Inevitable

After parting with Nan Jia, Yue Zhishi forgot to eat and returned to the dorm alone in a daze.

It was dinnertime, and no one was in the dorm. Yue Zhishi's eyes hurt, he was listless, and his head was dizzy and muddled. He planned to take a hot shower and then sleep. However, his luck was on par with his condition. Halfway through his shower, the dorm's water heater suddenly broke. No matter how he adjusted it, the water was ice-cold. With no other choice, Yue Zhishi could only rinse off quickly, dry himself, change his clothes, and get out.

During this time, Song Yu sent Yue Zhishi two messages. The first was to say he had been called out to do a ground survey and couldn't accompany Yue Zhishi for training after dinner. The second was to ask where he was.

Yue Zhishi, who had crawled into his quilt, was so cold his teeth were chattering. With trembling hands, he typed out the words 'sleeping in the dorm' and set his phone to Do Not Disturb mode.

He didn't know how long he had slept. His entire dream state seemed particularly fragile; he would wake at the slightest movement, and after waking, he would quickly fall back into a deep sleep. So his dreams were fragmented, all of them memories from his childhood, every single one related to Song Yu. Whether in dreams or reality, he was always the one chasing, chasing until he fell. But every time, Song Yu would turn back to wait for him, except for the last time.

Song Yu walked away without looking back, his figure disappearing quickly. Everything around him melted and flowed down, a bizarre and grotesque scene. All things were dyed red, turning into scalding, viscous lava that enveloped Yue Zhishi. He couldn't breathe, with nowhere to escape.

On the verge of suffocation, Yue Zhishi woke up as if to save himself. It seemed someone below his bed was calling his name, but he couldn't lift his eyelids, only feeling a throbbing pain in his eyes and an excruciating ache in all his bones. It took some effort just to turn over, and he responded with a mumble from under the covers.

He thought he heard Jiang Yufan's and Shen Mi's voices. Jiang Yufan said he had to go out and asked Shen Mi for help. But to Yue Zhishi, these voices sounded as if they were coming from behind a wall, so unreal. It wasn't until Shen Mi and Jiang Yufan worked together to get Yue Zhishi out of bed that he regained some concrete awareness.

Pain, everywhere.

Jiang Yufan found a long woolen cardigan and put it on Yue Zhishi. Feeling that his feet were unsteady, he asked, "Lele, can you still walk?"

Yue Zhishi heard him clearly and nodded. His voice was weak, "I can, I'm fine."

"Don't talk anymore. You call this fine when you're burning up like this?" Shen Mi's voice was a bit loud, making Yue Zhishi's heart tremble. He didn't refute it, but stubbornly insisted on walking by himself. With no other choice, the two of them supported him down from upstairs. While on the stairs, Jiang Yufan could clearly feel that Yue Zhishi was becoming unconscious.

So, once they were off the stairs, Jiang Yufan immediately called a car. But his teacher called again to rush him, so he had to go. "Shen Mi, they're rushing me to death over here. Can you manage on your own?"

"Yes, you go ahead. I'll call you later."

"Okay, I'll come find you at the hospital as soon as I'm done."

In the end, only the two of them were left. The wind downstairs from the dorm seemed to sober Yue Zhishi up a bit. He mumbled that he didn't want to go to the hospital, that he didn't like hospitals. Shen Mi patiently persuaded him, then pulled his arm over, wanting to carry him on his back. But Yue Zhishi was unwilling; he knew Shen Mi wanted to take him to the hospital.

"I don't like it, I hate going to the hospital." It was a struggle for Yue Zhishi to speak, repeating the same illogical phrases over and over.

Shen Mi no longer cared about his refusal and directly pulled him over, intending to forcibly carry him on his back.

But soon, his action was stopped by a pair of blinding high beams. Shen Mi frowned and looked over, discovering a black sedan approaching. He guessed who was in the car, and just as expected.

Song Yu got out of the car, his pace quick. Shen Mi's movements stiffened slightly. He let go of Yue Zhishi, whom he was about to carry, but still held onto his wrist. Yue Zhishi looked very reluctant—reluctant to go to the hospital—but in Song Yu's eyes, it seemed to be for another reason.

"What are you doing?"

Even though Shen Mi was gripping tightly, Song Yu still pulled Yue Zhishi over in one motion.

Just a moment ago, Yue Zhishi had been so insistent. But upon hearing Song Yu's voice, he almost instantly gave in, leaning against Song Yu.

