Nightmare

The recording studio fell silent. Ying Huai looked composed, while a flash of disbelief crossed Su Xin's face.

"What did you say?"

Su Xin took a step back, gritting his teeth. "That's impossible—"

Ying Huai said nothing. He looked down at Su Xin's Anonymous Music Forum ID on his phone, seeming to recall something, his expression gaining a thoughtful quality.

He unhurriedly walked to the piano nearby and sat down, casually playing a short melody.

Su Xin's voice cut off abruptly.

—This short melody was exactly the accompaniment demo that person on the forum had sent him before.

Su Xin's expression stiffened.

Ying Huai said nothing, raised his head, and looked at Su Xin with a half-smile.

Su Xin stared hard at Ying Huai for a few seconds, then suddenly said: "So why did Shidi Ying invite me here?"

"Was it to deliberately lure me out with this melody, and then make a fool of me..."

"Shixiong is overthinking it."

Before Su Xin could finish, he suddenly heard Ying Huai slowly laugh: "Wasn't it Shixiong who first actively requested to collaborate on a recording with me?"

Su Xin's expression stiffened again.

Ying Huai watched Su Xin with interest for a few seconds, then spoke again: "Besides, how would I know that the person insisting on recording with me was actually my Shixiong?"

Su Xin's face alternated between pale and ashen.

He abruptly turned around and strode toward the door.

Ying Huai wasn't in any hurry. He slowly turned back around, his fingertips moving slightly, and began playing the rest of the melody.

Su Xin's hand at his side suddenly clenched, and his footsteps uncontrollably slowed bit by bit.

Composition requires a very personal sense of musical perception.

Beyond the most basic note timbre design, rhythm and harmony arrangement, interval handling, and so on, each person has their own rhythmic character—seeing a passage of notes, their mind automatically plays back the emotional color of it.

It's like each person's unique stylistic qi cheng zhuan he—introduction, development, turn, and conclusion.

—No amount of music theory foundation can simulate or imitate this.

Ying Huai's compositions lean toward clear and gentle. Su Xin had analyzed them carefully—though they were all the most basic chord combinations, somehow between the rises and falls they came across as bright yet languid.

—This was precisely what had struck Su Xin most when he first heard this piece.

He had looked into the composition's background—it was a Charity Song written about the daily lives of visually impaired people. Su Xin had originally expected the overall tone to be either the common kind of lyrical and moving, or uplifting and grand.

But he had never expected it to be a piece leaning toward a Chill style.

Every short loop seemed like a tiny story on the verge of being told.

When the piece ended, Su Xin still stood in place without moving.

He stood there in a daze, then after a long while suddenly turned and walked back.

Ying Huai lifted his hands from the piano, coughed lightly behind his hand, and looked up to see Su Xin, as expected, standing before him once again.

Ying Huai's eyes flickered slightly.

He looked up and saw Su Xin before him with lowered eyes, his gaze full of complexity.

After a long moment, Su Xin finally said quietly: "This piece is very good."

Ying Huai had no particular reaction, only the corners of his peach-blossom eyes curving slightly. "Thank you, Shixiong."

Su Xin clenched his teeth.

He had already achieved some success in music now, but in the past year had rarely produced new compositions.

It wasn't that he couldn't write—he could, but no matter what he wrote, Su Xin was never satisfied.

Friends who had heard his new pieces thought each one was excellent and would surely be a hit if released, but Su Xin always felt those tracks weren't truly what he wanted.

—But Su Xin wasn't sure what he actually wanted either.

This was different from the creative blocks he'd experienced before. It wasn't that he lacked sufficient compositional technique—on the contrary, he possessed a mature set of skills, yet increasingly felt he no longer knew how to compose.

—Until that day when he heard Ying Huai's short demo, and felt a long-absent excitement in his heart, even a strange familiar stirring.

Su Xin didn't know why, but that day, for the first time in a month, he finally walked into his own recording studio again.

Su Xin closed his eyes briefly.

He suddenly looked at Ying Huai and said quietly: "I've won the three highest honors in the music industry; my self-composed track once broke the record on a major domestic music platform and took the annual chart; I've also won Composer of the Year..."

Ying Huai was momentarily taken aback.

