Xi Chen didn't immediately open his eyes.
Three hours after his heart had resumed beating, his body remained in a state of almost perfect calm. The monitor showed a steady, slow, controlled rhythm, as if his death had been merely a minor glitch that had been corrected.
But Wu Xian felt no relief.
He stood behind the ICU glass, staring at the body with an inexplicable feeling. Medically, the patient was safe. Logically, he should have left the room by now, going about his normal routine of filling out reports, drinking bitter coffee, and continuing his shift.
But his legs refused to move.
"Doctor Wu," one of the nurses approached. "You're over your shift."
Wu Xian nodded slowly. "I know."
"But you haven't moved since."
Wu Xian didn't answer. His gaze remained locked on the pale face beneath the tubes and wires.
"Is something wrong?" the nurse asked cautiously.
Wu Xian sighed. "No. I'm just making sure he's okay."
As he turned to leave, on his third step, something gripped the back of his head. It wasn't pain. It wasn't a sound.
It was a feeling.
As if someone had noticed his departure.
Wu Xian stopped.
And just then,
The monitor in the room beeped a little faster.
It wasn't an alarm.
Just a slight acceleration.
But enough to make Wu Xian turn his head back.
●■●
Xi Chen opened his eyes in the early hours of dawn.
The lids lifted slowly, as if the world were too much to handle all at once. His vision was blurry—white lights, moving shadows, the scent of antiseptic stinging his nose.
Then he saw the face.
Wu Xian stood by the bed, still wearing the same doctor's coat, his eyes sunken from lack of sleep. His expression was neutral, professional—but there was a subtle tension in his jaw.
Their eyes met.
And Wu Xian felt something collapse in his chest.
It wasn't a blank stare.
It wasn't confused.
It wasn't like a patient who had just returned from the dead.
Xi Chen stared at him as if he had known him for a long time.
"Doctor…" Xi Chen's voice was hoarse, barely audible. "Why did you call me back?"
Wu Xian froze.
"That's normal," he replied quickly, too quickly. "You were in cardiac arrest for quite some time."
Xi Chen blinked slowly. A faint smile appeared, too subtle to be a smile, too conscious to be a reflex.
"Fifty-nine minutes," he said.
Wu Xian stiffened.
"There's no way you'd remember that."
Xi Chen didn't argue. He simply stared at Wu Xian a moment longer, as if measuring something invisible.
"Then," he murmured softly, "let's just say I guessed."
Wu Xian reached for the medical data board, trying to regain some distance. "You're lucky. Very lucky."
"Lucky?" Xi Chen repeated slowly.
He raised his hand slightly, his fingers trembling subtly, then lowered it back to the bed.
"No," he said softly. "I was called."
Wu Xian looked up. "What?"
Xi Chen turned his head toward the window, toward the sky that was beginning to pale. "I'm gone," he continued quietly. "But someone… won't let me leave this world."
Wu Xian slammed the data board shut with a little too much force.
"Patients who have suffered severe trauma often experience distorted perception," he said coldly. "You need to rest."
Xi Chen looked back at him.
"You kissed me."
The room froze.
"It was an emergency procedure," Wu Xian replied quickly. "Just artificial respiration. Nothing more."
Xi Chen nodded slowly, as if politely accepting the explanation.
"For me," he said, his voice soft—too soft.
"That's enough."
Wu Xian didn't know why the back of his neck was prickling.
He didn't see
that beneath Xi Chen's calm face, something was smiling triumphantly.
Inside, Wang Ji leaned comfortably in the now-warm space of consciousness.
He still denies it . he thought with satisfaction.
Humans are always like that .
But,
No problem.
Because he has chosen me to live .
So, next chapter...
I will teach him about the meaning of belonging.