Whispers & Care
The ER room slowly began to quiet after the IV and oxygen had been administered. The monitor displayed numbers that were starting to stabilize, although Xiaoxi's body still lay weak on the bed. At her bedside, Yu Chen stood tall, broad-shouldered, his sharp gaze fixed on the monitor as if refusing to look away even for a moment.
But small whispers began to ripple through the room.
A nurse who had just changed the IV drip glanced over, eyes widening. She leaned toward her colleague and whispered in a panic:
"That's… Wei Yu Chen, right? The one who's always on TV…?"
Her fellow nurse turned reflexively, equally shocked.
"Oh my God, it is! Wei Yu Chen! Not just TV—his face is on gigantic billboards in almost every city. All the shopping centers, street posters, big brand ads… they all use his face!"
"Oh God, it really is Wei Yu Chen… a top actor, the country's most expensive brand ambassador."
In an instant, several people in the ward started to take notice. Phones were raised, cameras switched on, recording discretely. The glow of screens and flashes occasionally illuminated Yu Chen's face.
Only then did Yu Chen become aware—when the reflected light landed on him. He slowly lifted his head; his sharp eyes swept the room. In that moment he realized: tonight he was wearing no hat, no mask.
A heavy breath escaped his lips.
"Hffffttt…"
His jaw tightened, the line of his brow contracted, but his expression remained cold, composed, authoritative. As if he chose not to panic despite knowing every eye was on him.
In his mind he could already picture what would happen tomorrow: social media flooded with headlines, speculation, and videos of him at the ER at midnight with an unfamiliar woman.
His shoulders shifted slightly, as if brushing off the weight clinging to him. His sharp alpha aura radiated so strongly that some of those who had been recording were intimidated and hurriedly lowered their phones.
Despite the murmurs and scattered cameras, Yu Chen stayed focused on one thing: Xiaoxi, lying weak on the bed. As long as she was before him, he was willing to be the center of attention—even a scandal—just to ensure she survived.
Yu Chen's phone connected quickly. After a brief explanation, Jiang Fan rushed to the hospital. Less than half an hour later, his hurried footsteps echoed into the ER.
By then the white curtains had been drawn shut, blocking outside view. The familiar bustle of a Chinese hospital ER—long hallways with footsteps and doctors calling orders—served as the backdrop as Jiang Fan pulled back the curtain and entered the small room where Yu Chen stood.
He carried a black cap and a medical mask, which he immediately offered to Yu Chen.
> "Next time don't be reckless, Ge. You know how anti-scandal the public is here. The public reaction can be like a storm—terrifying and uncontrollable."
Yu Chen accepted the cap and mask, putting them on slowly while his face remained expressionless, his eyes never leaving Xiaoxi's body on the bed. His voice was low and calm, but a note of frustration crept in:
"How could I even think about that? I was in a hurry… I didn't even realize."
A heavy, cold breath seemed to be swallowed by the hush of the curtain.
"Public sentiment in this country is brutal."
Jiang Fan patted his shoulder briefly, then turned to look at Xiaoxi, still pale on the bed. His brow furrowed and his voice came out sharp, though concern leaked through:
"How could this girl fall ill like this?"
Yu Chen glanced at him briefly, expression still cool.
"Because she's reckless. She fainted… probably hasn't eaten."
Jiang Fan blinked for a moment, then let out a short laugh.
"Heh. True. Look at her—small, thin, skin and bones. In this day and age, someone malnourished like this still exists."
Yu Chen did not join the laughter. He only looked down at Xiaoxi, his fingers clenched at his side. Beneath his calm face, a subtle ripple flickered in his eyes—somewhere between annoyance, pity, and… care.
Footsteps sounded behind the curtain. A middle-aged doctor in a white coat entered, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. His face was composed and authoritative. He checked the monitor beside the bed, then examined Xiaoxi, whose face was still pale.
