The rental apartment’s door had no threshold, leaving a gap between the door and floor. Qi Yan had stuffed the gap with rags earlier to keep out snakes and insects.
Qi Ran crawled to the shoe rack by the entrance. Thankfully, there was no latch or lock on the inside—otherwise, she’d have had to force it open.
She untied the red string from her left wrist. Alongside the golden bell, her house key was tied to it.
A text notification chimed on her phone.
*"I’m here. Toss the key out."*
That bossy tone grated on her nerves. But Qi Ran knew she had no right to sulk. Her brother came first.
She reached out, pulled the rags aside, and tossed the red string out. The bell clinked sharply against the floor.
*Click.*
The door creaked open slowly. Su Shiyu stood in the doorway, arms akimbo, her hoodie pulled up to hide her cute twin tails.
If she’d swapped the thin wooden stick dangling from her lips for a cigarette, she’d have looked like a proper delinquent.
Su Shiyu sighed at Qi Ran’s dusty, disheveled state. "What a mess. I knew something like this would happen someday..."
Qi Ran pressed her lips together, unable to argue back.
"Let me get you into your wheelchair first. Lying on this cold floor? If you catch a chill too, I can’t handle two patients."
Though every fiber of her being recoiled at being touched by anyone but her brother, now wasn’t the time for stubbornness.
Qi Ran gave a slight nod. Su Shiyu stepped forward, slid her hands under Qi Ran’s armpits, and lifted her like a toddler.
After settling Qi Ran into her wheelchair, Su Shiyu tossed the red string aside and rushed to Qi Yan’s prone form.
"Senior! Senior!" She shook his shoulders, voice tight with worry.
"Burning up... Has the fever fried his brain? What do I do now? What—?"
Panic turned her thoughts to static. She paced frantically like an ant on a hot griddle, her usually sharp mind useless.
Rubbing her temples, Su Shiyu forced herself to calm down.
"Sister said... for high fevers at home, cool the body first. Ice, alcohol, wet towels."
With a plan, she tried to lift Qi Yan onto the bed. She attempted a princess carry—romantic, in theory—but her arms trembled uselessly. Gritting her teeth, she strained with all her might, yet couldn’t budge him.
Finally, she hooked her arms under his shoulders and dragged him toward the bed, step by grueling step.
After heaving him onto the mattress, she huffed, "You’re way too heavy, Senior!"
Qi Yan’s sweat-soaked white shirt clung to his thin frame. Hot, ragged breaths escaped his lips.
"No alcohol. No ice. Wet towels it is."
She filled a basin with cold water, soaked a towel, and lifted Qi Yan’s shirt. His lean torso was exposed.
As she wiped his chest and abs, a faint blush crept across her cheeks. A hardcore otaku who’d seen plenty of... *incomplete* images, she’d never actually touched a guy’s body before.
She turned him over, cleaned his back, peeled off the sweat-stiff shirt, and replaced it with a loose, dry one.
Placing a damp towel on his forehead, she turned to Qi Ran. "Emergency measures done. But it’s not enough. He really needs a hospital. Too bad Qin-jie went back to her hometown to see her mom today."
"I’ll call a doctor for a house visit. Watch over your brother, okay? You can’t exactly do much else anyway."
The last sentence stung Qi Ran deeply. But it was true. Trapped in her wheelchair, she could only watch helplessly.
Even when her most precious brother collapsed, she could only call others to care for him.
Her tiny, hard-won progress now felt like a cruel joke.
Su Shiyu dashed out, jumped on her bike, and sped away. Passing Uncle Zheng’s repair shop, she skidded to a halt. "Uncle! Senior’s sick—he’s taking the day off!"
"Is Xiao Yan badly off? I’ve been saying he looked unwell. But that stubborn kid won’t listen till he drops."
"He passed out from fever. I’m fetching a doctor. Where’s the town hospital?"
"Holiday shift today—only one doc on duty. Won’t make house calls. Turn right at the next intersection, go straight. There’s a small clinic. Tell the old doc Qi Ping’s son is sick. He’ll grab his kit and follow you."
"Thanks, Uncle!"
"Just don’t let that kid come to harm. Come find me if you need anything else!" Uncle Zheng waved her off.
Su Shiyu found the clinic easily. A sign reading "Zhonghua Laozihao" hung crookedly on the wall. Inside, an elderly man with graying temples and thick spectacles watched opera on TV. The place was empty.
"Buying medicine or seeing a doctor?" he asked without turning.
"Seeing a doctor. Qi Ping’s son has a high fever. Please come to our house."
"Oh? That fool’s kids are back." He switched off the TV, packed some medicine into a red-cross bag, and slung it over his shoulder. "Fine. Nothing better to do. Let’s go see the mess."
"Yes, sir."
Su Shiyu followed, puzzled by his tone. He clearly disliked Senior’s family—but as long as he came, it was a relief.
"38°C. Caught it early. No major damage. Two fever shots and some pills will fix him." He checked the thermometer.
With Su Shiyu’s help, he gave Qi Yan two injections—one in each buttock.
"Malnourished. Overworked. Immunity crashed. Sleeping on damp floors. Washing cars in cold water all day. Money over life. Just like his father’s opposite. Caught the autumn chill. Mild cold though—just a hoarse throat, no runny nose or cough. Low contagion risk. Don’t worry." His diagnosis was crisp.
"He’s sweating heavily. Keep him hydrated. When he wakes, give him plain rice porridge before the pills. Fever should break by tonight. If it spikes again, take him to the clinic for IVs tomorrow."
After his final instructions, the old doctor shuffled out with his bag.
Su Shiyu watched him leave, then turned to Qi Ran. Her hands pressed against her lower abdomen, lips tightly sealed.
"Senior’s sister... do you need the toilet?"
Humiliation warred with necessity. Qi Ran gave a tiny nod.
Su Shiyu sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You two are impossible. I’ll take you."
Seated on the commode chair, Qi Ran faced the toilet. Su Shiyu stood outside the door, back turned.
"Is this life really what you want?" Her voice was quiet, sharp. "What are you so afraid of that you can’t stand up?"
