(hospital intro i never finished)
Beep, beep….
AND THEN THE mc JUST DIES LOL
—
“Jinrong, it’s time for your medicine.”
Qiu Jinrong stirred at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He had gotten used to his main attending nurse calling him by name after months in the hospital, but this time the speaker was male. Still, he turned towards the sound and managed a small smile.
A small intake of breath greeted his action, but Qiu Jinrong didn’t pay it any mind. Most likely it was because of his eyes. Although his medical records clearly stated that he was blind, that was only an afterthought beyond the long list of medical ailments plaguing his body. He was sure plenty of interns had spent their time reviewing his medical history and the intricate interactions of this pill with that infusion to bother with his sight.
In any case, he spent most of his days in bed.
“Is it 3:00PM already?” Qiu Jinrong asked as he tried to get up with difficulty. Strangely enough, although the pain plaguing him was gone, his body felt much weaker and the action nearly exhausted him. Must be the painkillers again, he sighed internally. That was the problem with medicine. You could fix one thing, but the side effects were something else. His usual cocktail of pills were carefully calculated not to kill him, but it didn't make him feel much alive afterwards.. “Sorry, could you help me sit up?”
There was a pause before the nurse set something down with a clatter—porcelain by the sounds of it, which was rather new. The scent of herbs wafted in the air and Qiu Jinrong instantly identified it as Chinese medicine at the same time warm, firm hands slid beneath his back and eased him upright. He could sense the fingers were trembling faintly—probably nerves, Qiu Jinrong concluded. The newer staff were always tense when dealing with patients for the first time.
“Thank you,” he said politely and put on another smile. “Did the doctor change my prescription again?”
There was a beat of silence before the other said, with a faint quiver in his voice, “No.”
Qiu Jinrong creased his brows slightly. “Are you sure? I’ve been taking pills for the past few weeks. Have you checked my patient chart?”
“Your constitution isn’t strong enough for pills yet,” the other replied, firmer this time. “For now, only these decoctions will do.”
Qiu Jinrong’s face fell slightly. “Ah, I see…” He must have had a relapse then. That was a shame, but in light of things, it didn’t make much of a difference. At most he’d be stuck inside for a couple more weeks until his health swung back into the clear again. Perhaps he could request his nurse to bring more audiobooks to bide away the boredom.
“Jinrong, you…” the male voice hesitated, then went on, “Are you feeling all right?”
It was a strangely non-standard way of asking the question, but Qiu Jinrong knew enough of the proper procedures to guide this new intern along. “I was in pain when I fell asleep, but I’m much better now. How many painkillers did they dose me with? It’s incredible, I can’t feel anything at all.”
“You were in pain?” the voice sharpened. Oddly enough, Qiu Jinrong felt the man grab his wrist next to take his pulse. “Where did it hurt?”
So old-fashioned. Were there still interns taking pulses in this day and age?
“It’s fine, it’s gone now.” A little amused by the little nurse’s panic, Qiu Jinrong patted the hand holding his and laughed. “I’m not a child, I’m used to this kind of thing.”
"No!” the voice insisted. “If there’s even a little bit of pain, you have to tell me right away. I’ll think of something to fix it, I promise.”
“Leave that job to the doctors,” Qiu Jinrong tutted and patted the hand again. “All right, it’s time to drink my medicine. Let’s do that before it gets cold.”
As if suddenly realizing his mistake, the man let go and quickly picked up the bowl. “I—I’ll feed you.”
“You have my thanks,” Qiu Jinrong accepted easily. He leaned back against the headboard, supported by a pillow, while the sound of a spoon scraping against a bowl filled his ears. Soon enough, the same spoon was nudging against his lips and Qiu Jinrong obediently opened his mouth to take in the first mouthful.
He had braced himself for the bitterness of Chinese medicine, but was surprised to find the concoction vaguely sweet with only the slightest hint of astringency plucking at his tongue.
“This isn’t bad!” Delighted, Qu Jinrong praised out loud. “If all my medicine’s like this, I don’t want to take pills anymore."
