Chapter 89 — Thinking that Chen Jingshen Is Still in This World
In the afternoon, Chen Jingshen took leave, and the two of them went to Nancheng Third Hospital.
It was the oldest hospital in Nancheng. The technology lagged, the equipment was outdated, and the environment was a mess. People living nearby came for minor aches and pains. Anyone seriously ill would travel far for treatment elsewhere.
At the door of the ward the nurse had told them, Yu Fan looked at the mottled, yellowing wall and tapped the arm of the person beside him, pointing at the bench outside like a parent: “Sit here and wait for me. Do not wander off.”
Chen Jingshen thought about it. Probably better not to go in. He hummed, “Call me if you need me.”
“What could happen.”
That was what he said, but when Yu Fan put his hand on the doorknob, he still paused for a few seconds before pulling it open.
Inside, the doctor happened to be on rounds.
“How are you feeling today… wearing a respirator is uncomfortable. Try to bear with it.” Seeing the patient on the bed slowly shake his head, the doctor turned and asked the people behind him in a low voice, “Has the family still not been reached after all these days?”
The nurse said, “We asked the police for help and reached two people. Both said they would find time to come in the next few days…”
As she spoke, the door creaked open. The next second, the man who had been near lifeless on the bed rasped out several hoarse, garbled sounds.
The doctor understood at once. Family had arrived.
“Are you a relative of Yu Kaiming?” the nurse asked quickly.
The tall, lean man swept one cold glance over the figure on the bed, as if looking at a despicable insect, then turned his head. “Yes.”
The nurse looked at his expression and thought she had the wrong person. When he confirmed it, she blinked. She took out a clipboard to confirm, “You are his… son?”
“Mhm.”
“…”
The doctor said, “Shall we step outside so I can explain his condition?”
“No need. Say it here,” Yu Fan said.
The doctor hesitated, then tried again. “The patient’s condition is complicated right now. It would be better if we…”
“How much longer can he live?” Yu Fan asked. “It is not more than a year, is it?”
“…”
Yu Kaiming stared wide-eyed and cursed at him through the mask, the words blurred and broken: “Beast… worse than a dog…”
At that, the doctor finally understood the relationship between father and son. He had worked this job many years and had seen it all. According to the patient’s own account, he had learned he had cancer while in prison. With no one to care for him and no income, he had not applied for medical parole. He dragged it out until release.
So there was nothing to hide, least of all in front of the patient.
There were no other patients in the room. The doctor answered, choosing his words. “Not necessarily. With good care we can try to fight for more time. Right now there are two options. One is to go home and recuperate, focus on care, keep the patient in good spirits. The other is to remain here for treatment, though the process may be uncomfortable and the outcome is not guaranteed.”
Yu Fan lowered his eyes and thought for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you. I will discuss it with him.”
“All right. If you need anything, come to my office.”
When they were gone, only two people remained.
Yu Fan looked around, pulled a chair over and set it at the foot of the bed. He crossed one leg over the other, gazing down at the man on the bed.
During the years of Yu Kaiming’s sentence, Yu Fan had never once visited.
Six years later, Yu Kaiming had wasted away to skin and bone. His cheekbones jutted high. His face was all haggardness, but his eyes still held that deep, festering hate.
Yu Fan suddenly remembered. The morning he had received a call from the police. They said Yu Kaiming had tried to buy gasoline in bulk, could not produce any proof, got into a row with the shop owner, and then suffered a sudden stroke. That was how he ended up in the hospital.
Yu Fan could not be bothered to figure out what the gasoline was for. Maybe he wanted to burn someone. Maybe he wanted to burn the old apartment. In any case, he was lying here now. Late-stage cancer and a sudden stroke meant he would have a hard time moving freely again.
“Pick one,” Yu Fan said after a silent inspection. “Do you want me to take you home, or do you want to hang on here for a few more months?”
Yu Kaiming clearly froze. With the respirator on, speech was hard. “You… will take me home?”
“You worked so hard to raise me all those years. Now that one of your legs is already halfway in the ground, of course I will take care of you.”
He stared dumbly, first shocked, then doubtful. Then he figured it out. Maybe his current state had stirred some pity in Yu Fan. After all, they were father and son. Things had always been bad between them, but blood was blood. At the end, Yu Fan would not abandon him.
His heart surged. The next second, tears were about to spill—
“When you get home, I will be sure to pay you back. Exactly the way you treated me and my mother.”
His son sat in the winter light and smiled at him, cold as ice.
A draft slipped through the cracked window and cut like a blade. Yu Kaiming’s eyelids sagged at once, leaving only those cheap tears pooling in his sockets.
F*** blood ties. A villain’s son is a villain all the same.
“Get out.” He wanted to throw something and smash Yu Fan bloody, make him lie right here next to him. Too bad his head was foggy and his body gone soft. Even his curses had no bite.
“You want to stay in the hospital?” Yu Fan asked.
Yu Kaiming closed his eyes and refused to speak. He could feel his own heartbeat spiking in fury, his breath going ragged and out of rhythm.
“Fine,” Yu Fan stood up. “Do not worry. I will renew your fees on time. I will keep paying until the day you die.”
“…”
“But try to speed it up. I do not have much money. If one day I cannot cover the bill—”
“Get out! I… I will—”
He snapped his eyes open to curse, but found that Yu Fan had already put the chair back and come to his bedside.
Yu Fan crooked his fingers and tapped the tubing on the machine, then tilted his head, looking down with casual curiosity. “Yu Kaiming, if I waited until you were asleep and pulled this, what would happen?”
Yu Kaiming’s breathing grew harsh. “You… would not dare. Kill me… and you go… down with me…”
“I would not dare?” Yu Fan gave a short laugh. “If I would not dare, then why did you piss your pants six years ago?”
