Chapter 94: Shortest Path (9)
94 – Shortest Path (9)
Lin Xun suddenly lost his footing and could only cling to Dong Jun’s shoulders. Startled by being abruptly lifted, he flailed a bit before Dong Jun steadied him.
Then, at Dong Jun’s command, the car door parked nearby opened, and a small silver-white robot slid out. Wheels emerged beneath it as it rolled over. Upon reaching them, the silver disc-like structure transformed, extending two mechanical arms that pushed the shared wheelchair toward the hospital’s designated parking area.
Lin Xun had just been wondering how Dong Jun would return the wheelchair after carrying him—this was perhaps what set Dong Jun apart from others. He had plenty of advanced tech and never needed to handle things manually.
The young woman at the flower shop exclaimed, “Wow.”
Dong Jun turned and carried him toward the car, holding him steadily. Lin Xun glanced back at the girl, who waved goodbye to him.
He waved back, then felt Dong Jun’s grip tighten slightly.
He asked, “Am I heavy?”
Dong Jun replied, “Not at all.”
Lin Xun tentatively traced the muscle lines on Dong Jun’s arm with his right hand. Though separated by layers of clothing, he could still feel their firmness.
Unlike someone like him, who rarely exercised.
Dong Jun said, “Don’t move.”
Lin Xun obediently stayed still. The car door popped open, and he was placed in the passenger seat. Leaning against the backrest, he held the rose he was carrying, feeling a bit nervous.
Dong Jun opened the door on the other side but didn’t start the car. Instead, he looked at Lin Xun.
More precisely, he looked at the beautifully vibrant red rose in Lin Xun’s hand.
Lin Xun met his gaze and blinked.
Dong Jun asked, “Did she give it to you?”
“No,” Lin Xun lifted the flower toward him, pursed his lips, then smiled. “I’m giving it to you.”
Dong Jun seemed to raise an eyebrow slightly but said nothing.
Lin Xun pushed the rose forward again. Dong Jun took it but didn’t let go of his hand, instead bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss before releasing it. He placed the rose aside, started the car, and as he drove, asked, “Where did you fall?”
“At the subway entrance,” Lin Xun couldn’t come up with a plausible reason for the fall and had to admit it was his own carelessness. “I just… slipped.”
Dong Jun asked, “On the stairs?”
Lin Xun replied, “…Yeah.”
Dong Jun continued, “Anywhere else?”
Lin Xun said, “Nowhere else, just there.”
Dong Jun turned the steering wheel left, merging into the main road, then said, “So you went to the hospital alone to get the wheelchair? Did anyone help you?”
The thought of someone hopping from the subway entrance to the hospital alone was too pitiful.
Lin Xun explained, “No, my senior was there at the time—the one studying religious studies that day. He got the wheelchair and pushed me to the hospital.”
Glancing at Dong Jun’s expression, he added, “Then his friend fell somewhere else, so he went to help them. I stayed at the hospital.”
Dong Jun turned to look at him. Lin Xun couldn’t quite gauge his mood, but he seemed gentle enough.
Then Dong Jun asked, “And only then did you remember to call your friend.”
Lin Xun: “…”
He let out a soft grumble.
Dong Jun turned back to focus on driving and said calmly, “Be more careful in the future.”
Lin Xun replied, “I will.”
Dong Jun added, “If you have to go out for something, you can call me to come along. Don’t call other friends.”
After a pause, he continued, “A boyfriend wouldn’t leave you alone in the hospital lobby.”
Lin Xun was momentarily speechless. He felt feverish, his nose tingling slightly, and whispered softly, “I know.”
The car turned a corner, leaving the main road. This street had few vehicles and pedestrians, with exceptionally lush greenery lining the roadside, where magnolia flowers bloomed in dense, snowy white clusters. This was neither a familiar route nor a familiar sight to Lin Xun. Five minutes later, Dong Jun’s car drove into a very elegantly designed private hospital. Lin Xun glanced up at the sign, which seemed to belong to a renowned medical group. Upon entering the lobby, a young doctor in a white coat smiled at him and said, “Go to the third floor.”
