Chapter 20: Incontinence of Tears 5

When Lu Shun burst through the door, He Qiuting’s consciousness had already grown hazy.

He lay collapsed on the floor, body stiff and immobile, mouth numb, fingers curled inward. Only his mind continued processing thoughts at a sluggish pace.

He Qiuting wondered: How did Lu Shun get a key to his apartment?

Hadn’t he returned it long ago when he first moved out…

He Qiuting!!!

In his blurred vision, a tall figure swayed before kneeling frantically before him. He Qiuting heard Lu Shun’s voice growing closer, and at some point, he found himself lifted from the floor and cradled against someone’s chest.

A strong hand supported his sweat-drenched back as Lu Shun stared down at his face. He Qiuting, can you hear me? Look at me!

The lights flicked on, hallway illumination immediately cascading down to reveal his deathly pale face, making the tear tracks around his eyes and cheeks completely visible.

Lu Shun’s gaze trembled as it fixed on those tightly shut eyes, momentarily finding it hard to breathe.

It felt as if his heart were being brutally crushed.

He Qiuting…The frightening redness at the corners of He Qiuting’s eyes and eyelids, his patiently furrowed brows – when he sensed the light, he instinctively turned away, burying his face deeper, lips parted as he gasped rapidly.

Due to breathing difficulties, the veins at his temples and neck bulged grotesquely, pulsing violently beneath thin skin, making Lu Shun’s heart clench with fear.

You’re hyperventilating, He Qiuting, relax!Lu Shun held him against his chest, enveloping the hand that had cramped into a claw-like shape, gently massaging the knuckles to encourage relaxation, yet sensing the other’s faint resistance.

He Qiuting’s lips were turning blue from oxygen deprivation, yet he still suppressed the sobs escaping his throat, managing to utter fragmented words.

Turn… off… the lights…

Don’t… look at me…

He couldn’t bear such naked exposure of his vulnerability in bright lighting, even less endure Lu Shun’s pitying gaze. He’d never been this disgraced before, never allowed himself to reach such a state.

Crying until convulsing before others, losing control over even his breathing…

He Qiuting suddenly regretted reaching out to Lu Shun – better to have died like this than endure this humiliation.

The surroundings abruptly darkened.

Lu Shun had actually turned off the lights for him.

In the darkness, the gasping breaths grew more distinct, silently plucking at both their heartstrings.

With one arm supporting He Qiuting, Lu Shun brought his other hand to gently cover the other’s mouth and nose.

Don’t hide, breathe slowly, it’s alright.

He turned his head away, his distanced voice strangely comforting, channeling all his limited patience toward He Qiuting. I’m not looking at you, don’t panic.

Unable to find a plastic bag, Lu Shun could only use this method to alleviate the hyperventilation symptoms.

He Qiuting lay in his embrace, stiff arms hanging limply at his sides, long legs weakly propped, only his chest heaving violently as he breathed heavily into Lu Shun’s palm.

Lu Shun’s palm grew warm and sensitive, distinctly feeling He Qiuting’s soft lips unconsciously clinging to it, gradually slowing his breathing rhythm with each exhale.

Breathe through your nose, not your mouth.

Lu Shun whispered, voice carrying a barely detectable choke. Relax, He Qiuting…

Only when He Qiuting’s breathing steadied did Lu Shun remove the hand covering his face, then took those stiff, claw-like hands and gently uncurled the originally beautiful, slender fingers.

Don’t be sad, Lu Shun’s hoarse voice came, as if he’d been crying, yet it remained firm and deliberate as always, I didn’t know it would make you this upset.

What you said—I’ll change.

To believe in him, respect him, understand him, rather than possess or control him.

Lu Shun had taken it to heart. He even felt that today, He Qiuting had used his own body to teach him this unforgettable lesson.

He would remember it for the rest of his life.

He Qiuting’s breathing remained somewhat labored. After the struggle, it had completely drained the last of his strength.

He nearly drifted into unconsciousness in Lu Shun’s embrace, only managing a response after a long pause, It’s not because of you.

He Qiuting thought carefully—he didn’t seem to feel much sorrow or pain, yet the tears and physical reactions suggested he should be suffering.

The two didn’t align.

So was he truly in pain, or not?

He Qiuting pressed his lips together, his eyes trembling deeply, realizing he couldn’t answer that question himself.

Perhaps when emotions accumulate to a breaking point, they need to be released once.

He Qiuting’s voice quickly regained its usual calm, though so weak it was barely a whisper, I’m fine now.

The System detected the keyword again and silently administered punishment.

He Qiuting soon felt a new wave of suffocation, plunging his vision into darkness as sharp pain erupted in his lungs.

Yet the next moment, he felt himself lifted—Lu Shun’s strong arms sliding beneath his knees, a firm hand securing his shoulder, executing a swift lifting motion that carried him into the air.

He Qiuting’s heart lurched, dark lashes fluttering as he instinctively reached for support. His hands extended toward Lu Shun’s neck but halted mid-air, finally dropping stiffly to his sides.

Lu Shun glanced down at him, expressionless, only tightening his embrace.

He carried him into the bedroom and laid He Qiuting steadily on the bed.

Thank you.

He Qiuting spoke with formal detachment, the distance palpable.

Limbs limp, hands still numb and senseless, he rested them lightly on his chest, breathing slowly with his head tilted back.

What’s wrong? Lu Shun stood by the bed, looking down at him. Still having trouble breathing?

My chest hurts a bit, He Qiuting said quietly, closing his eyes. Probably from breathing too hard earlier.

He hadn’t lain for half a minute before sitting up again.

