The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 20.2

Chapter 20.2

The office door closed, leaving only a faint light from the desk in the room. Lu Cong silently gazed at Meng Yuan’s sleeping profile. His eyes were complex, his brows slightly furrowed, as if reflecting on his own heartbeat that had been stirred in that instant.

The person on the sofa moved. A corner of the blanket was flipped back, and Meng Yuan opened his eyes groggily. The light was dim; Meng Yuan saw Lu Cong sitting beside him but couldn’t see his expression clearly.

“Awake?” Lu Cong moved closer, and his face became clear. He had quickly organized all his emotions; Meng Yuan couldn’t see anything abnormal.

“Mhm,” Meng Yuan rubbed his eyes, then turned his head toward the window. “How is it already dark…”

The office sofa was right against that full glass wall. Meng Yuan sat up a bit while grabbing the backrest, slumped limply, and pressed his face against the glass.

The neon lights and scattered points of the city below reflected into his eyes; he saw the river stretching out endlessly, its surface shimmering with light. Meng Yuan was momentarily dazed. He had never seen such a good view for night scenery before.

And the glass was cool. He felt a bit hot sleeping in the blanket; pressing against it felt so comfortable that he simply lingered there.

Lu Cong saw him staring downstairs without speaking, looking very absorbed. He didn’t understand: “What’s so good to look at out there?”

“Everything looks good,” Meng Yuan said softly.

Lu Cong understood even less. But Meng Yuan’s eyes were bright, reflecting the lights from outside, flashing like glass beads. This kind of gaze was very beautiful, as if hiding secret thoughts, or as if he simply liked the scenery outside.

Lu Cong was momentarily moved. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked. “Look at the night scenery. You can take a boat for a night tour on the river out there.”

“Can I?” Meng Yuan said joyfully.

At this moment, Lu Cong’s heart indeed softened: “Of course.”

…

The cruise ships on the river ran until midnight.

Lu Cong took Meng Yuan onto a ship. Meng Yuan was very happy, heading straight for the second-floor deck. The night breeze was gentle, lacking the heat of the day, feeling cool and comfortable against the skin.

Meng Yuan gripped the railing, looking curiously at everything before him. There were many other tourists on the ship; staff members occasionally gave explanations. Though it was late at night, everywhere was bustling. This must be a famous spot in the city; many tourists with out-of-town accents were taking photos here.

Seeing everyone taking pictures, Meng Yuan also took out his phone and asked Lu Cong: “Can I take a photo?”

“Hmm?” Lu Cong raised an eyebrow. He needs my permission for such a small thing? Why is his personality so soft? “You can,” he said.

Then he saw Meng Yuan give a brilliant smile, open the front-facing camera, and hold up his phone. Lu Cong only felt a flash on the screen, and next to Meng Yuan’s cute face appeared a startlingly handsome face. It was his own.

He reflexively took a step back: “What are you doing?” His tone was a bit heavy.

Meng Yuan hadn’t expected such a big reaction. He froze, suddenly becoming dejected, his large eyes drooping with grievance: “You said I could take one.”

“I—” Lu Cong stammered: “I said you could take photos of the scenery.”

“What’s so good about taking photos of scenery?” Meng Yuan drawled, unhappy. “When you go out to play, of course you have to take photos of the person you’re playing with! Last time Sister Qin Qing and I went out to sea, we took many too.”

Lu Cong: “…” Lu Cong looked at Meng Yuan.

Meng Yuan actually considered this ordinary boat ride as “going out to play”? Lu Cong was slightly moved; he hadn’t expected Meng Yuan to value their time together so much. If he refused the other person’s invitation for a photo again, would it chill the kid’s heart? After all, Meng Yuan rarely made any requests of him; every day, besides spending money at home, he was spending money outside; he had never troubled him with anything.

“Alright,” faced with such a longing gaze, Lu Cong compromised. “Alright.”

He took a step forward into the frame. His handsome face appeared next to Meng Yuan again; they actually looked quite well-matched. He placed a hand on Meng Yuan’s shoulder. “Take it. Remember to smile.”

So, Meng Yuan split his mouth into a grin. The shutter recorded a silly-looking self and a solemn-looking Lu Cong.

