Chapter 162: Chapter 162: A Promise
*Runze’s POV*
The room is empty for the first time in hours.
Mrs. Wen left to fetch clean linens, her quiet footsteps fading down the hallway. I sit upright against the pillows, my hands resting over the smooth cotton sheet.
Little by little, my body is changing. Moving my torso no longer feels like lifting a great weight. Sitting up feels normal, a natural posture rather than a chore.
My thighs and calves still ache from the short walk to Liang Feng’s room earlier. The muscles throb with a low, dull soreness, but the pain does not discourage me. Instead, it feels like a reminder. It proves that my blood is moving, my limbs are working, and I am actually recovering.
I look down at my fingers, tracing the small white line of the medical tape holding the IV needle in place.
The door clicks open.
Bael walks in. He has his coat off, held over one arm, and his tie is loosened by an inch. There is a deep fatigue in the way he moves, a slow pull in his stride that he tries to hide the moment his eyes find mine. Seeing me awake washes some of that exhaustion right off his face.
"Welcome back." I say.
He crosses the floor without saying anything, setting his coat over the empty armchair. He comes straight to the side of the bed, leaning down to press a quiet, warm kiss against my cheek.
"How are your legs?" he asks, his voice low and raspy. "Did you overdo it?"
"I’m alright," I say, offering a small smile to ease the sharp focus in his eyes. "They ache a bit, but it’s a good kind of sore. Seeing Liang Feng made me feel better. Knowing he and Qiao Jin are going to heal makes it easier to rest."
Bael listens quietly, his head tilting down in a slow nod. He sits on the edge of the mattress beside my knees. Without a word, he reaches out and slides his hands under the blanket, finding my calves. His palms are warm against my cool skin. He begins to massage the tight muscles, his thumbs pressing in slow, rhythmic circles just above my ankles.
The doctor had mentioned my legs would probably throb after the first walk, and Bael remembers.
Neither of us speaks for a long time. The only sound is the steady hum of the monitor and the friction of his hands moving against my skin.
It feels peaceful. Familiar. The simple touch anchors me to the room, washing away the lingering chill of the hallway outside. I watch his downcast eyes, the steady movement of his shoulders, and feel the tight knots in my muscles slowly give way under his touch.
After a few minutes, his hands slow down, resting flat against my shins. He looks up at me, his grey eyes serious.
"There is something you should know," he says.
I shift slightly, keeping my back against the pillows. "What is it?"
"Ling Yue has been coming to the hospital," Bael says smoothly. "Almost every day since the accident."
I blink, the name striking a sudden chord of surprise in my chest. "Ling Yue? Here?"
"Yes. He has not been allowed upstairs," Bael continues, his tone even and calm. He does not try to defend his actions or make excuses. "I instructed the reception desk to turn away all visitors while you were unconscious. You needed to recover in peace. I did not want anyone disturbing this room."
I look at him, understanding the protective wall he built around me. He did it to shield me when I was at my weakest.
"He is downstairs now," Bael says, checking his watch before looking back into my face. "I receive updates on everyone who requests access to this floor. Now that you are awake and stronger, the choice is yours. If you want to see him, I will let him come up."
"Yes," I say immediately, the response rising before I can even think about it. "Please let him come in. I miss him."
Bael pauses, his hand freezing halfway to his pocket. He looks down at me, a faint, amused twitch at the corner of his lips that softens his serious expression. "You miss him?" he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, teasing register. "Saying you miss another man right in front of your husband? You are getting bold, Runze."
A light warmth floods my cheeks. "What? He’s..."
He doesn’t let me finish. He leans down, his hands rising to frame my face, his long fingers filtering gently past my hairline. He presses his lips to mine, kissing me with a deep, slow passion that is completely soft yet entirely consuming. It takes my breath away, grounding me completely in the warmth of his touch. He pulls back just an inch, his grey eyes searching mine, looking incredibly intense.
"Runze, I..." he starts, his voice thick. He stops. The words seem to catch in his throat, heavy with an emotion he can’t quite release in this room.
Instead of finishing the thought, he lets out a quiet breath and rests his forehead against my shoulder, burying his face in the crook of my neck. He holds me like that for a moment, the tension in his body returning as he squeezes his eyes shut.
"There are some other things you should know," Bael whispers against my skin, his tone shifting into something sober and guarded. "I will tell you. I promise I will tell you everything, when you get discharged and we are back home... Okay?"
A cold prickle of awareness touches my chest. For days, I have felt the hidden weight behind his brief absences, the sense that a storm is moving just outside the walls of this clinic. Hearing him admit it now fills me with a quiet anxiety, but the absolute sincerity in his voice makes me nod.
"Okay," I say softly. "I will wait for you."
I lift my left arm—the one free from the IV lines, and wrap it securely around his neck, pulling him closer to my chest. Bael buries his face deeper into my shoulder, inhaling slowly, breathing in my scent as if it is the only thing keeping him anchored.
"Thank you," he murmurs.
He pulls back, looking at me with a small, genuine smile that finally reaches his eyes. He leans forward to press a brief, affectionate kiss to the tip of my nose.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly tapping the screen to dial. "Let him up," Bael says into the receiver. He listens for a second, then hangs up.
He picks up his coat from the chair and slips it over his shoulders. Then he straightens his shirt, and smooths the wrinkles from his trousers, his usual controlled demeanor locking back into place. "I will give you two some time alone."
"Okay," I say softly.
He leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him and leaving me with a sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach.
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