What are you doing? Lu Shun watched him alertly.

I want to bathe, He Qiuting said.

After being drenched by rain and battered by wind all day, covered in grime, he felt sticky and uncomfortable all over.

Do you really think you have the strength to bathe in your condition? Lu Shun paused, then suddenly suggested, Why not go to the hospital? I think your health hasn’t been great lately. A check-up would give us peace of mind.

I’m just exhausted. A good sleep will fix it.

He Qiuting looked at him, desperately wanting to drive him away, yet found it difficult to speak up—after all, the other had just helped him. He didn’t want to become the scumbag Lu Shun had described, someone who summoned others at will and cast them aside after use.

Leaning back against the headboard, He Qiuting closed his eyes wearily, unsure of what to say next.

Seeing him silent and frail, Lu Shun felt a pang of pity. He turned and went to the bathroom, fetching a basin of warm water, which he brought to He Qiuting’s bedside.

He dipped a dry towel into the water, soaked it thoroughly, then wrung it out.

The warm towel first landed on He Qiuting’s face, gently wiping across his brows, eyes, nose bridge, and cheeks.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow, and He Qiuting’s eyelashes fluttered slightly as he watched the warm towel move downward along his jawline.

Lu Shun’s thumb unconsciously brushed over the prominent Adam’s apple, pressing lightly, feeling it contract slightly in response.

One by one, the buttons of his shirt were undone.

Lu Shun rinsed the towel again, wrung it dry, and turned back. Starting from the hollow of He Qiuting’s collarbone, he carefully wiped in small circles before moving the towel down the pale skin beneath the shirt collar.

Under the light, faint glistening trails of moisture marked the skin.

When the towel reached the sensitive area of his chest, He Qiuting suddenly raised a hand and grasped Lu Shun’s wrist.

The weak grip seemed almost laughable to Lu Shun—He Qiuting’s palm was sweaty, lacking even the strength to hold on for long.

“Will you take it off yourself, or shall I do it for you?” Lu Shun asked with a dark expression. Without waiting for an answer, he unbuttoned the rest of He Qiuting’s shirt and spread it open.

“I’ll leave once I’m done wiping you down.”

“You’re out of strength now—no need to act tough.”

He Qiuting’s hand slowly fell, and he closed his eyes exhaustedly.

Mm… it felt good.

The towel was warm, wiping away the sticky discomfort on his skin, so soothing it made him drift off.

He Qiuting’s chest and abdomen felt cool to the touch, pale and almost bloodless, only gaining a hint of color after the warm towel passed over.

As he wiped, Lu Shun found the situation absurd.

In all his life, he had never served anyone like this. No one but He Qiuting could make him so meticulous and patient.

What was truly ridiculous was that he didn’t find it bothersome—instead, he was enjoying the process.

He liked seeing He Qiuting lying there motionless, liked his dazed gaze, liked his restrained and awkward flinching, and the sight of his gently rising and falling waist and chest.

He thought he might be going mad.

Or perhaps He Qiuting had cast some spell on him.

Halfway through, He Qiuting’s energy finally gave out completely, and he fell into a deep sleep.

In his slumber, his brows furrowed slightly, and his fingers clenched unconsciously, only to be gently smoothed open by Lu Shun.

Perhaps he was truly exhausted—He Qiuting slept so soundly that he remained unaware even as Lu Shun changed him into pajamas.

After tucking him in and smoothing the blankets, Lu Shun sat by the bed, quietly gazing at the figure lying there.

He reached out, pressing his fingertip gently over the faint crease between He Qiuting’s brows, stroking it with care.

He Qiuting rarely smiled—even when happy, his laughter was reserved and restrained.

Lu Shun had never told him, but even that subtle, restrained smile—he loved seeing it.

He wished for He Qiuting to be happy, free from worries and troubles, able to freely choose the career and life he desired.

After leaving He Qiuting’s bedroom, Lu Shun intended to leave but paused when passing by the study.

By the light from outside, Lu Shun saw numerous pages scattered across the study floor.

The window was slightly ajar, allowing a continuous stream of wind to blow in.

He Qiuting had probably forgotten to close it.

He entered, first shut the window, then bent down to gather the pages one by one. His gaze casually swept over them, noticing some were project reports while others were design blueprints.

After organizing the papers, Lu Shun neatly arranged them on He Qiuting’s desk. His eyes lowered slightly, drawn to a stack of documents in the corner of the desk.

His gaze froze upon them, fingers trembling as they brushed across the pages.

It was actually a blueprint of a football field.

Identical to the pitch from their childhood—even the positions of the streetlights and the species of the greenery were exactly the same. It was meticulously marked with various data and coordinates he couldn’t comprehend.

He flipped further down, revealing dozens of drafts beneath, each with new revisions.

He Qiuting was a Virgo, and every modification made the football field more perfect, closer to the one from his and Lu Shun’s childhood.

Lu Shun’s eyes grew slightly sore. He recalled He Qiuting once asking him what he liked.

Lu Shun hadn’t taken it seriously, answering half-jokingly, Nothing, really. If I had to say, I like playing football.

But it’s a shame—my favorite pitch was torn down by President He to build a skyscraper.

At the time, He Qiuting had merely smiled faintly, retorting with mild sarcasm, With those old bones of yours, can you even still kick a ball?

Holding his breath, Lu Shun continued flipping.

Beneath the blueprints was a blank sheet of paper, separating what lay below.

He lifted the blank page.

And saw the debt guarantee chain for the Lu Corporation’s high-leverage project, along with a report on tax loopholes.

Lu Shun stood frozen, seemingly understanding the significance of that blank sheet.

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