Chapter 18 (2/2)

Song Yuanxun was unwilling to wear his slippers, and Fang Zhaomu took it that he was feeling bad about it. He then said courteously, “It’s fine, you should wear them.”

Fang Zhaomu liked wearing soft, thin and loose sweaters. In a warm place, wherever he was, that place would feel like it had an air that made people reluctant to leave.

His words made people unable to reject him, and Song Yuanxun involuntarily wore those slippers.

Fang Zhaomu’s place could be entirely seen with a glance.

Song Yuanxun recognised this place. Fang Zhaomu had been sitting on this very bed in his pyjamas and video-chatting with him.

Fang Zhaomu even made Song Yuanxun compliment his ear studs — the ear studs he liked were personally selected by Song Yuanxun, and the food delivery happened because Song Yuanxun had given a large tip to the restaurant, and his little secret messages in the lab were all sent to Song Yuanxun’s phone.

The only thing was that Fang Zhaomu did not know anything about this, and Fang Zhaomu had got it wrong.

Fang Zhaomu’s bedsheets had changed, and on his little table was a cake. Song Yuanxun patted Fang Zhaomu’s shoulder and typed for him, “It’s your birthday today?”

Fang Zhaomu was a little taken aback, and admitted it. He then casually asked Song Yuanxun, “You want some cake?”

“Happy birthday.”

Fang Zhaomu politely and carefully thanked him.

Song Yuanxun typed some more. “Is there anything you wished for?”

Fang Zhaomu looked at the words and looked away. “I’ll help you call the insurance company now. What should I say?”

His tone made Song Yuanxun feel that Fang Zhaomu wished to quickly send him away.

Fang Zhaomu found a pen and paper for Song Yuanxun, and let him write it out.

Song Yuanxun found the number of his insurance, and Fang Zhaomu dialed it, explaining Song Yuanxun’s situation to the company.

At first, only one tire was punctured. After Song Yuanxun replaced it with the spare tire, another one was punctured. He had thought it was a system fault, and so continued driving. He only stopped when the car’s warning signs all lit up, and smelled the burning smell when he opened the door.

The company said that they would send a tow truck over, it would take about thirty minutes.

After the call, Fang Zhaomu cut a slice of cake for Song Yuanxun and poured him a glass of water. He saw that Song Yuanxun’s left hand had an abrasion on it, and it seemed fresh. Pointing at it, he asked him, “Did you injure yourself just now?”

Song Yuanxun wrote, “I scraped it on the rusty part of the jack when I was replacing the tire.”

“The jack was even rusty?” Fang Zhaomu looked helplessly at Song Yuanxun. He had a bit more emotions than when Song Yuanxun had asked him about his birthday wishes, and educated Song Yuanxun. “Don’t you know that you have to disinfect it and get an injection?”

Fang Zhaomu took a small first aid kit from a cabinet, and removed the cake from the table before he opened up the kit. He then asked Song Yuanxun to hold his hand out for him.

Fang Zhaomu’s cheeks were a little pink, and his lips were redder than most people. Even with his eyes lowered, his eyes and lips were still shiny.

Song Yuanxun thought, at least he definitely was not the only person whose breathing would turn irregular after looking at Fang Zhaomu for a long time.

Fang Zhaomu was not talkative with Song Yuanxun, and Song Yuanxun held his left hand out towards him. Fang Zhaomu grasped Song Yuanxun’s palm, and helped him disinfect his wound with a piece of alcohol-soaked cotton.

Fang Zhaomu’s hand was also very soft. Thinking about this, Song Yuanxun’s fingers curled up, and grabbed Fang Zhaomu’s left fingers.

Fang Zhaomu was startled and moved away the cotton. “Is it that painful?”

Song Yuanxun released Fang Zhaomu and slowly nodded his head.

“I’ll be gentler,” Fang Zhaomu smiled at Song Yuanxun. “You’re actually so afraid of pain.”

Song Yuanxun looked at Fang Zhaomu’s smile. Thinking for a few seconds, he then braced himself and wrote, “Keep it a secret.”

Fang Zhaomu laughed. His distance from Song Yuanxun was less than twenty centimetres. His eyes were curved, and gave a carefree assurance. “Alright, I won’t tell anyone.”

He then looked down and wiped his wound with the piece of cotton, and placed a plaster over it. “You still need to get a tetanus shot.”

Song Yuanxun wrote, “Sure.”