DSMIS CH60

Chapter 60: Parting Draws Near

By the third day after Cao Shulan’s arrival, Liu Xiaohu was already able to clearly recognize people. Jiang Lin wasn’t surprised in the least; after all, if Xiaohu couldn’t recognize people, his gossipy curiosity wouldn’t have shocked him into snapping his eyes open in the first place.

His recovery progressed rapidly, an improvement made all the more noticeable by Jiang Lin’s weekly visits. By the time Jiang Lin visited this time, Xiaohu was already able to sit propped up and manage brief sentences.

Perhaps from having slept for so long, or because everyday life in the hospital ward was simply too dull, a man who had never been particularly talkative was now remarkably chatty.

When Jiang Lin walked in with Heibao, Liu Xiaohu tilted his head slightly to look over. Though the movement was stiff and sluggish, for someone who had been bedridden for over a year, it was already immense progress.

The moment Heibao saw him, he wagged his tail excitedly and trotted over. Liu Xiaohu moved the fingers on his right hand, lightly tapping the dog’s head, and then looked at Jiang Lin, squeezing out a single word:

“Alone?”

Jiang Lin smiled, taking a seat beside him:

“Who else were you hoping to see?”

Shen Xing had flown to Beijing with him once last month, but upon landing, the two split up—Jiang Lin brought Heibao to the hospital to see Liu Xiaohu, while Shen Xing met up with former classmates for a meal. As a result, Liu Xiaohu hadn’t actually seen Shen Xing since regaining consciousness.

Xiaohu blinked, squeezing out another phrase:

“Life… savior.”

“Your life-saving benefactor is currently busy healing the sick and saving lives at Fulan County Hospital. He didn’t have time to join me this week. Next time—when there’s a chance, you can thank him face-to-face.”

“How… did you… meet?”

Crossing his arms, Jiang Lin sat by the bed:

“Since when did you get this gossipy?”

Liu Xiaohu flushed. Truthfully, he wasn’t normally that gossipy, but the revelation that Captain Jiang liked men was simply too explosive. He had even wondered if Jiang Lin had fabricated the whole person on the spot that day.

Later, however, his mother told him that even her fracture surgery had been performed by that very same Director Shen from the Yunnan aid mission. Naturally, his curiosity flared even higher, accompanied by a genuine desire to thank Director Shen in person.

Jiang Lin indulged him anyway. Xu Huai had advised talking to Xiaohu as much as possible to exercise his auditory comprehension and verbal expression. Sitting beside the bed, Jiang Lin recounted their story like telling a tale. Xiaohu listened raptly as if reading a serialized novel, and an entire morning slipped by before they knew it.

Pity that the Director Shen of the story wasn’t actually at the hospital healing the sick today—because he was busy saving a dog. Waking up early that morning, he discovered Qianjin was vomiting. Panicked, he scooped up his chubby “semi-truck” and rushed straight to the county veterinary clinic. After a battery of tests, the diagnosis was bacterial gastroenteritis.

Inside the clinic room, Shen Xing stood holding a bundle of medications. The massive white furball lay listlessly on the exam table, its tender pink ears drooping mournfully, wrenching Shen Xing’s heart. He sat beside it and stroked its head; the big lump let out kitten-like whines from the back of its throat, repeatedly burying its muzzle into his chest, making Shen Xing feel terribly protective.

The finicky creature couldn’t keep oral medicine down and kept vomiting, leaving IV fluid infusion as the only option. Shen Xing snapped a photo of the Samoyed’s furry paw hooked up to the IV drip and sent it to Jiang Lin.

The moment Jiang Lin saw the picture, an incoming video call rang:

“What happened to Qianjin?”

“Bacterial gastroenteritis. He threw up this morning and scared the life out of me, so I rushed him over. Come on, Qianjin, let your Uncle Jiang see how pitiful you look.”

The camera panned over to the white furball. Hearing the name “Qianjin,” Heibao in the Beijing ward instantly pricked up his ears and raised his head. On screen, the usually bouncy, energetic furball lay limp on the examination table, whimpering softly.

Heibao dashed straight to Jiang Lin’s hand, stretching his neck to nudge the chubby dog on screen with his snout. Jiang Lin gently dodged him, placed a hand on Heibao’s head to ruffle his fur, and asked Shen Xing:

“What did the vet say? Is it serious?”

