Everyone Hates My Frail Body.

Chapter 49: Frail Body

Chapter 49: Frail Body

Song Qie felt a hand rubbing his stomach, a sensation that was both comfortable and slightly ticklish.

He woke up, blinking against the soft fluorescent light of the hospital room.

“…”

“Woke up?” Lu Beihuai’s voice, low and gentle, broke through the haze of sleep.

As Song Qie slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the familiar hospital environment—a place he never wanted to find himself in again. Then his gaze fell on Lu Beihuai, whose handsome face was just inches away. Anxiety danced in those dark eyes, concern etched into his features.

Memories of the previous night flooded back: the overwhelming pain, the sudden inability to breathe, the dizzying darkness. He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of how close he had come to losing consciousness. Was it the wine he had sipped, or something more?

“Do you want to poop?” Lu Beihuai asked, his brow furrowing slightly, breaking into Song Qie’s thoughts.

Song Qie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What kind of greeting is that?” he muttered, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over him. He quickly shut his eyes again, desperately wishing to escape this moment.

Please don’t let it be about constipation.

Seeing Song Qie close his eyes and turn red, Lu Beihuai couldn’t help but chuckle softly, an affectionate glint in his eyes. “The doctor said it was a relapse caused by a sudden fever. He also mentioned there’s a chance it’s due to constipation,” he explained, trying to keep his tone light. “He advised you not to strain too much when you go to the toilet and to adjust your diet.”

Song Qie pulled the quilt up, wishing he could hide his flushed face completely. “Can we not talk about this?” he mumbled, mortified.

Lu Beihuai, however, wasn’t easily deterred. He sat back on the edge of the bed, his expression shifting from amusement to something more serious. “You really scared me, you know. I thought... I thought I was going to lose you.”

The gravity of those words pierced through Song Qie’s embarrassment, replacing it with a sense of warmth and vulnerability. He peeked out from under the covers, meeting Lu Beihuai’s gaze, which was now soft and earnest.

“Sorry,” Song Qie said quietly, guilt washing over him. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Lu Beihuai shook his head, his eyes never leaving Song Qie’s. “Just promise me you’ll take better care of yourself. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”

Song Qie nodded slowly, the sincerity in Lu Beihuai’s voice resonating deeply within him. “I promise.”

The moment hung between them, filled with an unspoken understanding of their bond—their shared fears, and the fragility of life. The intimacy of the moment made Song Qie acutely aware of Lu Beihuai’s hand still resting on his arm, a steadying presence.

“Now, don’t move too much. You’re still getting an injection,” Lu Beihuai added, his tone shifting back to one of authority as he noticed Song Qie shifting under the covers.

“I’m not moving!” Song Qie protested, trying to sound indignant but failing to hide the smile tugging at his lips. The warmth radiating from Lu Beihuai’s hand felt reassuring, and he could feel a strange fluttering in his chest that had nothing to do with the discomfort from earlier.

Lu Beihuai’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Good, because I’d rather not have to scold you in a hospital bed.”

“Ha! As if you could!” Song Qie shot back playfully, feeling a surge of defiance.