DSMIS CH45

Chapter 45: Is It Really Normal to Stare at a Sleeping Man?

“Nobody wants me.”

Shen Xing’s words acted like a little hook. Jiang Lin looked at the person in front of him, whose mouth was stuffed with stir-fried pork, his cheeks puffing out like a little marmot. The words “I want you” almost slipped out of Jiang Lin’s mouth.

He steadied himself, remembering what Shen Xing had said earlier about starting university at 14, making him three or four years younger than his classmates. Such a tiny little bean of a classmate, wouldn’t he naturally be treated like a mascot? It really wouldn’t be easy to harbor improper thoughts towards someone that young. He was incredibly curious about what Doctor Shen looked like back when he first started university. Was he exceptionally cute too? Lost in thought, he ended up speaking his mind aloud:

“If only I had met you in college.”

Shen Xing looked up:

“Why?”

Jiang Lin smiled:

“Such a young classmate, you must have been very cute, right?”

Shen Xing swallowed the pork and couldn’t help but laugh:

“Hey, I was just young in age. I was already 1.78 meters (5’10”) tall at 14.”

For some reason, hearing Doctor Shen say this made Jiang Lin’s brain automatically conjure up the image of the “little bear proudly puffing out its chest” emoji that Shen Xing often sent. It was as if the little bear was also declaring, ‘I’m not short, I’m 178!’ He lowered his head and chuckled softly:

“Mm, very tall. So, what about after you started working? Didn’t anyone at your unit set you up on blind dates?”

A young, top-tier hospital doctor like Shen Xing should have been highly sought after. At this, Shen Xing genuinely nodded:

“They did introduce people to me, but I didn’t have time to date, and I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. So, I basically either politely declined or had one meal to make things clear. Haven’t you heard the saying, Hero? ‘Don’t marry a doctor, it’ll only lead to misery.'”

Hearing the word “marry,” Jiang Lin silently ate a dumpling. Doctor Shen probably doesn’t like men, he thought. Completely oblivious to Jiang Lin’s change in expression, Shen Xing grabbed another piece of pig ear and continued:

“Besides, in our department—orthopedics, you know how it is—there are barely any successful marriages and a basketful of failed ones. Plus, you know my parents’ situation. It’s a miracle I’m not outright terrified of marriage.”

Perhaps because he was always younger than his classmates throughout his student years, any nascent sparks of puberty during Shen Xing’s university days were swiftly crushed under the weight of thick medical textbooks. Counting back, not only had he never been in a relationship, he hadn’t even experienced a beautiful, secret crush. Thinking about it now, Shen Xing felt a slight tinge of regret. He looked at the person across from him. He wasn’t usually one to pry into someone’s romantic history, but at this moment, he was intensely curious about Captain Jiang’s past.

He poked his chopsticks at the pig ear a couple of times before picking it up:

“What about you, Captain Jiang? Do you have any romantic history?”

Jiang Lin looked up:

“Curious?”

Shen Xing nodded immediately:

“Yeah. With your broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs, you must have been very popular in school, right? Have you ever dated?”

“The coursework at the Public Security University was very intense, so I never met anyone I liked. After graduating and becoming an anti-narcotics cop, I thought about those things even less. No stories to tell you.”

Without realizing it himself, Shen Xing felt quite pleased upon hearing this answer:

“That’s okay. Captain Jiang not having a romantic history to share is perfectly understandable. After all, you have such outstanding achievements. Having a successful career is great too.”

When Shen Xing was happy, his eyes practically sparkled. Looking at him, Jiang Lin felt a strong urge to reach out and touch his face. He quickly lowered his head, grabbed another dumpling, and didn’t dare let his thoughts wander further.

“Don’t just eat, give me a review. How are the dumplings I made?”

“Mm, they taste incredibly good. Good enough to open a restaurant.”

After the meal, Jiang Lin took the initiative to clean up the table, but Shen Xing blocked him:

“No rush to clean up. Go lie down on the bed, let me check your leg.”

Jiang Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry:

“Director Shen, I’m too stuffed. I can’t lie down.”

Shen Xing also hugged his own stomach; he was too stuffed to lie down as well:

“The stir-fried pork you made really was amazing. Come here, sit down.”

With that, he stood up and pointed to the office chair he had just been sitting on. Jiang Lin had no choice but to sit there, while Shen Xing took the small round stool Jiang Lin had been using and patted his own lap:

“Put it up here.”

Jiang Lin froze. Shen Xing urged:

“I ate too much. I feel like if I bend over, I’ll throw up. Hurry up, your one leg won’t crush me.”

He patted his thigh again. Jiang Lin could only slowly lift his leg, exuding a sense of profound awkwardness from head to toe. Shen Xing didn’t notice, however, because his entire focus was on Captain Jiang’s incredibly long legs. As if his brain had suddenly short-circuited, he reached out, stroked Jiang Lin’s leg, and blurted out:

“Captain Jiang, if you debuted in the entertainment industry, these legs alone would be worth fifty thousand.”

