chi’s reaction was no slower. He promptly held Mr. Shadow’s hand and leaned down to speak to him softly.

Ming Lu put the computer away. As he stood up, he happened to see the new captain placing his hand on the master’s forehead, his voice light and gentle as he reported that he was super comfortable, had no abnormalities, and would absolutely report immediately if any problems arose.

Ming Weiting sat up against the head of the bed, still with his eyes open. The back of Ming Chi’s hand lightly brushed against his eyelashes.

Ming Weiting listened intently, a smile gradually appearing in his eyes as he held Ming Chi’s hand.

This was originally a gesture he used to check if Ming Chi was uncomfortable. The other had learned it, and his touch was even lighter and steadier than his own, easily reminding one of the frequent nights on the cruise ship.

Such nights were the most common when the weather at sea was good.

At night, everything quieted down. The wind chased the moon on the sea’s surface, so light that it didn’t even disturb the tide, almost imperceptible when standing on the deck.

Unless you closed your eyes.

“Close your eyes,” Ming Chi urged in a small voice. “Mr. Shadow, lie down.”

Ming Weiting nodded and did as he was told with a smile. He raised his hand to help Ming Chi lie down carefully, avoiding the wound, and then lay down himself.

The two of them lay side by side on the newly combined large bed.

Ming Weiting had been taking care of Ming Chi all these days and could accurately locate him even with his eyes closed.

He turned on his side and carefully tucked the corner of the blanket for Ming Chi. Without waiting for a reminder, he covered himself with another blanket in the exact same way and lay down quite properly.

The new captain was very satisfied and, as a reward, patted Mr. Ming’s ear.

Ming Lu made eye contact with the new captain, nodded with a smile, and returned to the cubicle to lie down with a peaceful mind.

Tonight, three people would sleep very well.

…

After that, the pace of his recovery was even faster than Ming Chi himself had predicted.

The headache and dizziness after the removal of the drainage tube were nothing compared to before. Ming Chi had completely regained his spirits by that afternoon, and his appetite was better than before. He finished a whole bowl of porridge by himself.

From then on, it became smoother day by day.

On the third day, Ming Chi began to practice walking with Mr. Shadow’s help. By the fifth day, Ming Chi could already be supported to walk a short distance in the corridor. He walked so well that the little girl who was pushed up in a wheelchair by her mother stared with wide eyes.

Ming Chi had asked the head nurse and knew that he had met the little girl before his surgery, and she had come up specially to see her big brother. At that, he had Mr. Shadow support him again and steadily walked another round.

The little girl’s symptoms were much milder than his, and she only had a slight limp before the surgery. But post-op, the headache and wound pain were inevitable, and the IV drip was extremely uncomfortable. No matter how she was coaxed these past few days, she cried and refused to get out of bed.

Before the surgery, her big brother couldn’t even stand up, but now he could actually walk better than her. The little girl was super unconvinced and couldn’t sit still in her wheelchair anymore, tugging at her mom and insisting on going back to practice immediately.

Ming Chi stood firmly in front of her, gathered his strength, and squatted down, acting super childish, “Who’s still afraid of pain now and doesn’t dare to practice walking?”

The little girl’s face flushed hot. She waved her little arms and vehemently denied it, “Nobody!”

“Nobody!” Ming Chi immediately believed her and helped her add, “We’ll go back and practice right away!”

The little girl was about to nod vigorously, but her mother caught her face in time to stop her. She then changed her habit and mimicked Ming Chi’s action of making a fist to cheer herself on.

Ming Chi smiled and lightly bumped fists with her, waving as he watched her go to the end of the corridor. Feeling the pressure on his arm, he adjusted his center of gravity, shifted some weight to his right leg, and slowly stood up.

His activity level today was a bit over-planned. When he stood up, a rare wave of dizziness washed over him, and his right leg suddenly gave way.

Before Ming Chi could react himself, an arm had already wrapped around his shoulders and back in time, helping him stand steady. “Some people.”

Ming Chi had often been unable to resist secretly adding extra practice these past few days and was quite skilled at facing criticism and self-criticism. He immediately took the opportunity to reflect, “Some people, on the surface, look twenty-three, but are actually as childish as a seven-year-old.”

“And they try to act tough, and now they can’t walk,” Ming Chi took the initiative to criticize himself. “What if I had really fainted?”

Ming Weiting held his arm steadily and carefully placed him in the wheelchair. Seeing those bright, clear eyes that were obviously unafraid and curved into a smile, he also showed a smile. “What then?”

“Option A,” Ming Chi let out a low breath after the dizziness passed. “If I faint, I faint. I’ll be fine when I wake up… It’s obviously a giveaway question.”

