Chapter 157: Chapter 157: I’m Here
*Bael’s POV*
The sound of the glass shattering against the hard floor didn’t even register in Bael’s mind.
He didn’t look down at the shards or the water splashing across his shoes. His entire world shrank to the tiny movement of Runze’s little finger twitching weakly against his palm.
Before he could even process the sensation, Runze’s eyelids fluttered. They parted... just a little at first, fighting the heavy weight of three days of unconsciousness, before opening a little wider.
His eyes were unfocused beneath the harsh hospital lights. But as they shifted, drifting slowly around the white room, they stopped, and locked right onto him.
Bael froze.
He didn’t blink, he didn’t breathe. Runze’s eyelashes moved once, twice—a slow, heavy effort—but his gaze never left Bael’s face. The very first thing Runze saw through the blur of waking up was him.
Behind him, Mrs. Wen was already scrambling, her fingers slamming into the emergency call button on the wall. Within seconds, the door swung open. A group of nurses and doctors hurried inside, the urgent snap of their rubber-soled shoes breaking the stillness of the room.
"Sir, please—"
A doctor’s voice cut through the air. Bael didn’t react.
"President Wuchen."
Still nothing. He was like a statue anchored to the seat beside Runze’s bed.
Only when a nurse carefully tried to separate his hand from Runze’s did Bael finally blink. His fingers tightened for a fraction of a second before they forced him to let go.
His gaze never left Runze’s face. Not once.
They practically had to drag Bael away to give the medical team space, pulling him back until his frame hit the wall, but his eyes stayed locked. He was vaguely aware of the crowded figures around the bed, the sharp beam of a penlight, and a doctor’s fingers lifting Runze’s eyelids. He heard the sudden noise of hurried voices, the rustle of sheets, and someone adjusting the dials on the monitors.
But none of it registered in his mind.
Because Runze’s eyes were open.
Runze blinked a few times, flinching slightly from the harsh light, but every few seconds, his eyes searched the room until they found Bael again. As though Runze was checking to make sure he hadn’t disappeared.
Bael’s heart slammed painfully against his ribs, a heavy, erratic thudding. His hands never stopped trembling at his sides.
The examination seemed to last only a few heartbeats to Bael.
In reality, the doctors worked around the bed for several long minutes. They checked Runze’s pupils again and again, monitored every response, adjusted the equipment surrounding him, and carefully assessed whether he could breathe well enough on his own. Somewhere during it all, after they were satisfied he could breathe on his own, a doctor quietly removed the breathing tube, though Bael couldn’t remember seeing it happen.
He only remembered Runze’s eyes.
Eventually, the lead physician stepped back from the bed.
"He’s responding well," he said, turning toward Bael. "We removed the breathing tube successfully. His breathing is stable for now, but he’ll need very close observation."
Another doctor added a few more instructions, followed by the nurses acknowledging them one after another. Bael didn’t absorb a single word. He only gave a tight, mechanical nod.
The medical team gradually filtered out of the room, taking the urgency with them.
Grandmother Wuchen stepped closer to the side of the bed. Her hand settled lightly against Runze’s arm.
"Oh, child..."
Her voice cracked, a rare break in her usual rigid composure. For a long moment, she simply stood there, looking down at the young man she had almost lost.
"You frightened us." She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening slightly on the sleeve of his hospital gown. "The house has been too quiet without you. Don’t worry about anything else right now alright? Just rest."
Runze’s eyes shifted toward her. He didn’t have the strength to move his head, but his eyelids lowered in a single, slow blink to show he understood.
Grandmother nodded back once, her expression softening. "Good."
Mrs. Wen stepped forward immediately afterward, tears already sliding down her face in thick streaks.
"Young master..." Her voice shook terribly, her hands hovering over the white blanket. "I’m so glad you’re awake."
Runze tried to curve his lips, but the effort looked entirely too exhausting for his pale face.
"Don’t move, don’t smile, don’t do anything." Her voice trembled as she tried to force a reassuring smile through her tears. "Just keep your eyes open. That is all I ask."
Grandmother glanced toward Bael, taking in his silent, frozen posture against the wall. Then she touched Mrs. Wen’s shoulder.
"Come. Let us get fresh water and talk to the doctors."
The two women quietly moved across the floor, stepping carefully around the broken glass near the door, before it clicked shut behind them.
The deep silence returned.
Bael still hadn’t moved from the spot where the doctors had dragged him. For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Neither looked away.
Then, Bael took one step forward.
Then another.
