Chapter 160: Chapter 160: One Step at a Time
*Runze’s POV*
I blink my eyes open slowly.
The very first thing I notice is the chair right beside my bed. It sits completely empty.
It looks strange. For a moment, I just stare at the vacant seat, trying to clear the heavy fog from my mind. The slight dip in the cushion is still there, and his dark suit jacket still hangs over the backrest. He can’t have been gone long.
The door handle clicks before my thoughts can wander any further.
Mrs. Wen steps inside, holding a thermos and a small paper bag. The moment she sees I am awake, a warm smile spreads across her face.
"Good morning, Young Master."
"...Morning," I reply. My voice is rough and dry, but at least speaking doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday.
She goes to the nightstand and pours a little warm water into a paper cup. "Drink slowly."
I take it. The warmth slides down my throat, immediately easing the tightness there.
"...Where is Bael?"
Mrs. Wen sets the thermos down. "An urgent matter came up. He had to leave a few hours ago."
I look at her. "To the office?"
"He didn’t say," she replies quietly. "Assistant Shen arrived early this morning to fetch him. Mr. Wuchen did not want to leave your side at all, but it seems the matter was too pressing for him to have any other choice."
I let the thought settle. "I see... He should go. He can’t stay here forever."
She watches me for a quiet moment before nodding. "You’re right."
Even so, when my eyes drift back to that empty chair, the room feels a bit more vacant than it did yesterday.
***
An hour later, the doctor arrives with two nurses. He checks my morning chart and smiles.
"Today is a good day."
"...Why?" I ask.
"Because today we stop letting you lie flat in this bed."
I frown.
"I am serious," the doctor says, closing the chart. "We are going to sit you up."
"...Right now?"
"Right now."
Before I can object, the nurses adjust the bed. The backrest rises slowly, and my upper body follows it. Everything seems fine until I am nearly upright.
Suddenly, the room lurches.
The floor seems to tilt. A wave of dizziness hits me so fast that I grab the blanket to steady myself.
"...Whoa..."
A nurse puts a firm hand on my shoulder. "Easy does it."
The other nurse gives me a sympathetic look. "That reaction is normal, Mr. Runze."
I squeeze my eyes shut against the spinning. It feels as though my body has forgotten which way gravity is supposed to work.
"Take your time," the doctor says. His voice is calm and unhurried. "You have spent several days flat in bed. Your body needs to remember how to sit before it remembers how to stand."
I focus on breathing slowly until the spinning eases. When I open my eyes again, the walls stay where they belong.
"...Is that better?" the doctor asks.
I give a small nod.
"Good." He smiles. "That is enough work for this morning."
***
After lunch, the medical staff returns.
This time, they bring a silver aluminum walker. I stare blankly at the metal frame.
"...Are you seriously making me use that?"
Mrs. Wen watches me quietly from her seat, her expression sympathetic. "It is only a temporary measure, Young Master."
"I know that," I mutter with a weary sigh. "I just... I’m way too young for a walker."
The doctor nods. "And today, you happen to be my patient. So please, humor me. Your muscles are completely weak from the trauma, and we need to ensure you don’t collapse."
One nurse detaches the monitoring cables from my chest but leaves the IV line in my arm. The second nurse helps me swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
Just letting the soles of my feet touch the floor feels strange. The surface is cold, solid, and real.
"Whenever you are ready," the nurse murmurs.
I place both palms firmly on the rubber grips of the walker and push up with all my strength. My legs respond for about half a second, then my knees buckle, nearly folding completely.
Mrs. Wen gasps.
The two nurses catch me before I can fall.
"I have you."
"I’ve got his side."
A bright flush of embarrassment floods my face. "...I am sorry."
"There is absolutely nothing to apologize for," the nurse says gently, keeping a steady hold on my arm. "You’ve been in bed for several days. Your body simply needs time to adjust."
The doctor watches my posture closely, his expression serious but encouraging. "Let us try a second time. Take a deep breath first."
The next attempt goes much better. It is a small improvement, but it is progress.
My thighs and calves tremble so hard I think they might shake themselves apart. Even so, I am standing upright on my own two feet.
I hold the position for ten seconds. Maybe twelve.
Before the strain becomes too much, the doctor gently guides me back down onto the mattress. "There." He sounds genuinely pleased. "That is an excellent start."
I look down at my bare legs resting against the sheets. They look exactly the same as always. But why do they suddenly feel like they belong to a stranger?
***
Later in the afternoon, I simply want to use the bathroom by myself.
Mrs. Wen immediately stands up. "I will assist you—"
"I can manage it," I interrupt gently.
"You will fall."
"I won’t."
"You nearly collapsed a few hours ago."
"..."
She is right, and I have no argument. We reach a quiet compromise.
I walk at an incredibly slow pace. I keep one hand on the walker while my other hand guides the rolling IV pole beside me. Mrs. Wen hovers just an inch away, her arms out, ready to grab me the second I lose my balance.
The bathroom door isn’t far—maybe eight steps. Yet, making those steps feels like walking eighty miles.
When my fingers finally grip the edge of the porcelain sink, I look up. The mirror catches me completely off guard.
For several long seconds, I just stare at the reflection.
The person looking back hardly resembles the man who made a public presentation a few days ago. My face is far too pale. There are dark, fading bruises near my jaw and throat, and a healing cut disappears beneath the messy edge of my hairline.
I look fragile.
Without thinking, my hand drifts down to my lower abdomen. The tiny life is still there. Still safe. Still alive.
A quiet, shaky breath escapes my lips.
As I turn back toward the bedroom door, something on the counter catches my eye. A plastic toothbrush sits in a cup next to a disposable razor, and right beside them lies a neatly folded silk tie.
They belong to Bael.
For a long moment, I just look at them. He really has been living right here in this small space, never truly leaving me.
***
By the time evening arrives, deep exhaustion claims my body again.
The door opens with a soft click. Bael walks into the room. The moment his grey eyes find me sitting upright against the pillows instead of lying flat, he freezes.
"...You sat up."
"And I stood up, too," I tell him, trying to sound playful.
His dark eyebrows lift in disbelief. "...You did what?"
A small smile tugs at my lips. "I stood. It was only for a few seconds, and I had a lot of help. But I managed it."
Despite the clumsiness of the effort, I still feel an odd sense of pride.
A visible shift occurs in his expression. It isn’t just surprise, but a deep relief that reaches all the way into his eyes, clearing away the shadows.
He crosses the room without another word. His warm palm cups the side of my face gently before he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against my forehead.
"I am proud of you," he murmurs. The words are very quiet, spoken in an intimate whisper, but they warm my chest more than I expected.
"...Where were you today?" I ask softly.
"A few minor matters came up at the office that required my signature."
Bael pauses. It is a very brief delay before he speaks, a small flicker crossing his features before his composure returns. His expression makes it seem as though there is far more to the story, but the look vanishes before I can truly understand it.
"...Is everything alright?"
Bael watches my face for a quiet second. Then, a soft smile touches his lips. "Everything is fine now."
Perhaps that statement is not the complete truth. Perhaps there is something significant he is choosing to hide from me.
But looking at him now... looking at the tired lines of his face and the warmth in his gaze, I find that I cannot bring myself to press for answers. Not today.
Today, I managed to stand on my own feet. Today, our baby remains safe and alive. Today, Bael came back to my side.
Some things can simply wait until tomorrow.
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