Sickly Bigshot CH 28 Scoundrel
Translated by The BL Muse (ko-fi)
Shi Zhou quickly patted his back to help him catch his breath. Qin Yancheng hadn’t eaten anything, so there was nothing to throw up, yet he couldn’t stop coughing and retching, wheezing like bellows as his breathing grew more labored.
The doctor immediately asked, “What’s going on? When did this symptom start—”
“Get out!” Qin Yancheng suddenly snapped. Having long held a position of power, his presence was already formidable. Now that he had dropped his usual restraint, the pressure in the room dropped instantly, suffocatingly so. Even in his weakened state, his dominance didn’t waver.
Shi Zhou was just about to hand him his inhaler and froze at the command. The doctor looked at him, clearly baffled.
—Most VIP patients were difficult to deal with, and everyone knew who Qin Yancheng was. But no one expected this financial legend, worth billions, to have such a terrible temper.
Afraid Qin Yancheng would work himself into another fit, Shi Zhou looked apologetically at the doctor. “Would you mind stepping out for now? I’m really sorry.”
Now alone in the room, Shi Zhou helped him take a dose from the inhaler. Worried he’d throw it again, he kept a firm grip on it this time. “What just happened? Is your stomach acting up again?”
Qin Yancheng pressed his lips together and said nothing. Shi Zhou noticed his symptoms seemed to ease up the moment the doctor left, which made it all the more puzzling.
He wanted to check if his upper abdomen was cold to see if it was another stomach spasm. But at the moment, Qin Yancheng looked off—mentally unstable. Shi Zhou didn’t dare make a wrong move and set him off again.
After observing him all day, Shi Zhou realized something: whenever Qin Yancheng saw a doctor—especially one holding a syringe or about to draw blood—he’d have a strong physical reaction: vomiting, dizziness, and more.
Because of his intense response, most tests couldn’t proceed. Shi Zhou was getting anxious and feared he’d vomit up blood. Ever since they entered the hospital, Qin Yancheng had become a completely different person, barely speaking, utterly cold.
Several young nurses who had timidly approached to ask for his autograph were all too scared to come near. Shi Zhou tried to coax a smile out of him, grinning: “Beauty, you scared the girls stiff. You should be called Granny Qin from now on.”
“I want to go for a walk,” Qin Yancheng said in a rare moment of opening his mouth.
Of course, the doctor didn’t approve. He was also confused—while Qin Yancheng’s condition wasn’t too serious, most people would glue themselves to the bed after hearing the words “heart disease.”
Didn’t they say the wealthy fear death the most? Apparently, not always.
Shi Zhou sweet-talked for ages and finally got permission to push Qin Yancheng around in a wheelchair for a bit.
Qin Yancheng didn’t like that either, but compared to lying in bed, he reluctantly chose the lesser of two evils.
Under the starry night sky, the autumn wind was cool and refreshing.
Qin Yancheng took a deep breath. The smell of disinfectant was gone, and the suffocating pain that had been gnawing at his heart eased slightly. For the first time in a while, he seemed more like his usual self. “Weren’t you supposed to catch a flight today?”
“I backed out of that reality show. Dear Qin sir, would you mind reimbursing my breach-of-contract fee?” Shi Zhou paused, then suddenly remembered, “Oh, right—one serious warning: don’t lock the door when you sleep! What kind of dumbass habit is that? Do you know how worried I was?!”
Of course Qin Yancheng knew.
Back then, his chest had been in unbearable pain, his airway clogged as if he couldn’t breathe no matter how hard he gasped or coughed. And yet, he remained perfectly conscious:
Perfect.
This would count as accidental death, not suicide.
A subtle sense of relief and triumph crept in. Qin Yancheng let go, letting his awareness fade. But then—he heard Shi Zhou calling his name outside, barefoot, frantically running up and down the stairs. He even tried to kick the door open...
Busybody. Why did he care so much?
Yet something warm and alive seemed to stir in his hollow heart, gently knocking against him, pulling back some of his sunken sanity—
He shouldn’t want to die. He had always fought so hard to live.
The night breeze was chilly. Shi Zhou wrapped Qin Yancheng’s coat more tightly around him. Qin Yancheng said, “When does the show start filming? I’ll get air clearance. You can be airborne in thirty minutes.”
Good lord. Most private flight routes needed nearly two days’ notice. Qin Yancheng said thirty minutes like it was nothing—talk about flaunting your power and money.
Shi Zhou tilted his head. “I already turned it down. I can’t keep ghosting them like this—the production team wouldn’t agree.”
Expressionless, Qin Yancheng asked, “Forget them. Do you want to go?”
Shi Zhou hesitated, then said, “Forget it. There’ll be plenty of shows like that. Next time.”
Qin Yancheng fell silent, pulled out his phone, and opened WeChat. Shi Zhou saw the contact name “Xin Jing.” Right—he had totally forgotten about Qin Yancheng’s childhood friend in all the panic last night.
