Stop Being a Black Lotus, Okay? - Chapter 3

The moment the light flickered on in the entryway that night, Lu Min sensed something was wrong. A faint, amber glow emanated from the living room. He had explicitly told Ying Yulian not to wait up for him. So, who was it?

Lu Min reached into the cabinet and pulled out a knife. Was it an old enemy from his days as a police officer, or were those persistent thugs looking for trouble again? The small blade flipped deftly between his fingertips as he stared at the light, his thoughts indifferent. Whoever it was, since they had come to his door, he would entertain them properly.

However, as he drew closer, Lu Min’s footsteps halted. The living room was empty of intruders. There was only a figure curled up in the corner of the sofa, covered by a light gray blanket. Sunken into the shadows, only a small portion of a pale profile was visible.

He remembered the boy sitting at the dining table that morning before he left. The teenager had been wearing the outfit Lu Min had picked out, his hair neatly combed; he was the very picture of an obedient child. Seeing the boy wrapped in the clothes he had chosen had strangely lifted Lu Min’s mood. Consequently, when Ying Yulian had timidly asked if he would be back for dinner, Lu Min had specifically mentioned he had a cross-timezone meeting and would be late. He had instructed Ying Yulian to reheat the dinner in the fridge and to be in bed by 10:00 PM.

It appeared his final command had not been followed.

Lu Min walked over and stood before the sofa. Ying Yulian’s eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, his long lashes casting light shadows under his eyes. But Lu Min could tell he was not in a deep sleep; the boy’s body was too tense, and his fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the blanket until his knuckles turned white.

Lu Min’s brow furrowed. He reached out, not to touch the boy, but to feel his forehead. It was burning.

Woken by the touch, the person on the sofa stirred, and his eyes slowly blinked open. Those dark eyes were vacant at first, taking a few seconds to focus on Lu Min’s face.

“Mr. Lu, I am so cold.”

In a daze, he opened his arms toward the man. Then, suddenly realizing their relationship was not one where he could act so spoiled, he timidly tried to pull his hands back.

To Ying Yulian’s surprise, the man actually leaned down. Lu Min slid his arms under the boy’s knees and back, lifting him up directly. He carried the boy, grabbing a clean towel and a thick, long down jacket from the closet.

“Mr. Lu?” Ying Yulian’s voice was as raspy as a broken bellows.

Lu Min used the towel to quickly wipe the cold sweat from the boy’s forehead and helped him sit up. Limp and devoid of strength, Ying Yulian leaned into Lu Min’s chest, allowing himself to be handled. Lu Min removed the sweat-soaked pajamas and dried the boy’s back inch by inch.

As the jacket was put on, Ying Yulian unconsciously rested his head against Lu Min’s shoulder, his feverish breath hitting the side of the man’s neck.

“Cold.”

Lu Min did not respond; he simply moved faster. He pulled the zipper to the top, flipped the hood up, and wrapped a cashmere scarf twice around the boy’s neck. Then, he bent down, hooked one arm under Ying Yulian’s knees and supported his back with the other, lifting him steadily.

The boy’s weight was so light it made Lu Min frown.

On the way to the garage, Ying Yulian leaned groggily in his arms. Lu Min’s expression remained calm, though the slight tension in his jaw betrayed a faint sense of anxiety. As the car sped through the empty predawn streets, Lu Min habitually glanced at the passenger seat. Ying Yulian’s head was tilted, the brim of the hood obscuring most of his face, leaving only a glimpse of a pale chin.

Waiting at a red light, Lu Min reached over to check the boy’s forehead. The temperature had not dropped.

The lights of the emergency room were always piercingly white. Lu Min recalled the countless times he had been here in his past life, either injured himself or delivering a colleague to a cold operating room. Now, the person he was bringing to the ER was the nemesis he had spent his entire previous life hunting.

As a nurse pushed a gurney toward them, Lu Min immediately set Ying Yulian down, his movements very gentle.

Lu Min could not quite define the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital. Was it the memory of his fallen comrades, or was he actually worried about the boy on the bed? This was someone he should not have saved, yet he did. He did not want to think about it.

He turned to head downstairs. Nurses were already attending to Ying Yulian. Lu Min was not skilled at caregiving, nor was it his responsibility.

“Do not leave.”

Though Lu Min had moved quietly, Ying Yulian was startled. He instinctively grabbed Lu Min’s sleeve, his voice as weak as a kitten’s. Lu Min looked down at the hand clutching his cuff. The fingers were thin, the joints prominent, and they trembled slightly from the effort.

He was silent for a few seconds before covering that hand with his own, using his other hand to help the nurse transfer Ying Yulian to the hospital bed. When the needle pierced the back of his hand, the boy flinched in his sleep. Lu Min’s hand moved to cover the boy’s other hand, his thumb unconsciously stroking the cool skin. This was a gesture he did not even notice himself making.

