Chapter Fifty-Seven: Sleeping in Each Other's Arms

The special care ward was worlds apart from the regular patient rooms, like the difference between first class and economy on a plane. Nurses rarely disturbed the patients, yet they were intimately aware of every detail: precisely when a bottle of medicine was administered, at what rate, how long it would take to finish. If the nurse sensed the infusion was nearly complete and the patient hadn’t called for attention, only then would she step in.

A nurse knocked and entered, seeing that Zhang Wenhao’s IV was almost finished. She removed the needle, and after confirming he had no further needs, she quietly left.

Finally, Zhang Wenhao’s right hand was freed, but because the nurse had come in, Su Ruoran had already sat up.

“Are you thirsty?” Su Ruoran asked softly.

Wenhao nodded, replying, “I’d forgotten all about it. Haven’t had a drop all night.”

“I’ll get you some water.” Su Ruoran stood, walked over to the dispenser, and mixed a cup of warm water for him.

Zhang Wenhao glanced at his phone; it was already past midnight. He said, “It’s after twelve. Why don’t you call your driver to take you home?”

Su Ruoran handed him the cup and shook her head. “I’m not going. I said I’d stay with you.”

Zhang Wenhao said, “You’ve already been here so long. You can’t rest well in the hospital. I’ll be fine on my own tonight.”

“No,” Su Ruoran stated firmly. “Don’t try to send me away. Even if you do, I’m not leaving.”

Zhang Wenhao hurried to clarify, “I never meant to send you off, just making a suggestion.”

“Suggestions won’t do either.” Su Ruoran shot him a look. “You lost so much blood, your body’s weak. Get some sleep.”

Zhang Wenhao hesitated, wanting to say something but couldn’t find the words. Su Ruoran noticed his awkwardness and asked, “What’s wrong? What do you want to say?”

Scratching his head, Zhang Wenhao said, “You’ll be exhausted sitting here all night. Why don’t you sleep up here too? The bed’s pretty big.”

Fearing she might misunderstand, he quickly added, “Just grab a pillow, we’ll sleep at opposite ends.”

Su Ruoran gazed at Zhang Wenhao for a moment, then pouted, “No way. You haven’t even washed your feet.”

Embarrassed, Zhang Wenhao said, “I’ll wash them now.”

He began to rise, but Su Ruoran laughed and gently pushed him back down. She walked to the right side of the bed, removed her jacket and hung it, then lifted the covers and slipped in.

Zhang Wenhao was dumbfounded, his heart racing wildly. Even a fool could see Su Ruoran intended to sleep at the same end, in the same bed, under the same blanket.

Her movements were natural, but she was just as nervous, her body trembling slightly. Once under the covers, she quickly turned her back to Zhang Wenhao, curling up tightly, her anxiety peaking.

Su Ruoran wasn’t sure if her bold action would frighten Zhang Wenhao, but it certainly startled herself. Her mind was a muddle, unsure how she’d ended up here, but now, regret surged; she worried her behavior might be too forward, that he’d think less of her.

Her legs curled, hands unsure where to rest, two pillows propped behind Zhang Wenhao, making her feel even more awkward.

As she lay there, uncertain, she felt Zhang Wenhao shift down on the bed. Then his right arm reached above her head, applying a gentle pressure as if to lift her head.

Instinctively, Su Ruoran raised her head slightly, only to feel his arm slip beneath her neck.

Her breath grew erratic, panic overwhelming her. She had never shared such intimacy with any boy, but now, here she was, lying beside Zhang Wenhao, her head resting in the crook of his arm.

Zhang Wenhao was equally tense. He harbored no improper thoughts, but dared this gesture, fearing Su Ruoran might misunderstand or reject him.

Luckily, he felt no sign of rejection from her.

The hospital bed was slightly wider than most, spacious for one, but cramped for two. Zhang Wenhao was careful not to let their bodies touch too closely; apart from his arm and her neck, several centimeters separated their bodies.

Su Ruoran lay on her side with her back to him, while Zhang Wenhao faced upward, his left side nearly hanging off the bed. Both could hear the other's uneven breathing, bringing a touch of embarrassment and awkwardness.

Steeling himself, Zhang Wenhao turned sideways, his aching left hand gently encircling Su Ruoran’s waist. Now she truly lay in his embrace.

Su Ruoran stiffened, frozen, but soon relaxed. An unprecedented sense of happiness surged within her. That night, the two rested in each other's arms, saying nothing, wordlessly enjoying the feeling the other brought.

Late into the night, the lights in Zhang Wenhao’s home still burned. In the living room, Zhang Xingping and his wife sat with Lei Zhanzhong, who puzzled over one thing: why was Su Ruoran in Jiangcheng? Hadn’t her family reportedly sent her abroad?

It was then Song Huafang asked, “Zhanzhong, do you know Su Ruoran’s mother?”

Zhanzhong nodded. “Not well, though. My father once worked for the Su family patriarch, but not for long. Their family’s status in Beijing is far above ours, so there wasn’t much real connection.”

Zhang Xingping gasped, astonished. “If even you say that, what kind of people are they?”

“In short, their background is immense,” Lei Zhanzhong laughed. “Compared to the Su family, the Lei family is insignificant.”

He continued, smiling, “But from what I see, the Su family’s girl seems to have a special relationship with Wenhao.”

“I agree,” Song Huafang laughed. “I suspect our boy is having an early romance.”

“That’s a good thing!” Lei Zhanzhong laughed heartily. “If Wenhao can win her heart, his future will be limitless.”

“I’m not so sure,” Zhang Xingping shook his head. “Families like theirs are worlds apart from ordinary folk like us. If Wenhao really gets involved, it might not be good for him.”

“Why worry?” Lei Zhanzhong smiled. “Wenhao is no ordinary kid. In time, his prospects and achievements will be extraordinary. The Su family is big, but it was built from nothing over two generations. Most of their children now only squander and enjoy. If you compare individuals, none can match Wenhao.”

He spoke openly, “I’d be thrilled if my daughter Leilei found a boy like Wenhao. Family status is nothing; potential matters most. The Su family might well appreciate Wenhao too.”

Song Huafang chimed in, “That girl is wonderful—beautiful, well-mannered, clearly from a distinguished family. If Wenhao could marry such a wife, I’d wake from dreams laughing.”

Lei Zhanzhong nodded, “The Su family is different from other great families; their children and elders alike receive excellent education. Ruoran is renowned in Beijing society. In other families, everyone with a son her age tries to win her hand.”

He paused, then sighed, “I heard that in Beijing, from primary to middle school, countless boys pursued her. By middle school, my Leilei attended the same school, and every day, gifts filled her classroom’s trunk. The Su family was overwhelmed, so when Ruoran entered high school, they sent her abroad. But it seems that was just a cover; actually, they sent her to Jiangcheng, and fate handed Wenhao an opportunity.”

Zhang Xingping sighed, “Honestly, I don’t want Wenhao to get involved with that girl.”

“Brother Zhang,” Lei Zhanzhong smiled, “We needn’t worry so much about their affairs. We shouldn’t push, nor should we reject. If Wenhao and Su Ruoran truly come together, it would greatly benefit his life.”

Zhang Xingping shook his head gently, “I don’t want to interfere; it’s up to them. I may not have much, but Wenhao is my only son. I just don’t want him to suffer.”

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