“You told me to smile, so why aren’t you smiling yourself?” He realized something was wrong afterward. “No, this one won’t do. One more.”

“Just one more, okay?”

However, Lu Cong was stingy and only took that one. He walked away with his hands in his pockets, smiling, leaving Meng Yuan behind to give him an aggrieved look.

Halfway through the voyage, Meng Yuan sat down to eat the desserts provided on the ship. Lu Cong looked at his phone out of boredom. He didn’t look up once; no matter how beautiful the river’s night scenery was, to him, it was just something he could glimpse every time he turned around at work. The streets, the river, the shops he was intimately familiar with every corner.

“How was it last time you went out to sea with Qin Qing?” Lu Cong asked casually.

“Quite good,” Meng Yuan said. He had been happily looking around, but now he stopped. He bowed his head to eat, his fingers tapping and scrolling on his phone screen; he spoke less.

Lu Cong looked at him. Is he sulking?

“That’s all?” he pressed.

“What else is there?” Meng Yuan thought for a bit. “Sister Qin Qing knows how to sea-fish; she taught me how to catch a lot of fish?” This time he said a bit more, but his tone was flat, and he still stared at his phone.

Lu Cong: “…” Is he really angry? Does he want to take a photo with me that badly? Tsk, really can’t be helped.

He pressed his lips: “If you really want”

He stopped abruptly. Lu Cong’s eyes widened. He saw that on Meng Yuan’s phone, that photo was clearly in a photo-editing interface. And Meng Yuan was focusing intently, teeth clenched, dragging Lu Cong’s flat, pressed lips upward forcefully dragging them into a “smiling lip” shape.

Lu Cong watched with his own eyes as his handsome face turned into an android’s; his vision went dark. Before he could stop him, Meng Yuan directly clicked share and sent the image to Qin Qing.

Qin Qing replied instantly with a “shocked” emoji.

Now even a recall was useless. Lu Cong was so angry he nearly fainted.

“Whew!” Meng Yuan laughed with satisfaction, full of praise for his own hand-editing skills; he didn’t look like he was sulking at all. He replied to Qin Qing a few more times, put away his phone, and looked at Lu Cong.

Alright, now we can have a good chat. He wasn’t very good at multitasking; when he focused on one thing, it was easy to neglect others. He hadn’t really paid attention to Lu Cong just now.

Huh? Where’s Lu Cong? The space in front of him had emptied at some point.

Ding! The phone rang. Lu Cong sent a text: Home.

Meng Yuan looked up. The sound of the boat docking reached his ears. He hurriedly got up, wondering as he walked why Lu Cong didn’t send him a WeChat message.

Wait… something flashed in Meng Yuan’s mind. He hurriedly opened WeChat and scrolled through. Sure enough, he found the friend request from half a month ago forgotten by himself from the Great Master Lu. However, the verification had already expired.

Meng Yuan: “…” Finished.

The night breeze was a bit cold. He shivered and sent the request again.

Lu Cong was waiting for Meng Yuan at the exit. Before seeing the person, he received the verification message from that fellow. He curled his lip and let out a huff. The young master finally remembered this and showed mercy? Half a month had passed; he thought Meng Yuan didn’t intend to pass him for the rest of his life.

Lu Cong turned off the screen. He counted to ten before opening it again and indifferently passed it.

At the same time, Meng Yuan appeared in the crowd. The gangway for disembarking was a bit steep; he walked slowly while typing with his head down. On Lu Cong’s phone, Meng Yuan’s status continuously showed “Typing…”

He was even slow at typing. People coming and going brushed past him; several times it looked like he would be knocked down. Lu Cong stepped forward and pulled him down directly.

“Eh!” Meng Yuan’s eyes lit up. “I was just about to ask where you were.”

Lu Cong: “If you would just look up once, instead of only thinking about sending messages, you would have found me long ago.”

“…Oh.” Meng Yuan looked at him, then looked again.

“What do you want to say?”

“Nothing.” Meng Yuan pursed his lips and walked away.

Lu Cong: “?”

…

Qin Qing once again opened a revenge short drama. In the empty night and empty room, she was very bored and quickly became absorbed.

