After My Death, I Became the Scum Gong's White Moonlight's Back-Spirit - Chapter 6

Bai Ziwen quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

Bai Ziyan gently and carefully laid his younger brother down, helping him tuck the small blanket in snugly.

Clearly, Bai Ziyan was quite experienced in taking care of children. He took a small blanket from the side, rolled it into a cylinder, and placed it right at the top of Bai Ziwen’s head, curving it downward to connect with the small blanket draped over Bai Ziwen’s body. In this way, the child’s entire person was encircled by the bedding, giving him a strong sense of security and the blissful feeling of returning to a mother’s womb.

Mo Han quietly watched them.

A thin strand of sunlight pierced straight through his fingers, casting his seemingly living form into a translucent quality, like a fragile piece of porcelain.

The most direct expression of love he had ever received from an elder was when he ran a high fever and drifted in and out of consciousness while his maternal grandfather gently tucked him in.

Thus, the single time Duan Cang had tucked him in was something he remembered for seven years.

Duan Cang.

Mo Han frowned slightly, pressing a hand to his chest.

He reached out, passing right through his own spiritual form.

The location of his heart was completely empty.

Bai Ziyan had just returned to China, and perhaps the Bai family intended for him to rest for a few days, as they had assigned him no tasks. For the time being, he was quite leisurely, choosing simply to remain stationed by his younger brother’s side.

Mo Han sat by the bedside, watching the sun gradually slope westward, the sunset casting a layer of warm orange edges over the green leaves.

The hospital room grew dim.

Mo Han did not like the setting sun, nor did he like dusk, and even less did he like the dead of night. It was much like how he disliked the busy signals emitting from phones during countless dusks of the past, and the meals that gradually grew cold in the evenings.

Perhaps he simply detested waiting while holding onto meager hopes, alongside dim and silent living rooms.

Throughout the entire living room, the only sound would be the faint “crunch” of Xiao Hei playing with its yarn ball.

Ironically, it was only after death that he was tightly bound to his love rival, making it impossible for him to even experience a moment of solitude.

Sensing that the hour was getting late and fearing his younger brother wouldn’t be able to fall asleep at night, Bai Ziyan began speaking in soothing tones, attempting to gently wake him.

Bai Ziyan’s voice was genuinely pleasant. When he raised his pitch slightly, it resembled a mountain stream; when he deliberately lowered his tone, it sounded like the gentle whisper of a spring night breeze.

Mo Han couldn’t help raising his head to look at him, sighing softly in his heart as he thought that while Duan Cang was no good person, his taste in people was certainly decent.

Bai Ziwen hadn’t slept this soundly in ages. Being woken up, he threw a rare tantrum, arching his head into his older brother’s embrace with his eyes closed, looking like a snorting little piglet.

Mo Han softened his expression, but his brow suddenly twitched as he caught the shadow of Duan Cang in his peripheral vision.

Duan Cang?

Mo Han turned his head, and sure enough, he saw Duan Cang stepping out of a car and hurrying toward the building.

Before long, a knock sounded at the door. Seeing that his younger brother was about to drift back into a deep sleep, Bai Ziyan had no choice but to walk outside, fearing the visitor might startle the boy.

Standing outside the door was Duan Cang.

Bai Ziyan looked surprised, smiling as he asked, “How did our CEO Duan end up here? Isn’t today’s work too busy for you?”

Duan Cang gazed at Bai Ziyan, a smile breaking across his normally stern face like an ice sheet beginning to thaw. “Came to check on Xiaowen.”

He paused. “…And you.”

Young lovers in the throes of passion always wanted to cling stubbornly to each other’s sides, and Duan Cang was no exception.

Bai Ziwen was startled upon hearing this, his eyes curving upward. “Xiaowen is still sleeping; I need to wake him up to move around a bit… Are you free in a bit? Want to grab dinner together?”

“Alright.”

Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang walked back into the room. They were of similar height, possessing differing temperaments yet sharing an equal handsomeness. Walking side-by-side, they resembled dual suns traversing the sky together, so dazzling that people scarcely dared to look directly at them.

