Qi Shi'an held his cup in a daze, as if all his past pursuits had finally found their meaning.

"That's all," Shen Duoyi felt slightly embarrassed by this silence, stepping back to leave. "I'm going home, don't work too late."

As he turned to leave unhurriedly, urgent footsteps sounded behind him. The distance of less than a meter was closed instantly. Qi Shi'an suddenly gripped his arm, the force feeling more like an interrogation than a plea to stay.

"Thank you," Qi Shi'an said, "Thank you for telling me. I can't express how happy I am."

Shen Duoyi felt uncomfortable hearing that hoarse voice and urged, "Go drink some water, and take two more capsules if needed."

But Qi Shi'an had already forgotten the pain of speaking, forcing himself to continue: "Later when I went abroad to study, I came back and looked for you at that bar and the State Guest Hotel, but you weren't there anymore. I wandered around Qiuye Street too, but never ran into you."

"I thought perhaps it wasn't meant to be." Qi Shi'an stared at Shen Duoyi's upturned eyelashes from the side. "I didn't expect that fate was just late."

Shen Duoyi didn't want to let him strain his voice anymore and nodded, saying, "I'll be late getting home too, my grandfather will lecture me."

Qi Shi'an released his hand but kept his gaze fixed: "Just tell him your heartless boss made you work overtime. Let him lecture me instead. Drive carefully."

He watched Shen Duoyi leave, waiting until his figure disappeared at the door before going to the break room for water. His cheeks felt hot after just those few sentences. Back in his office, Qi Shi'an wondered when he'd become so easily flustered.

Several documents still needed approval. He began working at his three computer screens, gradually becoming dizzy, experiencing moments of disorientation when looking up and down.

An email arrived from Zhang Yiming about the "Advanced Platform" proposal. Qi Shi'an opened it to read, noting down several points of confusion for later research.

The day's foreign exchange department meeting minutes also needed organizing, but the data charts before him appeared unusually colorful. "US Dollar Index Spiral Expansion Time Cycle Chart," he muttered the title, but the standard lines in his mind began to tangle. He suspected he was getting drowsy.

After finishing his water, even though his throat was in that condition, Qi Shi'an still made himself a cup of coffee to stay alert.

The hot water gurgled as it poured, bubbling with white steam, the aroma spreading throughout the kitchen.

Though Shen Duoyi arrived home late, his attitude was good, and Grandpa Shen not only didn't lecture him but worried about how tiring his work was, before moving on to complain about the city's traffic problems.

"Grandpa, do we have any seaweed?" Shen Duoyi stood at the stove cooking wontons, seeing they were almost done, it was time to prepare the soup base in the thick porcelain bowl. When he got no response, he glanced sideways into the living room to see Grandpa Shen intently watching the weather forecast.

A ten-degree increase wouldn't matter, but if it dropped even one degree, he'd definitely tell him to add more clothes.

Shen Duoyi turned the heat to low for the wontons and opened the cabinet to search for seaweed. After finding it, he broke off two small pieces into the bowl, added a handful of dried shrimp, then drizzled in a spoonful of sesame oil. He turned off the heat and ladled in the wontons, and the pale white soup poured into the bowl, its steam rising with a rich aroma.

Finally, a sprinkle of sesame seeds completed the dish.

Just as the weather forecast ended and the Focus Interview theme music was about to start, Grandpa Shen shuffled over to the dining table, took a good long sniff of the bowl, and said seriously, "Too salty."

"No way?" Shen Duoyi was already seated with a spoon in one hand and chopsticks in the other. He blew on half a wonton before biting into it, carefully tasting the flavor. "How is it salty? I deliberately made it bland."

"Haven't you heard that comedy sketch? I'm just teasing you," Grandpa Shen was in good spirits, apparently having enjoyed his day playing with Maomao. "When you get old, everything deteriorates, food loses its taste, and yet you still deliberately use less salt."

Shen Duoyi protested: "Too much salt is bad for your health, and it makes you thirsty and cough at night, we need to be careful."

Grandpa Shen continued arguing: "Well, I'm not the one who gets a sore throat every change of season."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Now can we eat? It's getting cold." Shen Duoyi surrendered, not wanting to argue with the old child anymore. He lowered his head to eat his wontons, unable to help thinking of someone else currently suffering from a sore throat.

