When you’re sick with a fever, you have to cool down physically as quickly as possible—everyone knows that. But few people know that the fastest way to cool down is to wipe cold water over the areas where major arteries are located, such as the sides of the neck, the armpits, and most importantly—the groin.
Groin!!
In the small, cramped curtained-off space, Xia Yiyang tremblingly pulled out his phone and whispered: “Mirror mirror on the wall… ah no, Siri Siri, where exactly is the groin? Do you really have to wipe the groin to cool down?”
His phone quickly retrieved a full page of results. Xia Yiyang’s vision was so blurry he saw double: “Siri, read it out loud.”
The AI’s emotionless mechanical female voice came from the speaker: “[The groin is located at the crease where the abdomen meets the thigh. The femoral artery and femoral vein pass through this area, and wiping with cold water can accelerate cooling.]”
“Xia Yiyang, the doctor told you to lie down and rest—why are you sitting up?”
Just then, the curtain was pulled open, and Sheng Lin walked in carrying a basin of water. Draped over the edge of the basin was a small towel with a panda pattern—the travel souvenir Xia Yiyang had bought earlier. Who knew its first use would be in a scenario like this?
Seeing his boss suddenly appear, the young master panicked and tried to put his phone away. But in his haste, the phone first did a bizarre tap dance across his ten fingers, then arced through the air like a parabola, slipping right through the gap between the nightstand and the wall into some dark corner under the bed.
Crash, clatter, clunk.
Xia Yiyang: “…”
From outside the curtain, the doctor called out: “Which patient is making that noise? Keep it down—everyone’s trying to rest.”
Sheng Lin crouched down and rescued Xia Yiyang’s phone.
The phone had surprisingly good build quality—even after its fall into the abyss, it continued its steady broadcast: “[To accurately locate the groin, you can refer to the following guidelines: In males, the groin is located in the diagonal depressions on both sides of the base of the penis and the inner thighs. In females, the groin is located…]”
—Ahhhhhhh (silent screaming from the young master)! The phone dared to read it out loud, but he didn’t dare to listen!
Xia Yiyang flopped back onto the bed in despair, wishing he could bury his head deep into the pillow. Why couldn’t he be even sicker? Sick enough to fall into a coma, so he wouldn’t have to face this mortifying situation.
Sheng Lin looked down at the phone in his hand. After reading the “knowledge” on the screen, he raised an eyebrow slightly, then silenced and locked the phone. The little mimosa on the bed was still hiding in shame. Sheng Lin tapped his shoulder and asked: “Are you planning to suffocate yourself with that pillow?”
A muffled voice came from under the pillow.
Sheng Lin: “What?”
“I said—” Xia Yiyang flung the pillow aside, revealing a pair of shame-filled, indignant eyes. “—I can wipe myself down. No need for you to help, Boss.”
“Fine. Then wipe yourself.” Sheng Lin was surprisingly agreeable. He stepped back and pointed at the basin on the floor. “I’ve already filled the water, and the towel’s been rinsed. You can use it directly.”
Afraid he might change his mind, Xia Yiyang hurriedly got up and swung his legs off the bed. But the moment his feet touched the floor, his whole body turned into a noodle, and he started toppling sideways.
At the critical moment, Sheng Lin steadied him with an arm around his waist, preventing him from sliding all the way down.
Half-carrying, half-supporting him back onto the bed, the man asked: “In your current state, do you really think you can take care of yourself?”
“You did that on purpose!” Xia Yiyang saw through his scheme and said pitifully, “You knew I couldn’t do it, and you still deliberately provoked me to get up.”
“Right, I did it on purpose. Because I know you’re a spoiled young master who won’t stop being stubborn until you hit a dead end.” Sheng Lin admitted frankly. “Do you remember what the aunties said before we left? ‘You’re friends—you should look out for each other.’”
“…” Xia Yiyang thought: Did he and his boss really count as friends?
If they were friends, did that mean they had to look after each other even in (sick) bed—and even help with something as private as wiping down the body?
He opened his mouth to ask, but Sheng Lin suddenly called his name again: “Xia Yiyang.”
“Eh?” He responded reflexively, still dazed.
The man suddenly reached out and brushed away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, his voice dropping very softly, like a gentle breeze passing through a meadow: “Be good. Don’t make me worry.”
“…”
Xia Yiyang couldn’t help rubbing his eyes—why wasn’t the clinic’s air conditioning working properly? Why were his eyes sweating too?
He took the opportunity to turn his head and secretly wiped the “sweat” from the corner of his eyes with his T-shirt. Then he heard the man ask again: “Are you taking it off yourself, or should I do it?”
“Taking what off?”
“Your pants.” Sheng Lin gave him the choice verbally, but even as he spoke, his hand had already reached the waistband of Xia Yiyang’s shorts.