Mo Han stood at the entrance of the hospital room, turning his back as he leaned lightly and weightlessly against the outer wall.

The voices inside continued to drill into his ears.

“How is Xiaowen’s condition?”

“He’s improved a bit, but he still has nightmares.”

“Have you been staying here with him all afternoon?”

“Mm, I didn’t have much going on these past few days, so I came over to check on him.”

Mo Han leaned against the outer wall, watching a little sparrow fly past amid the sea of evening glow spreading across the sky outside the window.

After coaxing Bai Ziwen to sleep, Duan Cang and Bai Ziyan headed out together to have dinner.

Duan Cang handed the menu to Bai Ziyan. After scanning it, Bai Ziyan smiled and said, “They actually have mao xue wang and spicy crawfish! When I was abroad, Chinese food was what I craved the most.”

“Excuse me, I’ll take an order of mao xue wang and a portion of crawfish, spicy flavor.”

Mo Han saw Duan Cang frown. “Ziyan, I…”

Bai Ziyan handed the menu back to Duan Cang. “I’ve already ordered. What do you like to eat?”

Duan Cang froze for a moment before taking the menu.

Bai Ziyan asked with some curiosity, “A-Cang?”

Mo Han suddenly understood why Duan Cang was frowning.

Duan Cang’s stomach wasn’t in great shape. Word had it that back in college, just as he was beginning to take on the Duan family’s enterprise, he had overworked his body.

Because of this, after learning about it, whenever Mo Han shared a meal with Duan Cang, he never ordered or prepared anything heavily seasoned.

Deeply in love with Duan Cang, Mo Han knew all his habits and preferences. Every time they went out to eat, Duan Cang didn’t even need to look at the menu, leaving everything entirely in Mo Han’s hands.

The dishes Mo Han ordered always suited Duan Cang’s palate to perfection.

Yet clearly, the dynamics of their relationship did not apply to Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang.

Duan Cang likely realized this as well. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he looked down at the menu. Mo Han floated behind him and whispered softly, “Order a portion of millet, yam, and goji berry porridge, plus an order of vegetable hearts with shrimp and clear-water boiled cabbage.”

The dishes Mo Han suggested were indeed the ones that suited Duan Cang best. Even though Duan Cang couldn’t hear him, his gaze habitually drifted toward the picture of the millet porridge.

However, the moment he was about to speak, his expression suddenly twisted for a split second, as if recalling some nauseating memory. He violently slammed the menu down onto the table, the sudden, deafening crash startling Bai Ziyan.

Bai Ziyan stood up with a look of concern. “What’s wrong, A-Cang? Are you feeling unwell?”

Hearing Bai Ziyan’s voice, Duan Cang forced out a smile, the expression on his face appearing slightly unnatural due to the lingering distortion. “I’m not feeling unwell. Just thought that eating something heavy on flavor sounds good too.”

“Let’s also get a spicy fish and a plate of pickled green dragon seafood.”

He tossed the menu to the waiter and muttered in a barely audible voice laden with mockery, “A person who isn’t even a doctor why would anything they say be credible?”

His final sentence was spoken so quickly and quietly that it was masked by the rustle of the menu; Bai Ziyan didn’t catch it, but Mo Han heard it crystal clear.

Not long after he and Duan Cang got together, Mo Han discovered that Duan Cang’s stomach was rather unhealthy. To nurse Duan Cang’s stomach and ensure he ate on time, he experimented endlessly with porridge recipes, to the point where even friends who had sampled fine cuisine everywhere praised his cooking as exceptionally fresh and flavorful.

Back then, when they had first gotten together and Duan Cang hadn’t grown tired of him yet, showing him a fair bit of indulgence, he would let him repeat his admonitions over and over—meals should be light, spicy food and alcohol should be consumed sparingly, and if there was a business banquet, he should line his stomach with something before drinking instead of going on an empty stomach.

A habit could be formed in twenty-one days, let alone the seven years Mo Han spent with Duan Cang.

Now, looking at the dishes drenched in chili peppers across the table, Mo Han suddenly felt a fatigue so profound it hollowed out his entire body.

