Chapter 32 Part 1

The bathrobe was wide open, exposing Lu Wen's body from his neck to his ankles directly to Qu Yanting. If a waiter had passed by, they would definitely have thought he was a pervert.

Or, that the two of them were fooling around.

Lu Wen quickly pulled the front of his robe together. His mind was buzzing, completely stunned, and he looked down to confirm he was wearing underwear.

His face flushed purple, his eyes widening in a glare. "What are you doing!"

Qu Yanting curled his offending fingers and mumbled, "Sorry." His gaze lingered on Lu Wen's chest, then roamed downward, peering at the covered waist and abdomen.

"What are you looking at!" Lu Wen overlapped the flaps of his robe high up, wishing he could cover even his Adam's apple, pulled the belt tight, and tied two firm dead knots.

Suddenly, Qu Yanting asked, "Doesn't it hurt?"

Lu Wen paused. His body did indeed hurt a little, but he hadn't paid it any mind, only mentioning it in passing when he spoke with Lu Zhanqing.

Qu Yanting had just seen it. Lu Wen had a bruise on his chest, and it seemed there were more on his waist, abdomen, thighs, and knees. The true disaster area was probably his unseen back.

The marks were from the tight wire-work safety harness, as well as from being repeatedly thrown and rolled.

Lu Wen moved his shoulders, and the muscles in his chest and back pulled with a dull, aching pain. There was nothing he could do about it except endure the night.

Qu Yanting told Lu Wen to wait a moment.

He went to rummage through his suitcase and brought out a bottle of medicinal wine and a few boxes of medicinal plasters, his essentials when traveling for work. There were plasters for pain relief and others for invigorating blood circulation and dispelling bruises, and he briefly explained them to Lu Wen.

Lu Wen had received too much of a shock tonight; his spirit was weary, and he responded in a daze.

Qu Yanting asked patiently, "Do you understand how to apply them?"

Lu Wen's brow furrowed. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

"..." On account of Lu Wen having "rescued" him during his high fever, Qu Yanting said, "You can't reach your back. Do you need help?"

Lu Wen's frown deepened, his brows knitted with the full vigilance of a decent man. He snatched the items away like a stubborn donkey. "No need. My arms are long enough to reach."

The two doors closed.

Qu Yanting, not yet fully recovered from his minor illness, went to sleep.

After the fiasco, Lu Wen, who had taken the pile of plasters for nothing, found them colorful and more complicated than a female celebrity's face masks. He opened two boxes and applied them in front of the mirror.

The dead knots on his belt wouldn't come undone. He was wasteful and impatient, so he snipped it off with scissors. He stuck the plasters wherever it hurt, covering himself like a scrapbook and reeking of a strong medicinal scent.

Lu Wen turned off the light and got into bed, clutching the blanket to his chest to muffle his thumping heartbeat in a futile attempt to deceive himself.

The next day, on a morning with faint sunlight, Lu Wen turned off his phone's alarm.

He unlocked his phone, his index finger hovering over the screen. He buried his face in his pillow, took a deep breath, and then mustered the courage to open his text messages.

All night, he hadn't received a single text from Qu Yanting.

He backed out. 'Who even sends texts anymore, it's so old-fashioned.' He opened WeChat—Contacts—New Friends. The screen was peaceful; there was no friend request from Qu Yanting either.

Lu Wen kicked his feet, leaving an agitated crease in the bedsheet.

He opened Alipay, first collecting energy to feed his little chicken, feigning busyness within the app. When he was done, he tapped on his conversation with Qu Yanting and stared at it quietly.

Qu Yanting hadn't set a profile picture, making his account look like a dead one.

Lu Wen stared at the "520" as seriously as if he were studying a math problem. Trying to read between the lines, Lu Wen wondered, 'Did Qu Yanting really have no other intention? There was no contact all night. Could it be the legendary tactic of playing hard to get?'

He rolled over; the parts with the plasters didn't hurt much anymore.

Lu Wen tapped the chat box, typed "Thanks for the plasters," then deleted it. He changed it to "The plasters worked great," and deleted that too. No matter how he phrased it, it felt disgustingly coy.

Lu Wen regretted not being better with words. After much deliberation, he changed his thank you message into a stiff reminder: Remember to get your IV drip today. Don't say I didn't remind you.