The elevator doors opened. She reflexively looked toward the front-left and nearly thought she had traveled through time. Lu Cong had come back carrying Meng Yuan again. Meng Yuan was sleeping soundly on his shoulder; even the angle was the same as last time.

Qin Qing: “…” The boiled corn in her hand fell to the floor. “Why are you carrying him back again?”

Didn’t he blame them last time for coddling Meng Yuan too much and say Meng Yuan should walk himself from now on? Why was the big boss like this, taking the lead in making mistakes?

Sure enough, people are born with double standards. Some people are always lifting a stone only to drop it on their own feet.

Lu Cong glanced at her without making a sound and walked toward the bedroom. Qin Qing followed, seeing Lu Cong’s “defeated” look; she knew Meng Yuan had likely tossed and turned him again. She forcefully suppressed a laugh: “President Lu, you only warned us last time not to”

Lu Cong swept a “hand-blade” glare over. Qin Qing saw his face covered in black lines and finally couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Shut up.”

Qin Qing hurriedly pressed her mouth with both hands and followed. Lu Cong placed Meng Yuan gently on the bed. He straightened up and let out a long breath. Turning around, he saw Qin Qing’s distorted face from laughing and felt a surge of fire.

He’d just been tossed around by Meng Yuan, and now even the housekeeper was getting insolent—this house was simply going to be turned upside down. Forget Meng Yuan, he was at least the wife he married; what was the housekeeper? Taking his salary yet here laughing at him?

“What choice do I have if he wants to sleep?” Lu Cong said crossly. He still insisted that Meng Yuan needed to be independent, at least needing to walk himself, but the key was that the fellow simply didn’t listen to reason. When he truly fell asleep, he couldn’t be touched; at one touch, he would moan and groan as if someone were bullying him. Lu Cong had to use every ounce of his ability just to carry him back.

“He simply can’t be woken up. Qin Qing, is it really okay for him to sleep like this every day? Have you ever intervened?”

Qin Qing led Lu Cong out of the room and gently closed the door. “Of course I’ve intervened,” she sighed. “I’ve been having a doctor watch him. But you also know about his illness… the doctor says sleeping and resting more is beneficial. I’m just afraid that in the future, he won’t be able to sleep even if he wants to.”

Lu Cong went silent for a moment, staring at the closed door with furrowed brows. He didn’t speak again and left.

Once in the car, his side finally became quiet. Several messages from Song Zhen popped up on his phone. Lu Cong opened them; it was a travel plan for the South Pacific in one week, done very meticulously and in great detail.

Song Zhen: Young Master Meng has plans to travel soon.

Song Zhen: Sister Qing gave several options, and Young Master Meng finally chose a private island vacation.

Lu Cong looked at this plan for a while. He didn’t feel anything at first, but at a certain moment, he suddenly had an epiphany. He finally understood why Meng Yuan suddenly ran to the company to find him, and why he had been hesitating to speak all day.

So he wants me to accompany him on the trip, but is too embarrassed to say so? This fellow… Lu Cong gave a reflex smile. He really knows how to play.

Actually, this kind of thing was normal. Usually, after two families entered a marriage alliance, the first trip was taken together; this was almost a default rule in their circle. Meng Yuan might not be used to it yet, so he was a bit shy.

Lu Cong recalled Meng Yuan’s stuttering appearance, face and ears red and suddenly his mood became smooth.

. : Rearrange the following schedule.

. : You’ll have to work a bit harder these few days. Take the trip as a relaxation. Paid.

Song Zhen: Alright!

Lu Cong tossed his phone away, the corners of his mouth lifting. Private island vacation in the South Pacific; his taste isn’t bad.

…

One week later. Capital International Airport.

The vehicle drove onto the tarmac. The sun was just rising, and Meng Yuan squinted his eyes, stung by the cold light reflecting off the fuselage of a business jet in the distance. The gangway car was already in place, the cabin door was open, and ground crew members stood silently to one side. Meng Yuan and Qin Qing got out of the car together, a dry breeze blowing against their faces.

“Young Master Meng, Ms. Qin, good morning.” A female account manager in a crisp uniform greeted them with a smile. “All flight permits have been confirmed. The aircraft is ready.”

Qin Qing smiled and nodded to her, then put an arm around Meng Yuan’s shoulder: “Let’s go, Xiao Yuan.”

