After parting ways with the couple, Xia Yiyang and Sheng Lin followed the crowd toward the next section of the park. The Polaroid photo had been taken by Sheng Lin and carefully tucked into Xia Yiyang’s crossbody sports bag.
Xia Yiyang: “Didn’t you say you’d keep the photo? Why is it in my bag?”
Sheng Lin: “Because I don’t have a bag.”
Xia Yiyang: “Then give me my bag back—I’ll carry it myself.”
Sheng Lin: “No.”
The man was always concise, rejecting Xia Yiyang’s request with just two words. As for why not—he didn’t give a reason.
Next to the giant panda area was the “Moon Room”—the home of the panda cubs. Every summer, pandas that had gone through the breeding season would give birth, and the cubs would be displayed to the public in the Moon Room.
Of course, it was behind glass.
One-month-old panda cubs were pink all over, not yet grown into their black-and-white fur, about the size of an adult man’s palm. They sat in a row in their incubators, snoring contentedly, occasionally rolling over to a chorus of camera shutters. Three-month-old cubs already had sparse black-and-white fur. Several lively cubs explored their room with curiosity, though they weren’t yet skilled at controlling their limbs—often tripping over their own feet and taking a tumble, eliciting a collective “Awwww~ ohhhh~” from the two-legged creatures outside the glass.
Because the crowd was simply too dense, Sheng Lin—who didn’t like being packed in with people—told Xia Yiyang he’d wait for him at the Moon Room exit.
The young man didn’t even turn his head, his eyes practically glued to the panda cubs, waving him off dismissively: “Go on, go on.”
Sheng Lin: “…”
What an ungrateful little thing.
Just as Sheng Lin reached the exit, his phone buzzed. He looked down and saw a message from his so-called friend Qin Zaozao.
@Jia Wanwan: Your little employee isn’t at work today?
@Ling: ?
@Jia Wanwan: You’re wondering how I know, aren’t you?
@Jia Wanwan: Because I can divine it!
@Jia Wanwan: Not only do I know he didn’t go to work, I know he went to the zoo to see pandas—did you know that?
@Ling: ?
@Jia Wanwan: Seriously, I typed all that out and you just reply with two question marks—makes me look like I talk too much!
Sheng Lin thought: Qin Zaozao didn’t just talk too much—he was a mobile noise generator. Just seeing these messages, Sheng Lin could practically hear his grating voice in his head.
But how exactly did Qin Zaozao know about Xia Yiyang’s whereabouts?
As if by instinct, Sheng Lin opened Xia Yiyang’s Moments feed.
Case solved.
@YiYi: I want to be reincarnated as a panda keeper so badly—if I could spend this lifetime petting panda cubs, bottle-feeding panda cubs, and playing ball with panda cubs every single day, then I’d be okay with being filthy rich and eating meat every day in my next life too! [Shared Video]
Sheng Lin tapped the video. The shaky camera was practically pressed against the glass barrier, capturing a full minute of a panda cub drinking from a bottle. After it was full, the keeper held the cub in their arms and gently patted its back to burp it. In the background of the video, the young master’s hushed voice could be heard repeating softly: “So cute, so cute—how can it be this cute?”
…Yes, it was indeed quite cute.
Sheng Lin gave the video a like.
He backed out to the chat window. Qin Zaozao had sent several more messages.
@Jia Wanwan: You didn’t go with him?
@Ling: You have too many questions.
@Jia Wanwan: I just want to know if my pendulum was right or not. It sacrificed itself by landing in your hands—if you don’t go with Xiao Xia, where’s my dignity?
@Ling: Your pendulum is a counterfeit product to begin with. I suggest you request a refund and return it on Taobao as soon as possible.
Sheng Lin’s response was deliberately vague—he didn’t explicitly tell Qin Zaozao that he and Xia Yiyang had gone out together. After all, this good brother of his was far too gossipy.
There was another reason too—Qin Zaozao’s “fortune-telling” skills seemed both real and fake, like a game walkthrough that didn’t follow the conventional path.
But the joy of a game lay in the trial and error, the hesitation, the courage, the adventure…
If you already had the answer in advance, then the game of life would lose all its fun.
……
Xia Yiyang lingered in the Moon Room for a long time, only reluctantly leaving after the keepers took the cubs back inside for their rest.
He followed the crowd toward the exit. He’d initially worried that with so many people around, he wouldn’t be able to find Sheng Lin—but the moment he looked up, he spotted him among the crowd.