He listened as Su Xin, as if introducing himself, blankly listed all his awards from beginning to end, and finally couldn't help asking: "What exactly is Shixiong trying to say?"

Su Xin's expression stiffened for a moment.

He took a deep breath and said slowly, word by word: "I hope to continue collaborating with Shidi on this piece."

Ying Huai narrowed his eyes slightly.

He didn't refuse directly, but asked softly: "Why?"

Su Xin closed his eyes briefly. "My attitude just now was wrong, but my abilities are sufficient, and I have mature ideas about the composition. I hope Shidi will reconsider..."

Before he could finish, he heard Ying Huai laugh lightly and gently cut him off: "No."

Su Xin was startled.

He instinctively asked: "Why?"

Ying Huai yawned, answering a question with a question: "Why does Shixiong want to collaborate with me?"

Su Xin didn't understand why Ying Huai was asking again.

He frowned: "Didn't I just say—"

Before he could finish, Ying Huai lazily cut him off directly: "I don't have a reason either. This is my piece, and I don't want to."

He looked up and curved his eyes at Su Xin.

"Shixiong should head back."

Su Xin's expression stiffened.

He slowly turned around, took two steps back, then suddenly turned around again.

"I really like this piece."

Ying Huai's peach-blossom eyes flickered, and he slowly raised his head.

Su Xin took a deep breath.

He didn't know why he was doing this. Perhaps it was the familiarity and excitement the piece brought him, or perhaps the strange memory surfacing in his mind was at work—he was unwilling to give up no matter what.

—Just like their Debut Track from before.

"If Shidi is willing to collaborate with me, I hope I can add some unique color to this piece."

Su Xin said quietly: "I really... like this piece."

He waited for Ying Huai to refuse again, but unexpectedly the person before him stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly said with a smile: "Alright."

Su Xin opened his eyes in disbelief.

He instinctively wanted to ask why again, but remembering Ying Huai's earlier answer, forcibly held back.

Ying Huai curved his eyes at him, turned and walked back to the piano, then suddenly thought of something and curiously looked up: "So what was the point of that resume-like speech Shixiong gave at the beginning?"

Su Xin, who had originally meant to demonstrate his abilities to Ying Huai, was silent for two seconds: "Nothing, just letting little Shidi know I've won a lot of awards."

Ying Huai was momentarily stunned, and said somewhat blankly: "But the awards Shixiong has won, I've won them all too."

—Even earlier and more than Su Xin.

Realizing this belatedly, Su Xin's expression stiffened for several seconds.

"Nothing," he took a deep breath and said indifferently, "I just wanted to recite my resume."

Ying Huai: ........?

·

Su Xin's professional abilities were indeed solid—many of Ying Huai's requirements for timbre and emotion were grasped at a hint, and the desired effect was quickly achieved.

Su Xin also gradually discovered that Ying Huai's control over the entire piece and the direction of its musical color was extremely precise and clear.

He sat there lazily, half-propping his chin, eyes slightly closed, as if not really listening.

But every time Su Xin had the slightest question about something, Ying Huai could immediately pick it out and quickly help him adjust.

When the recording was finished, the sky had already gone completely dark.

"Thanks for your hard work, Shixiong."

Ying Huai took off his headphones, stood up leaning on the mixing console, coughed behind his hand, and said with a smile: "Let's call it a day here."

Su Xin said nothing.

He silently walked out of the recording booth, stood behind Ying Huai, hesitated for a few seconds, and didn't move.

Ying Huai recovered from the dizzy spell that came with standing up, exhaled softly, turned to walk into the recording booth, and upon seeing the person behind him, a perfectly timed look of surprise crossed his face.

"Isn't Shixiong off work yet?"

Su Xin hesitated for a few seconds, then said quietly: "I want to hear the part you recorded."

Ying Huai's peach-blossom eyes flickered slightly.

He didn't refuse, but laughed instead: "Alright."

"Then I'll have to trouble Shixiong to help me check it once more."

·

Ying Huai's singing voice was somewhat different from his usual speaking tone.

Su Xin's voice tended toward the slow and steady, while Ying Huai's tone gave a clear and warm feeling, paired with just the right touch of languor, perfectly balancing Su Xin's voice to an ideal point.