Meng Yuan was very curious about everything before him. So you don’t need to enter from the airport to take a plane? He didn’t know; this was his first time flying.

Just as he looked up and around, another car drove up from behind. Meng Yuan stopped, turned around, and saw the driver pull open the car door. A tall silhouette appeared in the backlight. He rubbed his eyes and raised a hand to shield against the sun. The person’s face gradually became clear.

Meng Yuan: “…!”

Lu Cong saw Meng Yuan from a distance. The boy was dressed beautifully today: a beige long-sleeved cardigan and white trousers, wearing a beige lotus-leaf-rimmed sun hat. The brim was wide; when the wind blew, it rippled like waves, and Meng Yuan had to hold it gently with his hand. Most of his face was covered by the hat, leaving only a mouth opening and closing as he chatted incessantly with Qin Qing.

Lu Cong hadn’t seen someone so excited over a single trip in a long time. Seeing Meng Yuan walking as if he were about to hop, yet pretending to be dignified and restrained, was actually quite fun.

The two stopped in front of the gangway car. Qin Qing raised a hand to point, and Meng Yuan followed, lifting his hat brim to shield the sun and squinting toward him. In the unobstructed morning sunlight, Lu Cong easily saw every one of Meng Yuan’s expressions.

Meng Yuan was looking very seriously and with a lot of effort. As if the sun were hurting his eyes and he couldn’t see clearly no matter what, he even craned his neck forward. Lu Cong instinctively quickened his pace.

Suddenly, Meng Yuan’s expression changed. His eyes widened, and regardless of whether the sun would make his head spin, he stared straight at Lu Cong. All the anticipation on his face vanished. That expression, Lu Cong reflected, was as if he had seen a ghost. Worse than seeing a ghost. It was as if Lu Cong were some uninvited guest who would ruin every good mood; the moment he appeared, Meng Yuan was scared out of his wits.

Lu Cong’s footsteps stopped abruptly. He immediately understood: Meng Yuan was surprised by his appearance. Meng Yuan didn’t know he was coming, and his sudden appearance brought the other person anything but happy emotions. From start to finish, Meng Yuan had never thought of traveling with him; he had completely been over-thinking it.

Lu Cong didn’t walk forward anymore, staring at Meng Yuan from a distance that was neither long nor short. Meng Yuan had already pulled back his expression. That “struck by lightning” look of disbelief had actually only appeared for a few short seconds before he hid it, even trying his best to put on a polite smile.

“You’re here,” Meng Yuan took two steps toward him. “Perfect timing; we were just about to go up.”

He had already started learning how to hide his emotions. Perhaps realizing his first reaction wasn’t appropriate, he smiled to show goodwill. But it was useless; Lu Cong had already taken in every expression, every gaze, and even the subtle shifts between emotions. The more Meng Yuan pretended to be happy, the more Lu Cong felt a blockage in his heart, making it impossible to breathe.

So I postponed half a month of work and worked overtime for a week straight, only to get a trip of unrequited affection.

“Mhm.” Lu Cong responded, brushed past Meng Yuan’s side, and boarded the plane expressionlessly.

Meng Yuan: “…” He froze on the spot for half a second, unable to even distinguish whether Lu Cong was actually angry. After all, as long as Lu Cong had no expression, he always looked like he was angry.

Meng Yuan recalled his performance just now. It was excellent, restrained and enthusiastic. At most, he had only expressed a trace of surprise and quickly adjusted his emotions. Although he didn’t have much travel experience, nearly zero he knew that when going out to play, one shouldn’t be a “wet blanket,” so he had even taken the initiative to show goodwill to Lu Cong. Lu Cong’s personality was a bit strange, but surely he wasn’t this petty.

“Let’s go, Xiao Yuan.” Qin Qing lightly touched his back. Meng Yuan snapped out of it and nodded with a smile.

Song Zhen followed at the end, also looking full of anticipation for the trip. The group boarded the plane lightheartedly. Except for Lu Cong himself, no one noticed he was angry.

Realizing this, Lu Cong directly raised the partition of his seat.

In this business jet, besides the flight attendants, there were only four of them. Meng Yuan and Lu Cong’s seats were side by side. When each seat’s partition was raised, it formed an exclusive private space, ensuring no disturbance from the outside. Qin Qing and Song Zhen’s seats were further back; during normal conversation, the front and back basically couldn’t hear each other.