A beat of silence descended upon the room. Jiang Lin felt as if a string of electric currents had shot through the spot Shen Xing touched. He raised a hand to cover his eyes:

“Director Shen, please spare my life.”

Shen Xing also realized what he had just done and suddenly felt a bit flushed. He coughed softly twice:

“I stayed up all night, so my brain is a little foggy. Please excuse me, excuse me.”

He then rolled up Jiang Lin’s pant leg, pulling the long johns underneath up as well. Sure enough, touching the leg felt like touching a block of ice. The calf was severely swollen, even affecting the ankle, where the sock had left deep indentations. Shen Xing frowned:

“Did you not sleep at all this morning? With it swollen this badly, why were you cooking?”

“It’s fine. I’ll just lie down for a bit when I get back, and it’ll be okay.”

Shen Xing suddenly looked up:

“Did you take painkillers last night?”

This leg was most susceptible to cold and prolonged standing. Once chilled, it easily triggered nerve pain, which was very difficult to relieve through sheer endurance alone. And he had been on duty last night.

Whenever discussing his medical condition, Director Shen’s imposing aura became exceptionally pronounced. Jiang Lin didn’t quite dare to lie:

“Yeah, just one pill. I didn’t overdose.”

“Which implies you frequently overdosed in the past.”

Jiang Lin fell silent.

Shen Xing let out a hmph from his nose and lowered his leg:

“Can you still walk?”

“Yes.”

“Then come with me.”

Jiang Lin braced his hand on the desk to stand, but Shen Xing still supported his arm. Finding his left wrist, Shen Xing instinctively rubbed it a couple of times before leading him to the physiotherapy room next to the ER:

“No one is in the Rehabilitation Department today. I’ll give you a therapeutic massage. The swelling won’t go down easily if you go back like this.”

Seeing the heavy dark circles under Shen Xing’s eyes, Jiang Lin quickly protested:

“I can just use the heat lamp. You don’t need to massage it. You stayed up all night, you should hurry up and get some sleep.”

While adjusting the position and parameters of the physiotherapy lamp, Shen Xing replied:

“Don’t worry. Your Director Shen charges for three hours and runs for a whole day. I already charged up this morning.”

Shen Xing rolled up his pant leg, aimed the heat lamp at his calf, covered him with a blanket, raised the head of the bed, and patted him with his hand:

“Go to sleep, go to sleep. You’ll feel better in a bit.”

Feeling Director Shen patting him like a child, Jiang Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry:

“You’re making it sound like you’re about to drug me.”

Shen Xing pulled up a stool and sat by his leg. Hearing this, he reached out and pinched Jiang Lin’s calf:

“I’m letting you experience Director Shen’s massage technique. Don’t act like you’re being wronged while reaping the benefits.”

“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.”

Once the heat lamp was turned on, the constant chill emanating from his leg did indeed improve significantly. Shen Xing rubbed his hands together vigorously to warm them up, applied a few drops of blood-circulating medicated oil to his palms, and gently rested his hands on Jiang Lin’s calf. He then began massaging from the calf down to the ankle.

The mere thought of Shen Xing massaging his leg made it hard for Jiang Lin to stay calm. However, the warm, soothing sensation was incredibly comfortable, feeling as if a feather were brushing across his entire body. Having not slept all night, the sheer willpower holding him together finally began to dissipate.

The only sound in the physiotherapy room was the faint hum of the machine. Before long, Shen Xing felt Jiang Lin’s breathing even out. He looked up and saw that Jiang Lin had turned his head slightly and was already fast asleep. Driven by a bizarre impulse, he leaned in for a closer look.

His superior bone structure ensured that even lying down like this, Jiang Lin’s face was strikingly handsome. Captain Jiang’s eyelashes were very long, resting like small fans beneath his eyes. Shen Xing almost wanted to reach out and flick them. He suddenly recalled a manga plot the young nurses in their department were reading: a beautiful youth kissing a sickly beauty in bed. Jiang Lin’s face looked remarkably similar to the character in that manga.

He instinctively shifted his gaze to Jiang Lin’s lips. The moment he realized what he was thinking, Shen Xing startled himself and quickly averted his eyes.

He took several deep breaths, his heart pounding wildly. He vaguely sensed that something was wrong with him. Staring at a sleeping man’s face and thinking of that kind of manga was far too weird.

Could it just be because Jiang Lin is too good-looking? He couldn’t help but think of Patrick Star. In all fairness, Patrick Star was also quite handsome. He imagined Patrick Star falling asleep in front of him… yeah, he wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

While his mind raced with these chaotic thoughts, his hands never stopped soothing Jiang Lin’s meridians. He only snapped back to reality when the physiotherapy timer chimed and the lamp turned off. He gently pulled down Jiang Lin’s pant leg, tucked him in with the blanket, and quietly slipped out of the room.

