He Qiuting pressed his hand firmly against his stomach, pushing deep in an attempt to counteract the relentless churning pain with external force. Instead of easing, it only brought waves of nausea surging up his throat.

His throat convulsed violently, accompanied by uncontrollable tightening of his breath, sending He Qiuting into a sudden fit of coughing.

He loosened his tie, braced himself against the edge of the sink, and struggled to straighten up, then wiped his face roughly.

The moment he looked up into the mirror, He Qiuting froze, startled by his own reflection.

His gaze trembled.

So ugly.

A pale, lifeless face, with reddened corners of the eyes and the tip of the nose, and the corners of his colorless lips stained with a messy trail of moisture…

Looking down, his shirt and suit jacket were soaked with dark, spreading water stains. The shirt was crumpled from his grip, tangled with his crooked tie, creating a disheveled mess.

When had he ever been this pathetic?

He Qiuting closed his eyes, adjusting his breathing rhythm in an attempt to regain his physical and mental balance, but his mind flashed through the chaotic, absurd events of his day like a revolving lantern.

Breakup, asthma, stomach issues, unknown system, missed negotiation…

“He Qiuting?”

Outside the door, Lu Shun’s voice was clearly tinged with irritation as he raised his voice, “Did you throw up? Is your stomach acting up again? Huh?”

He banged on the door impatiently, jiggling the handle back and forth, his patience wearing thin, “Open the door, open up, He Qiuting!”

…

Suddenly, there was no sound from inside. Lu Shun’s heart sank heavily. He released the handle, took two steps back, and without hesitation, lifted his leg and kicked hard at the lock.

Bang

The door shook violently, glass decorations shattering and scattering across the floor, but the bolt still didn’t release.

The kick had been too forceful; combined with his lack of energy from fasting, Lu Shun’s vision went black for a moment before he could see clearly again.

Damn it.

He cursed inwardly, shook his head, tightened the muscles in his right leg, and prepared to try again, just as he was about to exert force

Click. The lock turned from the inside.

“Shit…”

Lu Shun couldn’t retract his momentum in time, stumbling forward. Just as his knees were about to hit the shattered glass on the floor, a hand suddenly reached out and caught him.

He Qiuting’s movement was gentle, even slightly trembling, as if mustering strength from intense pain, yet his grip was precise, landing right at the crook of Lu Shun’s elbow. With a lift, he managed to steady Lu Shun’s off-balance body.

The moment Lu Shun regained his footing, He Qiuting had already released his hand. He turned and walked toward the living room, as if the assistance had been nothing more than a casual gesture, not worth overthinking or dwelling on.

Lu Shun hurried after him.

He Qiuting reached the sofa, his body swaying slightly before he slowly sat down, supporting himself on the armrest. He lifted a hand to rub his stomach.

Watching this, Lu Shun turned silently and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of warm water. After testing the temperature, he brought it to He Qiuting, opening his palm to reveal a tablet of stomach medicine. “Take this.”

He Qiuting was breathing with difficulty, slowly lifting his gaze to give Lu Shun an ambiguous look.

The pain in his stomach hadn’t subsided, and now the familiar sense of suffocation returned the precursor to an attack, no different from what had happened on the plane.

Seven hours later, it had truly come to pass…

“What are you looking at.” Lu Shun’s tone was cold, carrying an undeniable authority. “Take your medicine quickly. I need to go.”

He Qiuting leaned back against the sofa, his sweat-dampened neck taut, the skin above his collarbone flushed an abnormal red. He struggled to swallow twice, and when he opened his mouth, no words came out only a hoarse, wheezing sound escaped.

The sound made Lu Shun freeze in terror.

“He Qiuting…” Fear gripped him as he hastily set the medicine and water glass aside, helping the man up from the sofa. His words stumbled. “No… you… what’s wrong with you?”

He Qiuting’s breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving with increasing intensity, yet it seemed he couldn’t draw in any air. Each breath shook his entire body uncontrollably. He tilted his head back in agony, his usually restrained and calm eyes tightly shut, the veins at his temples bulging alarmingly.

“Hah… hah… hah…”

“He Qiuting!” Lu Shun supported He Qiuting’s back with his arm, watching as the other’s chest caved inward with each labored breath, realizing abruptly how critical the situation had become.

His eyes reddened with panic. While rubbing He Qiuting’s chest, he fumbled for his phone, fingers trembling as he prepared to dial for emergency help. “Hold on, I’m calling for an ambulance now…”

He Qiuting couldn’t hear him clearly.

Lack of oxygen blurred his vision, made his eardrums swell, and filled his chest with chaotic heartbeats and sharp, wheezing sounds overlapping incessantly.

He was suffocating…

“Hn…” He Qiuting clenched his teeth, his fingers unconsciously gripping Lu Shun’s sleeve.

Beep-beep

The system emitted a prompt.

[True love target detected nearby. Host, please seek assistance from him.]

He Qiuting pressed his lips together and remained silent. He despised being controlled by anything and stubbornly refused to comply.

[Host has taken no action. Bronchospasm worsening.]

[Friendly reminder: When this system activates, symptoms are accompanied by real organic damage. Failure to treat promptly carries a risk of death!]