Meng Yuan stood in front of his seat, took off his coat, and stared at Lu Cong’s “self-enclosed” shell, curiously tilting his head. What is this guy doing? Does taking a plane make him shy? He was clearly the one flying for the first time; how could Lu Cong be even worse than him?

“The Boss likely still has some work to handle,” Song Zhen explained upon seeing this.

Meng Yuan had an epiphany: “So that’s it.” He has to bring work even when going out to play? Meng Yuan felt a trace of sympathy. It seemed Lu Cong still had a trace of a connection to ordinary “oxen and horses” (overworked laborers); the only difference was that his one day of work earned money that an “ox or horse” couldn’t earn in a lifetime. Thinking this, Meng Yuan found he seemed to have lost the ability to empathize again.

He sat in his seat. The seat was very comfortable, an Italian leather sofa that could lie completely flat. A flight attendant brought him a blanket and pillow. The porthole beside him was massive and could electronically adjust its transparency. Meng Yuan imagined flying in the sky, passing through clouds, and couldn’t contain his excitement.

Before takeoff, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigner came into the cabin. He wore a crisp uniform, his hair combed impeccably; by his dress, he was the captain, possessing a military-like temperament. Meng Yuan instinctively sat up straight. He had a natural respect and fear for people with such strong auras like Lu Cong at the very beginning. Later, Lu Cong’s character persona gradually collapsed in front of him, changing from a stick-figure silhouette in a novel into a solid entity who wouldn’t stop appearing before him. Fear occasionally remained, but it was hard for Meng Yuan to feel any more “respect” for him.

“Good morning, everyone,” the captain gave a warm smile. “I am the captain for this flight. I will briefly explain our route. We will fly along the Coral Sea route and expect to witness the sunrise over Tonga. I wish you all a smooth journey.”

He spoke fluent English, but Meng Yuan actually didn’t understand it at all. He only heard an occasional “is” or “as,” which brought back nightmares of English listening tests in middle school.

Meng Yuan: ^^ Don’t understand, but keep smiling.

The plane climbed upward. The interior of the cabin was in soothing sand colors and deep sea blue; the lights dimmed, creating a gentle and comfortable atmosphere.

During the takeoff, Meng Yuan faintly felt something was wrong. As the plane rose, his heart rate quickened, and his chest felt stifled, as if pressed by a stone. Breathing became difficult. Maybe it’s a bit of motion sickness? Meng Yuan had looked it up online beforehand and knew that it was normal to be a bit unadjusted for a first flight. Therefore, when this happened, he didn’t panic and closed his eyes to try and calm the discomfort.

But the sound of his heartbeat thudded in his ears, becoming clearer and more hurried. So annoying. My ears hurt. Meng Yuan frowned, crossed his arms, and arched his back, gritting his teeth to endure the churning in his stomach. The feeling of wanting to vomit lasted for several minutes, only easing slightly once the plane began to fly steadily.

His ears were still blocked, and the surrounding sounds weren’t very clear. Meng Yuan broke into a cold sweat. He flattened his seat and lay down, silently enduring the aftermath of the palpitations.

The flight would last thirteen hours. Meng Yuan slept through more than half the time; when he opened his eyes again, he couldn’t tell what time it was. The light in the cabin was dim. A soft warm light faintly overflowed from Lu Cong’s side he didn’t know if he hadn’t slept or had woken up long ago.

Meng Yuan propped himself up by the armrests and sat up, rubbing his temples. His head was still a bit dizzy, his chest felt stifled, and a dull pain faintly came from his temples. The plane was actually flying very steadily with almost no turbulence; Meng Yuan didn’t understand why he felt unwell everywhere.

He had already missed the mealtime. His stomach was empty and felt a bit acidic. Seeing this, a flight attendant brought him a meal.

“Sorry, Young Master Meng, we didn’t seek your opinion during the meal service just now,” she said softly, kneeling on one knee beside Meng Yuan.

Meng Yuan was completely unable to adjust to this “kneeling” service. He quickly asked the attendant to stand up, his own heart thumping nervously. “It’s fine,” Meng Yuan smiled. “It’s hard to wake up once I fall asleep anyway.”

