For The Rest Of Our Life – Chapter 13
by Little PandaI Really Want to… Take a Bite…
Xiao Wanqing had always been a light sleeper. Back in university when she lived in the dorms, the slightest movement from a roommate getting up in the night would rouse her.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Xiao Wanqing was woken by the violent storm raging outside her window. She opened her eyes and looked out—the night was pitch-dark, moonless, and she could only faintly make out the rain lashing madly against the glass, wave after relentless wave.
As if remembering something, her delicate brows furrowed slightly. She reached over and switched on the bedside lamp, slowly sat up, and looked toward the windowsill once more.
Sure enough, water was spraying through the window seams, and rivulets of rain were already running down the wall beneath the sill.
Xiao Wanqing’s apartment was decorated in a modern, minimalist style, with solid wood flooring throughout. It looked beautiful but was hard to maintain—and the one thing it could not tolerate was water.
Xiao Wanqing sighed softly, tucked her tangled hair behind her ears, and slipped quietly out of bed. She left the bedroom to fetch a mop and the absorbent cloth she always kept on hand. Back in her room, she first laid the cloth along the window seam to block the source, then mopped up the water. After tidying her own bedroom, she took the mop and cloth and checked every window and door in the other rooms. Only then did she make her way to Lin Xian’s door.
She stood at Lin Xian’s door, her fingers resting on the handle, hesitating. Knocking might wake Lin Xian and disturb her sleep. But entering someone’s bedroom uninvited felt thoroughly impolite.
She wavered back and forth, but in the end, her concern for the solid wood floors won out.
Xiao Wanqing unconsciously slowed and softened her breathing. She turned the handle slowly, eased the door open just wide enough to slip through, and crept inside.
Terrified of startling Lin Xian, she did everything with utmost caution—light steps, gentle movements, careful handling. But things did not go as she wished. Lin Xian woke anyway.
Just as Xiao Wanqing finished wiping up the water beneath the windowsill and was about to make a clean getaway, a voice reached her from the bed not far away—groggy, half-alarmed, low and hoarse: “Xiao… Auntie?”
All that effort, undone. Xiao Wanqing sighed with regret and turned back, apologetic. “I’m sorry, I woke you. It seems the typhoon made landfall—the wind and rain are terrible. I came in to check the windows.”
Lin Xian opened her mouth to tell her it was fine, but for some reason her throat felt like it was on fire—dry, raw, and painful. The moment she tried to speak, she coughed hard twice, groaning in discomfort.
At the sound, Xiao Wanqing’s heart tightened. She set down the mop immediately and strode to Lin Xian’s bedside. “What’s wrong? Does your throat hurt?” she asked, reaching out to feel Lin Xian’s forehead.
Lin Xian’s head was heavy and muddled. She swallowed several times before the pain eased enough for her to answer with effort. “My throat… really hurts…”
Lin Xian didn’t need to explain further. The burning heat Xiao Wanqing felt against the back of her hand had already told her everything. Lin Xian had a fever. The realization made Xiao Wanqing’s heart sink—filled in an instant with both distress and self-reproach.
She still hadn’t taken good enough care of Lin Xian. It had only been a few days, and Lin Xian was already sick…
But this was no time for prolonged self-reflection. Her eyes darkened. She turned on the light, picked up the remote, and switched off the air conditioning. Then she gently touched Lin Xian’s flushed cheek and said softly, “Don’t try to talk with your throat hurting. You have a fever. I’ll get you some water and a thermometer to check your temperature.”
Lin Xian’s heart gave a thump at her words. Through the haze of fever, she thought, No way—since when was her body this weak? She had only been caught in the rain once, and she already had a fever?!
In under a minute, Xiao Wanqing returned with a cup of warm water. She helped Lin Xian sit up halfway, pulled the quilt higher around her, and tucked in the edges. Only then did she raise the cup to Lin Xian’s lips and give her water to drink.
Lin Xian took small sips from the cup. She glanced up quietly at Xiao Wanqing and saw the deep concern etched on her face, and her heart twinged with sadness. She had hidden the fact that she had been caught in the rain because she didn’t want to trouble Xiao Wanqing or make her worry. Instead, it seemed she had only caused bigger problems. In the middle of the night, she was keeping Xiao Wanqing from her sleep.
Xiao Wanqing, of course, couldn’t sense the fragile girl’s inner turmoil. She was consumed with worry and tenderness. “Is it too hot?”
Lin Xian shook her head gently to indicate the temperature was just right.
After Lin Xian finished the water, Xiao Wanqing helped her lie back down and handed her a mercury thermometer to place under her arm. She gently tucked in the blanket edges, then sat down quietly beside Lin Xian’s bed.
With the thermometer in place, Lin Xian looked at Xiao Wanqing’s calm, worried, slightly weary face and bit her lip. “Auntie Xiao, I’m fine. I’ll feel better after some sleep. Go back to your room and rest.”
Xiao Wanqing reached over and patted her quilt, forced a small smile, and reassured her. “I’m fine, not tired. Once I’m awake, I can’t fall back asleep. If you’re sleepy, close your eyes and rest. I’ll wake you when the time’s up.”
Lin Xian was actually exhausted, her head heavy and swimming, but she couldn’t bear to close her eyes and leave Xiao Wanqing waiting alone. So she put on a brave face. “I’m not tired either.” The words had barely left her mouth when her jaw fell half-open, a yawn fighting to escape. By the time she caught herself and clamped her mouth shut, she was already halfway through it.
