DSMIS CH75

Chapter 75: Extra 5—Director Shen Turns into a Sick Cat

The worst thing about late autumn in Tianjin was when the fierce winds blew; once the gusts kicked up, the perceived temperature plummeted like a bungee jump, dropping two entire notches on the progress bar.

And as luck would have it, late autumn this year was particularly miserable—not only did it bring howling gales, but torrential rain as well. Chilled rainwater whipped through the wind, sending shivers through anyone who stepped outside. It wasn’t even winter yet, but people outdoors stubbornly kept their hands buried deep in their pockets.

Outside was freezing, and indoors wasn’t much better. Because the municipal central heating hadn’t been turned on yet, the indoor temperature took a nosedive right along with the cold snap outdoors.

Even with both the air conditioning and the humidifier running at home, Shen Xing still felt miserable. Finally, this discomfort manifested physically—the moment he woke up first thing in the morning, he had a nosebleed.

Seeing his pillow soaked with blood that morning gave Jiang Lin quite a scare, and he quickly woke him up.

Dazed and half-asleep, Shen Xing was guided into the bathroom, where Captain Jiang patted cold water onto his neck and forehead, the sudden chill jolting him with a sharp shudder.

Jiang Lin wrung out a cold towel and pressed it over his nose to promote vasoconstriction in the capillaries. Sure enough, the bleeding stopped moments later.

Still overwhelmingly sleepy, Shen Xing turned his head and rested it squarely on Captain Jiang’s shoulder:

“So sleepy…”

Noticing something off in his voice and how thick with nasal congestion it sounded, Jiang Lin asked:

“Your voice is raspy. Did you catch a cold?”

As he spoke, he raised a hand to feel his forehead. It did feel a bit warm:

“Come back to bed, let’s take your temperature.”

He helped Shen Xing into the bedroom. Shen Xing immediately tried to dive under the blankets, but spotting his bloodstained pillowcase, he wrinkled his nose in disgust and simply burrowed into Jiang Lin’s side of the bed instead.

Jiang Lin retrieved a thermometer. When he checked the reading: 38.2°C (100.8°F).

“You have a fever. Does anything else ache? If you can’t manage today, take sick leave.”

Wrapped up in the duvet like a silkworm cocoon, Shen Xing looked utterly pitiful:

“My throat hurts. But I can’t call in; two doctors in our department are already down, and we’re short-staffed. I’m on outpatient clinic today, so I should be able to get off right on time.”

With the abrupt drop in temperature, colds were currently the one thing neither patients nor doctors in the hospital had any shortage of.

“I’ll drive you today. Go get a blood test so you can take the right medication, and I’ll pick you up after work.”

Shen Xing opened his arms, clearly demanding a comforting hug. The sight melted Jiang Lin’s heart into mush, wishing he could shrink him down and tuck him into his pocket.

“The central heating kicks on in a little over a week. It should be more comfortable once we don’t have to use the AC.”

Truth be told, Director Shen’s finicky fragility was on par with Qianjin’s. He dreaded the heat in the summer and hated the cold in the winter. AC cooling was fine in summer, but turning on the heater in winter left his entire body so dry he felt like he was flaking apart—even running two humidifiers simultaneously couldn’t save him.

That morning, Jiang Lin cooked breakfast to feed Director Shen, dug out a long down coat to bundle him up securely, and drove him to work like dropping a child off at school. After unbuckling his seatbelt, he pulled the coat’s hood over Shen Xing’s head:

“Don’t order spicy takeout for lunch. I’ll order you soup from that Huainan restaurant from last time. Drink plenty of water, and don’t hold back on going to the restroom…”

Hood pulled over his head, Director Shen listened obediently to Captain Jiang’s nagging. Had the hospital gates not been crowded with people, he would have demanded another hug.

That pleading look couldn’t escape Captain Jiang, who had cracked countless cases. Raising his arm, Jiang Lin pulled him into an embrace, planting a swift kiss on his cheek:

“I’ll pick you up tonight.”

Shen Xing had a full day of outpatient clinic duty today. He felt manageable in the morning, but by afternoon, his fever had visibly flared up. He felt that if someone held a lighter by his nose right now, the hot breath puffing out would ignite like a blowtorch. Yet, the flow of clinic patients didn’t decrease just because the doctor had a fever.

Calling the next patient in, two more people slipped in behind them:

“Director, we couldn’t snag an appointment online—could you add a slot for us? We traveled in from out of town and just got off the train.”

There were patients from out of town practically every day. Looking at the two of them, travel-worn and carrying heavy backpacks, Shen Xing wrote an add-on slip and handed it over.