However, even after the flight attendant stood up, she still spoke to him with a slight bow and an especially gentle voice. “Thank you for your understanding. Actually, Mr. Lu also specifically instructed us not to wake you, saying you would be uncomfortable. How is your body feeling now?”

Meng Yuan froze for a moment: “He… said that?”

“Yes,” the flight attendant smiled, as if commenting on how good their relationship was.

Meng Yuan stopped talking, gave a dry laugh, and stole a glance toward Lu Cong’s side. Since when did Lu Cong understand his physical condition so well? Meng Yuan wondered. However, no sound ever came from the other side, only points of light spreading steadily.

Food was placed on the table bit by bit not airline meals, but a menu pre-customized by Qin Qing. The appetizer was caviar with a mother-of-pearl spoon; the main course was slow-cooked sea bream with local herbs. Meng Yuan’s body wasn’t suited for alcohol, so the champagne was replaced with a glass of warm water. The dishes were all good, but Meng Yuan couldn’t eat; he had no appetite and couldn’t taste anything. His mouth always felt a bit bitter. After a short while, he put down his knife and fork. He took a deep breath and lay back listlessly.

…

Lu Cong hadn’t slept at all. He had started handling work as soon as he boarded the plane, holding two video conferences in a row. Midway, he had also looked toward Meng Yuan’s side a few times. Meng Yuan hadn’t raised his partition, sleeping through it all while holding a cashmere blanket and pillow. With his back to Lu Cong, Lu Cong couldn’t see his face. He just felt that Meng Yuan seemed quieter than usual on this journey.

During the meal midway, he specifically hadn’t let the crew wake Meng Yuan. Later, when Meng Yuan woke up and ordered food himself, Lu Cong listened for any movement but didn’t notice anything abnormal. It wasn’t until the flight attendant came to collect the trays and the food inside was almost untouched that Lu Cong realized something was wrong. Meng Yuan had only finished that one glass of warm water, then immediately lay back down, still in that same position with his back to him.

Lu Cong wanted to ask a question, but the words were in his mouth and somehow couldn’t be said. He still felt a bit awkward and disgruntled. Work was finished too. He retracted his partition completely and flattened his seat to lie down. Meng Yuan was right to his left, not far away; if he listened carefully, he could even hear Meng Yuan’s sometimes-light, sometimes-heavy breathing. This breathing frequency told him immediately that the boy was not asleep.

Lu Cong tilted his head to look over, his eyes widening slightly. So even if he isn’t asleep, he’s unwilling to say a few words to me, or even face me? Was his presence on this trip, to Meng Yuan, really that terrible? Lu Cong stared at the back of Meng Yuan’s head for a full ten seconds before nearly laughing out of anger. He put on his eye mask, also turned over to have his back to Meng Yuan, and clenched his hands across his chest. He took several deep breaths and put on his headphones.

…

Meng Yuan was enduring pain. His stomach hurt so much he couldn’t sleep. It was better right after waking up, but after eating, the stomach pain directly increased by a level, instantly forcing a cold sweat out of him. He kept his eyes closed, but his mind was very clear; he could hear the faint sounds in the cabin and feel the slight swaying of the fuselage, as if bobbing up and down on sea waves.

Not long after, stomach acid began to rise in waves. Dark mist flickered before his eyes, and his chest felt uncomfortably blocked. What should I do? I really want to vomit… Meng Yuan tightly closed his eyes, wanting to fall into a deep sleep again, constantly lying to himself that it would be fine once he was asleep he wouldn’t want to vomit if he were asleep.

But the world-shattering turmoil in his stomach grew stronger and stronger. Though he had only eaten a few bites of food just now, it now pressed heavily on his chest, surging upward bit by bit. Meng Yuan placed one hand on his upper abdomen, not daring to use force, pressing lightly in hopes of easing the discomfort. His other hand unconsciously gripped the cashmere blanket, his fingers trembling with effort.

Cold sweat trickled down. Finally, he couldn’t hold out any longer. He grabbed the seat and stood up shakily.

A flight attendant quickly approached: “Young Master Meng, is there anything you need?”

