Chapter 69: Frenzied Heartbeat

That day, their conversation was brief, lasting only a dozen minutes or so, and for the most part, it was he who did all the talking.

Yet the call did not end right away.

He asked, “Are you sleepy now?”

“A little.”

How could she possibly feel drowsy while talking to him? If anything, she felt more awake. This was something she hadn’t expected herself.

It seemed he hadn’t expected it either.

“I thought after talking so much, you’d be sleepy by now.”

While she was at a loss for words, he spoke again, “Shall I find a radio broadcast for us to listen to together?”

“All right.”

Late-night radio had many programs meant to lull people to sleep.

“Lie down nicely, and if you get tired, just go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

She did as told.

“Take off your hearing aids, so you won’t feel uncomfortable when you fall asleep. I’ll turn up the volume on my end.”

“Okay.” This time, she replied, but did not comply, afraid she might miss the sound of his voice.

The broadcast began. He asked, “Can you hear clearly?”

She instinctively wanted to reply, but remembered she hadn’t removed her hearing aids, and forcibly held back her voice.

As expected, when he didn’t hear her answer, the volume of the radio on his side was turned up much louder, forcing her to lower the volume on her side.

She couldn’t tell whether it was the effect of the broadcast or simply the comfort of Qin Yu’s company, but soon drowsiness crept over her, her eyelids growing heavy.

Just as she was drifting into sleep, a listener called into the radio station and requested a song.

It was Deserts Chang’s “Baby.” The host teased that it was the perfect lullaby for the program.

When the music began, she didn’t pay much attention, her mind already adrift. What reached her ears even more clearly was his breathing.

Though it was faint behind the static of the radio, she still picked it out, each breath as clear as if he were right beside her.

Halfway through the song, her eyes had closed. She was about to tell him she was sleepy when suddenly, his voice mingled with the music, drifting through the call...

At the first line, her eyes flew open, thinking she must be dreaming.

Not until the second line, sung in a deep, gentle voice slower than the original, did she realize it was real—his voice was so clear, as if he were by her ear, singing softly.

By the third line, he suddenly chuckled, “Lin Xi.”

“Ah?” She was so startled, she answered him aloud.

“Knew you wouldn’t listen.”

He meant she hadn’t taken off her hearing aids.

“Why didn’t you?”

He wasn’t scolding her—his tone was indulgent, with a touch of helplessness.

“If I took them off, I wouldn’t be able to hear you sing.” She stammered for a while before finally finishing her sentence, then asked how he knew.

“Earlier, I could tell by your breathing you were almost asleep. Then all of a sudden, it went all erratic.”

“!”

He laughed. “See? Now it’s even more chaotic.”

“…”

“I meant to lull you to sleep, but I didn’t expect singing would have this effect.”

“N-no, it worked!” she hurried to assure him.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“All right then, let me finish the song, and then you’ll take them off and sleep, okay?”

“…Okay.”

The music on the radio had already ended. He told her to wait a moment; he needed to look up the song.

“My darling, darling, here’s something sweet for you, may you sleep soundly tonight.
My darling, when you’re lonely, there’ll be someone thinking of you—
My darling, you should know you’re the most beautiful.”

She dared not interrupt, listening as he repeated those simple lyrics over and over. Somehow, these simple words made her ears flush red, though no one but her would ever know.

So it was that, on countless solitary nights afterwards, she would find herself returning to this memory—her own silent, secret infatuation.

—

“Lin Xi?”

Qin Yu called her name softly twice, but there was no response.

He turned up the desk lamp, leaning to look at the figure in the center of the bed.

Lin Xi was lying slightly on her side, eyes closed, already deeply asleep. Qin Yu exhaled silently, his lips curving in relief.

“Troublemaker.”

His tone was exasperated, but the adoration in his gaze seemed to overflow as he looked at her.

He gently eased her to lie flat, tucked the covers around her, then dimmed the lamp and resumed his seat, keeping watch over the IV.

Worried for her comfort, he’d slowed the drip earlier; there was still half a bottle left, so it would take a while yet.

Gazing at her sleeping face, Qin Yu felt a little lost in thought.

The last time there was a moment as tranquil as this, it must have been seven years ago.

Now, if she weren’t ill, he would have no right to spend the night at her side.

If it had been earlier, she would have sent him away as soon as he tried to lull her to sleep.

She used to love hearing him sing that song, but now, if she heard it while awake, she would truly be angry.

For Lin Xi, those days were now a forbidden past, locked away behind an unbreakable door—no one could enter, nor should anyone try to open it.

Least of all, someone like him, who’d been part of it.

Thinking of this, Qin Yu turned the sandalwood prayer beads in his hand, his thumb pressing over each bead with deliberate weight. Yet his expression remained unchanged, his face calm as still water.

—

When Lin Xi awoke again, it was already ten in the morning.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw the man sitting on the chair by her bed.

So it wasn’t a dream after all.

He was truly here.

She paused for a couple of seconds, clearing her head a little, and quietly studied the man across from her.

Qin Yu seemed not to have moved at all, as if he’d held that position all night—the same as the image in her mind from last night, sitting upright on the chair.

Because all the elders in their family were military men, the boys in the compound had always been strictly disciplined since childhood. Especially Grandpa Qin—he was particularly tough with Qin Yu. So Qin Yu had grown up under the rigors of military discipline.

His posture was always upright, whether sitting or standing, his back straight as a board. Sleeping like that must have been incredibly uncomfortable.

Lin Xi couldn’t imagine him keeping that posture the entire night.

She wanted to speak, but after some hesitation, decided to sleep a bit longer.

Even though it was already nearly noon, he probably hadn’t slept until very late.

She lifted the covers and rose, heading for the bathroom.

As soon as her feet touched the slippers on the floor, a faint scraping sound was made. It wasn’t loud, so she thought nothing of it.

But the man across from her heard. His eyelashes quivered. Lin Xi realized too late what was happening.

The next second, Qin Yu opened his eyes. Looking up at her, his gaze was still cloudy with sleep. “You’re up early.”

His voice was hoarse.

Lin Xi nodded, then shook her head. “Not early, it’s already ten o’clock.”

After speaking, she bent to put on her slippers. “Sorry to trouble you last night, Third Brother. Did you not sleep at all?”

“I slept, just dozed off again a moment ago. Come on, there’s porridge warming in the kitchen.”

As he stood, he suddenly swayed.

“Qin Yu!” Lin Xi was startled and rushed to steady him.

But her fingers accidentally caught on the prayer beads at his wrist. With an unintentional tug, the string snapped, and the beads scattered across the floor with a clatter.

(End of chapter)