As their skin touched, Song Yu realized something was wrong with Yue Zhishi. He raised his hand to feel Yue Zhishi's forehead, then looked at Shen Mi.

Shen Mi's face was grim. "He's sick. I was going to take him to the hospital. It's that simple."

Song Yu stared at him and, after a few seconds, said thank you. "He gets very grumpy when he's sick. You can't handle him. I'll drive him there." After speaking, Song Yu lifted the semi-conscious Yue Zhishi into his arms, placed him in the car, and closed the passenger door.

He turned around and saw Shen Mi, who had subconsciously followed. Out of a sense of apology for having misunderstood him, Song Yu's tone softened slightly. "You should head back to the dorm. I'll contact you on WeChat if anything comes up."

But for some reason, perhaps because of that sentence, or perhaps the one before, Shen Mi was suddenly enraged. His hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into fists. He stared at Song Yu from half a meter away and said in a voice that was neither loud nor soft, "Let me be direct with you. I like Yue Zhishi."

Song Yu wasn't surprised. He glanced back to confirm and saw that Yue Zhishi was still asleep. Then he turned back to face Shen Mi.

"I've liked him since the first time I saw him on the bus. That's why I braved the rain to return his phone, and I was the one who requested the class change. Yue Zhishi seems easy to approach, but it's actually hard to get close to his heart. So I've been trying hard, hoping to occupy a bigger place in his heart. Do you understand this feeling?"

Song Yu listened to Shen Mi's words very seriously. He thought that if Yue Zhishi had heard this speech, he might have been very moved. But unfortunately, he was Song Yu.

"What's the point of telling me all this?"

Shen Mi let out a laugh, as if very dissatisfied with Song Yu's dismissive attitude. "You can keep up the act. Honestly, from the first time I saw you, I felt you were the same as me—both of us have impure motives. We might as well lay our cards on the table and compete fairly. Why act so high and mighty, as if your feelings are superior to mine."

"What is your status? Friend? Classmate?" Song Yu looked at him coldly, directly exposing Shen Mi's thoughts. "You're just using those as a front to get close to the person you want to get close to."

Shen Mi gave a bitter smile. “What about you, then?”

Song Yu stared into his eyes.

Shen Mi briefly lowered his gaze, then looked back at him fearlessly. "Relying on your status as his brother, relying on the emotional foundation you've built over so many years, you do ambiguous, boundary-less things with Yue Zhishi, enjoying his admiration and attachment, yet you don't break through this relationship yourself. Song Yu, have you ever seen Yue Zhishi when he's unhappy? Have you seen the kind of impact your actions have on him? He feels confused and very sad because of you. Do you know all this? Or are you just pretending not to know?"

"Song Yu, how are you any better than me?"

Seeing Song Yu remain silent, Shen Mi also felt it was pointless. His provocation was meaningless, and exposing the truth was also meaningless. He glanced past Song Yu's shoulder at Yue Zhishi in the car, whose head was leaning against the window glass, his face obscured.

Suppressing his emotions, he finally said to Song Yu, "I don't know what you're really thinking, and I can't be bothered to care anymore. Song Yu, either be a proper good brother and draw a clear line, or just give up this noble status altogether. Anyway, I don't think you're capable of being one."

Song Yu didn't say a word until Shen Mi had left them and walked into another dormitory building. He felt extremely uncomfortable. The identity of 'brother' had been bound to him since he was six. Whether he was willing or not, this identity had already become a skin, grown onto his body.

Shen Mi's words were a knife, brutally peeling off this hypocritical skin, forcing Song Yu to face the bloody, mangled truth.

He had indeed wanted to let things slide.

Back in the car, Song Yu still found it hard to calm his emotions. He drove towards the hospital, driving very fast. In a daze, he even had a terrible thought. If another car suddenly appeared and collided with his, he felt like he would be willing, since Yue Zhishi was here anyway.

But this thought only existed for a second. He quickly slowed down, forced himself to drive calmly, and arrived safely at the hospital. He lifted Yue Zhishi again and found that he was even lighter than he had imagined. The emergency room was crowded. Yue Zhishi leaned against Song Yu, sitting on a chair in the hallway, occasionally opening his eyes for a look before closing them again in discomfort.

When it was Yue Zhishi's turn, he suddenly regained a bit of energy. Though he had been unwilling to see a doctor, he was very cooperative when actually facing one.

