Like a person on the shore watching a drowning Ophelia, he did not save her; instead, he pressed his hand over her face, pushing her deeper beneath the surface until her limbs were tangled in weeds and she succumbed to the depths. But Qi Bailu was never an Ophelia who had slipped in despair. Every time Ruan Qiuji bit him, he bit back; however much force Ruan Qiuji used with his hands, he scratched back with equal ferocity. If they were truly two animals, they likely would have torn away chunks of each other’s fur and the tips of each other’s ears.
Red wine soaked into their bare skin and pooled across the floor. After a brief struggle, Ruan Qiuji looked just as wretched as Qi Bailu. His gaze was cold, his movements devoid of his past care and tenderness. Eventually, he yanked a blanket from the sofa to wipe the wine from Qi Bailu’s body. Ruan Qiuji’s motive was clear: if Qi Bailu had truly done anything with Xue Fang, there would inevitably be marks left behind.
This time, they had fallen into the lake together, two deaf-mute water ghosts sinking into a submerged world. Qi Bailu didn’t remember when the other man had stopped; he only recalled that by the time Ruan Qiuji grew still, the morning sun was already high. Sunlight pierced through the glass, spilling over them. Perhaps because the light was so warm, the body Ruan Qiuji pressed against him felt scorching. He lay on his side on the floor, Ruan Qiuji holding him from behind in a perfunctory embrace.
A cluster of sunlight rested on the bright wooden floor, reflecting slightly like a small, glowing dandelion. Qi Bailu’s hand, resting near his head, brushed toward it and stopped within the light, as if plucking that little dandelion into his palm. In that moment, it felt as though even the frozen marshland had gained a flicker of life.
Ruan Qiuji was behind him, and from his angle, he couldn't see that reflected cluster of light. He only saw Qi Bailu’s limp hand resting there, as if waiting to catch something, or perhaps waiting for someone to pull him up. Ruan Qiuji’s fingers twitched, but in the end, they remained on Qi Bailu’s waist, pulling him into a tighter hold.
When Qi Bailu woke, it was dark. He opened his eyes in the dim room, his exhausted senses struggling to adjust to the gloom. By the faint light from the window, he realized he was half-draped over Ruan Qiuji. One of his hands was still gripped in Ruan Qiuji’s, who lay on the floor with his other arm draped across Qi Bailu’s back.
He hadn't expected them to fall asleep on the floor like that for what must have been over ten hours. He hadn't slept much the night before, and Ruan Qiuji certainly hadn't either. Qi Bailu tried to pull his hand away, but Ruan Qiuji’s grip was tight. After a long struggle, he finally succeeded. Looking at Ruan Qiuji’s blurred, quiet features, he suddenly felt something was wrong.
Qi Bailu remembered his phone was on the coffee table. He pushed himself up into a half-kneeling position and reached for it, his heart beginning to thud violently. Once he found it, he checked the time: it was already eleven at night. Kneeling on the floor, he nudged Ruan Qiuji’s thigh and called his name, but Ruan Qiuji didn't answer. Qi Bailu scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he went to turn on the light. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brilliance.
Shading his eyes from the overhead light with one hand, he froze when he saw Ruan Qiuji clearly. The man lay there motionless, his brow slightly furrowed, his temples long since soaked with sweat. Qi Bailu’s earlier intuition had been right—Ruan Qiuji’s body temperature was wrong.
"Wake up!"
Qi Bailu knelt beside him, testing Ruan Qiuji’s cheek and forehead with his hand. He paused, then placed his fingers against the carotid artery in Ruan Qiuji’s neck.
Feeling the pulse thrumming beneath his touch, Qi Bailu thought blankly: *He’s still alive.* He didn't know why that was his first thought.
At a time like this, Qi Bailu had no leisure to check his unread messages. He scrambled up to find his digital thermometer. Who would have thought Ruan Qiuji would catch a high fever, especially in a scene like this? It was the first time he realized Ruan Qiuji could even get sick. He didn't know how long the fever had been burning, but the heat was terrifying to the touch.
Despite the mountain of new and old grievances between them, everything had to be set aside for now. Qi Bailu didn't even have time to dress properly; he haphazardly grabbed a new T-shirt and pulled it on. The situation was absurd and laughable—his body and hair reeked of the sour scent of red wine and the aftermath of their intimacy.
Ruan Qiuji was in no better state.
After sliding the digital thermometer into Ruan Qiuji’s mouth, Qi Bailu went to the bathroom to wring out two wet towels. When he returned and checked the thermometer, it read 40.2 degrees Celsius. In truth, he knew exactly why Ruan Qiuji had suddenly developed such a high fever. Any normal person who spent the night in a drafty hotel lobby and then slept on a freezing floor for over ten hours would inevitably end up like this. And when Qi Bailu had woken up, he had been clinging to the man like a koala.