Stroking the Samoyed’s bugle-shaped ears, Shen Xing replied:

“It’s manageable. We brought him in early. But he has to fast for 24 hours—perfect opportunity for this semi-truck to lose weight. He’s just too delicate; won’t take pills, so we had to put him on an IV. Are you at the hospital?”

Jiang Lin glanced back at Liu Xiaohu and realized Xiaohu and Heibao were staring at his phone screen with identical, transfixed expressions:

“Yeah. Want to say hello?”

Shen Xing had no objections. He turned the camera around. When the screen shifted, Liu Xiaohu took a moment to register what he was seeing. This… this face on the screen was his mother’s attending surgeon, his life-saving benefactor, and Captain Jiang’s boyfriend. Struggling with speech as he was, he was even more at a loss for words, stiffly greeting him:

“D-Director Shen… hello.”

Looking at the young man on the screen, clad in hospital scrubs and propped up in bed, Shen Xing noted that although he was quite gaunt, his spirit seemed fairly robust. Befitting a former police officer, his physical foundation was solid; an ordinary person bedridden for a year would probably struggle even to sit upright by now.

Still, the way he delivered his greeting made Shen Xing feel like a student addressing a teacher. He smiled warmly:

“Hello. You can just call me Shen Xing. I visited you once before, though you probably don’t remember. I looked over your chart; your clinical indicators are steadily improving. Don’t put too much psychological pressure on yourself. Rehabilitation isn’t something achieved overnight—take it slow.”

Whenever Shen Xing saw hospital scrubs, his internal system automatically toggled to “Doctor Mode.” What started as a casual greeting between peers quickly morphed into an attending surgeon’s morning ward rounds. Jiang Lin bowed his head with a chuckle. Clasping the bedsheet with his newly mobile fingers in nervous reverence, Liu Xiaohu nodded:

“I understand.”

Jiang Lin exchanged a few more words with Shen Xing before hanging up.

Seeing that the phone screen—which had clearly shown Qianjin just a second ago—was suddenly blank, Heibao pounced straight toward the phone. Jiang Lin caught him, pulling him into an affectionate embrace with a laugh, then turned to Liu Xiaohu on the bed:

“Let me tell you, Heibao is nothing like the dog you used to train. Back on the force, he looked down on every other police dog, and no other dog was allowed to so much as touch his food. Now, he voluntarily surrenders his canned food to Qianjin.”

Liu Xiaohu knew Qianjin referred to that chubby Samoyed from the video. He looked at the dog he had raised from puppyhood. Heibao wasn’t neutered, and he was retired now. If… He looked up at Jiang Lin:

“Is Qianjin a female?”

If conditions were right, a pairing between Heibao and Qianjin wouldn’t be half bad. He just wondered what a German Shepherd–Samoyed mix would look like—would the coat be black or white?

Before his imagination could run wild, Jiang Lin shattered his daydream:

“Qianjin is male.”

Liu Xiaohu froze:

“A male dog… named Qianjin [Precious Daughter]?”

Recalling his own reaction when he first discovered Qianjin was male, Jiang Lin laughed:

“Yeah. The little guy is terribly delicate, behaves just like a pampered young lady. But from what I’ve seen, Heibao actually adores his young-lady tantrums. He even lets him use his belly as a pillow.”

Liu Xiaohu’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He knew Heibao’s temperament better than anyone; during training, he had been the undisputed tyrant of the canine academy. Had he not entered official civil service, he would have easily earned the street title of ‘Scarface’ in the canine underworld. And he let another dog use his belly as a pillow?!

By the time Jiang Lin arrived home, it was already Sunday night. Pushing open the door, a rich, savory aroma of instant noodles greeted him. Looking up, he saw Director Shen, dressed in light yellow loungewear, sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the sofa slurping noodles. The Samoyed lay listlessly beside him. For some reason, the sight tugged at Jiang Lin’s heartstrings.

Hearing the door open, Shen Xing looked up and flashed him a radiant smile:

“Have you eaten? It’s the Deluxe Edition instant noodles—want me to share a bite?”