It was completely dark now, he wondered if that person had finished working overtime yet.

After dinner, grandfather and grandson sat watching TV on the couch. While Grandpa Shen watched with interest, Shen Duoyi was bored enough to play with his phone. "If you don't want to watch, go to your room. Don't force yourself," Grandpa Shen said, wearing his reading glasses, completely absorbed.

"Grandpa, let's change the channel," Shen Duoyi genuinely wanted to watch TV with his grandfather. "This drama is so unrealistic - the father just died, the mother's dead too, relatives won't help, and they're collecting soda bottles. It's too tragic."

Grandpa Shen said: "It's pretty similar to when you were little."

Shen Duoyi choked: "I never collected soda bottles, I drank soda."

"That soda was bought for you by Fei Yuan's mom, where else would you get it from?" Grandpa Shen patted the couch armrest. "It's so touching - he got scammed out of hundreds of thousands with his friend, then started over from scratch. You rarely see young people with that kind of determination anymore."

Shen Duoyi thought to himself that there was one right in front of him, and then felt sorry again about his lost 150,000.

After watching two episodes, it was almost ten o'clock. He helped Grandpa Shen to bed, then returned to his own room to rest. He took out the proposal from his bag, wanting to review Qi Shi'an's notes before sleeping.

"Change directional stop-loss to trailing stop-loss."

Shen Duoyi pondered this several times but still couldn't figure it out. Following the principle that there's no shame in asking, he picked up his phone to call him. Then remembering Qi Shi'an's sore throat, he composed a text message instead.

"Mr. Qi, about the stop-loss point, could you explain it in more detail?"

He seemed to prefer such polite forms of address when inquiring about work matters. Several minutes passed after sending the message with no response. Shen Duoyi figured he must be asleep, so he didn't ask further and grabbed his underwear to go take a shower.

"You can let go of my hand now, just press the bell if you need anything."

Qi Shi'an could no longer say "thank you" - inflammation was torturing him, and he'd started running a fever. After pushing through until 10 PM to finish work, he drove straight to the hospital.

The busier people are, the more they fear getting sick, so he immediately requested an IV drip to bring down his fever and inflammation as quickly as possible. It would take until late night to finish the infusion, so he went ahead and got a hospital room to sleep in.

Before leaving, the nurse received a notification: "A VIP suite has been prepared, would you like to switch?"

Qi Shi'an couldn't be bothered to move, and besides, he was alone - what use would a suite be? After the nurse left, he finally had time to check that unread message. After reading it, typing with one hand was slow, and it took him a long time to compose a reply.

Shen Duoyi finished his shower and was setting his alarm when he received the reply. Opening it, he saw Qi Shi'an's explanation was still quite vague. Figuring it couldn't be explained in just a few words, he didn't press further, but added one concern: "Is your throat any better?"

It took Qi Shi'an a while to reply: "I'm getting an IV now, should be better after it's done."

Serious enough to need an IV? After considering for a moment, Shen Duoyi pressed dial, and the other quickly answered, that familiar hoarse voice coming through: "Worried about me?"

Qi Shi'an was still in the mood to tease, and after teasing, he played pitiful: "I got a fever as soon as you left. Whatever stop-loss or stop-pain you're asking about now, I don't even know how to answer."

Shen Duoyi was in no mood for jokes: "Are you alone at the hospital?"

"Mm, came straight here after finishing work." Qi Shi'an looked at his watch. "Throat hurts, won't talk anymore. Good night."

After hanging up, Shen Duoyi lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He remembered Qi Shi'an hadn't eaten breakfast, hadn't seen him at lunch in the cafeteria, and with the increased pain and fever at night, probably hadn't eaten anything then either.

There were still about a dozen wontons left uncooked. Might as well do a good deed.

Shen Duoyi started boiling the wontons, and while waiting for them to cook, he changed clothes and found a thermos. Since Qi Shi'an had a big appetite, he threw in the remaining stack of wonton wrappers too - they could serve as noodles in the soup.

Driving through the night, he stopped at a 24-hour convenience store to buy three round flatbreads. The roads were clear with few red lights. After pulling into the hospital parking lot, he finally texted Qi Shi'an.

"Want some wontons?"