Jiang Lin left a bit early today, driving straight to the hospital after work. After parking, he headed straight for the orthopedics clinic. It was already past clock-out time, and the ticketing machine had ceased calling numbers, yet a crowd still lingered outside Shen Xing’s consultation room. He simply took a seat in the waiting area nearby to wait. It was another forty-plus minutes before the crowd outside gradually dispersed. He walked over and knocked on the door. Shen Xing looked up, his eyes meeting Jiang Lin’s.

He had felt able to hold it together just a moment ago, but seeing this man now, he slumped back against his chair in sheer exhaustion, feeling as if every ounce of strength had been completely drained.

Walking in, Jiang Lin noticed his off-color complexion immediately, his cheeks flushed with an unnatural crimson. He promptly pressed the back of his hand to his forehead:

“The fever spiked. Did you get your blood tested?”

Curled up in his chair, Shen Xing shook his head:

“I planned to go at noon, but I added a few slots in the morning, and by the time I ate, there wasn’t any time left.”

Watching his wilted state, Jiang Lin’s heart ached. He helped him change out of his white coat and supported him up:

“I’ll accompany you to the ER to test it right now.”

Shen Xing waved his hand dismissively:

“No need. The ER is packed to the gills right now; if you don’t have the flu going in, you’ll catch it there. Let’s just go home. I’ll be fine with some cold medicine.”

Jiang Lin was still uneasy, but Shen Xing was adamant, clamoring repeatedly that he wanted canned yellow peaches and smashed cucumber salad, claiming that eating canned yellow peaches cured all ailments. Jiang Lin rested his forehead against Shen Xing’s to check the temperature; it didn’t feel scorching hot just yet, so he finally took him home.

Upon arriving home, Shen Xing curled lazily on the sofa hugging Qianjin. Jiang Lin hurried into the kitchen, whipping up two crisp, refreshing vegetable dishes as fast as he could, smashed a cucumber, and poured the canned yellow peaches into a bowl before serving it all up.

Shen Xing walked over and nuzzled him:

“Captain Jiang is so virtuous.”

Jiang Lin gave him a quick embrace, then gently guided him into a chair:

“Take some medicine after eating and go to bed early.”

For once, Shen Xing refrained from his usual late-night revenge bedtime procrastination on his phone. After taking his medicine, sleepiness washed over him the moment his head hit the pillow. Even so, he fought through the drowsiness until Jiang Lin finished showering, slipping his hands under the man’s pajamas to circle that firm waist before finally drifting off.

Jiang Lin slept lightly that night, waking almost every hour to check his temperature. By the second half of the night, he felt the heat radiating from the person beside him was completely wrong. A quick scan with the forehead thermometer showed 39.2°C (102.6°F)—barely an hour earlier, it had been just over 38°C. Not daring to delay, he hurriedly woke the groggy man, helped him dress, wrapped him in a blanket, and carried him straight downstairs.

Shen Xing’s face was flushed crimson, leaning dizzily against Jiang Lin while still mumbling that he didn’t want to go to the hospital.

“Be good. Your temperature climbed too fast. Let’s get it checked, or your brain will get fried.”

“Your brain is the one getting fried.”

When they reached the door, Shen Xing realized Jiang Lin actually intended to carry him down. He hurriedly shoved him:

“I can walk, I really can.”

What a joke—with Jiang Lin’s old injuries in his leg and arm, if he carried him all the way down, who knew which one of them would end up admitted to the hospital tomorrow.

Jiang Lin supported him downstairs and drove straight to the emergency department.

Shen Xing was well familiar with his own hospital’s ER, but arriving as a patient was a novel experience. Even past 1:00 AM, the ER was never short of patients. People visiting at this ungodly hour weren’t daytime workers squeezing in off-peak appointments; they had genuine acute emergencies—mostly trauma, cardiovascular crises, and, given the sudden cold snap, a severe seasonal flu spike. Never mind beds in the observation rooms—even the ER corridors were lined with temporary gurneys.

Jiang Lin registered for an appointment and led him to queue for blood work. The nurse on duty happened to recognize him:

“Director Shen, you got knocked down too? Director Wang from pediatrics was just in this morning. Come, let’s draw blood and take your temperature.”

Shen Xing forced a bitter smile; pediatrics was always the first department to fall during a flu outbreak.

As Shen Xing sat down and rolled up his sleeve, an ER doctor passing by spotted him, chatted for a couple of sentences, and checked his temperature:

“Oof, that fever is pretty high. Once your blood panel comes back, I’ll prescribe you an injection.”

