Morning light slipped through the gap in the hospital room curtains as Jiang Xun dreamed he was squatting in a rundown alley at the flea market, gnawing on a chicken drumstick.
Crisp outside and tender inside, its juices trickled between his fingers. Just as he was about to take a blissful second bite, a foot kicked him in the waist.
Fuck.
Jiang Xun frowned. The drumstick flew away, and he woke up.
He narrowed his eyes to adjust to the light and met a pair of eyes staring straight at him.
Jiang Huaixiao sat in the visitor's chair beside the bed, his face cold enough to turn the hospital room straight into a morgue.
It took Jiang Xun just three-tenths of a second to make his decision. He closed his eyes, evened out his breathing, relaxed his limbs, and secretly tucked his heels another half inch under the covers.
Back to sleep.
"If you're awake, stop pretending."
Jiang Huaixiao's voice was flat, without a trace of emotion at the end.
Jiang Xun's eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't move.
"Your eyelids are twitching."
"..."
Resigned, Jiang Xun opened his eyes and pushed himself upright on his arms. The aching in his lower back made him pause for a beat.
He licked the dry, cracked corner of his mouth and forced a smile. "What brings you here?"
Jiang Huaixiao didn't answer.
He slowly raised his eyes. They bore a fifty- or sixty-percent resemblance to Jiang Xun's, but there wasn't a hint of warmth in them.
"Last night. Did you think about the consequences?"
Here it comes.
Jiang Xun leaned back a little and pulled the covers over his legs. "Of course I did. I brought five whole trackers, and Captain Zhou's people were all lying in wait nearby. What could those guys