—This made Su Xin uncontrollably think once again of their Debut Track from before.

Su Xin silently watched the person in the recording booth, a growing complexity gradually appearing in his expression.

Ying Huai quickly finished recording his part.

He took off his headphones, subtly pressed his chest, and exhaled softly.

He had originally expected to finish in half a day, but hadn't expected Su Xin's voice to actually give him some inspiration. Ying Huai adjusted part of the piece again, and back and forth it consumed nearly a full day.

He was a bit dizzy, so he slowly walked out of the recording booth supporting himself against the wall, wanting to rest for a moment.

He hadn't expected the light inside the recording booth to be much brighter than outside. Ying Huai's vision went black uncontrollably, and he hurriedly reached out to grab the nearby wall, but his hand grasped only empty air.

His heart panicked for a moment, and the next second, he was caught by someone in a fluster.

"What's wrong with you?" Su Xin looked at the pale-faced person before him, forcibly suppressing the momentary panic. "Where do you feel unwell?"

Ying Huai couldn't speak for a moment.

Recording was still too taxing on his energy—Ying Huai had somewhat overestimated his own body after all.

He pressed hard against his brow, and after a long while finally recovered from that spell of dizziness.

"It's nothing... probably past mealtime, a bit of low blood sugar."

Ying Huai pushed away Su Xin's hand and sat back down at the mixing console.

He glanced at the message from Liang Shining displayed on his phone screen beside him, and guiltily flipped the phone over.

Su Xin frowned.

He always felt that Ying Huai's condition just now was more than just low blood sugar, but Ying Huai's reaction clearly showed he didn't want to say more.

A vague displeasure rose in Su Xin's heart, but he forcibly ignored it.

Ying Huai also didn't notice Su Xin's abnormality.

He lowered his eyes, slowly massaging his brow with one hand, half-propping himself at the mixing console as he listened to the complete demo recorded today.

"No major issues, there are some parts to revise later, wait for me... *cough*... wait until my next recording session."

When the piece finished playing, Ying Huai silently breathed a sigh of relief.

The next second, he suddenly heard Su Xin's slightly cold voice from behind: "Since little Shidi can create such a good piece—"

"Why did you still snatch away our Debut Track back then?"

Ying Huai was startled.

He turned around and saw Su Xin standing not far away, his face dark.

Ying Huai's peach-blossom eyes flickered.

He quietly stared at Su Xin for a few seconds, then suddenly curved his lips: "Why does Shixiong always say I snatched your Debut Track?"

"How is it not ours?" Su Xin gritted his teeth.

"That Debut Track was originally chosen by the company for all of us. You took it for yourself—"

Su Xin had always believed that if that Debut Track were still theirs, the rest of them could still have debuted together, wouldn't have scattered and separated, and wouldn't have gone through such a long period of being down and out.

Su Xin suddenly thought of something else as he spoke, and let out a cold laugh: "Speaking of which, Shidi's style in this piece is somewhat similar to the Debut Track. I'm afraid you're not trying to ride on the wave of its initial popularity..."

Before he could finish, a strange memory surfaced again in his mind. Su Xin pressed his brow and let out a low groan.

That was one month after Su Xin refused Ying Huai's collaboration in the previous memory.

He had just had an unexpected opportunity to collaborate with that famous industry composer, and had gained some recognition with that self-composed piece, but then hit a long period of creative block.

Fans were lost, and no matter what, Su Xin couldn't write a piece he was satisfied with.

He simply gave up struggling like he was going through the motions, no longer going to the studio, only occasionally taking on composition work on the Anonymous Music Forum, getting by however he could.

Until one day, a composer who had long retired from the industry suddenly found him, saying he had heard one of his compositions, was very impressed, and hoped he could come learn from him.

Su Xin didn't know how this composer had found him, and only instinctively assumed he had heard one of his pieces on the music forum.

He studied under this composer for a long time, finally broke through the block, and gradually built his reputation, but never developed his own style.

Until much later, when Su Xin one day jokingly thanked the composer for picking him up from the forum, he saw a confused expression on the composer's face.

[What music forum?]

Su Xin was also stunned: [Then how did you know me...]

That composer instantly understood something, but slowly smiled.

[This is a secret. When there's a chance, I'll tell you.]