The man leaned against the wall, scrolling through his phone idly. He had broad shoulders and a lean build, his hair cropped very short. His sleeveless athletic top revealed arms with beautifully defined muscles; slung across his body was a sports bag, the strap falling perfectly between his pecs.
Xia Yiyang overheard a pair of close girlfriends whispering nearby.
“Holy crap! There’s a guy behind you with an insane body—if I were president, I’d order every man with big pecs in the world to wear crossbody bags!”
“Where? Where?” (Whipping head around, spinning in place)
“Ugh, don’t turn so suddenly! I told you to sneak a peek—why are you being so obvious? You’re practically begging Mr. Pecs to notice you!”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
Wait—they were clearly talking about Sheng Lin, so why was Xia Yiyang the one feeling embarrassed on his behalf?
It must have been because that bag was actually his!
His face burning, he ducked his head and hurried over to Sheng Lin.
Sheng Lin was about to greet him when Xia Yiyang cut him off: “Don’t ask why—just take off that crossbody bag right now.”
“?” Sheng Lin asked anyway, “Why? Do you need something from it? I’ll find it for you.”
“I told you, don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask!” Xia Yiyang’s ears turned red in agitation, and he couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Anyway, from now on, you can only carry bags on one shoulder—no crossbody straps.”
Sheng Lin: “…?”
What was the young master on about now?
But it didn’t matter which shoulder the bag hung on. Sheng Lin took off the crossbody bag and switched it to a single-shoulder carry. Only then did Xia Yiyang feel satisfied.
“Good. Keep it this way from now on, got it?” The young master sighed in relief and patted Sheng Lin’s shoulder. “Boss, remember—men need to protect themselves out there.”
Sheng Lin: “.”
Didn’t understand.
After reuniting, it was time for lunch. Sheng Lin had looked up restaurants in the park online beforehand and picked the one with the best reviews, taking Xia Yiyang there.
The restaurant was adjacent to the peacock garden, with free-roaming peacocks strolling across the surrounding lawns in the sunlight. Sheng Lin ordered a bowl of beef noodles, while Xia Yiyang ordered a Sichuan-style stir-fry combo set, which surprisingly came with a complimentary bowl of ice jelly.
Xia Yiyang couldn’t wait to take a bite of the ice jelly—and immediately frowned, being picky: “Not as good as what we make at our shop.”
The ice jelly wasn’t smooth enough, the fruit toppings were stingy, and the brown sugar syrup was watery… If it weren’t for his aversion to wasting food, he wouldn’t have touched it.
“If you don’t want to eat it, give it to me.” Seeing the young master forcing himself to choke it down with a grimace, Sheng Lin simply reached over, took the bowl of ice jelly in front of himself, and finished the rest for him. “Let me do some competitor research.”
“Huh?” Xia Yiyang blurted out, “But that’s my…” …spoon.
But did any boss in the world really do “competitor research” by finishing their employee’s leftover ice jelly—and using their employee’s spoon?
After lunch, they rested a while longer in the restaurant, enjoying the air conditioning while discussing where to go in the afternoon. The panda base was huge—besides giant pandas and cubs, there was also a dedicated area where visitors could see red pandas.
Xia Yiyang had seen plenty of red panda videos online before—their reddish-brown bodies, large pointed ears, fluffy long tails… Visitors could buy apples and bamboo leaves to interact with the red pandas. If they were lucky, they might even be chosen by one to stand on their shoulder.
“Then let’s head to the red panda area.” Sheng Lin glanced at the map. “Turn left after we exit.”
“Left?” Xia Yiyang processed it for a moment. “Oh, you mean go south.”
“Then turn right.”
“Which is west.”
“The red panda area is at the ten o’clock direction.”
“That’s northwest!”
Sheng Lin: “…Are you doing this on purpose?”
Xia Yiyang wore a mischievous grin, laughing his head off.
But joy turned to sorrow—he was laughing when he suddenly clutched his head with an “Ouch.”
“What’s wrong?” Sheng Lin asked with concern.
“Pfft, nothing, nothing, I just feel a little…” Xia Yiyang rubbed his temples and said quietly, “It might be too hot and stuffy—I have a bit of a headache.”
Summer in Rongcheng was completely different from Beijing. Beijing’s heat was dry—although the sun was strong and the light intense, it cooled down quickly once you stepped into the shade. Rongcheng, on the other hand, sat in a basin and was humid all year round—in the summer, it was like a steaming furnace.