The aroma of the dishes on the table was pungent and spicy, whetting one’s appetite. Duan Cang’s appetite was also piqued, and he followed suit by picking up a crawfish.

The shelled crawfish lay neatly in the plate, drenched in the spicy broth, presenting an alluring color under the lights.

Bai Ziyan ate one and shook his head. “Sure enough, crawfish is always most flavorful when eaten right on the street.”

The spiciness stimulated Duan Cang’s lips and mouth. His tongue, which hadn’t tasted heavy flavors in a long time, danced with delight, lifting Duan Cang’s spirits along with it. He remarked, “Then let’s go eat on the street next time. Back on that street right behind our high school, that barbecue joint is still open and even expanded its scale.”

Bai Ziyan said in pleasant surprise, “It’s still open? Then we definitely have to go try it! Their crawfish is the most authentic flavor. Do you remember that plate of barbecue we sneaked out over the wall to eat back then?”

Recalling the past, Duan Cang couldn’t help smiling. “Of course. That was the most delicious barbecue I’ve ever eaten, the best crawfish.”

Bai Ziyan sighed. “Time flies so fast. It’s been ten years since we climbed over the wall to skip class that day.”

Duan Cang lowered his gaze. “Yeah, time flies fast.”

Unsure of what he was thinking, a dark shadow crossed his eyes, but when he looked back up, his face was once again wreathed in smiles. “We missed a decade, but we’ll have many decades ahead of us.”

Bai Ziyan’s earlobes turned faintly pink, flushed by Duan Cang’s deeply affectionate declaration, and even the corners of his eyes bloomed with a lovely rosy tint, resembling peach blossoms resting upon white jade.

“Alright, we’ll have many decades ahead.”

The atmosphere in the room grew warm and ambiguously heated, causing those ten years of separation to melt away like winter snow meeting the blazing sun.

Along with it, a small half of Mo Han’s life melted away as well.

Mo Han sat quietly in the corner, looking at the tree shadows outside the window. He felt like a quiet tree, hearing nothing at all.

Deep in the night.

A sharp, agonizing pain shocked Duan Cang awake from his dreams. Opening his eyes, his forehead was slick with cold sweat.

He pressed both hands tightly against his stomach, yet it brought no relief whatsoever. The sharp, piercing pangs grew increasingly intense, feeling quite literally as though he had swallowed a thorny hedgehog whole.

“Mo Han! Mo Han!”

“Where the hell… are you?!”

Duan Cang squeezed a low roar from between his teeth, reaching out to fumble for the heating pad by the bedside that kept warm water, only to grab empty air.

He suddenly remembered that Mo Han had already left.

Cursing under his breath, he struggled to crawl out of bed to find medicine.

During the days he spent with Mo Han, his stomach had been cared for so well that it had never acted up once, making him almost forget that he even possessed a delicate stomach—he had actually thought his stomach ulcers were completely cured!

The intense pain caused wave after wave of dizziness to wash over him. Fortunately, Mo Han had always been exceptionally methodical: his frequently used medications were neatly arranged in the medicine box, and opening the lid, the very top layer contained stomach medicine.

The water inside the cup had long since gone completely cold, but he could no longer afford to care about such details, swallowing the medicine down with the icy water.

As the medication began to take effect and he felt slightly better, it suddenly struck him: he hadn’t suffered from stomach pain in nearly seven years, so naturally he had no occasion to use stomach medicine. Could the stomach medicine in the box be long past its expiration date?

Was his stomachache barely going to subside only for him to end up in the hospital from taking expired drugs?

Duan Cang’s expression turned ugly. He snatched up the medicine box, only to see that the manufacturing date printed on it was clearly just two months ago.

Two months ago, Mo Han was still by his side.

Mo Han…

Duan Cang’s expression shifted, culminating in a cold sneer.

Leaving so cleanly who knew if this was just some new game of playing hard to get.

It had been so long; he wondered how much longer she could hold out staying away.

He was waiting to see what kind of expression Mo Han would wear when he finally came crawling back only to discover he was already together with Bai Ziyan.

It was bound to be spectacular.