Qi Bailu didn't have any fever reducers on hand. Calling his assistant or manager to come over and see Ruan Qiuji like this was out of the question, so he reached for his phone to call the hospital. He had barely dialed the first digit when the phone slipped from his unsteady hand. He picked it up and dialed again, requesting an ambulance.
While waiting for the vehicle to arrive, Qi Bailu wiped Ruan Qiuji’s body down twice with the wet towels. Seeing his body during their struggle was one thing; seeing it now was entirely another. As the towel brushed over the back of Ruan Qiuji’s hand, Qi Bailu started to pull away, but Ruan Qiuji’s fingers clamped around his wrist.
Qi Bailu glanced at him, thinking he had woken up, but Ruan Qiuji was still lost in a deep, feverish sleep. With immense effort, Qi Bailu managed to dress Ruan Qiuji piece by piece and settled him onto a blanket. Only then did he go to clean himself up. Fearing the ambulance would arrive too quickly, he took a three-minute shower and only gave his hair a cursory rub with a towel.
Ruan Qiuji never woke. Qi Bailu intended to take him downstairs to wait, so he patted the man’s face, trying to rouse him. He called his name repeatedly. Perhaps the wet towel on his forehead had helped lower his temperature slightly, as Ruan Qiuji’s eyes fluttered open blearily. He seemed to recognize who was there. Qi Bailu grabbed his arm to help him up and pulled a baseball cap low over Ruan Qiuji’s head. "I'm taking you to the hospital now. Can you stand?"
Ruan Qiuji’s eyelids drifted shut again in exhaustion, but fortunately, he seemed to understand. Using Qi Bailu’s strength, he managed to stand. The process felt longer than waiting for a flower to bloom, but Qi Bailu finally hauled him up. Qi Bailu pulled a bucket hat over his own head and began to move forward, half-dragging and half-carrying Ruan Qiuji. But Ruan Qiuji was far too heavy; the bulk of his weight pressed down on Qi Bailu’s shoulder. It took them a long time just to shuffle out of the room.
Qi Bailu wrapped one of his own scarves around Ruan Qiuji for extra warmth. Several times along the way, one end of the scarf slipped from Ruan Qiuji’s shoulder; once they were in the elevator, Qi Bailu finally had a moment to tie it in a knot. He leaned Ruan Qiuji against the elevator wall and reached out to press the button for the first floor. However, as soon as the elevator moved, Ruan Qiuji slid down the wall into a sitting position. Qi Bailu hooked his arms under the man's, trying to pull him up. Ruan Qiuji seemed to regain a sliver of consciousness, staring at him with hazy, chaotic eyes.
"Hey?" Qi Bailu called softly.
Ruan Qiuji suddenly reacted, reaching out and shoving Qi Bailu away. The force wasn't great, but Qi Bailu was caught off guard and tumbled to the floor. Ruan Qiuji sat there watching him, one hand resting on his knee as if trying to stand on his own. When Qi Bailu reached out to help, he was heartlessly brushed aside again.
But he clearly couldn't stand on his own. Qi Bailu wrapped both arms around him from the front and hauled him up. After two attempts, Qi Bailu was drenched in sweat from the exertion. Once Ruan Qiuji was steady, Qi Bailu looked up and asked, "Do you even know who you are?" Ruan Qiuji’s hat was crooked, his eyes beneath the brim staring straight at Qi Bailu. "Don't make things harder," Qi Bailu muttered.
The elevator descended floor by floor. Suddenly, Ruan Qiuji leaned down and kissed him. Startled, Qi Bailu felt the scorching lips press against his own. A breathy voice whispered, "*Schatz*." To Qi Bailu, it sounded like he was saying "teaspoon," followed by a sentence he didn't understand at all—it sounded like German. Qi Bailu was utterly bewildered, but after speaking, Ruan Qiuji went still again, his weight hanging heavy on Qi Bailu’s shoulder.
Would it have been even a small comfort if he had known that "*Schatz*" meant "darling"?
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
蒲公英 | Dandelion | The title of the chapter, referring to a patch of sunlight.
水鬼 | Water ghost | A ghost of someone who drowned; used metaphorically for the characters' state.
茶匙 | Teaspoon | Phonetic similarity to the German word "Schatz" in the character's perception.
Schatz | Schatz | German for "treasure," "darling," or "sweetheart."
血色罗裙翻酒污 | Blood-red silken skirts stained by overturned wine | A line from Bai Juyi's "Song of the Pipa Player," used here to describe the visual of wine on skin.