Since arriving in Rongcheng, Xia Yiyang had spent most of his time working in the shop, where the AC was always on, so he hadn’t really experienced the oppressive humidity. But today, out with Sheng Lin, he’d been outdoors the entire day. If he were a steamed bun, he’d have been completely cooked through—puffed up, white, and fluffy.
The panda base was crowded and noisy. Xia Yiyang had already felt a dull headache coming on in the Moon Room, but back then the excitement of seeing the panda cubs had overridden everything. Now that he’d stopped to rest and been hit by the cold air, the temperature shock made the headache flare up even more.
Seeing him unwell, Sheng Lin asked: “How about we head home?”
“No way!” Xia Yiyang immediately shook his head, the panda headband wobbling with him. “I finally got out here—if we go back now, the whole day off is wasted. Besides, the ticket was pretty expensive… If I don’t see the red pandas, that’s at least a hundred yuan down the drain.”
Unable to persuade him, Sheng Lin could only make him promise that if his symptoms got worse, they’d head straight back.
Xia Yiyang considered himself strong and healthy, and thought the discomfort would pass. But he’d clearly overestimated himself—and underestimated the power of the steamer.
He hadn’t even made it halfway along the “from south to west, arriving at northwest” route when his vision started going dark and his steps grew unsteady.
Sheng Lin, who’d been keeping a close watch on him, saw his pale lips and ashen face and immediately helped him sit down in the shade by the roadside, then bought two bottles of iced cola to replenish his sugar.
Just then, a staff member passed by. Sheng Lin quickly stopped them to ask where the medical office was.
“It’s right ahead!” The staff member pointed the way. “Five hundred meters ahead. Hang on—I’ll have them send an electric cart over.”
“No need—I’ll take him.” Afraid of delaying treatment, Sheng Lin crouched down in front of Xia Yiyang. The young man felt his body lighten as Sheng Lin hoisted him onto his back.
How embarrassing!
He mumbled his protest drowsily: “Put me down—I’m not a kid, I can walk on my own…”
“Xia Yiyang, this is not the time to be stubborn.” Sheng Lin gave his backside a firm smack, his tone cold and stern. “Do you know that in Rongcheng, heatstroke can kill people?”
The young man’s arms crossed loosely over Sheng Lin’s shoulders, his head drooping beside Sheng Lin’s neck.
“Don’t be so mean…” Maybe it was the vulnerability that came with being sick, but big teardrops began falling from the corners of Xia Yiyang’s eyes, landing on Sheng Lin’s collarbone and mingling with his sweat. “Boss, I’m sorry—I’m causing you trouble…”
Sheng Lin didn’t answer. He just adjusted his grip under the boy’s knees, hitching him up higher, and quickened his pace.
A few minutes later, Sheng Lin delivered Xia Yiyang to the medical office.
By then, the young man was drenched in cold sweat.
The doctor took his blood pressure and temperature and made him drink two vials of Huoxiang Zhengqi water—but Xia Yiyang still looked listless, unable to muster any energy. The young man leaned against Sheng Lin, pitifully hanging his head, bobbing slightly like a wilted dandelion.
“His temperature is elevated right now—we need to cool him down physically as quickly as possible.” The doctor pulled two ice packs from the freezer. “As you can see, the clinic is packed today. It’s hot, and there are too many heatstroke cases—we’re running low on ice packs. These are the last two. Have the patient put them under his armpits near the lymph nodes. Also—”
The doctor turned to Sheng Lin: “You’re his family, right? There’s a small basin over there—go fill it with cold water.”
Sheng Lin nodded in acknowledgment: “To wipe off his sweat?”
“No.” The doctor said. “There’s a bed over there. Pull the curtain and take his pants off.”
Xia Yiyang thought he was so sick he was hallucinating: “…Huh?”
The doctor instructed Sheng Lin: “Wipe cold water along his groin area to cool him down—there are major arteries there. The more frequently you wipe, the better.—You know where the groin is, right?”
The doctor pointed to the triangular area where the abdomen meets the thigh: “Right here. Just be careful not to wipe the sensitive areas, okay?”
Xia Yiyang: “???”
He shot up from Sheng Lin’s arms instantly: “Doctor, I—I think I’m fine now.”
Sheng Lin pushed his head back down.
“No, you’re not.”
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