“Do you like the flavor?”
“It’s one of the better medicines I’ve tasted,” Qiu Jinrong smiled. “What’s the secret?”
“Moon Ambrosia essence,” the man muttered back.
Qiu Jinrong assumed it must be the fancy name of some random Chinese medicine ingredient and nodded. “Amazing.”
Sip by sip, he soon downed the entire bowl and sat back with a rare feeling of satisfaction. As the medicine began to take effect, he grew groggy again and gave a slight yawn as the nurse placed the bowl elsewhere.
“Ah right, I forgot to ask—what’s your name?”
The movements from the other stopped. Qiu Jinrong faintly sensed something intense focused his way and raised his eyebrows slightly. Was the man staring at him?
“You...don’t remember?”
“Sorry...have we met?” Qiu Jinrong frankly felt a bit helpless. His hearing was good, but plenty of people sounded the same. Wasn’t it too much to ask a blind man to remember everyone he met? “I’m not very good with faces.”
Haha, joke of the day.
“I...never mind,” the man seemed to take a deep breath before he leaned in close. “It’s Long Tingyu.”
Qiu Jinrong absently scratched his ear, feeling ticklish from the breath from the man’s voice. “No need to whisper it in my ear. I’m not deaf,” he chided. “Which characters?”
“Ting for pavilion, Yu for the universe,” Long Tingyu replied obediently. For some reason, his voice was shaking again, and Qiu Jinrong could only wonder how such a timid intern got through medical school.
Maybe he's just shy around patients...really, what a docile child.
“A dragon pavilion amidst the cosmos,” Qiu Jinrong said out loud. “Good name!” Almost too imposing for his personality, actually.
“I think Jinrong’s name is even better,” the man murmured back.
"Hm?" Too busy feeling his sheets (why are they so soft today?), Qiu Jinrong failed to catch his words. "Did you call me?"
"...don't worry about it," Long Tingyu muttered back as Qiu Jinrong felt him helping to tuck him in. "Sleep well, I'll be here when you wake."
"Mhm," Qiu Jinrong was already nodding off, but remembered in time to ask, "Right, can I get more books?"
The fingers adjusting his quilt stilled. "You want to…read?"
"Audiobooks,," Qiu Jinrong said between another yawn. "Stories I can listen to—if I'm going to be stuck indoors again, I'll need, yawn, more of them to pass the time." He didn't bother explaining where to get them—that information should be part of his medical records too, as a long-term patient in the hospital.
"I can tell you stories," Long Tingyu said quickly. "I know a lot of them."
"Ah? You have so much free time?" Qiu Jinrong wondered. It was a nice idea—he could stand to listen to a different narrator once in a while, but didn't this little intern have tasks of his own to do?
"I have all the time in the world…for you."
"Uh-huh," Qiu Jinrong managed back. His consciousness was already fading, so he let his thoughts drift. "Sure, that sounds…good."
Soon enough, his breathing relaxed into the slow and steady rhythm of the sleeper. The hands fiddling with his quilt paused and withdrew from the bed before convulsively clenching themselves into fists. On a stool by the bed, an imposing man in rich brocade robes of black silk and golden threads sat staring at the figure lying innocently beneath the covers. His violet-hued eyes, known and feared throughout the realm for their rampant cruelty, was caught in a rare moment of confusion as he processed what had just happened.
Qiu Jinrong…had allowed him to touch him. Had let him feed him medicine without struggling, and even smiled at him. Things he'd only dreamed about—actions he had long lost the right to earn, much less feel—were gifted to him one after the other today, with a gentleness he hardly dared to acknowledge for fear this was just another hopeless delusion. He sucked in a breath and leaned back, almost afraid to touch the man sleeping on the bed.
Eight years…
Eight long and bitterly lonely years had passed since he'd locked up this man in his rooms, since Qiu Jinrong had willingly dug out his dantian and faced him with nothing but contempt and cool hatred at their every meeting.
—