Su Xin was somewhat bewildered, but didn't press further.

He quickly finished recording today's song in the studio, and as he was leaving, he suddenly heard the composer repeatedly listening to a short demo.

Su Xin was immediately drawn to the catchy and novel composition in this demo.

The style was somewhat familiar. Su Xin stood behind the composer and listened again, unable to help asking: [Is this the next piece you're planning to release?]

[No, this is my disciple... *cough*, a melody a friend of mine casually composed when visiting my home.]

Su Xin was startled.

That composer was nearly sixty years old, but his usual temperament was like an old mischievous child. He said with a smile: [It sounds good, right? I think so too. I've always wanted him to hurry up and finish it into a song.]

[Unfortunately, he's lazy by nature, often casually jotting down inspirations and then casually leaving them there. I don't know when he'll actually compose it into a full piece. I like this part so much that I saved it for him, and every time he comes I urge him to fill it in.]

Su Xin couldn't help saying: [But this demo is really excellent. If properly composed, it would definitely be a hit. Isn't it a waste to leave it here...]

That composer laughed: [Waste? That person has plenty of fun inspirations.]

[And the happiest moment in composition is when inspiration suddenly strikes you.] That composer looked at Su Xin and said slowly.

[No matter whether it ultimately becomes a hit or not, as long as you can record that moment of happiness, it's not a waste.]

Su Xin's expression froze for a moment.

[Everyone has their own unique character—you have to truly dig it out.]

[You haven't developed your own style yet, Su Xin.]

Su Xin was silent.

He listened as that composer listened to the melody again with great interest, and sighed softly: [When there's a chance, I'll definitely let you meet him. You'll definitely be grateful to him.]

·

Su Xin pressed hard against his brow, his expression blank and pained.

The memory that had strangely surfaced in his mind didn't match his actual memories.

Su Xin had indeed been studying under this retired composer all along, but he didn't remember ever hearing this demo, nor did he remember having such a conversation with his teacher.

The time of this conversation with the teacher in the memory that surfaced was exactly when he had recently chosen to go on a Variety Show—Su Xin hadn't gone to his teacher's house at all during that period.

It was only after the memory fragments that had strangely surfaced in his mind just now that Su Xin vaguely understood something.

—Those tracks were all written by him to cater to the market, not written when he truly caught his own inspiration.

Not what he truly liked, nor his own unique style.

The styles of the three tracks kept circling in Su Xin's mind. He belatedly realized something and suddenly raised his head.

'That Debut Track, was it you, little shidi...'

Ying Huai couldn't quite hear what Su Xin was saying.

The recording studio's lights were making him dizzy, even causing some physiological nausea.

Ying Huai propped himself up, reaching for the water cup beside him, but the moment he stood up, his vision went black again.

Ying Huai's body stiffened.

He groped for the chair behind him, trying to sit back down, but the moment he bent over, a wave of dizziness crashed over him.

Ying Huai inwardly cursed—things were bad—but his body's weakness left him unable to resist.

Ying Huai only heard Su Xin's slightly panicked voice from beside him, and the next moment, he lost consciousness entirely.

Ying Huai felt he had only blacked out for a few seconds.

But when he regained consciousness, he found himself already steadily propped up on the sofa beside him.

The recording studio was empty. Ying Huai propped himself up on the sofa, slowly sat straighter, looked around, and silently exhaled.

—Su Xin not letting him fall straight to the ground was already beyond his expectations.

Ying Huai reached for the water cup beside him, but the next second, he heard a slightly angry voice from the doorway.

'What are you doing?'

Ying Huai was startled.

For a moment he thought Liang Shining had come over, and instinctively withdrew his hand, but the next second, Su Xin walked in with a dark expression.

Ying Huai froze, a flash of imperceptible disappointment crossing his eyes.

The next moment, he raised his head and bent over to smile at Su Xin: 'Shixiong hasn't left yet? Is there something...'

Before he could finish, a cup of hot water was suddenly pressed into his hand.

Ying Huai was startled. He raised his head and saw an imperceptible awkwardness in Su Xin's expression.

'I saw the water in your cup had gone cold, so I poured you some hot water.'

Ying Huai didn't speak. He stared at Su Xin oddly for a few seconds, then lowered his eyes to the cup in his hand.