“It’s obviously a giveaway question.”

Before Mr. Shadow could get serious, he quickly added a comment, “How could there be such an obvious wrong answer?”

Ming Weiting reached out, wiped the thin layer of sweat from his forehead, and tapped it lightly. “Because the question-setter’s mental age is currently only seven.”

Ming Chi wasn’t sure how they used to interact, but lately, he often felt that Mr. Shadow was much more inscrutable than he had imagined. If he wasn’t careful, he would be teased into laughter.

He had insisted on walking that extra round just now, and now he had a slight side stitch. He pressed on the sore spot, suppressed his smile, and pretended not to hear, continuing, “…Option B.”

“Immediately sit down and rest, replenish sugar, and ask the people around for help.”

Ming Chi thought for a moment, “You can also call for emergency services.”

Ming Weiting had a good impression of this option. “In necessary situations, this can be chosen.”

Ming Chi hadn’t expended this much energy in days. He leaned back in the wheelchair to catch his breath and asked curiously, “What kind of situation is considered necessary?”

“A hurricane at sea,” Ming Weiting said. “The ship can’t dock, all life rafts are lost, and no rescue ships can be dispatched.”

Such a situation still might not constitute that “necessity.” Ming Weiting had been learning how to tell jokes from Teacher Xiao Huo Miao these past few days. He paused and continued to add, “Right before I was about to swim over, Uncle Lu grabbed me by the waist and held me back.”

The nearby Steward Ming couldn’t stop coughing, suppressing his laughter and refraining from interrupting, and quickly went to open the ward door.

The Ming family’s young master clearly hadn’t developed such good self-control yet. He laughed so hard he almost couldn’t sit still, took several deep breaths, and held onto the wheelchair firmly to keep from sliding down. “No way… a smooth and safe journey.”

The seven-year-old question-setter immediately added to the question’s premise, rejecting this hypothesis. “It’s better not to have this kind of necessary situation.”

Ming Weiting circled around to the front of the wheelchair and squatted down, looking up at him. One hand covered Ming Chi’s cool hand. “This question too.”

Ming Weiting took out a candy, unwrapped it, and touched it to his lips. “It’s better not to have it.”

“Just in case,” Ming Chi quickly snatched the milk candy, his voice becoming muffled. “It will definitely be less and less in the future.”

Ming Chi blinked away the sweat that had trickled into his eyelashes. Noticing that hand rising again to wipe it for him, he touched Mr. Shadow’s hand with his forehead.

He actually really liked this feeling of being tired to the point of exhaustion.

Unlike the effects of his previous illness, back then his body could hardly muster any strength. The fatigue mostly stemmed from a sense of powerlessness, and beyond the fatigue, there was more of an unplaceable emptiness.

The situation was completely different now—he wouldn’t miss a step anymore. Every step he took landed solidly on the ground. Every time he reached out and used his strength, he could firmly grasp another hand.

This feeling was so good that he would accidentally get immersed in it, always forgetting his current physical condition.

Ming Chi savored the candy, letting the milky fragrance and sweetness spread in his mouth, and finished his question, “Option C, find Mr. Shadow. If I can’t find Mr. Shadow, find Uncle Lu, and bring a wheelchair to support me.”

He had originally only thought of this one sentence. Remembering what Mr. Shadow had just said, the hand pressing on his side stitch quietly moved up and touched his chest, which seemed to be getting hot again.

The Ming family’s young master had a good memory. He gave himself a pep talk and continued to add in a small voice, “Because… when I’m not feeling well, Mr. Shadow and Uncle Lu won’t be absent.”

Ming Lu was tidying up the ward and happened to hear this sentence as he returned to the door. He decisively helped the master snatch the answer, “Choose C.”

During his rehabilitation these past few days, Ming Chi had actually been reminded of this point by both of them many times.

He had finally worked up the courage to say it out loud to coax Mr. Shadow not to be angry. He hadn’t expected Uncle Lu to be there too. Caught off guard, his eyes widened, and he slid down the wheelchair, flushed.

There was no blanket on the wheelchair this time. Ming Chi was in a dilemma, wondering whether to hide in Mr. Shadow’s shadow. Ming Weiting had already stood up and held both armrests of the wheelchair.

Ming Weiting leaned on the wheelchair with both hands, bending over so that Ming Chi could successfully hide in front of him, and looked down at him.

Ming Chi was stunned for a few seconds, then slowly blinked.

…He actually had an impression of this kind of gaze.

It was different from usual.

It wasn’t the serious scrutiny to confirm his physical condition or to judge if he was uncomfortable.