"His fever is 39.4 degrees." The doctor said flatly, telling them they should have come sooner. Song Yu felt even more regretful; he didn't even know Yue Zhishi had a cold.

Yue Zhishi had changed; he was just afraid to admit it. In the past, he would tell Song Yu every little thing as if presenting a treasure, but not anymore.

"Any drug allergies?"

Song Yu said yes, then listed all the medications Yue Zhishi was allergic to.

"What is your relationship to the patient?" the doctor asked.

Song Yu paused for two seconds, struggled for a moment, but still answered, "His older brother."

"A fever isn't a huge deal. He wouldn't normally need to be hospitalized, and there are no wards available right now anyway. But I see he has a history of allergic asthma, and a cold and cough can easily trigger an asthma attack. I've prescribed some cough medicine. You must observe and accompany him, and be careful these next few days. Turn right to pay, then go to the injection department for an IV drip."

During the IV drip, Song Yu sat next to Yue Zhishi, letting him lean on his shoulder. He couldn't do anything, nor did he want to. He just quietly stared at a stain on the hospital's white wall. Yue Zhishi seemed to vaguely regain some consciousness. He spoke, saying he wanted to drink water. So Song Yu took out the mineral water he had prepared, twisted open the cap, and brought it to his lips, tilting it to feed him.

But it was difficult for Yue Zhishi to swallow. Even though Song Yu tilted it slowly enough, a lot of water still trickled down from the corner of his mouth. He took a tissue and wiped it dry for Yue Zhishi.

He heard Yue Zhishi call him 'brother' in a strained voice. For no reason, Song Yu suddenly felt a little angry. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

The illness had made Yue Zhishi dull. His face was flushed, and he was breathless when he spoke. But he still subconsciously reached for Song Yu's arm, saying nothing, using this gesture to admit his mistake and beg for forgiveness.

His hand was very pale, the veins prominent, and a thin, short injection needle was inserted into the back of it. 'There will be a very obvious bruise here tomorrow,' Song Yu thought.

Yue Zhishi was a person who got hurt easily.

Thinking of this, his heartache for Yue Zhishi overcame his anger, so he stroked Yue Zhishi's wrist as a silent comfort.

"Next time you're sick, you have to tell me right away."

He didn't know if Yue Zhishi had heard this, because Yue Zhishi did nothing. He seemed to have closed his eyes again from listlessness. Song Yu opened Yue Zhishi's medical record in his hand, and upon seeing the word 'allergy', his thoughts began to wander.

He realized that he, too, was often like an allergic reaction. He would have a flare-up when a taboo was broken, and only after the flare-up would he become vigilant. But the more he couldn't touch something, the more he wanted to. A taboo, which should have restrained desire, instead gave birth to an even greater desire that consumed him.

Yue Zhishi was Song Yu's only allergen.

The night outside grew deeper, but the hospital corridor was still just as noisy. After finishing two bags of IV fluid, Song Yu left the hospital with Yue Zhishi.

Yue Zhishi always had a very bad impression of hospitals. Every time, he went in when he was feeling his worst, being ordered around by others to undergo various examinations. He always used to cry and make a fuss when he was little, because he thought it would work, but it turned out not to be the case. No matter how much he cried and fussed, he still had to see the doctor.

From falling asleep after his shower, to tossing and turning in the hospital, to waking up in a strange place in the middle of the night, Yue Zhishi had been delirious the entire time. He was like a piece of self-combusting wood, lacking consciousness, sluggish and dangerous. This time when he woke up, he found that everything around him was unfamiliar. The milky-white ceiling was low, like a thick layer of clouds pressing down. The quilt and bedding on him were the dark colors that Song Yu favored, but there wasn't a trace of Song Yu's scent; they were brand new.

A faint overhead light was on by the bed. By its light, Yue Zhishi propped himself up and looked around. The room wasn't large. Although he had never been here, the furnishings somewhat resembled Song Yu's bedroom.

He touched his own forehead and felt that the fever had probably subsided. But he still had no strength; he wanted to get out of bed, but his movements were sluggish.

The door opened. Yue Zhishi, who was lifting the quilt, made eye contact with Song Yu, who was entering with a bowl of congee, and it was a bit awkward. Yue Zhishi didn't know whether he should continue getting out of bed or lie back down under the covers, so he just froze.

"Lie down properly. Do you want to get a fever again?" Song Yu placed the congee on the bedside table and forcefully pulled the quilt over Yue Zhishi.

