Chapter 27 Emotional Development
The gloom of the insect plague lingered around the fortress like sticky dampness, the buzzing of wings becoming an inescapable background noise. But inside the fortress, time did not stand still; instead, in the daily, almost trivial interactions, a longer and more serene rhythm flowed, different from the life-and-death struggle.
Some changes, like new leaves quietly unfurling in a sunroom, happen silently in a corner where no one is paying attention.
Wen Yu noticed that he had started to unconsciously observe which dish Su Ran's chopsticks landed on during meals. Su Ran seemed to prefer refreshing vegetables and slightly sweet foods, and would only take a small bite of anything too oily or spicy. So, when serving food, Wen Yu would casually move the bright green stir-fried bok choy towards Su Ran, or place the plate of roasted sweet potatoes drizzled with honey closer to him.
At first, he didn't realize it until one day Su Ran looked up at him, her clear eyes filled with a faint smile, and whispered, "Mr. Wen, you should eat more meat too. Even though your wound has healed, you still need to nourish yourself." Only then did he realize and move the plate of braised meat from the can closer to himself.
Su Ran seemed to possess an invisible encyclopedia about Wen Yu. He remembered that Wen Yu drank tea only when it was seven-tenths hot and only half an hour after meals; he remembered that when Wen Yu organized his tools, he liked to arrange them from left to right according to size and purpose; he remembered that when Wen Yu checked the surveillance footage, he habitually scanned the overhead views on the west and north sides first; he remembered that when Wen Yu was thinking, his right index finger would unconsciously tap lightly on the table or his thigh; he even remembered that the new skin near the scar on his left arm would occasionally itch and he needed to apply a specific, cooling ointment.
These observations were meticulous and subtle, like a gentle rain nourishing the earth. On Wen Yu's desk, a simple pen holder made from a tin can had appeared sometime recently, its pens always perfectly sharpened and with plenty of ink. Beside the armrest of the sofa where he often sat, there was always a small box of throat lozenges he occasionally sucked on. Even his clothes, before being washed, would be carefully checked by Su Ran, who would remove any loose items he might have forgotten, wipe them clean, and place them in a small basket always kept by his bedroom door.
Their conversations remained infrequent, but the silence was no longer filled with scrutiny and distance. Often, Wen Yu would be checking some equipment, and Su Ran would hand him the necessary tools. They didn't need words; a glance or a subtle gesture was enough for them to understand each other. Or, Su Ran might be experimenting with a new recipe in the kitchen, and Wen Yu would stop to look as he passed by. Su Ran would then naturally pick up a small amount with her chopsticks and bring it to his lips: "Would you like to try it to see if it's salty enough?" Wen Yu would taste it with his chopsticks and offer a brief evaluation: "Just right," or "A little bland." The actions were as natural as if they had been rehearsed a thousand times.
With their tacit cooperation, the daily operations of the fortress ran more smoothly and efficiently. Inventory of supplies, equipment maintenance, security patrols, and even the rotation plan for the sunroom gradually developed fixed procedures and division of labor. Su Ran was no longer the "outsider" who needed to ask for instructions cautiously, but had become an indispensable and well-functioning cog in this miniature ecosystem, meshing tightly with Wen Yu, the core cog.
However, even the strongest fortress and the most harmonious partnership cannot completely withstand the laws of nature and the fragility of the human body itself. Perhaps due to the excessive energy consumed in dealing with the previous floods and insect infestations, or perhaps due to the pervasive, humid heat, a fierce seasonal flu quietly attacked the fortress before the insect infestation had subsided.
Su Ran was the first to collapse. He was already physically weak, and when he woke up that morning, his face was pale, his nose was red, and his voice was thick with a nasal tone. Yet, he still insisted on preparing breakfast. Wen Yu saw that he was unsteady on his feet, so she reached out and touched his forehead, which was burning hot to the touch.
"Go back and lie down," Wen Yu commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Su Ran was about to say something when a violent cough interrupted him, making his eyes red and his body weak. Wen Yu didn't say anything more, but instead half-carried, half-helped him back to his room, pressed him onto the bed, and covered him with a blanket.
"I'm fine...cough cough...I just caught a bit of a cold..." Su Ran said in a hoarse voice, still trying to remember.
"Lie down," Wen Yu repeated, his voice low and reassuring. He turned and went to the medical room to retrieve an electronic thermometer, fever reducers, cold medicine, and cooling patches.
39.8 degrees Celsius. High fever.