Nor was it the detailed observation every night before he went to sleep, when he would pretend to be fast asleep with steady breathing, something that was never exposed, to make Mr. Shadow believe this place was as stable as a ship.

“Option D,” Ming Weiting said softly. “Xiao Huo Miao, close your eyes.”

Ming Chi subconsciously followed his instruction.

He felt that hand cover his eyes. The overlapping obstruction left almost no light, and it was pitch black before him, but he realized he wasn’t nervous at all.

He sat in the wheelchair, his vision completely blocked. The surroundings were the empty hospital corridor, so quiet that even his heartbeat and breathing seemed to cause echoes and humming.

He could feel his body instinctively trembling. He couldn’t find the source of this tremor; it probably originated from some not-so-good past that he had completely forgotten. He had no intention of investigating or figuring it out… those things weren’t important.

Those things weren’t important. His breathing unconsciously quickened slightly, and his palms were sweating, but these were just some kind of forcedly learned reflex remaining in his body. He didn’t feel nervous.

There was nothing to be nervous about. This was a hospital, a place that made his body better.

He could come whenever he needed, and when he was well, he could leave whenever he wanted.

It was that simple.

Ming Chi’s breathing slowly became steady. He completely relaxed his body, entrusting his weight to the hand covering his eyes.

“I choose D, Mr. Shadow.”

The question-setter closed his eyes. After choosing, he remembered to ask, “What is D?”

Ming Weiting lifted him from the wheelchair.

These past few days, Ming Chi had worked hard not to worry them and was rarely so tired that he couldn’t stand. So it was only now that he could finally confirm the difference.

The body in his arms was warm, and even at this moment, it had a quiet, resilient strength. A steady stream of air brushed against his neck.

That heart, through the chest cavity, clearly knocked against his chest. It was as bright and proud as this person, happily reporting its safety to him.

Ming Weiting slowly opened his mouth, “Option D.”

“Without a wheelchair,” Ming Weiting said softly. “I’ll come support you.”

Ming Weiting raised his arm to wrap around him, covering Ming Chi’s back. He didn’t feel any cold sweat and was completely relieved. As he lowered his head, he was met with the sparkling smile in those eyes.

“That’s going to be troublesome,” Ming Chi asked with a smile. “I have a lot of places to go. Will you support me wherever I go?”

Ming Weiting had been looking through travel brochures recently. He pondered for a moment, “Are you going to Mount Everest?”

Ming Chi’s ambitions hadn’t reached that point yet. Caught off guard, his words faltered.

“Then it’s settled,” Ming Weiting held him, letting him lean on his shoulder.

Ming Weiting said, “I’ll support you wherever you go.”

…

In the next few dozen minutes, Ming Chi took some time to rehabilitate his right hand, wrote a message on a ribbon, and said goodbye to the wheelchair that had fought alongside him so intimately for so long.

Although it was a pity that he could no longer play at drifting with the electric wheelchair, there were gains for every loss—a few days later, when he went to have his stitches removed and was preparing for discharge, the head nurse helped him get the muscle strength assessment and prognosis evaluation from the rehabilitation room.

“If you were discharged a few days later, you wouldn’t have needed a prognosis assessment.”

The doctor could tell right away, “Recovering so quickly, did you do extra practice on your own?”

Ming Chi sat on the chair, thought for a moment, and was about to speak when the head nurse mercilessly exposed him, “He even ran out to walk secretly in the middle of the night.”

Ming Chi coughed lightly and had to cooperate with the confession, “It wasn’t exactly secret…”

“He practiced openly and squarely.”

The head nurse nodded, “And his family member spoils him, accompanying him no matter how far he walks.”

Ming Chi’s ears got a little hot again. He lifted the corner of his mouth and took the initiative to add, “And is responsible for pick-up and drop-off when I can’t walk.”

Of course, the head nurse was happy too. She pretended to be helpless with him and pointed a finger at him forcefully from a distance.

The doctor nodded with a smile, checked all of Ming Chi’s vitals, and finally let out a breath of complete relief.

The team had been following up until now, and fortunately, everything went smoothly. The surgery was successful, and the subsequent recovery was quite good. This young patient before them was undoubtedly one of the most worry-free they had ever encountered.

The doctor had seen this kind of situation many times. It was a good thing for a patient to be motivated to recover. As long as they didn’t overdo it to the point of injuring themselves, there would be no problem. “Pay attention to moderation, protect the wound, and you’ll get better soon.”

“Congratulations on your discharge.”

The doctor extended his hand and shook his. “Smooth sailing, and a speedy recovery.”

Ming Chi’s eyes curved. He thanked him softly and solemnly, then took the cane beside him and stood up.

