At two in the morning, Lin Shuang, gritting through the sharp pain and welling tears, agonized between the first and the last person who had ever seen her naked — and called the latter.

Zhou Zheng had already gone to bed, jolted awake by the ringing phone. Seeing the caller ID, for one instant he thought he was still dreaming — but by the time he pressed the answer button, he was fully awake.

“Can you come help me?” The voice on the phone was weak and irritable, volume nearly spent. “I fell in the shower, I need to go to the hospital.”

Thank goodness — the shower curtain had slowed her fall at the last second, so she hadn’t hit her tailbone. After the pain passed, she could at least stand and walk; it was just that she’d fallen sideways, bracing herself with her arm on the way down, her full body weight landing on her hand, and a spot on her shoulder throbbed with pain sharp enough to make her dizzy.

“On my way.” He got up at once, grabbed a T-shirt, and headed out the door, his voice hurried. “Don’t hang up. Wait for me.”

The call stayed connected. Lin Shuang went quiet on the line; Zhou Zheng didn’t say much either. Various rustling, hissing sounds came through the call — running footsteps, or perhaps the sound of the call cutting in and out. She stared at the call timer ticking second by second, and just as her patience was running out, her eyes stinging with tears about to fall, he finally spoke. “Shuangshuang, can you open the door? I’m outside.”

Lin Shuang wrapped herself in a towel and went to open the door. Zhou Zheng stood before her, chest heaving, breath a little ragged.

The lights in the apartment were blazing — clearly she hadn’t gone to sleep at this hour. She stood silently in front of him, like a drowned ghost — wet hair matted and disheveled against her cheeks, a half-dry, half-wet towel hanging loosely around her, face pale, brows knit tight, lips pressed against the pain, body hunched, bare shoulders drawn in on themselves.

“Hurt my shoulder, can’t move it on this side.” Whether her face was expressionless or simply numb from the pain, she stepped back to let him in. “Come help me.”

Though the two of them had once shared an intimate relationship, this was the first time Zhou Zheng had ever set foot in Lin Shuang’s home.

Zhou Zheng didn’t take in the surroundings, just followed her in — noticing only that the apartment smelled sweet. Lin Shuang sat in a chair cradling her shoulder, lips pale and cracked, too weak to speak, yet forcing herself to keep giving him instructions. “Underwear’s in the second drawer on the right. Dress is hanging in the closet on the left — find one with ties.”

She was truly in pain, needing someone to help dress her before going out.

They’d already slept together — who cared about being seen naked now. Lin Shuang simply pulled off the towel. Zhou Zheng’s lashes fluttered, expression composed, and he turned to the closet to find her clothes.

“Not that one, too much hassle to put on. There’s an adhesive bra on the left, the stick-on kind.” Her arm couldn’t lift at all right now, half her body aching from top to bottom. Lin Shuang felt like her brain had been knocked senseless from the fall, unable to hold back her irritable tone. “What are you dawdling for, hurry up — it’s not like you haven’t seen or touched it before.”

She stood there completely bare in front of him, radiating an air both wretched and fragile.

Zhou Zheng said nothing, just moved faster, dressing her piece by piece — only then did he have a moment to really look her over. One shoulder was somewhat swollen, a bruise darkening her cheek, large patches of purple-blue bruising across her knees and arms. He asked carefully, “Did you hit yourself elsewhere too? Besides the shoulder, where else hurts?”

Everywhere else was fine, only the shoulder pain was unbearable. Lin Shuang frowned, breaking into a cold sweat. “Probably fractured.”

Master Shun’s car was waiting downstairs; he called out warmly, “Miss Lin.” Zhou Zheng carefully helped her into the car. “The emergency room, please.”

Lin Shuang’s whole body stayed rigid the entire ride, her gaze empty as she held her arm. Zhou Zheng didn’t dare touch her carelessly either, watching her listless expression and asking, “Cold?”

She frowned and said nothing.