Lin Xun was then guided by them and eventually wheeled into a large MRI machine.
He felt he didn’t need to see a doctor.
Even if he did, a simple X-ray to check his bones would have been enough. Why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? Why use an MRI to treat me, wasting medical resources for no reason? There’s even a term for it: overtreatment.
But then again, Dong Jun hadn’t taken him to a public hospital to waste the people’s medical resources, and this entire medical group might very well be under the Galaxy’s name.
As long as Dong Jun was happy.
About ten minutes later, he was escorted back to the waiting room by a pretty nurse, where Dong Jun was waiting for him on the sofa.
The window was large, overlooking a sea of green below. Plane trees and magnolias intertwined, their deep green and snowy white hues blending together. Branches swayed gently and slowly in the breeze, creating a serene atmosphere. This tranquility felt familiar to Lin Xun.
He sat on the sofa, and Dong Jun took his leg. Lin Xun was dressed loosely today, so his pant leg could easily be rolled up, revealing his knee and entire calf.
Lin Xun felt a bit uneasy and reflexively pulled back slightly, only to be tugged back by Dong Jun, who held his ankle.
He whimpered again, saying his ankle hurt too.
Dong Jun looked at him.
He looked at Dong Jun.
Dong Jun lowered his head to examine his leg.
He also looked down at his own leg.
He had a slight genetic advantage, reportedly related to his parents who had passed away when he was young, so his body hair was not very noticeable, appearing quite smooth at first glance. Having seen little sunlight over the past two years, his skin remained relatively fair. Due to today’s bumps or the effects of something called “Purple Dawn Mending Pill,” his leg had taken on an unnatural pinkish hue, with bruises rapidly forming around his knee, starkly conspicuous.
Dong Jun released his ankle and gently rested his fingers on the knee, asking if it hurt badly.
He had asked this several times today, and Lin Xun said it didn’t hurt much.
Dong Jun asked what “not much” meant in terms of pain.
Lin Xun smiled at him and said, “As you can see, I can still maintain a normal expression.”
Dong Jun said his complexion looked a bit off.
Lin Xun replied, “If you keep fussing over me like this, I’ll become spoiled.”
Dong Jun curled the corner of his lips, withdrew his hand, and raised it to smooth Lin Xun’s hair. His gesture was natural, as if it were the most ordinary action, but to Lin Xun, it was anything but. No one had ever expressed concern for him with such intimacy.
Perhaps this was the difference between a boyfriend and a friend.
He realized that he still hadn’t grasped the true nature of this relationship before, or perhaps he had underestimated something—up until now, Dong Jun hadn’t spoken a single harsh word to him. He looked up and met Dong Jun’s gaze, confirming that unless this person was born with such eyes, he was practically drowning in affection for him.
He felt as though he would be drowned, like a flying insect falling into warm water.
“Please mind your behavior,” a smiling young doctor said as he walked in, sitting down across from them with a report in hand.
He clearly listed a series of terms like “soft tissue XX” and “knee joint XX,” concluding that nothing serious had happened, and he could go back to rest properly, returning for a follow-up in five days.
Lin Xun took the report and said thank you.
The doctor’s gaze lingered on his leg until Dong Jun coldly pulled his clothes down.
“Tsk,” the doctor said. “Your little friend’s legs are quite beautiful, textbook-perfect bones and proportions.”
Dong Jun: “So?”
“So if he breaks them next time, please be sure to come to me.”
Lin Xun just watched as the two exchanged glances.
Then he heard Dong Jun say, “There won’t be a next time. I’ll donate to the subway to add anti-slip measures.”
The doctor’s tone was sincere: “No amount of anti-slip measures can stop someone who’s bouncing around. I think once he’s done it once, he’ll do it again.”
Dong Jun’s tone was equally serious: “If there is a next time, his legs will be broken by me because he sneaked out alone.”
“You can hit him harder, no need to hold back,” the doctor said. “I can heal anything.”
Dong Jun: “Thank you for your trouble.”
Lin Xun: “?”
Just a second ago, I was thinking you were such a gentle person, really.