“Medicine.”

He Qiuting finally managed a single word, weakly grabbing Lu Shun’s phone-hand and tugging it down feebly to stop him. “In my pocket… help me.”

His palm was cold and damp, sending a chill through Lu Shun’s heart.

Lu Shun immediately retrieved the medicine from his suit pocket, his gaze sharpening as he recognized it a brand-new Salbutamol inhaler.

For asthma.

Lu Shun’s pupils shook in shock.

Since when did He Qiuting have asthma?

He Qiuting has asthma!?

He had no time to dwell on it. Quickly unwrapping the aerosol, he skimmed the instructions, shook the inhaler well, and brought the mouthpiece to He Qiuting’s lips.

“Hold it in your mouth.” Lu Shun’s voice nearly broke with emotion as he cupped He Qiuting’s jaw, guiding him to open his mouth. “It’s okay, relax. Breathe in slowly.”

“Breathe… don’t rush… take it slow…”

With his eyes closed, He Qiuting followed Lu Shun’s guidance, laboriously inhaling a dose of the medication. He felt the medicine flow into his constricted airways, gradually easing the spasms.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his breathing remained unsteady, but at least he could grasp a sliver of relief.

He took another inhalation…

The suffocating sensation slowly faded, and Lu Shun’s face gradually emerged from the dark haze.

That face, always composed and teasingly indifferent, was now strained tightly, every line etched with tension.

Lu Shun frowned, his eyes dark and intimidating, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably as he visibly suppressed an emotion on the verge of eruption.

“He Qiuting.”

When their eyes met, He Qiuting clearly saw a glimmer of moisture in his gaze, quickly replaced by blazing anger.

With a cold expression, Lu Shun questioned him, “You have asthma?”

“President He.” He was trembling with fear, his teeth chattering as he spoke, yet he forced a casual, mocking laugh. “We’ve known each other for almost twenty years, and it’s only today that I found out you have asthma.”

He Qiuting’s mind went blank for a moment. He wanted to say that he, too, had only just found out today.

“Does Li Feng know?” Lu Shun asked.

He Qiuting had no energy left and didn’t want to say much, so he simply nodded.

“Fine.” Lu Shun let out a bitter laugh. After a few seconds of silence, his tone suddenly turned sharp and sarcastic. “As long as your attending physician knows, that’s enough. I’m not a doctor anyway, so it’s really not my place to worry.”

As he spoke, his fingers clenched tightly into fists inside his sleeves, emitting a faint, grating sound.

He Qiuting hadn’t even told him about having asthma his private doctor knew, but Lu Shun himself was kept in the dark?

Did He Qiuting truly see him as nothing more than a business rival? So much so that even sharing a bed, he had to guard against him, afraid of revealing his weakness?

Fine. Just fine.

“Thank you, President Lu.” He Qiuting blinked wearily, his voice weak but his edge undiminished. “For taking time out of your busy schedule to save my life.”

The implication was clear, and Lu Shun understood it perfectly. Without hesitation, he retorted, “Your high-profile land acquisitions were too conspicuous. You’ve already drawn attention. If I hadn’t shorted you, someone else would have.”

“I’m different from others.” He paused, his tone serious. “At least the money I make might one day be spent on you. Others wouldn’t.”

He Qiuting curved his lips into a faint smile, rolled his eyes, and thought his pretty words were no different from empty air. Without changing his expression, he issued a warning: “Then be prepared to face forced liquidation.”

Gurgle

He Qiuting’s stomach chose that moment to let out an untimely rumble, starkly out of place in the tense atmosphere.

The air froze for a moment.

Gurgle gurgle

Lu Shun’s brow twitched slightly, his gaze slowly drifting downward to rest on He Qiuting’s abdomen.

He Qiuting tightened his jaw, feeling his cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment. His imposing demeanor subtly weakened. “What are you looking at?”

“President He hasn’t eaten all day, has he?” Lu Shun scoffed, quickly shifting his thoughts away from their earlier estrangement and confrontation. “I’ve told you many times your stomach is weak, you need regular meals. And now, on top of that, you have asthma…”

Come to think of it, Lu Shun didn’t know much about asthma how it was treated or what precautions were necessary.

His eyes darkened as he glanced at He Qiuting. “Wait here.”

With that, he turned and headed into the kitchen.

He Qiuting leaned back on the sofa, his energy mostly depleted, his head dizzy, and even the frequency of his blinks slowing down.

From the kitchen came the clattering of pots and pans, occasionally punctuated by Lu Shun’s low, rough curses frustrated and irritable, as if he’d knocked something over again.

When Lu Shun was abroad, he’d occasionally get the urge to cook for himself, but since returning to China and having a housekeeper, he hadn’t set foot in the kitchen.

His movements were quite clumsy, and he spent a long time figuring out how to turn on the stove. Yet he still fumbled around in the kitchen for quite a while before managing to cook a pot of vegetable and lean pork congee.

He Qiuting was so drowsy he could barely keep his eyes open. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he saw Lu Shun come out holding a bowl of congee.

Lu Shun set the bowl down on the coffee table with a thud. The congee sloshed slightly, nearly spilling over.

“Eat.”

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