“…”
Terror flooded Yu Kaiming’s face. His eyes went bloodshot.
But Yu Fan only smiled. Rummaging through his memory, Yu Kaiming realized that all the smiles he had ever seen on his son’s face in his life, added together, might not add up to what he saw today.
No, maybe when Yu Fan was very little he had laughed happily. Back then, he himself still held a proper job, had not gambled, had not drunk. Yu Fan could barely walk, tottered into his arms, showed those two new front teeth, pudgy little hands on his arm…
He had been in a stupor for days, but now scraps of two decades ago floated back.
His scowl slackened in a daze. His expression flickered from vicious to vacant. No telling how long it lasted. He had just opened his mouth to speak when he heard the last words his son would ever say to him.
“Live. Right here in this bed. Live until you cannot stand it and die, or live until the night I cannot sleep.”
When Yu Fan came out, his shoulders let out a breath, and then sagged heavy. It felt like some crushing weight had finally fallen away. Heart, brain, limbs, everything filled back up with strength.
Maybe this was the joy of being a bastard.
He turned, ready to take his boyfriend home, and saw the kid on the bench who looked like he was waiting for a parent staring at him in fright. His boyfriend had already gotten up and was heading for the exit.
Yu Fan: “?”
He started after him, but a passing nurse reminded him of the bill. He called, “Chen Jingshen?”
“I will wait outside,” Chen Jingshen said without looking back, voice cool.
Yu Fan stared at his back, baffled, until the nurse spoke to him and he turned away.
“The bill?” The nurse blinked and flipped through her notebook. “Oh, the bill for bed 44 has already been paid.”
“Already paid?” Yu Fan paused. “By who?”
“That we do not know. They paid three months in one go.”
Yu Fan walked out of the hospital still without a clue who had paid. Cancer treatments were absurdly expensive. It could not be those drinking buddies of his. No charity would cover a man fresh out of prison. Those distant relatives were all praying to stay far away…
He looked at the little Audi waiting for him in the whitened landscape and decided to drop it. Whoever it was, it had nothing to do with him.
He got in, buckled his seatbelt, and glanced at Chen Jingshen.
Chen Jingshen did not look at him. Chin tipped up, he pressed the pedal without a word.
Yu Fan: “?”
He leaned back and his eyelids tightened to match the man next to him.
He used to think that Chen Jingshen had the same face for everything. You could never read his joy, anger, or sorrow. But right now, haul anyone off the street and they could tell this man was sulking.
For no reason, even.
Yu Fan watched the snowy streets for a moment and came up blank on anything he had done wrong.
Whatever, he thought, cold-faced. Sulk if you want. So random. I am not indulging you.
A few minutes later, arms folded, he turned and said flatly, “Chen Jingshen.”
“Mm,” came the light reply.
“What are you mad about?”
“I am not.”
“…”
The car stopped at a jammed red light. Feeling the fierce, slightly anxious gaze on him, Chen Jingshen rested his hand on the gear lever and turned his head.
“I was just thinking,” he said lazily, “when are you going?”
“Going where?” Yu Fan did not follow.
“To pull Yu Kaiming’s tubes.”
“…”
After the fact, it hit Yu Fan. The hospital walls were like thin paper. Almost everything he and Yu Kaiming had said had drifted out to the one sitting outside.
“I am not going. That was to scare him,” Yu Fan said at once. “I am not insane. I am not dying with him.”
“To scare him,” Chen Jingshen repeated. “And six years ago?”
Yu Fan went still and looked at him quietly.
“Six years ago you thought about dying with him, didn’t you?” Chen Jingshen asked.
The light turned green and there was still no answer. Chen Jingshen faced forward again. His throat worked, and suddenly the air in the car felt thin. He tapped the window switch. A slim crack opened, and cold air flowed in.
The mood froze, heavy as ice. Chen Jingshen held the wheel and felt a blunt-knife fear sawing through him in waves.
Snow and traffic slowed them to a crawl. At one intersection they did not move at all. Even the red light timer felt twice as long. Chen Jingshen glanced at the map and considered finding a side street to pull over for a while. He was not in a state to drive.
The back of his hand on the gear lever was suddenly nudged. His fingers were pried up, slowly, and held.
Yu Fan’s hand had been tucked in his pocket. Heat seeped through their palms.
“I did,” Yu Fan said.
Chen Jingshen’s mouth pressed into a line. His knuckles whitened on the wheel. Then his hand was gripped tighter.
“But it did not last. Back then I… thought about you.”
“Even though I had decided to leave. Even though I could not keep dating you.”
Yu Fan lowered his eyes. His tone was even and dull. “But when I thought of you, I did not want to die.”
Afterward, too. He had gone to a strange city, been hounded by debt, crushed by coursework, lived alone. At first life felt pointless. But thinking that Chen Jingshen was still in this world made it feel livable. Only when work stabilized and life got busier did those thoughts slowly wear away.
A few seconds after he finished, Yu Fan flinched and shut his eyes. F***, that was way too sappy. Was he out of his mind saying crap like that? He could have just said he did not want to die…
The cars in front finally began to inch forward. Yu Fan let go at once. “Anyway, do not overthink it. I am fine now. Drive.”
Chen Jingshen said nothing. At the next intersection he suddenly turned.
Yu Fan stared fixedly out the window, mortified, until the car pulled over to the curb. The click of a seatbelt unfastening sounded. He turned, puzzled. “Chen Jingshen, why are we—”
The back of his neck was abruptly gripped and pushed forward. Chen Jingshen leaned in and kissed him, cradling his face, ignoring the slit of the window and the steady flow of pedestrians along the street.
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