The IV drip had nearly run its course; the fluids were slowly absorbing into her body. The monitor showed heart rate and blood pressure stabilizing. The doctor switched on a small penlight, checked her pupils' response, and laid a hand on her forehead briefly before turning to Yu Chen and Jiang Fan.
"The patient's condition has improved. Her body temperature is normalizing, and her blood pressure has returned to stable levels. The IV has been absorbed. Options: she can stay admitted for observation, or if there is family willing to care for her, she may be discharged home."
Yu Chen glanced at Jiang Fan, his expression unchanged. Jiang Fan exhaled, folding his hands as he quickly weighed the situation. He leaned slightly toward the doctor, voice low but steady:
> "Doctor, if she stays here, the news will spread fast. The hospital will be swarmed by reporters. We have to bring her home tonight."
The doctor regarded Jiang Fan with understanding. He'd seen situations like this before—names like Wei Yu Chen attract attention all too easily. He nodded.
"Alright. But there are several precautions. Ensure the patient rests fully—no exertion at all. Diet must be closely managed—nutrient-dense foods, especially protein and vitamins. Her condition shows signs of malnutrition, so make sure she eats regularly. And keep her hydrated. If a high fever recurs, return immediately."
Yu Chen listened intently, his eyes cold but his jaw set—each instruction clearly imprinting itself in his mind. Jiang Fan patted Yu Chen's arm lightly, signaling they needed to leave soon.
The doctor closed the medical chart, then added in a gentler tone:
"I trust you can take care of her. Don't leave her alone for now."
Yu Chen inclined his head briefly in thanks. That night the decision was final: Xiaoxi would be taken home—with all the risks that entailed.
With careful steps, Yu Chen lifted Xiaoxi from behind the curtain. The small body slept in his arms, her pale face resting against his chest. His movements were steady; his aura remained cold and unshakable even as a few glances followed them from the distance.
Outside the ER doors Jiang Fan waited, keys in hand.
> "Ge, use my car. Your car's been taken by staff; it's in the lobby. I'll fetch it later."
Yu Chen glanced briefly, expression still flat.
"Fine."
They moved quickly through the corridors to the parking area. Neon lights reflected long shadows of Yu Chen as he gently lowered Xiaoxi into the back seat of Jiang Fan's car. His motions remained controlled, ensuring she was comfortable and covered.
As the car door was about to close, Yu Chen paused, his voice low and sharp:
"Have you contacted the IT team about tonight's issue?"
Jiang Fan chuckled softly, a reassuring grin on his lips, his tone casual but calming.
> "Already, Ge. Don't worry. Our team's competent. Because the number of people at this hospital is low, we can still manage the situation. Social media? Don't worry—initial traces can be handled."
Yu Chen closed the door quietly, then stood straight beside the car, staring into the dim streetlights. A strand of hair fell across his face; his expression remained cold and untouched, yet his eyes hinted at the storm within.
That night, in silent coordination, both men knew: the scandal must be contained, and Xiaoxi must be secured first.
The car sped through the city streets lit by street lamps. From the backseat, Yu Chen's voice was calm but firm, breaking the silence:
> "Where to, Ge?" "To the penthouse," Jiang Fan replied briefly, his eyes never leaving the road, while Yu Chen's gaze never left the pale face of Xiaoxi sleeping in his arms.
Jiang Fan simply nodded, hands steady on the wheel. Few words were spoken, but his head teemed with questions. From time to time he glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a rare sight: Wei Yu Chen—the man always aloof and untouchable—sitting and cradling a girl with genuine worry on his face.
In Jiang Fan's mind he murmured: He's actually caring for someone. Maybe this… maybe this could be a way out for him.
His gaze returned to the road as the light changed green, the car gliding smoothly toward the city center. In the back, Yu Chen still bent his head, fingers smoothing a stray lock of Xiaoxi's hair from her face—his expression flat, yet his eyes brimming with tension.
In the car's hush, everyone held their own hope.