Wen Yu frowned as he looked at the number on the thermometer. He gave Su Ran the fever-reducing medicine as instructed and then applied an ice pack to his forehead. Su Ran was delirious with fever; his thick eyelashes were wet with physiological tears and stuck to his lower eyelids, his cheeks were abnormally flushed, his lips were chapped, and his breathing was rapid. He curled up unconsciously, like a sick little animal, mumbling "cold" incoherently.
Wen Yu stood by the bed, looking at Su Ran's flushed face and vulnerable expression. The high wall of ice in his heart seemed to be hit hard by something, cracking open a crack and letting in a strange emotion called "anxiety".
He was always calm and composed, used to being in control of everything, including his own body. But at this moment, looking at this person who was usually so vibrant and lively but now lay there weak and helpless, a sense of powerlessness and a vague panic quietly gripped him.
He silently turned and went to the storage room to fetch another thin blanket, gently covering Su Ran with it. He then poured some warm water, helped Su Ran sit up, and carefully fed him. Su Ran leaned against his arm, his body burning hot, feeling light and weightless, his breath carrying a scorching heat. Wen Yu's arm muscles were tense, yet his movements were extremely gentle, as if he were holding fragile glass.
Wen Yu spent almost the entire day in Su Ran's room. He regularly took his temperature, gave him medicine, and used warm water to wipe his burning neck and arms to help lower his fever.
Su Ran drifted in and out of sleep. When he woke up, his eyes were glazed. He would see Wen Yu standing by his side and mumble "Mr. Wen" before falling back asleep. His sleep was restless; he would occasionally startle or cough. Wen Yu would sit on the chair by the bed, silently watching over him, gently patting his back when he coughed and holding his burning hand when he was startled.
As night fell, Su Ran's body temperature finally began to slowly drop, but he was still weak and powerless. Wen Yu cooked some light white porridge, added a little salt, and fed him a small half-bowl bit by bit. Su Ran managed to eat some, then drifted off to sleep again, this time sleeping a little more soundly.
Wen Yu breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his throbbing temples, finally feeling a bit tired. He was about to go back to his room to rest for a while when his throat suddenly felt itchy, and he couldn't help but cough a few times. He didn't pay attention to it, assuming it was just because the room wasn't well-ventilated.
However, illness struck like a landslide. The next day, Wen Yu himself also collapsed.
His symptoms were more acute and severe than Su Ran's. High fever, chills, severe headache, and muscle aches all over his body overwhelmed him within hours. He forced himself to check the main systems of the fortress, set the automatic alarm mode, and then went to check on Su Ran's room before staggering back to his own room, almost collapsing onto the bed, instantly swallowed up by the high fever and pain.
In his dazed state, he felt someone approach. A cool, soft, damp towel was placed on his burning forehead, bringing a brief moment of clarity. Then, warm liquid was carefully fed to his lips—a diluted salt solution. Someone laboriously helped him sit up, removing his sweat-soaked clothes and wiping him with warm water. The movements were somewhat clumsy, but gentle, avoiding the scar on his left arm. Dry, clean clothes were changed into, and a heavy blanket was carefully tucked in.
He struggled to open his eyes, his vision blurry, and could only see a slender, thin figure bustling around the bed. It was Su Ran. His face was still pale, his lips light, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly indicating that he wasn't fully recovered. But he pursed his lips, his eyes filled with an unusual determination and focus, and his hand holding the towel was still trembling slightly, yet he steadily and repeatedly wiped away the fever.
"You... how could you..." Wen Yu tried to speak, but his voice was terribly hoarse, as if his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper.
"Don't talk, take your medicine." Su Ran's voice was also hoarse, but very gentle. He held the pills and water glass to Wen Yu's lips, and with his other hand, he supported the back of Wen Yu's neck, helping him to lift his head. This position brought the two of them very close. Wen Yu could smell the faint, clean scent of soap on Su Ran, mixed with the smell of medicine. He could see the fine blue veins under his pale skin, and his eyes, which looked particularly moist because of fatigue and worry.
Wen Yu took the medicine from his hand and lay down again. Drowsiness and pain returned, and he closed his eyes, his consciousness waking and falling. But this time, he knew someone was watching over him. The hands that wiped his fever down, the ice packs that were constantly being changed on his forehead, and the occasional, suppressed coughs—these were the only real and reassuring presences he could perceive before sinking into darkness.