He was being discharged today and didn’t have to wear a patient gown anymore, so he changed into his own clothes.

Mr. Shadow had helped him choose for half the night, and in the end, they still chose a shirt and trench coat. To protect the incision from the wind, a dark-colored soft hat was added.

The head nurse hadn’t noticed it just now, but looking closely now, she couldn’t help but praise, “Isn’t that so cool?”

As if remembering something, Ming Chi was suddenly taken aback.

He widened his eyes slightly, carefully looked at the head nurse’s gentle and kind face, then pressed his lips together and nodded lightly.

“I’ll be even cooler,” Ming Chi promised seriously. “Super cool, unbelievably cool.”

The head nurse suddenly seemed to vaguely sense something. She put down what she was holding and came over, looking carefully at his eyes.

They had seen Ming Chi’s medical records. The column for relatives was empty. During the surgery and post-operative recovery these past few days, apart from that nearly seventy-year-old steward of the Ming family, they hadn’t seen any of Ming Chi’s other elders.

The head nurse looked at the young man in front of her, didn’t ask anything more, just raised her hand and patted his shoulder.

The hand’s pressure was gentle, landing on his shoulder through the fabric of the trench coat.

Ming Chi seemed unaccustomed to such a touch, but he could already control himself well. His body only stiffened slightly before relaxing again, and he raised his gaze.

“This might be a bit forward,” the head nurse began in a warm voice, “at our age, we have an intuition that’s hard to explain… You know, a mother’s feelings are actually all pretty much the same, so what I say is definitely accurate.”

The head nurse looked at him seriously. “Your elder would be very proud to see you now.”

Ming Chi stood where he was. His eyes flashed lightly, then suddenly lit up with an exceptional quietness.

He bowed seriously to the head nurse. “Thank you.”

“Good child,” the head nurse smiled. “Go live your life.”

A smile also flowed from Ming Chi’s eyes. He slowly gripped the cane, thanked the doctors and nurses in the office again, and then walked out the door.

Mr. Shadow and Uncle Lu were waiting at the hospital entrance.

This was what they had agreed on early on. He would walk out of the hospital on his own, meet them, and then they would go home together.

Ming Chi hadn’t walked far down the corridor when he was stopped by the bouncing little girl, who quickly stood on her tiptoes and stuffed something into his trench coat pocket.

“Big brother is better!” The little girl could already run and circled around him, super proud. She had rehearsed this with her mom and dad downstairs many times and fluently recited the words the nurse auntie had taught her, “Peace and safety, and a long life!”

Ming Chi put his hand in his trench coat pocket and took out what was inside to look at it.

It was a good luck charm. It felt good in his hand, as if it were hand-sewn, the stitches in the soft fabric very dense.

Ming Chi held the good luck charm and saw the little girl’s parents behind her, smiling and nodding at him.

He bent down, bumped fists with the little girl, and promised softly, “We both will be.”

“Peace and safety,” Ming Chi said. “And a long life.”

The hospital corridor wasn’t short, but the lively, crisp sound of a child’s voice surrounded him, and the little girl’s parents chatted with him warmly with smiles. Looking back, he could still see the head nurse at the office door, waving at him from a distance.

“Why didn’t your family come to pick you up?” the little girl’s father asked. “Do you need help with a ride?”

Ming Chi smiled and thanked him, shaking his head. “They’re right at the door.”

“It’s such a long way. It would be safer to use a wheelchair next time.”

The little girl’s mother roughly knew about his condition and advised him with concern, “Your health is important.”

Ming Chi still smiled and shook his head. “It’s alright.”

He slowly walked to the hospital entrance and, as expected, saw the figure waiting there at a glance. The moment he was seen, the other person had already started walking quickly toward him.

Uncle Lu waited outside the door, waved with a grin, and went around to the side to open the car door.

Ming Chi’s eyes lit up. He curved his eyes and immediately reported to Mr. Shadow, “The report says one month at most.”

Ming Weiting nodded and took note. He thanked the family who had walked out with Ming Chi, then took the cane from Ming Chi’s hand and held his hand.

He was led out of the hospital by him.

It was a long way, and his right leg was indeed a little sore. He couldn’t walk fast, but it didn’t matter.

At this rate, in about another month, he would be able to regain basic walking ability.

As for before he fully recovered, if he occasionally accidentally walked too far and couldn’t walk back on his own, it was completely fine.

Someone had just taught him a new spell.

When he couldn’t walk, he would just stop, close his eyes, and say “Mr. Shadow” three times.

Someone would come to carry him, to any place he wanted to go, except for Mount Everest.