Meng Yuan closed his eyes and opened them again, his voice carrying a trace of non-detectable trembling: “I’m going to the restroom.”

The light was dim and everyone was sleeping, so both voices were very light. Meng Yuan kept his head lowered; the flight attendant couldn’t see his face clearly, only vaguely feeling he seemed a bit weak. Before she could ask further, Meng Yuan had already walked out first, his pace somewhat hurried. The flight attendant hurriedly followed: “Over there, Young Master Meng, I’ll take you.”

As soon as he entered the restroom and closed the door, Meng Yuan leaned over the sink and vomited. In the sealed cabin, the air was suffocatingly stuffy. Meng Yuan nearly vomited up bile. His throat was dry and painful; he kept swallowing saliva while his stomach churned incessantly.

The hand pressed to his abdomen grew tighter and tighter, his knuckles turning white. He could no longer stand. He held onto the sink and crouched down, then sat on the cold floor, drained of strength, feeling the world spin. It was my first time flying, and the experience is so terrible. He had no energy to look at any scenery outside the window; he didn’t know if or when they had passed through clouds. He could only use all his strength to resist the misery of motion sickness.

Meng Yuan felt like he wanted to shed tears from the pain. He tried to hold it back, raising a hand to rub his eyes and curling himself into a ball. He hadn’t known he got motion sickness, so he hadn’t taken any medicine or made any preparations beforehand. Now he felt like he was about to faint. I never want to take a plane again.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but Meng Yuan’s consciousness gradually cleared a bit. The churning in his stomach seemed to have been suppressed slightly. Or perhaps it was simply because he had absolutely nothing left to vomit. In any case, he found he had recovered some strength.

His clothes were completely soaked. Meng Yuan held onto the wall to stand up, the sweat stinging his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe his face, turned on the faucet to wash his face and rinse his mouth, then closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before gathering enough strength to open the door and walk out.

At this moment, the cabin was silent. The floor was covered in a thick carpet, making his footsteps almost noiseless. No lights were on at the top; only a ring of light strips on the floor provided a soft, dim glow.

Meng Yuan slowly returned to his seat. As soon as he touched the chair, he collapsed onto it, feeling as if all the bones in his body had melted; his hands and feet could produce no strength. His heartbeat still thudded in his ears. He closed his eyes and groggily felt like he had slept for a while—or perhaps fainted for a while.

When he woke up again, a sharp pain came from his stomach. Stomach acid returned to churn, stimulating his throat. Without even opening his eyes, Meng Yuan covered his mouth and began to cough. This was the first noise he had made today. In the nearly two hours before this, no matter how uncomfortable it was, he could endure it himself, but he couldn’t hold back a cough.

Meng Yuan coughed harder and harder. He turned over and leaned over the edge of the chair, dry-heaving. Such a commotion woke Lu Cong up, even though he was wearing headphones.

After finishing work, Lu Cong napped for a bit. After sleeping, his mind finally cleared. He realized afterward how childish he had been, staying angry for so long over a single expression from Meng Yuan it was truly laughable. What was more laughable was that, in the entire place, likely not a single person had noticed his reaction. He had just been pointlessly sulking alone for several hours. It was too absurd and completely unlike him.

Sudden, intense coughing erupted beside him, and Lu Cong snapped awake instantly. He took off his headphones and eye mask and stood up to look at Meng Yuan. Meng Yuan was facing away from him, lying on his side in the chair and coughing heart-wrenchingly.

Lu Cong’s first reaction was that he might have choked on something. He raised a hand to pat his back to help him catch his breath. “Meng Yuan.”

However, as soon as his hand touched Meng Yuan’s back, Lu Cong was so shocked he froze. Meng Yuan was completely soaked with cold sweat. The thin fabric of his clothes was nearly transparent and stuck to his back. His curved spine and protruding shoulder blades were clearly visible; he was frighteningly thin.

Meng Yuan was shaking. Perhaps Lu Cong’s sudden contact had startled him, because he coughed even more violently, even letting out painful sobs. A buzzing sound went off in Lu Cong’s head. He stayed pinned to the spot for a second in shock, then immediately stood up and moved to the front of Meng Yuan.

“Meng Yuan?” He lifted Meng Yuan’s face. With just one look, his soul nearly flew away from fright.