The private room was on the top floor of the inpatient department. By the time Lu Min had settled him in, the sky outside had shifted from deep black to dark blue. He stood by the bed, watching the fluid drip steadily, his gaze as still as a pond.

Under the influence of the medication, Ying Yulian fell into a deeper sleep, though his brow remained furrowed and his lips were pressed tight, occasionally letting out soft murmurs. Lu Min dimmed the overhead lights, leaving only a single wall lamp on. He pulled a chair to the bedside and sat, his back straight and hands folded on his knees.

A nurse came in for rounds. Noticing the boy’s restless sleep, she kindly whispered a suggestion.

“Sir, the child is so young. It is hard for them to sleep soundly when they are sick. You might try patting him gently.”

“He is not a young child. He is fifteen.”

“I am sorry, I should not have spoken out of turn,” the nurse replied, her face flushing as she closed the door.

Lu Min’s gaze shifted to Ying Yulian. The boy was indeed small and frail, looking no different from a ten-year-old. If Lu Min had not checked the police records for his birth date, likely no one would have guessed this child was fifteen.

Ying Yulian was currently trying to bury himself in the blankets, his fingers tightly clutching the edge until his knuckles were white. It was a posture born of an extreme lack of security, as if guarding against some invisible threat.

Impelled by an inexplicable whim, Lu Min set down his tablet and turned off the bedside lamp. Darkness instantly swallowed the room, save for a sliver of city light peeking through the curtains. He lay down on the bed and turned on his side to face the boy. Sensing the movement, the boy’s body stiffened for a fleeting moment.

“Cannot sleep?” Lu Min asked, his voice sounding particularly deep in the dark.

Ying Yulian was silent for a long time, so long that Lu Min thought he would not answer. Then, a very soft, almost inaudible “Yes” came through.

Lu Min said nothing more. He reached out, not to embrace him, but to place his palm flat against that thin back. Through the cotton pajamas, he could feel the boy’s bones and the slight tension in his muscles.

Then, he began to pat. One, two, three.

The pressure was neither too light nor too heavy, the rhythm steady and even, like some primitive ritual of comfort. The sound of his palm hitting the back was clear in the quiet room. At first, Ying Yulian remained stiff, his body held in a defensive curl. But gradually, through that repetitive, stable patting, his tense muscles began to relax. His fingers loosened their grip on the blanket, and his brow smoothed out.

Lu Min did not stop. His hand rose and fell steadily, his eyes fixed on the boy’s blurred silhouette in the dark. This action was foreign to him; he had never comforted anyone like this and was not even sure if he was doing it right. But he remembered when he was sick as a child, the old family nanny would pat his back to coax him to sleep. It was one of his few warm memories of being cared for.

Ying Yulian’s breathing grew long and rhythmic. Just as Lu Min thought he had fallen asleep, the boy suddenly moved, unconsciously leaning toward him. His forehead pressed against Lu Min’s shoulder, his feverish breath fanning across the man’s neck.

Lu Min’s hand paused for a heartbeat before resuming. This time, he adjusted his angle, letting his palm fall on the boy’s shoulder blade with a lighter touch. Ying Yulian huddled closer into his arms, almost pressing his entire body against him. Thin arms wrapped instinctively around Lu Min’s waist, his face buried in the crook of the man’s neck like a young animal that had finally found its nest.

Lu Min’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly. This distance was too close. It was close enough to feel the racing heartbeat beneath the boy’s thin chest and close enough for that clean yet fragile scent to surround him completely.

But he did not push him away. He simply kept patting, the rhythm and strength unchanged.

In the darkness, Lu Min stared at the ceiling. Random thoughts flickered through his mind. If his comrades from his past life knew that the criminal madman they had spent ten years hunting currently needed to be patted to sleep, their jaws would probably hit the floor. But all those thoughts were gradually replaced by the sensation of the body beneath his palm, growing warmer and more relaxed.

Ying Yulian’s breathing finally stabilized into the rhythm of deep sleep. The arms around Lu Min’s waist lost their strength and went limp. Lu Min continued to pat for a while longer before slowly stopping. He did not pull his hand away immediately, leaving his palm against the boy’s back to feel the steady rise and fall.

In the shadows, the corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly; it was a faint arc he did not even notice himself. Then, he closed his eyes and remained in that position, letting Ying Yulian lean against him. Outside, the city grew quiet, and the occasional sound of traffic faded into the night.

Once Lu Min had fallen into a deep sleep, Ying Yulian opened his eyes.

The boy took a soft breath, catching the scent of cedar on the man, and a small smile touched his lips. He saw that the man had given him almost the entire blanket, leaving himself with only a tiny corner.

It was a good thing he had not actually fallen asleep.

Ying Yulian carefully tucked the blanket around the man and then snuggled back into Lu Min’s arms, like a dodder plant clinging to the branch it relied on for survival. Seeing Lu Min’s brow furrow uneasily in his sleep, the boy reached out to smooth it over.

He nudged against the man’s neck and whispered, “Goodnight, Mr. Lu.”