Five seconds after sending it, a WeChat notification chimed.

'I fucking knew it!' It had to be a friend request from Qu Yanting. Playing hard to get for one night, and the moment I respond, he makes his move!

Lu Wen swiftly opened WeChat. A new message was displayed at the top of his chat list.

It was from Sun Xiaojian: Leaving at seven. Waiting for you in the lobby.

Lu Wen: "..."

At seven o'clock sharp, the nanny van departed from the hotel garden on time.

Qu Yanting stretched his shoulders and neck. After working on the script for an hour, he was a little tired. He swiveled his leather chair halfway around to face the bright sky outside the window.

He refilled his cup with black coffee, reviewed the script, sent back revision notes, and had an online meeting with the studio, working nonstop until noon.

Before hanging up, Yu Nan said, "Boss, the weather forecast says Chongqing is getting colder. Be careful not to catch a cold."

Too late, but Qu Yanting didn't reveal he was sick.

Yu Nan asked, "Boss, did you bring enough warm clothes? Or I can mail a couple of pieces over to you?"

"Are you kidding me?" Screenwriter Qiao's chirping voice came through. "He can just buy some at Jiefangbei! Gucci, LV, Armani. If you keep waiting on him hand and foot, he'll eventually stop even going to malls!"

Qu Yanting had always made a point to avoid shopping malls, especially stores where he would have to interact one-on-one with sales staff. Hearing Screenwriter Qiao tease him was a bit of a blow to his pride, so he said, "No need, I'll go buy them myself."

Yu Nan confirmed, "Really? No need?"

Qu Yanting said nonchalantly, "Mhm, it's not far from Jiefangbei here."

Screenwriter Qiao called out sweetly, "Screenwriter Qu, bring me back a bottle of perfume!"

Qu Yanting replied coolly, "I'll burn a bag for you."

After hanging up, Qu Yanting had no intention whatsoever of going shopping. But he did need warm clothes, so after a moment's thought, he opened Taobao and bought a couple of things to make do.

Taobao and Alipay were in the same folder on his phone. The blue icon had a small red circle indicating an unread message. Qu Yanting had notifications turned off, so it was only now that he saw the message Lu Wen had sent in the morning.

Four or five hours had passed; it seemed there was no longer a need to reply.

But then he remembered the body covered in bruises, and Qu Yanting returned the courtesy with a message of concern: Are you feeling any better?

Two minutes later, Lu Wen replied: Much better.

Afraid the idiot wouldn't know, Qu Yanting typed: Take them off today. Don't leave them on too long.

Lu Wen: Got it. Do I need to apply more?

Qu Yanting: Not if it doesn't hurt.

Lu Wen: I didn't use them all. There are still a lot left.

Qu Yanting: You can keep the rest.

Lu Wen: Why do you hoard so many plasters?

Qu Yanting: I have a bad back.

He regretted it the moment he sent it. His fingers hovered for a moment, then he hastily clarified: I often sit for long periods to write, so my back hurts.

After a long pause, Lu Wen replied: Oh.

A single, simple word cut off any desire to continue the conversation. Qu Yanting stopped replying.

Lu Wen sat under the awning of his RV. Every time a notification sounded, his heart leaped into his throat. With each reply, it jumped higher, until it was now stuck there.

The conversation seemed to be over, but he hesitated to exit the chat, afraid Qu Yanting might have something else to say.

Someone came around from the back of the RV. It was Ruan Feng. With a voice as clear as a spring from his acting training, he called out sweetly and intimately, "Brother Lu Wen!"

Lu Wen flinched, dropping his phone on his foot. As he bent to pick it up, Ruan Feng approached. He hastily locked the screen and stuffed the phone in his pocket.

"Hi." Lu Wen forced a smile.

Ruan Feng, carrying a plastic bag, sat down on the chair next to him. His RV was parked behind this one; he had peeked through the window for a while but hadn't seen anyone, so he'd come around to look.

An unnatural smile still on his face, Lu Wen asked, "Did you need me for something?"

Ruan Feng broke into a brilliant smile, his perfectly white teeth on display. He handed over the plastic bag. "Brother Lu Wen, can you do me a favor?"

Lu Wen took it. It weighed three or four jin. He pulled open the bag and saw several large bunches of grapes. They were a common variety, but had been carefully selected; each grape was fresh and plump.