'Shixiong didn't poison the cup, did you?'

Su Xin was startled, instantly angry: 'How could I—'

Ying Huai didn't speak. He reached out and rubbed the cup wall, and a few white granules immediately stuck to his fingertips.

Su Xin's expression stiffened for a moment.

The next second, he turned his eyes away unnaturally and said quietly: '...That's white sugar.'

Ying Huai was startled, he hadn't heard clearly for a moment: 'What?'

'Didn't you just say you had low blood sugar?' Su Xin took a deep breath. 'So I asked the studio people for some white sugar.'

Ying Huai's peach blossom eyes flickered.

He lowered his eyes, and after a long moment, said softly: 'What is Shixiong doing?'

Su Xin didn't answer.

Ying Huai took a deep breath.

He reached out to put the hot water on the table beside him, when he suddenly heard Su Xin say quietly, without warning.

'That Debut Track—was it you who wrote it?'

Ying Huai's body seemed to tremble slightly. He kept his eyes lowered, and after a long moment said quietly: 'How did Shixiong know?'

Su Xin became more certain of his guess.

'The style and musical colors of the Debut Track are very similar to the one just now,' Su Xin said in a trembling voice, 'and also—'

Ying Huai raised his head suspiciously. Su Xin paused, swallowing the demo from his memory back down.

'And besides, when I debuted, the company didn't have money to pick good songs for me. The price of a song of the Debut Track's quality was something the company could never have afforded.'

Su Xin thought of what he had just said to Ying Huai, his face uncontrollably flushing hot: 'Why didn't you tell me earlier, shidi? What exactly...'

He stepped back: 'No, wait, did you deliberately want to make me feel guilty...'

Before he could finish, he saw the person in front of him raise his head and smile, eyes curving: 'Yes.'

Su Xin was stunned: 'What?'

Ying Huai didn't want to answer any more.

He glanced at the doorway, seeming to see something, his peach blossom eyes curving for a moment, then suddenly propped himself up on the sofa, trying to stand.

Su Xin instinctively reached out to stop him, and the distance between them closed in an instant.

The next second, a slightly deep voice came from the doorway: 'What are you doing?'

Liang Shining strode forward, directly reaching out to wrap an arm around Ying Huai's waist, shielding him in his embrace.

Su Xin's expression froze, and Ying Huai hadn't expected this development either—his ear tips quickly reddened.

Only Liang Shining seemed oblivious.

He anxiously turned to check Ying Huai's condition, saying quietly: 'Did he do something to you just now? Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Shifu?'

A faint blush uncontrollably rose on Ying Huai's pale face. He shook his head and said through gritted teeth: 'Let go of me first, Liang Shining—'

But Liang Shining looked at the unnatural faint blush on Ying Huai's face, his expression growing more suspicious.

His gaze fell on the water cup in Ying Huai's hand, and something seemed to occur to him—the anger in his voice instantly became uncontrollable.

Liang Shining suddenly raised his head to look at Su Xin: 'Did you drug him?'

Su Xin, who had experienced being accused of poisoning and drugging in one day: ???

Ying Huai: ........

·

'How was I supposed to know that was just a cup of sugar water.'

On the way back, Liang Shining sat in the driver's seat, slightly turning his head: 'I noticed Shifu's complexion was off earlier...'

Before he could finish, his brow was tapped—not too lightly, not too heavily: 'Watch the road, don't look at me.'

Ying Huai lazily withdrew his hand.

The next second, he heard Liang Shining say aggrievedly: 'It's a red light, Shifu.'

Ying Huai's movements paused, and he casually said 'Ah.'

Liang Shining openly turned his head back.

He stared at Ying Huai. The flush on Ying Huai's face hadn't faded, and the flickering lights cast on his face gave him a rare gentle warmth.

Liang Shining stared at the faint blush on Ying Huai's face.

Thinking about the scene he had just walked in on, he said oddly: 'Shifu's in a good mood?'

'Mm.' Ying Huai yawned.

Liang Shining's expression darkened further: 'Shifu spent the entire day with Su Xin today?'

Ying Huai was startled, and nodded somewhat puzzled: 'What about it?'