Xiao Wanqing had watched the entire performance and finally couldn’t help but smile—a real smile, her eyes soft as water. She stood, walked to the switch, and pressed it. The room fell into darkness.
From somewhere nearby in the dark, Lin Xian heard Xiao Wanqing’s voice—warm, clear, and gentle: “Sleep for a while. I’ll stay right here with you.”
She strained to find Xiao Wanqing’s face in the darkness, but could only make out the faint glimmer of her eyes. Everything else was lost to the night…
Outside, the storm still howled. Inside, all was quiet. Without realizing it, Lin Xian’s consciousness began to blur…
Four minutes later, Xiao Wanqing slipped the thermometer from under Lin Xian’s arm with the utmost gentleness, then carried it out to the lit living room to check the reading.
38.5°C…
That was already a high fever. Xiao Wanqing’s brows furrowed tightly, and for a moment she felt at a loss.
When she had gone for the thermometer, she had checked the medicine cabinet. She had been too careless about these things—every single medication in the cabinet had expired. And with the violent storm raging outside, going to the hospital was out of the question.
Xiao Wanqing gripped the thermometer tightly, her mind in a tangle.
No medicine, no way to get to a hospital—what could she do? She had never cared for someone who was sick under these conditions. She had no experience at all. She calmed herself and tried to remember: when she was young and fell ill, how had her mother taken care of her?
A moment later, she gathered herself and went to the bathroom for two towels. She soaked them in hot water, wrung them out, filled another cup of hot water, and returned to Lin Xian’s room. She folded one warm towel and laid it gently over Lin Xian’s forehead. With the other, she carefully wiped Lin Xian’s face and hands.
Lin Xian’s eyes fluttered open again, hazy and unfocused. Her wide, dewy, doe-like gaze fixed on Xiao Wanqing.
Xiao Wanqing touched her cheek, sat down at the bedside, and slid an arm beneath Lin Xian’s neck to cradle her shoulders. She gently lifted Lin Xian’s upper body and drew her against her chest. Then she picked up the cup and brought it to Lin Xian’s lips for her to drink.
Weak and compliant, Lin Xian settled against Xiao Wanqing’s chest. As she took small sips of water, she studied Xiao Wanqing through the corner of her eye, hazy but observant. It was the first time she had looked at Xiao Wanqing this close up—the elegant, well-shaped brows, the long, dense lashes, the graceful, straight nose, the soft, rosy lips, and the fine, flowing contours of her face…
Looking at Xiao Wanqing’s fair, luminous face, she was suddenly seized by an astonishing urge. I really want to… take a bite…
“Mm? What?” Xiao Wanqing asked, her tone gentle.
Lin Xian blinked hard, and her mind cleared a fraction. Had she… accidentally said that out loud?
She tried to cover up, saying in a raspy voice, “Nothing. I think I’m a bit delirious. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Xiao Wanqing only felt worse hearing this. Her eyes brimmed with concern and heartache. She didn’t press further, but gently laid Lin Xian back down and soothed her. “It’s all right. You’ll feel better after some sleep. I’m sorry there’s no fever medicine at home. I can only keep giving you water—it might make for a restless night.”
Lin Xian smiled weakly, but with her usual spark of liveliness. “Auntie Xiao, you’re silly. Why are you the one apologizing? I’m the one keeping you awake.”
Xiao Wanqing managed a smile and reached out to tap Lin Xian’s nose affectionately, chiding her. “Impudent. Calling me silly.”
Lin Xian narrowed her eyes, her smile curving into crescents.
For the rest of the night, Xiao Wanqing never closed her eyes again. She brought a small chair to Lin Xian’s bedside and sat down. Every half hour, she woke Lin Xian to give her water. In between, she took Lin Xian’s temperature twice more. Thankfully, the fever wasn’t climbing—it was steadily coming down.
In the darkness, Xiao Wanqing gazed at Lin Xian’s peaceful sleeping face, and an aching fullness swelled in her chest.
Since her parents passed away, through all those years of living alone, Xiao Wanqing had nearly forgotten what it felt like to truly worry over someone, to fret, to ache with tenderness, to blame herself—a tangle of a hundred emotions.
It was as if, overnight, something long sealed away inside her had quietly come back to life…
At last, at 5:30 AM, she took Lin Xian’s temperature once more. It had dropped to 36.9°C—back to normal.
Xiao Wanqing let out a long breath of relief. The drowsiness she had been holding at bay suddenly crashed over her like a wave. She set an alarm on her phone for 6:30, then slumped forward from the small chair, resting against the edge of Lin Xian’s bed, and drifted into a heavy, murky sleep.
Lin Xian stirred awake without meaning to at 6:00 AM. The heavy rain was still falling outside, dark and stormy… She lowered her gaze and saw Xiao Wanqing slumped against the side of her bed, her gentle, lovely face turned toward her. The lips that always carried a warm smile were parted slightly—inadvertently, disarmingly cute.
Lin Xian stared at Xiao Wanqing without blinking. As if possessed, she raised her hand, wanting to trace the outline of Xiao Wanqing’s face, to smooth the faint crease between her brows. But the instant before her fingers would have made contact, Lin Xian yanked her hand back. Even she couldn’t say why she had reached out—or why she had pulled away.
She watched Xiao Wanqing sleeping. After a long moment, she whispered, soft and tender, “Good morning. I’m sorry for making you worry. Xiao Wanqing.”
The author has something to say:
Xiao Wanqing: Satisfied with yourself, pulling a stunt like that?
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