When the blood panel arrived, Shen Xing could read it himself: viral infection compounded with mycoplasma infection. The ER doctor prescribed an intramuscular injection of compound aminopyrine. Jiang Lin found the drug’s name oddly familiar:

“Isn’t that the injection you threatened to give me when I had a fever last time?”

In a daze, Shen Xing recalled the time Jiang Lin had a fever back in Fulan County:

“I think so.”

Jiang Lin suddenly recalled the meme Shen Xing had sent him back then—a little bear crying its eyes out while getting an injection in the rear. Glancing at Director Shen, whose face was burning crimson, he felt Shen Xing bore an uncanny resemblance to that little bear.

“Director Shen, over here, please.”

The nurse over there waved him in for the shot. Jiang Lin, holding his coat, moved to follow, but Shen Xing turned around and gave him a push:

“Hey, where do you think you’re going? Wait here.”

Jiang Lin blinked:

“I’m worried you’ll cry from getting a shot in the butt, so I’m coming to check.”

Shen Xing laughed in exasperation:

“Get lost! Why would I cry over a simple butt shot? Wait outside.”

With that, he parted the privacy curtain and stepped inside. True enough, ER facilities were cramped; having a cloth curtain for an intramuscular injection was already considered fortunate. Just as he lay down on his stomach, a corner of the curtain was stealthily peeled back, revealing half of Captain Jiang’s furtive silhouette. Shen Xing nearly hurled his phone at him.

Jiang Lin watched Director Shen get jabbed right in the butt cheek with his own eyes. Only after the nurse left did he step in, leaning down with a grin:

“Need me to rub it for you?”

Shen Xing reached out and pinched his lower abdomen, glaring up at him:

“Don’t go telling people your husband is a doctor from now on—can you even rub a butt cheek that just got an intramuscular injection?!”

Jiang Lin stroked his ruffled hair:

“Understood. No rubbing. Let me pull your pants back up.”

Shen Xing: “…”

Shen Xing was helped to his feet. Jiang Lin asked in a low whisper:

“Can you still take it?” (TN: A pun on 坐 ‘zuò’ [to sit] and 做 ‘zuò’ [to do it])

Shen Xing rolled his eyes: What time is it, and you’re thinking of ‘doing it’?!

Jiang Lin saw he was about to puff up his fur and realized he had misunderstood. Between laughter and tears, he pointed to the lone empty chair left in the ER lobby:

“I was asking if you can sit down. Don’t overthink things, Director Shen.”

“Who’s overthinking?! Sit.”

Holding the prescription slip the doctor had just printed, Jiang Lin said:

“Wait for me here. Once I pick up the medicine, we’ll head home.”

Still dizzy with fever, Shen Xing nodded and waved him off. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, hoping to rest for a moment, when a massive commotion erupted outside the ER. Several ambulances pulled up in rapid succession. His extensive experience on ER night shifts told him that this almost certainly spelled bad news.

Sure enough, a multi-vehicle pileup. Gurneys stained with blood were wheeled in one after another. The on-duty ER doctors immediately began summoning emergency consultations from various departments, with orthopedics bearing the brunt of it. Within five minutes, Shen Xing spotted colleagues from his department rushing in.

Jiang Lin returned from picking up the medication, only to find Shen Xing surrounded by two doctors in white coats. Assuming something had happened, he hurried over with a tense expression:

“What’s wrong?”

Shen Xing looked up:

“Multi-vehicle pileup. The doctors from our department have all arrived. Pediatric emergency called for an urgent consult; I’m going over to take a look. Wait for me here.”

With that, he vigorously rubbed his face with both hands and stood up. Jiang Lin could see the ER was in utter chaos. It wasn’t uncommon for Shen Xing to be called away abruptly from home, but tonight, he was burning with a high fever.

“Alright. I’ll walk you over. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Shen Xing smiled:

“I’ll be fine. Your Director Shen is made of iron.”

Shen Xing was inside for nearly twenty minutes, and Jiang Lin stood outside waiting like a statue the entire time. Finally, the man emerged:

“How is it?”

“Are you asking about me or the kid? The kid is fine—conservative treatment will do, no surgery needed. As for me… I’m so sleepy, so tired, and I just want to go home.”

With his face burning, flushed red, Director Shen looked across at him. The sight broke Jiang Lin’s heart with sheer tenderness. Without another word, he bundled Shen Xing tightly in his coat and took him straight home.

After being tossed around for half the night, it was nearly 5:00 AM by the time they reached home. In a rare occurrence, both took the day off, and Shen Xing wrapped his arms around Captain Jiang’s waist, sinking into a deep, uninterrupted slumber.