Thinking of Liang Shining's anxious expression earlier, he thought of something and said soothingly: 'Su Xin's performance was okay today, the recording went well, and...there was also a pleasant surprise.'

The moment his words fell, he saw Liang Shining's expression darken even more.

'A pleasant surprise?'

Ying Huai was somewhat at a loss: 'Yes.'

The Debut Track matter was indeed a pleasant surprise.

He had originally not known that the person coming today was Su Xin, but after discovering this, Ying Huai suddenly had this idea.

The Debut Track and this Charity Song had a small section with similar structural progression (introduction-development-turn-conclusion). Ying Huai had originally thought it would take a few more times for Su Xin to realize this, but hadn't expected to succeed today in one go.

Ying Huai thought of Su Xin's flustered and guilty expression at the end, and curved his lips in good spirits.

But Liang Shining clearly misunderstood Ying Huai's thoughts.

He thought it over and felt that the only thing that could be called a pleasant surprise was the sudden 'collaboration' with Su Xin.

'Collaborating with Su Xin makes Shifu this happy,' Liang Shining said with a slightly sour tone, 'I can record with Shifu too, why won't Shifu let me...'

Before he could finish, he suddenly felt a sharp pain between his brows—another flick to the forehead.

'What nonsense are you spouting?' Ying Huai withdrew his hand, caught between laughter and tears.

—The reason he had agreed to collaborate with Su Xin today was to let him know about the Debut Track matter.

'Then why is Shifu in such a good mood?' Liang Shining stubbornly turned his head again.

Ying Huai paused, then replied casually: 'I'm happy because this song finally has some progress.'

Liang Shining's expression carried some suspicion.

He opened his mouth to say something, but saw Ying Huai half-smilingly curl his fingers again.

'I didn't say you can't record,' Ying Huai said, seeing Liang Shining's slightly hurt expression and finally softening. 'I've already figured out your part, it just hasn't been time yet.'

Liang Shining was startled.

He turned his head and saw Ying Huai raise his hand, gently patting him on the head.

Liang Shining was startled. He raised his head and saw a faint light flash in Ying Huai's eyes. 'Don't worry, it'll definitely be the Killing Part.'

·

By the time they finally got home, Liang Shining's expression had completely returned to normal.

Ying Huai looked with some amusement at the person in front of him whose mood had clearly shifted from cloudy to sunny, truly not understanding what he had been struggling with earlier.

'I want sugar water, Liang Shining.' Ying Huai sat cross-legged on the sofa, smiling and curving his eyes at Liang Shining.

'Didn't Su Xin just pour some for Shifu?' Liang Shining's voice came with some imperceptible jealousy.

Though he said this, he still stopped his cooking and turned to pour water for Ying Huai.

'I didn't drink it,' Ying Huai didn't catch the undercurrent, and just said lazily, 'I only like what Mr. Liang makes.'

He had said it casually, but the next second, he saw Liang Shining directly switch to a different cup and unhesitatingly bring him a large cup of water.

Ying Huai was for a moment caught between laughter and tears.

He felt his whole body too lazy to lift any energy, hugging the fat Bouquet and curling up on the sofa, raising his head with a smile: 'Feed me.'

Liang Shining paused.

He slowly walked over, bringing the cup to Ying Huai's lips, but the next second, he saw the person in front of him slightly straighten up and directly bring his lips forward.

Liang Shining's breath hitched for a moment.

The living room lights were dim. Ying Huai seemed unable to see clearly, and dizzyingly leaned forward—the first thing his lips touched was Liang Shining's fingers.

The slightly cool sensation spread from his fingertips through his whole body. The startled fat Bouquet let out a 'meow' and jumped out of Ying Huai's arms.

Liang Shining seemed to be electrocuted, suddenly withdrawing his hand, his voice hoarse: 'Shifu.'

The person in front of him clearly hadn't reacted.

He lightly said 'Ai,' his body swayed, and he fell forward.

Liang Shining hurriedly half-knelt, catching the person in an instant embrace.

'Shifu, you...'

But before he could finish, his brow suddenly furrowed: 'Shifu, you're running a fever.'

The person already feverish and dizzy clearly didn't understand what Liang Shining was anxious about.

'I'm not running a fever,' Ying Huai lay on Liang Shining's shoulder.