On the way out, Zhou Zheng hadn’t forgotten to grab a shirt from her closet, draping it gently over her shoulders.

The emergency room still had quite a few people at this hour — mostly drunk injuries in the dead of night. The doctor ran a hand along Lin Shuang’s entire arm, making her groan in pain, breaking into a cold sweat, eyes brimming with tears.

Zhou Zheng stood off to the side, lips pressed tight, hands clenched, unable to help breaking into a cold sweat himself.

“Bone’s not displaced. Let’s get an X-ray first to check for a fracture.” The doctor handed the form to Zhou Zheng. “Family member, please go pay first, then take her up to the third floor for the imaging room.”

Zhou Zheng rushed around paying and collecting the paperwork, then finally helped Lin Shuang into the imaging room. Once the X-ray report came out, he went back downstairs to show the doctor.

“Slight fracture of the humerus, soft tissue damage.” The ER doctor was a cautious young physician, tapping at Lin Shuang’s shoulder bone, watching her haggard, pained expression. “Looking at the film, the injury is at the greater tubercle of the humerus — not too serious, actually. If you want to be safe, let’s get an MRI too, check the condition of the joint and ligaments.”

This meant another round of moving her, this time to the MRI room. It was past three in the morning, and the on-duty doctor for the MRI room wasn’t there — only a contact number posted at the door. Zhou Zheng settled Lin Shuang into a chair and called to hurry the doctor along.

After the call, he turned around and saw Lin Shuang, wrapped in the shirt, sitting obediently in the chair, head bowed, long disheveled hair hanging along the side of her face, hiding her features — her whole figure looked dejected and shrunken, tapping her heel against her slipper, the sound going pat pat.

Zhou Zheng tucked the phone back into his pocket, walked over, and stood behind her. He reached out and touched her neck with his fingertips, tilting her head back gently. “Don’t move.”

Though it was the height of summer, the hospital’s temperature wasn’t high. She’d come out with wet hair from home, and whatever had soaked her hair — cold sweat or hot sweat — hadn’t dried yet, still tangled and damp.

Zhou Zheng pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and used it to pat her wet hair dry a few times, then ran his fingers through it, smoothing the strands, gathering it back, gently tilting her head forward again. He said softly, “There.”

“The doctor’s in the on-call room, coming right away, let’s wait a few minutes.”

He sat down beside her, two empty seats still between them. The waiting area was empty, the lights glaringly bright, carrying a cold, desolate stillness.

Lin Shuang kept her head down and said nothing the whole time. Zhou Zheng busied himself looking after her, speaking little himself on the way over.

“Does it still hurt a lot right now?”

She nodded.

“Tired?”

She shook her head.

He thought for a moment, then got up, moved the things beside her to another seat, and sat down right next to her.

“Lean on my shoulder for a bit.” His gaze fixed ahead, his voice mild. “Rest a while.”

“Thanks, sorry to trouble you this late at night.” She lowered her eyes.

“It’s fine.”

He patted her head lightly. Lin Shuang, cradling her injured shoulder, followed the gentle pressure of his hand and leaned softly against his shoulder.

Zhou Zheng adjusted the shirt draped over her, and as he looked up—

He saw her eyes soft and yielding, long lashes damp, her face pale and fragile.

The on-call doctor hurried over. Zhou Zheng helped Lin Shuang in for the exam; the report came out, and he took it to show the ER doctor — slight fracture of the greater tubercle of the humerus. Because the injury was at the top of the shoulder, a cast wasn’t possible; conservative treatment was recommended. The doctor prescribed some medication, wrapped a temporary bandage around Lin Shuang’s shoulder, and told Zhou Zheng to buy a triangular sling at the pharmacy, and to visit the orthopedic rehab clinic during the day.

By the time all this was done, it was already past four in the morning, the sky already growing light.

Zhou Zheng took Lin Shuang home again, helped her into her room, and told her, “Get some sleep first.”

She gave a faint “Mm,” sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, making no further move.