The young man was wearing loose, breathable linen shorts today, the drawstring tied loosely at his waist in a simple knot. Sheng Lin took one end of the cord, the veins on the back of his hand shifting slightly with the motion, and slowly, unhurriedly pulled the knot open—as if unwrapping a particularly precious gift.
The man’s movements were gentle, but it was so quiet in there that even the rustle of fabric as the drawstring came loose was clearly audible.
Then that well-defined hand moved to the button—and just below that, was…
“I’ll do it myself!” Xia Yiyang finally snapped out of it, frantically covering his waistband with both hands. “I can take them off myself!”
He avoided the man’s hand and turned to the side, his back facing him—a rather futile attempt at concealment.
Then Xia Yiyang quickly unbuttoned and pulled open his waistband, wriggling around on the bed a few times before pushing his shorts down to his ankles. With a light kick of his feet, his left leg slipped free, leaving only the right leg of the shorts still dangling around his pale calf.
He didn’t take them off completely—he felt that leaving a little fabric on somehow made him feel more at ease.
But he didn’t realize that the shorts bunched around one slender ankle drew far more attention than if he’d just taken them off entirely.
“I’m ready.” Xia Yiyang gritted his teeth, flipped back over, and spread his limbs out like a sacrificial lamb. “Go ahead!”
Sheng Lin looked at him—so braced for martyrdom—and found it both amusing and helpless: “You’ll need to roll up your underwear too.”
“Huh?” Xia Yiyang propped himself up and looked down at himself.
Oh… he was wearing boxers today, and the groin area was roughly level with where briefs would sit. To wipe properly, he’d have to roll up the legs of the boxers, fold them up and up and up until they were bunched up like briefs.
Of course, there was a simpler solution—take it all off completely. But he was too shy for that. Taking off his shorts had already been humiliating enough. If he stripped off that last layer in front of Sheng Lin, he had no idea how he’d ever face him again.
So Xia Yiyang resigned himself to pulling up that thin layer of fabric, stretching it as much as he could and rolling it upward. The once-loose fabric, now bunched up, became taut, outlining the area between the boy’s legs…
“…Is this okay?” Xia Yiyang didn’t dare look at Sheng Lin. He turned his head to stare at the blue curtain by the bed, as if that would help him escape the awkwardness of the moment.
He couldn’t see Sheng Lin’s expression, only heard the man’s long silence before a quiet “Mm” escaped his lips.
Water splashed. Before Xia Yiyang had even steeled himself, the damp little towel was pressed against that spot.
He shuddered at the cold shock, biting his lip hard—stubbornly refusing to make a sound. But the tension in his thighs and the slight tremble in his arms had already betrayed his fluster.
Another splash of water.
Another towel pressed to that spot.
The man wiped carefully and gently, but occasionally—very occasionally—his fingers would accidentally brush against the boy’s skin, his burning fingertips a stark contrast to the icy towel.
Xia Yiyang forced himself not to look, not to listen, not to think, not to feel.
The blue curtain circled the bed, enclosing a small world that belonged only to the two of them.
But the thin curtain offered little soundproofing and was far from truly private. All the clatter and chatter of the clinic filtered into this tiny space—voices, clanging instruments, the creak of doors. Occasionally, a patient passing by would make the curtain sway faintly, like ripples spreading across a disturbed pool of water.
Every passing footstep, every slight rustle of the fabric, added an unusual tension to what should have been a routine “wiping.” As if, with just one pull of that gossamer-thin curtain, some hidden feeling would be exposed to the world.
……
Before he knew it, the boy’s temperature had gradually come down, and the water in the basin was no longer cool.
“I’ll go refill the basin.” Sheng Lin spoke, his voice oddly dry and husky. “Put your pants back on first. Are you sweating? Do you want me to wipe your back later?”
“No need.” Xia Yiyang still wouldn’t look at him, his eyes fixed on the curtain. “I feel much better. I want to rest here for a while.”
“…Okay.” Sheng Lin didn’t insist. “I’ll go pay the fees. You get some sleep.”
Xia Yiyang nodded very, very slightly: “Boss, where’s my phone? Where did you put it?”
“On the nightstand. Don’t play with it—just close your eyes and rest.”
“I know.”
The curtain swayed as it was pulled open from the inside, and the man left.
Through the curtain, Sheng Lin’s voice came, both near and far: “Doctor, I’ve already wiped him down. Is there anything else I should watch out for?”
What the doctor answered, Xia Yiyang could no longer make out.
The young man fumbled to put his pants back on, then picked up his phone and quietly opened the search bar.
“Mirror mirror, how long is summer in Rongcheng?”
Would every day ahead be like today—leaving him completely cooked through?
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