Tongues of flame danced like a grotesque monster lunging toward them.
You Mingxu desperately reached out, trying to hold him.
But she couldn’t reach it.
Yet there he was, amid the scorching flames, still wearing that cold, proud expression.
She saw darkness swirling in his eyes.
Then he resolutely pushed her away: “Go!”
You Mingxu grabbed at the empty air as he was instantly swallowed by flames and heat…
You Mingxu’s eyes snapped open, her back drenched in cold sweat.
She saw a white ceiling and smelled the distinct hospital odor. The room was dim and unlit, and she wasn’t sure of the time.
When she moved, she felt intense pain throughout her body. Memory slowly returned—she remembered holding Yin Feng, using all her strength to roll away.
She was alive. She had survived, but what about Yin Feng?
Supporting herself, she sat up and noticed a tall figure sitting in the dark corner of the bed. Whether he had been asleep or awake, he raised his head at her movement.
Their eyes met in the darkness. She could see he was also wearing hospital clothes, with gauze patches on his face and hands. Only his eyes, the same as in her dream, gazed steadily at her.
“Are you… alright?” You Mingxu spoke, surprised by her hoarse voice.
Yin Feng replied with unexpected calm: “You held me so tightly you blocked most of the damage. Of course, I’m fine.”
You Mingxu wanted to laugh, completely relieved, feeling utterly happy. But the laugh pulled at the wounds on her neck, hurting, so she held it back. He had already risen from his chair and sat on the edge of the bed. You Mingxu pressed her head, feeling dizzy, and asked, “How long was I asleep?”
“A day and a night,” Yin Feng answered. “I’ve been awake for most of the day.”
Seeing him appear relatively normal, You Mingxu felt reassured. Sensing that besides some flesh wounds she probably wasn’t seriously hurt, she still asked, “We’re both okay, right? There won’t be any lasting effects?”
Yin Feng rested his hands on his legs and replied, “We both have mild concussions, nothing else. Though with my head, as you know, who knows what strange symptoms might shake loose. You’ll have to be patient with me.”
You Mingxu chuckled, then winced—pain. The dim light filtering through the curtains fell across his face. He smiled too.
Then he reached out and held her.
You Mingxu fell into his embrace.
They held each other tightly in silence.
But their words were anything but gentle.
You Mingxu: “Are you crazy? Who told you to trade yourself for me?”
“Should I have watched him take you away?”
So You Mingxu held him even tighter.
Sensing her dependence, Yin Feng’s heart sank deeper into that vast ocean of confusion. They held each other quietly for a while as if he couldn’t get enough of breathing in her scent.
When You Mingxu tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let go, burying his face in her shoulder, voice muffled: “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He remained silent.
You Mingxu understood what was bothering him. She gently stroked his head and said, “Well, who told me to be so awesome? At the time, I didn’t think much about it—I just knew I could save you.”
He stayed silent, arms tightening, pressing her to his chest, his chin resting on her head as he continued nuzzling quietly. You Mingxu smiled slightly at his “roughhousing” and asked, “Is Yin Chen dead?”
“Yes.”
“So… the Punisher organization has been destroyed.”
“Of course.”
You Mingxu slowly sighed.
“Ding Xiongwei came to see you this morning, told me to let you rest and recover well, return to work in two weeks,” Yin Feng said. “Don’t know why he’s suddenly become so talkative.”
You Mingxu smiled: “Because he’s accepted you. Old Ding only rambles on with his people.”
Yin Feng snorted, which sounded rather annoying to You Mingxu’s ears.
But having two weeks of vacation was good news. Plus, the Punishers were gone—the nemesis that had entangled them for nearly two years no longer existed. It felt like facing an open sea with spring warmth ahead.
You Mingxu’s mood lightened, and she copied his earlier action, nuzzling against his chest. Yin Feng laughed deeply, resuming his sarcastic tone: “No more such dangerous stunts in the future, hmm?”
You Mingxu lightly slapped his face: “Don’t forget who’s in charge here. Besides, I just saved your life—from now on you’ll serve me faithfully, understand?”
He immediately objected: “Didn’t I save your life too?”
You Mingxu smiled: “That’s different. Your life is worth more.”
They talked quietly for a while longer. You Mingxu directed Yin Feng to open the curtains—it was dusk outside, and everything was wrapped in peaceful twilight. She had him turn on the lights and bring her water. Neither wanted to call the doctor yet—what was the rush? They weren’t dying. These minor injuries were like scratches compared to what they’d endured before.
After Yin Feng had attended to her comfort, they sat together on the hospital bed. You Mingxu’s head rested against his chest. After sitting quietly for a while, she asked, “Should we go back to Guizhou and finish our interrupted vacation?”
She had always felt guilty about never properly accompanying Yin Feng. He, regardless of his mental state, had stuck to her like a stubborn donkey, truly serving her faithfully as they solved cases.
But Yin Feng seemed lost in thought, remaining silent.
You Mingxu nudged him with her head again. He wrapped his arms around her and asked softly, “Go finish our interrupted vacation, complete our unfinished business?”
You Mingxu paused, then made a sound of agreement.
But he said: “I don’t even want to wait a few days. Xu, who contributed most to taking down the Punishers? Who was wrongly branded a fugitive, and almost went to prison? Don’t you think he deserves a reward?”
His voice was unhurried but carried a hint of coaxing. How different from the You Yingjun of years past, who would simply blurt out “I want a reward, I want a reward!”
You Mingxu leaned in his warm, solid embrace, looking out at the dark blue sky and the city lights. She said: “Tell me what reward you want. Let’s see if I can afford it.”
He suddenly released her and got off the bed. You Mingxu watched quietly as he stood there in his plain hospital clothes, hair disheveled, face pale with a gauze patch, smelling of medicine, not even half as handsome as usual. But he seemed completely unaware as he knelt on one knee beside the bed, head slightly bowed, his handsome face showing a rare blush.
As if performing magic, he produced a blue velvet box from somewhere, opened it, and placed it on the hospital bed. You Mingxu remained silent. He kept his head down for a moment before looking up, his flushed face bearing clear, bright eyes:
“You Mingxu, I don’t ask for much. Hardships, dangers, life and death, fortune and misfortune—these are trivial matters. Only you are of supreme importance, giving me pain and joy, inspiring my admiration and longing. So I only want you.
But I can give you much. My person, my wealth, my disciples, and my madness, cowardice, courage, and kindness—all of it is yours. No one else will do, no one else in this world will do.
Wear this ring, and our future will be settled.”
You Mingxu wiped away a tear, took the ring, and slipped it onto her right ring finger, saying: “Writers will be writers, with all your prepared words, right? I’ll let the past slide, but if you dare sweet-talk anyone else like this in the future, I’ll still break your legs.”