Until he was standing right beside the railing of the bed. Runze’s eyes followed him the entire time, tracking his movement.
Bael’s hands were shaking violently now. He reached out slowly, almost carefully, as though Runze might shatter or disappear if he moved too quickly. His palm settled against Runze’s cheek.
Warm. Alive. Real.
Bael stared down at him, the sudden weight of the relief making his knees feel entirely too weak to hold him up. He sank heavily into the chair beside the bed. He kept himself close—close enough that Runze didn’t need to strain his neck to look up at him, close enough that he could catch every shallow breath.
"...Bael."
The name barely came out, his voice raw from days of silence and the breathing tube that had only just been removed.
The sound alone nearly destroyed him.
Bael lowered his head immediately, his forehead pressing directly against Runze’s shoulder, right into the stiff fabric of the hospital gown. His entire body trembled. He wasn’t crying, just a violent, silent shaking that he couldn’t stop. It felt as though the hinges holding him together for the last three days had finally come loose.
"I’m here." His voice cracked against Runze’s skin. "Runze, I’m right here."
For several seconds, he couldn’t force anything else out of his throat.
When he finally looked up again, his eyes searched every single inch of Runze’s face, as though he still couldn’t believe the reality of what he was seeing.
"Are you..." His throat tightened up. "Does it hurt a lot?"
Runze blinked slowly, the movement heavy.
Bael’s voice dropped, the crushing weight of the guilt taking over completely now that those beautiful eyes were clear and looking at him.
"Runze..." He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. "I’m sorry. Because of me..."
Runze stared at him, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to process the painful tone. Then, his gaze drifted downward, sliding past Bael’s face until his eyes focused on Bael’s right hand holding his own.
His stare stayed on the dark bruises stretching across Bael’s knuckles.
"...You’re hurt," Runze breathed out.
The words were just a tiny thread of air, but the fact that Runze’s very first thought was to check on him made Bael’s chest ache with a sharp, physical pain.
Bael immediately shook his head, using his thumb to gently smooth over Runze’s cheekbone. "It’s nothing." His answer came too fast, too desperate. "Don’t look at that."
He kept his hand flat against Runze’s face, his fingers lingering near his temple, almost pleading. "Just look at me. Please."
Runze did.
Bael’s chest tightened. Three days of silence, three days of absolute uncertainty, three days of imagining every terrible future except this one.
"Thank you." The words escaped before he could stop them, rough and raw. "Thank you for waking up."
His jaw clenched tighter. "I’m sorry I let this happen to you."
Runze’s lips parted slightly, his throat visibly dry. The effort to speak looked entirely exhausting.
"...No..."
It was barely audible, a tiny scratch of sound in the dead silence of the room. Bael didn’t dare move an inch. He didn’t break eye contact, keeping his face close, his ears straining to catch the small thread of air.
"...it’s not..." Another weak breath rattled in Runze’s chest. "...your fault."
Bael stared down at him. Neither of them looked away, not even for a fraction of a second.
"Don’t talk anymore," Bael whispered, his voice thick as he slipped his fingers carefully under Runze’s weak hand, avoiding the clear IV lines taped to his skin. "Don’t spend your strength trying to argue with me."
Runze didn’t try to speak again. He just watched Bael, his breathing small, even, and shallow. He didn’t have the physical power to squeeze Bael’s fingers back, but he didn’t pull away either. He let his hand rest heavily in Bael’s tight grip, perfectly still.
Bael didn’t move an inch. He stayed leaned over the bed, his body shielding Runze from the harsh ceiling lights, turning the small corner of the room into something quieter.
Runze’s eyelids began to drift shut, but just before they closed completely, his dull gray eyes sharpened slightly. His gaze drifted away from Bael’s face, moving slowly down the length of his own body beneath the white hospital blankets.
His fingers twitching against Bael’s palm weren’t trying to squeeze back anymore. Instead, Runze’s weak hand made a small effort to drag itself across the sheets, trying to reach toward his own stomach.
The movement was too weak, his arm too heavy, and his hand fell still against the mattress.
Runze’s lips parted again.
Bael leaned in immediately, his chest tightening as he prepared to tell him to rest one more time.
But the faint, barely audible scratch of air that left Runze’s throat wasn’t an argument.
"...The..." Runze swallowed hard, a tiny flicker of sudden, raw fear breaking through his exhausted expression. "...The baby."
Bael froze.
The small line of tension between Runze’s eyebrows returned, deeper this time, his eyes searching Bael’s face with a desperate, quiet plea for answers. "...Our... baby..."
Bael’s entire body went completely still.
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