The doctor had only approved a thirty-minute walk. Shi Zhou didn’t care whether Qin Yancheng wanted to go back or not—he was pushing the wheelchair, so he made the rules.
Qin Yancheng clearly didn’t want to return, his mood visibly souring again, but he stayed silent and endured it.
Still, after some fresh air, he did seem in better spirits than when he first woke up. At least now he wasn’t demanding to be discharged like an unstoppable force.
The VIP suite was fully equipped, even with a kitchen and bathroom—more comfortable than most luxury hotels. Shi Zhou turned on the wall-mounted TV to add some life to the room. The channel just happened to be airing a children’s show—his childhood favorite, a certain yellow sponge.
—Yes, Shi Zhou still secretly watched cartoons as an adult, but with Qin Yancheng next to him, he felt too embarrassed and reluctantly changed the channel. Still, nothing else was interesting.
Qin Yancheng, ever sharp, noticed Shi Zhou’s fixated gaze and finally let a subtle, nearly imperceptible smile touch his pale lips. “I’m going to shower. You can watch the kids’ channel if you want.”
Shi Zhou blushed and stubbornly denied it. “Who said I want to watch it?! I’m not that childish!”
Qin Yancheng had low blood pressure. The moment he stood up, his vision went black, and he toppled straight back down. Shi Zhou quickly caught him. “Oh my god, are you even in any shape to shower? Maybe don’t.”
“I’m fine. Just stood up too fast.” Qin Yancheng shook his head, waiting for the darkness to pass.
“You saying you’re fine doesn’t count. I’m asking the doctor.”
Shi Zhou left the room and came back soon after, looking like he was trying to hold in laughter. Finally, he asked, “Qin sir, how about... you don’t shower today?”
“I have to. I’m fine. What did the doctor say?”
Qin Yancheng was a bit of a clean freak. Shi Zhou knew he’d never win this argument, so he gave in with a mischievous smile. “Hehehe, beauty, the doctor told me to watch you shower.”
Qin Yancheng: ……
“What?! Don’t think I want to watch! I’m doing this because you might faint again, okay?” Shi Zhou huffed.
Sure, Shi Zhou loved ogling beauties—especially an undressed one—but this time, he really didn’t want to look.
The view was just too dangerous. One look, and he’d probably have another springtime dream and have to secretly wash his underwear the next day out of shame.
Sharing the room only made it more awkward.
Qin Yancheng weighed the shame of being seen naked against the misery of not bathing.
Finally, he raised his hand and began unbuttoning his hospital gown. Better to be ogled than to stay dirty.
The bathroom wasn’t very spacious. Shi Zhou stood next to the tub, and his eyes—by sheer instinct—drifted over.
One glance. Averted. Then another glance...
Qin Yancheng had stunning collarbones, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, proportions that rivaled any top male model. Shi Zhou couldn’t look away. He wanted to reach out and touch—and as for what was between those long legs...
Qin Yancheng noticed his gaze. In a dry tone, he said, “Careful you don’t get a nosebleed.”
Shi Zhou blushed furiously, turned around, and snapped, “Screw off! I told you last time it was just because of the heat! It’s dry in autumn! Nosebleeds are normal, okay?! And you—you heartless jerk! You think you’re better-looking than SpongeBob?! I’m here keeping you company, you know!”
Qin Yancheng felt helpless. But all the discomfort he’d felt in the hospital eased a little from Shi Zhou’s antics. This VIP suite looked more like a hotel than a hospital room. Slowly, the turmoil in his stomach calmed.
Though he didn’t exactly mind being stared at, he didn’t want to be ogled by this little pervert forever. He rinsed off quickly and reached for the bathrobe.
Shi Zhou had his back turned. Hearing the splash of water, he figured Qin Yancheng was stepping out and turned around—
Suddenly, Qin Yancheng gasped softly and collapsed on top of him with no warning!
Shi Zhou was totally unprepared. The moment he turned, he was knocked flat!
The scent of minty body wash and damp steam enveloped him. Qin Yancheng landed fully on top of him, still wet and undressed.
Shi Zhou, in thin loungewear, was soaked through too, his body outline clearly visible. Their position—absolutely indecent.
“You! What the hell are you doing?!” Shi Zhou stammered.
“Sorry... got dizzy,” Qin Yancheng said hoarsely. He braced himself with both hands on either side of Shi Zhou, trying to push up. But the floor was slippery, and he collapsed again—
This time, the position was even worse.
Shi Zhou’s mind exploded: BOOM!
“Q-Qin Yancheng...” He hadn’t expected the cannon fodder’s body to be so sensitive to touch. His voice trembled and cracked, “You bastard—you’re such a freaking scoundrel!”
Qin Yancheng closed his eyes, a faint suspicious flush rising to his pale cheeks. Whether from embarrassment or something else, he whispered, “Give me... a moment.”
His warm breath brushed against Shi Zhou’s neck, sending a strange, shivery tingle down his spine.