Yue Zhishi didn't speak, seemingly leaning obediently against the headboard. He watched Song Yu stand over him, holding a stainless steel spoon and gently stirring the white congee in the bowl.

He never used stainless steel tableware, and this bowl also looked unprepared.

Everything was new and hasty.

"Eat something before taking your medicine. You should feel a bit better after some sleep. The doctor said it's not very serious." He sat on the edge of the bed and held out his hand, as if to feed him.

But Yue Zhishi didn't lean over obediently like he used to. He didn't want to eat, for no particular reason. His stomach felt very uncomfortable, different from a stomachache; it was a dull pain, as if something inside was being pulled.

Song Yu probably noticed his resistance. “At least have a few bites.”

"Okay," Yue Zhishi said softly. Then he reached out to take the bowl from Song Yu's hands. But Song Yu put the bowl down; he could see that Yue Zhishi didn't want him to feed him.

“If you don't want to eat, let it cool for a while and eat later.”

Yue Zhishi lowered his eyes, his lips tightly sealed. He stared at the quilt covering him, struggling to suppress a cough. Song Yu touched his forehead again, briefly checked the temperature, and then withdrew his hand.

He wasn't running a fever anymore. Song Yu felt relieved. He took out all the medicine he needed to take and placed it on the table according to the dosage. As he looked up, he heard Yue Zhishi ask, "Where is this?"

His face was very pale, but his tone was fairly relaxed, and it sounded like a casual question.

"A house I rented." Song Yu counted the pills again; one was missing.

Yue Zhishi first hummed softly, then he took a deep breath and couldn't help but start coughing again. When Song Yu looked up at him, he turned his face away. He didn't know that while he was delirious, Song Yu had said he gets grumpy when he's sick. If he had heard it then, he would have rushed to deny it. He was actually very obedient; he only made a fuss because he was scared.

Song Yu called Yue Zhishi's name and took out an inhaler, getting it ready. But Yue Zhishi eventually recovered on his own. He turned his head to look at Song Yu, his gaze somewhat empty.

"Why did you rent a house?"

After waiting for a while, Song Yu still hadn't replied. Yue Zhishi wasn't like before, asking a question only once so as not to bother Song Yu. He tactlessly asked again, "Why did you move out?" After saying this, he looked down at the quilt.

Song Yu's palms began to sweat. He didn't look at Yue Zhishi and gave a brief reason, "It's more convenient to live alone."

"Is that so." Yue Zhishi was still smiling at first. He continued to ask, "Then this bed, who did you plan for it to be for? The tableware you haven't had time to buy, who did you want to buy it with? And who did you want to cook with, eat with, and sleep with in this house?"

His questions came out one after another, his emotions growing agitated, even on the verge of breaking down, his voice trembling. Song Yu hadn't expected this, nor did he quite understand why Yue Zhishi would get so angry over something as minor as him renting a house. He had been fine at the hospital. Song Yu felt awful, so he reached out and grabbed Yue Zhishi's hand, which was clutching the quilt, trying to soothe him.

"Be good, don't be like this."

"Like what?" The rims of Yue Zhishi's eyes were red, stubbornly holding back tears that refused to fall. "Am I not good enough?"

"I asked you, am I being weird? You said no, you said I was just afraid of being separated from you." Yue Zhishi's voice trembled a little, and he paused briefly. "No matter what you say, I listen, I do as you say. Even if you coax me like a child, I believe you."

When he realized he couldn't get what he wanted from Song Yu's expression, he lowered his head. To his great surprise, he saw a red rash on the inside of his arm. He rubbed it numbly with his fingers, and the rash turned redder. Then he muttered, "An allergic reaction again. It still happened."

Yue Zhishi broke down without warning. The minor allergic reaction became the true last straw that crushed him. He began to cry his heart out like a small child. "Why did I still have a reaction... Weren't you at the hospital? Didn't you tell the doctor I have allergies? You were so careful to avoid it for me, did it even work?"

Nan Jia was right, he was in so much pain. He sobbed, breathing with difficulty, but still looked up to stare at Song Yu. Tears blurred his vision, so Yue Zhishi couldn't see Song Yu's expression. He desperately wanted to see clearly, which made him even more frustrated. He didn't want to look anymore.

Yue Zhishi looked very fragile, yet he didn't beg for Song Yu's embrace like he used to.

He hugged his knees, curling up and burying his head in the crook of his arm. "It was all useless. I still fell in love with you."