Shen Xing’s mind was a bit jumbled. He went to the ER in the afternoon and handled two emergency suturing cases. The familiar procedures gradually calmed him down. However, whenever he entered or exited the ER, he would subconsciously glance toward the adjacent physiotherapy room. That door remained quiet, undisturbed by anyone.

Jiang Lin truly slept incredibly soundly, so much so that when he opened his eyes again, it was already getting dark outside. The physiotherapy room was dim. It took him a moment to process where he was. He threw off the blanket, sat up, and instinctively checked his left leg, testing its mobility slightly. The previous, bone-deep throbbing ache had almost entirely faded, and the icy, drafty sensation was gone as well.

The door to the physiotherapy room finally opened. Shen Xing, having just stepped out of the emergency operating room, came face-to-face with Jiang Lin emerging from the room. Jiang Lin’s hair was slightly messy, and his face was slightly flushed, perhaps from sleeping hotly. Seeing his face, the calm Shen Xing had only just regained seemed to ripple once more:

“You’re awake? Does your leg feel better?”

Jiang Lin nodded:

“Mm, much better. Director Shen truly lives up to his name.”

Shen Xing found his praise somewhat amusing:

“I still have a bit of time before I get off work. Go wait in my office.”

By the time the two of them left the hospital, it was almost 6 PM. Since it was the first day of the Lunar New Year, Jiang Lin checked his watch and said:

“It’s probably too late to go back and cook. Want to have hot pot or eat out?”

Remembering that Jiang Lin had done all the cooking the past few times, Shen Xing replied directly:

“Let’s eat out. No need to clean up. Isn’t today the Tibetan New Year too? It’s the perfect time to go out and join the festivities.”

“Sounds good. I heard from a colleague that there are folk performances in front of Shipa Street today. It should be quite lively.”

Shen Xing held out his hand:

“Car keys. I’ll drive.”

Jiang Lin handed him the keys. Only then did Shen Xing realize these were his car keys—he and Jiang Lin still hadn’t swapped their cars back.

To fit the occasion, they decided to find a Tibetan restaurant and drove towards Shipa Street. Upon arriving, they realized the crowds here were no less than at the civic square last night. Shen Xing drove around for fifteen minutes before finding a parking spot, but they still had to walk a bit.

Having not gone home last night, Shen Xing was still wearing the brick-red windbreaker and the newly bought scarf. Jiang Lin was wearing the scarf Shen Xing had given him. As they walked through the crowd wearing similar scarves, the bustling festive atmosphere left Shen Xing—who had been awake for nearly a day and a night—feeling slightly dazed:

“It’s so lively. Which place are we going to, Hero?”

Jiang Lin scanned the row of Tibetan restaurants:

“You choose.”

The Tibetan restaurants lining the street were all distinctively decorated. There were many people out today. The colorful shop signs reflecting the strolling tourists gave Shen Xing the illusion that he hadn’t just gotten off work for dinner, but was actually on vacation. He examined the signature dishes on each restaurant’s signboard, completely oblivious to the gaze of the person beside him resting solely on his face. Soon, his attention was drawn to a photo of a specialty dish on a signboard:

“Hero, I want to eat Tibetan-style roasted lamb chops.”

Following his gaze, Jiang Lin saw that the entrance to the restaurant was very crowded:

“Let’s go.”

“Table for two? There will be a short wait; there are three tables ahead of you,” the young waiter dressed in Tibetan attire said with a smile.

Jiang Lin turned to Shen Xing:

“Are you hungry?”

“A little, but I still want to eat here.”

“Then we’ll wait a bit.”

“Okay.”

The two of them sat on the waiting chairs at the entrance. Shen Xing was actually quite hungry, but he was stubborn; once he set his mind on eating something, he would rather wait than change his mind. Suddenly, his stomach let out a loud rumble—loud enough for Jiang Lin, sitting next to him, to hear. He instantly felt a little embarrassed. Jiang Lin smiled and stood up:

“Sit here and wait for me.”

Jiang Lin pushed the door open and went out. Less than ten minutes later, he returned holding an oil-paper box. He opened it in front of Shen Xing, revealing two golden, crispy baked buns (kao baozi):

“Have a bite to tide you over. Three tables might take a while.”

Shen Xing’s eyes lit up at the sight of the baked buns. He felt it really wasn’t his fault for having chaotic thoughts; Jiang Lin was simply too incredibly thoughtful:

“Captain Jiang.”

Doctor Shen sat in the chair, tilted his head back, and looked up at Jiang Lin with the exact same eager, burning gaze he had just used to stare at the baked buns. Just this one glance made Captain Jiang feel as if his entire body had been swept by a feather. His mind went blank for a second, and he actually picked up a bun and brought it right to Shen Xing’s lips.

__

Author’s Note:

Doctor Shen is an absolute sucker for good looks. If he’s not touching Captain Jiang’s leg, he’s touching his hand.