The man and dog at the door stepped inside simultaneously. Heibao trotted straight to Qianjin, touching nose to nose. Qianjin immediately let out an aggrieved, whiny whimper, thrusting his large head against Heibao’s flank.

Heibao lay down on his side, and the fluffy white lump settled into a comfortable spot against him, resting his head squarely on Heibao’s warm belly.

Jiang Lin walked over to the sofa, ruffled Shen Xing’s hair, and bent down to press a kiss to his lips:

“Why are you eating instant noodles at home?”

Shen Xing tilted his head up and returned the kiss:

“Just craved the taste. I figured you’d be hungry when you got back, so I made plenty. Go ladle some for yourself.”

The two sat opposite each other, each with a bowl of Shen’s Deluxe Instant Noodles.

Jiang Lin glanced toward the two dogs:

“Can Qianjin eat now?”

“The 24-hour mark just passed, so I gave him a bit of the vet-prescribed rice porridge. Greedy creature—he turns his nose up at it without meat.”

“Is the surgical patient stable? You don’t need to head into the hospital tonight, do you?”

Shen Xing knew he was referring to the knee replacement patient from earlier:

“Seeing that I’m still lounging at home at this hour, you know everything’s fine. The patient is relatively young with no underlying comorbidities; there shouldn’t be issues.”

After all, as the county hospital’s inaugural joint replacement, they had screened for a low-risk candidate.

Shen Xing finished off the large bowl of noodles, a sheen of perspiration beading on his forehead. As Jiang Lin stood up to clear the dishes, Shen Xing, feeling stuffed, trailed behind him like a little tail. His hands mischievously grazed Jiang Lin’s lower abdomen before wrapping firmly around his waist, clinging to his back like a koala bear. Suddenly, a wave of sentimentality washed over him:

“Time really flies. In the blink of an eye, I’ve been here for over half a year.”

He had arrived in Yunnan in October, and it was already mid-May. Seven and a half months had passed like a dream. Resting his chin on Captain Jiang’s shoulder, Shen Xing murmured:

“You have less than two months before you have to head back, don’t you?”

Jiang Lin had arrived in July; with June right around the corner, his one-year assignment was nearing its conclusion. Jiang Lin tilted his head, brushing his lips against Shen Xing’s cheek:

“I’ll see if I can apply for a three-month extension.”

He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Shen Xing here alone, though he truly had no certainty whether such an application would be approved.

Shen Xing’s fingers lightly traced patterns across his chest:

“Extensions aren’t easy to get in your line of work, right? They’ve probably already slated your next post back home. It’s fine if it doesn’t get approved; I can handle three months of long-distance.”

He said he could handle it, but the downtrodden cadence in Director Shen’s voice was impossible to disguise. Jiang Lin hadn’t even departed yet, and Shen Xing was already aching with reluctance.

Now that Liu Xiaohu was fully conscious, his psychological reliance on Heibao was no longer as acute as during the semi-comatose stage. Consequently, Jiang Lin ceased his weekly flights to Beijing. For the remaining month and a half, he practically seized every spare second—even bathroom breaks at work—to exchange messages with Director Shen.

In an instant, he fully empathized with his college roommates who used to camp outside their girlfriends’ dorms morning, noon, and night. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to tether himself to Director Shen’s hip.

Shen Xing, on the other hand, had grown significantly busier with the introduction of new surgical procedures at the county hospital. Stepping out of the operating room that day, he once again found Jiang Lin waiting outside. After briefing the patient’s family, he escorted Jiang Lin back to his office. With no one else inside, Shen Xing spun around, pinning the man behind him against the door, raising an eyebrow:

“Captain Jiang, you’re getting terribly clingy lately.”

Instinctively hooking an arm around his waist, Jiang Lin countered:

“Is Director Shen getting tired of me already?”

“Director Shen isn’t tired of you. Director Shen is a mere mortal of earthly desires.”

Jiang Lin gathered him into his arms and kissed him:

“Tonight, let’s go eat at that roasted lamb chop place you love. Didn’t you say yesterday you craved their yogurt?”

That evening, watching the man across the table waging battle against the lamb chops, Jiang Lin suddenly spoke up:

“You don’t need to be at the hospital this weekend, do you?”

“Nope. Are you heading to Beijing to see Xiaohu? I can come along.”

