At the sound of the beeping machines in the hospital room, Wei Ziyun's fingers tightened around the fruit basket until his knuckles turned pale. He carefully set it down, hesitating before he spoke. "Buddy, what happened to you? Why do I feel like you belong in that bed more than Pei Yang does?"
Feng Wanting had taken good care of Pei Yang. Over the past two days, his face had lost some of its pallor, slowly regaining a rosy hint of color. His blue-and-white striped hospital gown rose and fell gently with his breathing. Like cherry blossoms opening for the first time, he looked peaceful and beautiful, as though he had never been stabbed and was merely sleeping soundly.
Feng Wanting was gently tucking in Pei Yang's blanket with his long fingers. At the sound of Wei Ziyun's voice, he lifted his lashes and glanced at him. His eyes, usually as sharp as a hawk's, were bloodshot. "What brings you here?"
"Aunt Liu called me. She's worried about your health, but you've been watching over Pei Yang day and night, and she couldn't bring herself to come over, so she asked me to check on you."
Wei Ziyun stood to one side and looked at Pei Yang lying in the hospital bed. He sighed. "You two have had it way too rough. What's with this whole tortured-love routine? Pei Yang just has too strong a sense of morality... If it were me-"
"If you can't say anything useful, take your things and get out," Feng Wanting cut him off.
"Okay, okay, I'll shut up. Happy?" Wei Ziyun raised his hands in surrender, then sat on the sofa. "Did the doctor say when he might wake up?"
"All his vital signs are normal now." Feng Wanting sounded as though a shard