Chapter 16: It Turns Out It’s Different
Taking the prescription, Wen Ling folded the paper and put it in his pocket, put on a mask, and took a taxi to the pharmacy.
He rarely went out, hated going out, hated crowds, and hated noisy places.
But Cheng Ge had said things online might be fake and told him to distinguish carefully when buying groceries.
He was afraid of buying fake medicine too, so he wanted to go to the pharmacy to buy it.
The doctor prescribed traditional Chinese medicine, which needed to be decocted. But he wasn’t very good at using those tools and got scalded several times just boiling medicine.
The medicine was ready. Wen Ling helped Cheng Ge up, the spoon pressed against his lips, but he couldn’t pry open Cheng Ge’s mouth no matter what.
Whatever was fed in flowed out again.
Wen Ling hurriedly took a tissue to wipe the medicinal liquid off Cheng Ge’s chin, frowning unconsciously, a bit anxious.
Wen Ling recalled what Cheng Ge said when he refused to take medicine back then, imitating him, “Open your mouth, take the medicine.”
But Cheng Ge ignored him.
Too disobedient.
“If you don’t drink the medicine, I’ll turn you into a specimen.” But obviously, threats were useless, and Wen Ling didn’t dare touch any part of Cheng Ge anymore.
People are very fragile.
Finally, having no choice, Wen Ling broke the jar and drank a mouthful of medicine himself, leaning over to transfer it into Cheng Ge’s mouth.
He didn’t know why he knew this method himself. Most importantly, it succeeded; only two drops spilled.
Wen Ling sighed in relief and transferred two more times. The medicine in the bowl finally bottomed out.
In the evening, Wen Ling ordered takeout and sat by Cheng Ge’s bed to eat.
Actually, he hadn’t ordered takeout for a long time; it was all food cooked by Cheng Ge.
Sometimes there would be afternoon tea and late-night snacks—that was what Cheng Ge told him they were called.
He didn’t want to eat either, and he always had no concept of meal times. Eat when he wanted, starve when he didn’t. But Cheng Ge said three meals a day must be eaten, and eaten on time, otherwise it’s bad for the stomach.
He didn’t know how bad it was for the stomach; he had always been like that. But since Cheng Ge said so, he reluctantly listened a bit.
At night, after showering and washing his hair, Wen Ling took the hair dryer to blow his hair. His hands and feet were clumsy, and he accidentally scalded himself several times.
Actually, he didn’t blow dry his hair before; he waited for it to dry naturally or slept with it wet.
One day he was faking sleep. Cheng Ge finished blowing his own hair, then blew his hair too. Only after that day did he know that blowing hair was very comfortable.
Later, one day, Cheng Ge finished blowing his hair, suddenly glared at him fiercely, then pulled him over to blow his hair. The wind noise was too loud; he only heard Cheng Ge say something like “headache,” and didn’t hear the rest clearly.
Wen Ling really liked the feeling of Cheng Ge helping him blow his hair. It was especially comfortable when Cheng Ge’s hands touched his hair to blow it.
But it turned out blowing it himself was different. Scalding to death.
Sleeping at night, Wen Ling lay next to Cheng Ge. Cheng Ge didn’t hug him actively, so he hugged Cheng Ge’s waist, but it felt different from before.
Cheng Ge’s heartbeat was a bit slower, his body temperature a bit cool. Clearly, Cheng Ge’s body was hot before; why was it so cool now?
On the first day of Cheng Ge’s coma, Wen Ling discovered some subtle differences in life, but he could still accept them.
Wen Ling was even thinking, if Cheng Ge couldn’t wake up anymore, he would really turn him into a specimen. That way, Cheng Ge could still stay with him forever, wouldn’t scold him, and wouldn’t keep looking at a bird.
Waking up the next morning, Wen Ling felt hot all over, but his hands and feet were icy. His head was heavy and dizzy. According to Cheng Ge, he had a fever.
Wen Ling often had low fevers, but he couldn’t feel it himself. It was always Cheng Ge who discovered his face and ears were red and his mental state was wrong before making him take medicine.
Later, he directly told Wen Ling to buy a smart forehead thermometer himself, telling him to measure it when he felt dizzy or sleepy.
Wen Ling took it from the bedside cabinet, beeped it, 38.4℃. Wen Ling got an ibuprofen sustained-release capsule to eat. Generally, in this temperature range, Cheng Ge would give him fever-reducing medicine.
Cheng Ge would also take a cool towel to apply to his forehead. At that time, Cheng Ge told him to buy fever cooling patches himself, but Wen Ling liked Cheng Ge applying the towel to his forehead, so he didn’t buy them. Now he was too lazy to apply the towel himself.