Su Ran barely took off his clothes. He himself was still ill, yet he insisted on taking care of Wen Yu. He remembered all of Wen Yu's habits, even those he had when he was sick: when Wen Yu had a high fever, he would instinctively curl up, requiring an extra blanket to be placed under his feet; he would get thirsty within half an hour of taking medicine, requiring warm water to be prepared; if he frowned in his sleep, it might be because his headache was worsening, requiring gentle massage of his temples…
Su Ran had silently memorized these details long ago and was now putting them to use. He stayed by Wen Yu's bedside, dozing off whenever he felt extremely tired, and waking up immediately at the slightest sound. He regularly took Wen Yu's temperature, gave him medicine and water, and prepared light liquid foods. He even used the limited ingredients he had to cook ginger and brown sugar water and pear soup, alternating them for Wen Yu to drink, saying it was to dispel cold and moisten his lungs.
In his drowsy state, Wen Yu's consciousness fluctuated, sometimes clear, sometimes blurred. But each time he regained a little clarity, he could see Su Ran by his side. Sometimes she was changing the towel on his forehead, her profile appearing unusually soft in the dim light of the bedside lamp, her long eyelashes casting small shadows beneath her eyelids. Other times she was asleep leaning against the back of a chair, her head nodding gently, a half-damp towel in her hand, her slender shoulders rising and falling softly with her breath, her face pale and fragile, yet bearing a stubborn, protective posture.
The frozen wasteland in his heart seemed to be gradually softened and melted away by this continuous, silent warmth. Those hard, defensive walls, in this moment of weakness, became utterly vulnerable before this person's meticulous care. A strange, tender, almost bittersweet emotion spread through his chest. It wasn't simply gratitude; it was a deeper, more complex feeling, mixed with dependence, trust, and some indescribable flutter of emotion.
He remembered Su Ran's startled, doe-like eyes when he first arrived, his radiant profile as he busied himself in the kitchen, his earnestness when he came up with the trap idea, his carefulness when he handed over the "insect pupa protein bar," and now, he remembered these slightly trembling yet incredibly firm hands wiping his body to cool him down...
This person, whom he had temporarily placed in his fortress out of a moment of pity, had unknowingly entered his cold and solid world, gradually carving out cracks and planting life in his own way. Now, in his most vulnerable moment, he has used his frail shoulders to provide him with a safe haven.
Three days later, Wen Yu's high fever finally subsided. Although he was still weak, he was able to get up on his own. However, Su Ran, due to exhaustion and not yet fully recovered, also developed a low-grade fever after Wen Yu's condition stabilized, and Wen Yu forcibly pushed her back to bed to rest.
This time, it was Wen Yu's turn to stay by Su Ran's bedside.
He imitated Su Ran, clumsily taking her temperature, feeding her medicine, and cooking porridge. His movements were far less skillful than Su Ran's, even somewhat stiff, but he did it with utmost seriousness. He remembered that Su Ran disliked bitter tastes and would subconsciously purse her lips after taking medicine, so he would immediately offer her a small spoonful of honey after feeding her the medicine. He remembered that Su Ran liked to curl up on her right side when she fell asleep, so he would carefully adjust the corner of the blanket to make sure it didn't press on her arm.
Su Ran slept fitfully with a low fever, occasionally leaning unconsciously towards Wen Yu, as if seeking warmth and comfort. Wen Yu didn't move away, but leaned against the headboard, letting Su Ran's slightly feverish forehead gently rest against his arm. In the darkness, he could hear Su Ran's soft breathing and feel the subtle warmth emanating from his body. An unprecedented, tranquil, and fulfilling feeling slowly enveloped him.
The recovery process was slow, but the atmosphere within the fortress underwent a subtle yet profound change amidst the shared pain and mutual care. The deliberate distance and probing, the cold defensiveness and weighing of options, all seemed to evaporate with the sweat and dissipate with the swallowing of medicine.
Wen Yu would naturally save the dishes Su Ran liked for him. Su Ran would quietly offer Wen Yu a cup of tea at the perfect temperature after he had been working there for a while. Their conversations remained concise, but a glance or a subtle gesture could convey a great deal of unspoken meaning. Wen Yu no longer scrutinized Su Ran's every move so frequently and subconsciously, and Su Ran, in front of Wen Yu, gradually shed his cautious timidity, becoming more relaxed and natural, like someone who was "one of his own."
A bond that needs no words yet exists firmly, having taken deep root through shared experiences of floods, insect plagues, battles, and illnesses, through the permeation of everyday moments and this all-out effort to protect each other.
The ice and snow have melted, the floods have receded, the insect plague has not subsided, and the road ahead remains long and unknown. But in this isolated fortress, two hearts that were once cold and lonely have found in each other the most genuine warmth to withstand the harshness of the apocalypse.