Liang Shining's feelings were momentarily complicated.

—No wonder Ying Huai's flush hadn't faded the whole way—turns out he was nearly cooked through with fever.

Liang Shining silently sighed.

He reached out to pick the person up, but felt the person on his shoulder cough twice softly, then suddenly turn his head, lean close to his ear, and whisper: 'If you don't take me back to bed, I'll tell you what the other...happy thing from earlier was.'

Liang Shining was startled.

He turned his eyes, but the person in front of him had already fallen asleep.

·

Ying Huai sat on the bed, weakly lying on Liang Shining's shoulder, reaching out to tug at the clothes on his chest.

The lazy dizziness from earlier had receded, leaving only an aching numbness between his bones.

Ying Huai only felt chaotic color blocks spinning before his eyes. He frowned with some difficulty, reached out to grip Liang Shining's clothes, and coughed weakly.

The next second, he felt himself being lifted entirely, a reassuring familiar scent instantly wrapping around him. Ying Huai's body softened, and he finally relaxed bit by bit.

·

But this peace couldn't last long.

Ying Huai easily fell into layer upon layer of nightmares when he had a fever. Song Si Lan looked at the person breathing rapidly on Liang Shining's shoulder, and was at a rare loss.

'If he doesn't wake up, I don't dare switch to stronger fever-reducing medicine, but if we force him awake, his heart might not handle it,' Song Si Lan took a deep breath. 'How about giving him a sedative injection? Though it will affect his body, it's still better than...'

Before he could finish, he suddenly saw Liang Shining shift the person in his arms to a different position.

As if soothing a child, he held the person in his arms, his body moving slightly, casually patting his back again and again.

The pain between Ying Huai's brows seemed to ease slightly, but Song Si Lan's expression remained grave. 'This won't work—if he keeps having nightmares, his heart might not take it. I still need to...'

Before he could finish, he suddenly saw Ying Huai softly 'hmph,' his eyelids weakly lifting.

Song Si Lan, who had already taken out the sedative: ........

—He instantly felt he was somewhat redundant.

Song Si Lan quickly switched to another fever-reducing medicine and turned to walk directly toward the door.

'Liang Shining...' Ying Huai's vision swam with dizziness.

He frowned and said quietly: 'My head is so dizzy.'

'Mm, I know,' Liang Shining reached out to massage his temples again and again. 'Shifu don't sleep, close your eyes, I'll massage them for you.'

Ying Huai's whole body couldn't muster any energy.

He didn't like this feeling, but couldn't escape it. After enduring for a while, he finally said with some imperceptible sob in his voice: 'My head is so dizzy, I want to sleep.'

The medicine would take a while to take effect. Liang Shining coaxed the person softly: 'Talk with Shifu a little longer.'

'Tell Shifu what...you were so happy about today?' Liang Shining said softly.

He felt the person in his arms move slightly, followed by a murmur: 'Happy...that you came to pick me up.'

Liang Shining's heart trembled uncontrollably.

He watched the person in front of him finally unable to hold on, seeming about to fall back into a heavy nightmare, and suddenly leaned down, reaching out to gently kiss Ying Huai's pale fingertips.

Ying Huai's body trembled slightly, his consciousness seeming to return for a moment, and he drowsily opened his eyes.

'Liang Shining...'

Ying Huai weakly exhaled a breath carrying heat.

'Mm.' Liang Shining said softly.

He touched Ying Huai's forehead—the fever had gone down a bit. 'It's okay, sleep, I'll watch over you.'

Liang Shining slowly stroked Ying Huai's fingertips: 'If you have nightmares, I'll wake you.'

Ying Huai's lips curved slightly.

He seemed to want to say something, but his drowsy consciousness couldn't hold on.

The next second, Liang Shining felt a weight in his hand—Ying Huai's wrist fell limply, lightly landing in his palm.

Liang Shining sat quietly at the bedside.

He stared at the warm, soft, powerless fingers in his hand, slowly leaning down, when he suddenly heard a voice from behind him, gentle but carrying some anger.

'Xiao Ning, what are you...doing?'

Ying Qi, who had just returned home, stood at the doorway.

From his angle, he only saw Liang Shining slowly leaning toward his younger brother, seeming to want to...kiss him.