When washing up, Wen Ling found the place scalded yesterday had blistered and was a bit painful, but it was nothing big, so he finished washing up neatly.
Preparing to feed Cheng Ge nutrient solution, Wen Ling first tried feeding directly and found Cheng Ge could swallow. No need to use his mouth to transfer anymore. He felt this was a sign that Cheng Ge had gotten a little better.
After feeding Cheng Ge, Wen Ling went to make breakfast. He wanted to make egg and vegetable noodle soup, but in the end, he put too little water, and the poached egg was completely broken, becoming a sticky thing that was neither porridge nor noodles.
Wen Ling carried the noodles to Cheng Ge’s bedside, lowered his head, and ate quietly.
After barely eating a few mouthfuls, Wen Ling couldn’t eat anymore.
He looked at Cheng Ge’s face and muttered: “Not tasty, I don’t like it.”
Cheng Ge didn’t answer him. He continued: “So awful.”
“Cheng Ge… I want to eat egg and vegetable noodle soup…”
Unfortunately, now he couldn’t eat it no matter what.
Washing the bowl, Wen Ling climbed back onto the bed and stuck to Cheng Ge. He felt cold and hot inside, but whether cold or hot, he couldn’t get a tiny bit of warmth from Cheng Ge.
Maybe because of the fever, he slept groggily for a long time. Actually, he didn’t completely fall asleep. He closed his eyes for a while, then got up to check Cheng Ge’s condition, and every time continued to close his eyes in disappointment.
Getting up in the afternoon to boil medicine for Cheng Ge, when feeding the medicine, Wen Ling tested the temperature but tasted bitterness. Clearly, he didn’t think so yesterday.
After showering, Wen Ling lay on the bed, burying his face in Cheng Ge’s chest. Just as he was about to fall asleep, his stomach hurt a bit, and he remembered he forgot to eat both lunch and dinner.
Very strange. Before, Wen Ling’s stomach often felt uncomfortable and he would vomit, but he didn’t feel anything, having gotten used to it, and didn’t feel pain.
But Cheng Ge told him that was stomach pain and would rub it for him. Cheng Ge said rubbing it would make it better. Wen Ling felt he was talking nonsense and just liked the feeling of having his stomach rubbed, so he didn’t expose him.
Now no one rubbed his stomach for him, yet he really started to feel stomach pain.
Wen Ling grabbed Cheng Ge’s palm and placed it on his stomach, but Cheng Ge’s palm was no longer warm and wouldn’t rub his stomach for him.
“Cheng Ge… my stomach hurts…”
“Hand also hurts…”
“…Heart feels so terrible… Why?”
Wen Ling thought, if Cheng Ge could speak now, then he would know the answer. Whatever he asked, Cheng Ge would answer.
On the second day of Cheng Ge’s coma, Wen Ling realized his body seemed to have become sensitive and fragile. Why did it hurt everywhere? Why was the medicine so bitter?
He seemed to truly know what tasted awful, what feeling terrible was like, what having a fever was like, and realized that stifled feeling might be sadness.
He was very sad, and very afraid.
But Wen Ling didn’t know what he was afraid of. Clearly, Cheng Ge was always by his side. Clearly, Cheng Ge would still stay with him forever.
Wen Ling had a dream in the middle of the night. He dreamed Cheng Ge woke up and was willing to talk to him, asking him why he didn’t eat, why he didn’t apply a towel to his forehead, why he was so careless to scald his hand.
“I don’t know,” Wen Ling answered, then touched his heart, his tone somewhat complaining. “You didn’t talk to me for two days… It feels stifled here, so terrible.”
Cheng Ge opened his arms to him, “Then hug, a hug will make it better.”
Wen Ling didn’t hesitate at all, throwing himself into Cheng Ge’s warm embrace, and then the dream woke up.
The embrace was icy cold.
Wen Ling looked at Cheng Ge, blinking his eyes very slowly, muttering: “Cheng Ge? Cheng Ge…”
It turns out it’s different. He doesn’t want a Cheng Ge who can’t speak, can’t move, and has no temperature. He wants the original Cheng Ge…
He made a mistake…
Wen Ling hugged Cheng Ge’s waist tightly, face pressed against Cheng Ge’s chest, listening to Cheng Ge’s steady heartbeat, his tone very aggrieved: “I beg you, wake up…”
“I’m so sad…”
Recommended Reads
![[ABO] President Shou Is Not a Total Shou](https://beereads.space/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/the-shou-is-not-a-total-shou-214x300.jpg)
