Lù Xīngcí's house was at the east end of town, a two-story building with a small yard. A few potted green plants were arranged in the yard, making it look clean and cozy.
"Come in, have a seat anywhere," Lù Xīngcí pushed open the yard gate and stepped aside to let Wēn Jǐngrán in. "There's a guest room upstairs. You can stay there for now. I'll go find you a quilt."
Wēn Jǐngrán stood in the yard, looking around somewhat awkwardly. This house was completely different from the Wēn Family's grand estate in his memory. There were no carved beams and painted pillars, no pavilions or towers, yet it was neatly organized, exuding a sense of domestic warmth.
"Thank you," he said softly, following Lù Xīngcí into the house.
The first floor consisted of the living room and kitchen. The furniture was simple. Several photos hung on the wall – Lù Xīngcí posing with a middle-aged couple, presumably his parents. The guest room upstairs was not large but very clean. It had a single bed, a wardrobe, and a window through which sunlight streamed in.
"Rest here for a bit. I'll go make something to eat. " Lù Xīngcí placed his backpack by the bed and turned to go downstairs.
Wēn Jǐngrán sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the sky outside the window, his mind feeling a little hazy. In just a few short days, he had gone from that cold, desolate cave to this warm room, and for the time being, he even had a "home."
He retrieved the Basic Survival Toolkit from his system space – a palm-sized black pouch containing a silver "flashlight" (he pressed a button as instructed by the system, and it lit up, startling him so much he quickly turned it off), a foldable knife, and several packets of "Compressed Biscuits" wrapped in transparent paper.
He picked up a Compressed Biscuit, unwrapped it, and took a bite. The taste was very bland, a little dry, but it was indeed filling.
Perhaps, he could really stay here and rest, recovering from his injuries before deciding anything else.
However, this sense of peace did not last long.
In the evening, Wēn Jǐngrán suddenly felt a wave of sharp, agonizing pain in his abdomen, more severe than any previous episode. He curled up on the bed, cold sweat pouring down his face, the pain so intense he could barely speak.
Was the wound inflamed? Or had he eaten something unsanitary?
He didn't know, only feeling his internal organs churning and his vision dimming intermittently. He wanted to cry out for help but couldn't make a sound, only grit his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain.
Just as he was about to lose consciousness, he fumbled and found his phone in his pocket.
Lù Xīngcí...
He remembered the young man's words: "Press this green button, and it will call me directly. You can reach out to me for anything."
Yes, reach out to him!
Wēn Jǐngrán tremblingly took out his phone. His fingertips, weakened by pain and nervousness, could barely grip the small, thin device. He lit up the screen, looked at the numeric keypad, his mind a jumble. The dialing steps he had learned in the virtual space were completely forgotten.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Following the number for Lù Xīngcí from memory, he dialed one digit at a time.
His fingers shook violently, and he pressed the wrong key several times. He had to delete and re-enter.
The first time, he pressed the last digit incorrectly. The call went through, rang a few times, and then disconnected automatically because no one answered.
Wēn Jǐngrán's heart sank. The pain in his abdomen made his vision blacken. He gritted his teeth and re-entered the number.
The second time, his finger slipped, and he pressed the wrong digit in the middle. When the call was connected, a strange woman's voice answered, "Hello? Who is this?"
Startled, he quickly hung up, his heart pounding.
For the third time, he used almost all his strength, staring at the screen, confirming each digit one by one. He finally entered all the numbers and pressed the green call button.
"Beep... beep..."
The dialing tone sounded in his ears, each beep hitting his heart like a hammer.
The fingers holding the phone turned white from the strain. His lips were pressed tightly together, and the pain was so severe he almost fainted.
"Hello?"
Lù Xīngcí's voice came from the other end of the line, tinged with a hint of confusion, yet carrying that familiar clarity.
The moment he heard that voice, the tension in Wēn Jǐngrán's nerves snapped. All the pain, fear, and grievances surged up. He opened his mouth, wanting to say "Young Master Lù," but felt it inappropriate. He wanted to explain that he was unwell but found his throat seemingly blocked, unable to utter a single word.
Finally, all that escaped was a suppressed groan, laden with unconcealable agony.
"Is that you? Sū Qīngyuán?" Lù Xīngcí's voice immediately became tense. "What's wrong? Is something happening?"
Wēn Jǐngrán could hear movement on the other end of the line, apparently Lù Xīngcí running, and the sound of something falling.
"I... I..." He tried hard to speak, but the severe abdominal pain made it difficult even to breathe. He could only squeeze out a few broken words, "I... don't feel well..."
"Where do you feel unwell? Are you at my place? I'll be right back!" Lù Xīngcí's voice was urgent and concerned. "Hold on, I'll be there soon!"
"Mhm..." Wēn Jǐngrán managed a sound, then could no longer hold on. The phone slipped from his hand and fell onto the bed, the screen still lit, displaying the call interface.
He curled up on the bed, his consciousness gradually blurring. He only felt the pain in his abdomen intensifying, as if something was tearing him apart from the inside.
After an unknown amount of time, he heard the sound of the door rapidly opening and footsteps ascending.
"Sū Qīngyuán!"
Lù Xīngcí's voice rang out from the doorway, clearly panicked.
He rushed to the bedside and saw Wēn Jǐngrán curled up on the bed, pale, drenched in cold sweat. His heart clenched. He reached out and touched Wēn Jǐngrán's forehead; it was frighteningly hot.
"You have a fever!" Lù Xīngcí was extremely anxious. "Is the wound inflamed? I'll take you to the clinic!"
He wanted to pick up Wēn Jǐngrán but was afraid of hurting her wound. He could only carefully help her sit up halfway. "Can you walk? I'll help you to the hospital."
Wēn Jǐngrán groggily opened his eyes and saw Lù Xīngcí's anxious face. A surge of warmth suddenly welled up in his heart.
In this unfamiliar world, someone was actually so flustered and concerned about his discomfort.
This feeling was strange, yet very warm.
It was far more genuine than the insincere concern he sometimes received at the Wēn Family home.
He nodded weakly, leaning into Lù Xīngcí's embrace, letting him help him off the bed.
"Don't be afraid. We're going to the hospital, and you'll be fine soon," Lù Xīngcí's voice sounded in his ear, comforting him.
Wēn Jǐngrán closed his eyes and gently rested his head on the young man's shoulder.
His abdomen still hurt, and he felt dizzy, but the fear in his heart inexplicably lessened.
Perhaps, having someone to rely on wasn't so bad.
At least, at this moment, he was no longer alone.
Lù Xīngcí supported Wēn Jǐngrán and quickly went downstairs, heading towards the clinic in town. The afterglow of the sunset fell upon them, stretching their shadows long, long.
The phone still glowed on the bed. The call had long ended, and the screen was frozen on the call duration: 1 minute 23 seconds.
It was the first time Wēn Jǐngrán had voluntarily dialed this number, and the first time he had so truly felt the taste of being cared for.