“Not going. He’s just doing routine physical therapy now. I don’t even have enough time to spend with you—let him focus on his rehab.”

Shen Xing burst into laughter:

“Doesn’t that count as prioritizing romance over your brothers? Add a bit of honey for me.”

Shen Xing’s hands were greasy with food, so Jiang Lin drizzled some honey into the bowl of yogurt, stirred it evenly, and brought a spoonful directly to his lips:

“I’ve already shown immense restraint. Since you’re free this weekend, let’s take a trip to Biluo Snow Mountain. We’ve been in Yunnan all this time without ever getting a proper, close-up look at a snow-capped peak.”

Shen Xing looked up:

“Biluo Snow Mountain? Is it nearby?”

“Just over a hundred kilometers away—about a two-and-a-half-hour drive. We can leave straight from work on Friday evening.”

Director Shen was always keen on road trips, promptly flashing an “OK” gesture.

Over the next two days, while Director Shen was swamped with hospital duties, Captain Jiang took charge of booking the hotel, mapping the itinerary, and prepping their gear and provisions.

The moment Shen Xing clocked off on Friday, the black Land Cruiser was already idling at the hospital gates. Behind the wheel sat Captain Jiang, clad in a sleek black windbreaker and looking like a runway model, with the two fluffy dogs settled in the back. Shen Xing hopped into the passenger seat, and Jiang Lin leaned over to click his seatbelt into place.

Out of respect for the public hospital gates, Jiang Lin refrained from kissing him directly, yet their breath mingled so closely that Shen Xing’s respiration hitched slightly.

Before shifting into drive, Jiang Lin handed Shen Xing a Snow Top Coffee from Mixue Bingcheng:

“It’s melted a little.”

“Captain Jiang, did you skip work this afternoon or something?”

Work literally just ended, how are you already waiting here fully loaded?

Jiang Lin blinked:

“Just slipped out a few minutes early.”

Taking a sip of the coffee, Shen Xing chuckled:

“I’m realizing you’re quite ‘love-brained.'”

Igniting the engine, Jiang Lin asked earnestly:

“What does ‘love-brained’ mean?”

Shen Xing: “…”

“I forgot you’re basically a landline phone. And don’t ask me what a landline phone means either.”

Jiang Lin: “Oh.”

By May, temperatures in Fulan County had risen considerably, melting many of the snowcaps visible during winter. But as they traveled further north, the altitude climbed steadily, gradually unveiling pristine, snow-blanketed ridges.

The sun dipped lower in the western sky, casting molten gold across the distant snow peaks and streaming through the windshield onto Jiang Lin’s profile. Shen Xing suddenly spoke up:

“Find a spot to pull over.”

Assuming he had an urgent need, Jiang Lin located a safe roadside turnout and brought the car to a stop. The moment the tires halted, he felt arms loop around his neck.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Shen Xing practically threw himself onto the man beside him, turning Jiang Lin’s face toward him and kissing him soundly. His hands slipped under Captain Jiang’s windbreaker, circling his waist.

Ever since they got together, Director Shen had entertained zero notions of restraint. After being single since the womb for so many years, he was entitled to indulge in the finest delicacies! This was his man—he had every right to touch him whenever and however he pleased.

Jiang Lin was thoroughly accustomed to his frequent roguish antics. Leaning into the kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around Shen Xing. Never in his life had he felt someone was this vital to his existence.

Vital enough that he wanted to hold him while sleeping, gaze at him while awake, and remain hopelessly entangled with him every second of the day. Emotions he had once failed to comprehend had, through Shen Xing’s presence, reduced him to an ordinary mortal driven by earthly desire.

The golden sunset slowly dimmed into twilight. Jiang Lin’s breath grew ragged. Cupping the back of Shen Xing’s head, his voice dropped to a husky, primal rasp:

“I hope Director Shen stays this enthusiastic tonight.”

Far from feeling embarrassed by the tease, Shen Xing narrowed his eyes like a cunning, lazy cat:

“And here I thought Captain Jiang was daring enough to do it out in the wild with me.”

Jiang Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Pulling him flush against his chest, the low rumble of his chuckling vibrated against Shen Xing’s ribs:

“You really will be the death of me.”