Zhou Zheng watched her sit there, head bowed, expression haggard, a faint dark shadow under her eyes. He thought for a moment, then went over, supported her other shoulder with one hand, the other hand resting under her knees, and asked her, “Does it hurt? I’ll carry you — can I set you down on the bed like this?”

“Mm.” She lowered her head, murmuring a muffled reply.

He knelt on the bed with one knee, nearly wrapping his arms fully around her, gathering Lin Shuang into a curled position, carefully cradling her back, gradually lowering her body onto the bed. Following the motion, Lin Shuang gave a soft groan against his arm, brows knit.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Ribs.”

He slowed his movements. “Should I pad something underneath? Might feel more comfortable?”

“Okay.”

Zhou Zheng grabbed a small blanket from the bed, folded it into a long strip, and tucked it beneath her injured side.

“Help turn on the AC, the remote’s on the table.”

Zhou Zheng found the remote, set the temperature, and pulled a summer blanket over her. “Get some sleep now.”

“Thanks.” She closed her eyes. “It’s morning already, you should go home and rest too.”

Zhou Zheng took a couple of steps, then paused.

“I’ll take the key, go to the pharmacy for the sling, and buy some medicine for the swelling and bruising too — come back in a bit?”

Lin Shuang curled further into the blanket and said nothing.

Her silence, he took as no objection. He found her phone and set it by her pillow.

“Call me if you need anything.”

Zhou Zheng closed the bedroom door and left with her medical record and insurance card.

Zhou Zheng had a shift at school today; he called a colleague to cover for him, went to the pharmacy for the anti-inflammatory medicine and the sling the doctor had told him to buy, booked an appointment with the head of orthopedics at the hospital, and picked up some food on the way back.

When he got back to Lin Shuang’s place, the apartment was quiet, not a sound. He gently turned the bedroom doorknob, saw her still sleeping peacefully in bed, and closed the door again, pulling a chair over to sit and wait by the door.

Her body ached terribly; Lin Shuang’s sleep was heavy, exhausted, and uncomfortable all at once.

She glanced at her phone — ten in the morning, less than four hours of sleep. The scorching sun streamed in through the curtains, casting the room in a hazy glow.

Zhou Zheng heard sounds from inside, knocked on the door, and opened it. “Awake?”

Zhou Zheng helped her sit up. Her face full of weariness and fatigue, she pressed her lips together. “I need to use the bathroom.”

This time she no longer needed him following at her heels to support her. The bathroom still bore the marks of what had happened — several rings torn from the shower curtain, a few bottles of bath products knocked to the floor, a damp hair towel tossed on the ground, even the slippers flipped every which way. Not that it was entirely her fault for falling — the new bathroom slippers she’d bought this year had a sleek, attractive design, soft and thin-soled, but not nearly non-slip enough.

Zhou Zheng took one look and understood at once. He picked up the slippers scattered right underfoot and asked her, “Need help?”

Lin Shuang’s composure had returned, and a certain awkwardness stirred in her — even when they’d lived together, they’d never shared the bathroom like this, let alone at such an embarrassing moment.

“No need, go on out.”

He stepped back and pulled the door shut. Lin Shuang looked at the blurred silhouette printed on the frosted glass door, worried the soundproofing wasn’t good enough, twisted her face away, and bit her lip. “Zhou Zheng, can you step further away?”

Sounds from the bed were sensual; sounds from the toilet were just embarrassing.

“I’m going to run to the supermarket, buy a non-slip mat to bring back. Be careful when you walk.”

“That… there’s millet porridge, pork rib and yam soup, and milk and bread on the table that I bought — eat something.”

Zhou Zheng went to the large supermarket by the fountain plaza, picked out a decent-looking non-slip mat and a bathroom floor mat, and by the time he came back, Lin Shuang was sitting in a chair holding a spoon, staring into space. Seeing him come in, her eyes flickered, and she lowered her head to take a sip of soup.

Zhou Zheng laid the non-slip mat and floor mat down in the bathroom.