FSGOR Ch50

Jiang Tian had a slow, lingering dream.

In the dream, the season of crabapple blossoms was nearing its end. He stood by the window of a hospital ward, gazing from afar at Chu Xuyu. The atmosphere between them felt like they had long known each other.

The man leaned casually against his Dark Knight car. He didn’t urge Jiang Tian to come down, nor did he show a hint of impatience—he simply watched him with eyes soft and slow, like spun silk, filled with unmistakable affection.

Petals fluttered down like rain.

But not even the falling flowers could veil the love in those eyes.

In the dream, Jiang Tian took a deep, slow breath.

So different from reality—back then, he had been completely submerged in panic. He feared that if Chu Xuyu ever found him, he’d punish him thoroughly.

The difference in their social standing had made Jiang Tian obsess over the idea that he was doomed from the start.

Yet in just that fleeting eye contact, Jiang Tian seemed to return to that day, now granted a god’s-eye view he never had before.

He now clearly understood: Chu Xuyu had smoothed over the mess for his sake. A man of his position could’ve dealt with Jiang Tian however he pleased, and yet he chose instead to play the long game—like a cat toying with its mouse.

Looking back on everything, Jiang Tian had felt fear and avoided confrontation—but he’d never once considered things from Chu Xuyu’s point of view. Never realized those tangled ambiguities… were steeped in love.

“….”

Jiang Tian finally realized just how slow he had been to understand his own feelings.

It was then—

He opened his eyes.

Gradually waking up, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit and lightly scented with antiseptic.

Jiang Tian was lying on a hospital bed. Chu Xuyu sat beside him. Though his vision was still blurry, he could clearly see that familiar silhouette—and those eyes, filled with the same love as in his dream.

“…Ge.”

His voice was hoarse.

He instinctively tried to move, only to find that his limbs were sore and heavy, unable to exert any strength.

“You’re awake?”

Chu Xuyu immediately sat up straighter, gently tucking the blanket around him.

He sat back down again, as if he’d held that position for a long time, waiting silently for Jiang Tian to wake up.

“You’re safe now,” he said.

 “Just lie still and rest.”

Jiang Tian wasn’t sure what time it was. He vaguely remembered fainting from heatstroke. He’d thought seeing Chu Xuyu appear was just a hallucination.

He probably hadn’t been too badly injured, so lying here now made him worry about hospital fees. He tried to sit up—but it was too obvious.

Chu Xuyu frowned. “It wasn’t just heatstroke. You’ve got several internal injuries. Stay in bed and rest a few more days.”

Jiang Tian: “…”

‘Was it really that serious?’

He tried to shift again and instantly pulled a muscle. The pain nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Chu Xuyu’s frown deepened. It was hard to tell if it was from frustration or genuine concern.

Then the man leaned in and gently pulled him into an embrace—carefully, as if afraid to hurt his already battered body.

 “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Jiang Tian’s mind went blank.

He understood what Chu Xuyu meant: if he had just reached out, if he hadn’t gone it alone, someone of Chu Xuyu’s influence could’ve pulled Lu Qiao out of that situation with ease.

But—

Jiang Tian couldn’t answer. He just didn’t want to keep bothering him. Now lying here in the hospital, late into the night, his stomach gave a soft growl.

Chu Xuyu didn’t push him to speak further. He got up, walked over to the dining area, and retrieved a meal from the warming cabinet—something a nutritionist had prepared in advance.

He brought the tray back and sat down, scooping up a spoonful of porridge.

Jiang Tian’s face turned red instantly. This wasn’t even as bad as when he broke his leg last year—did he really need to be spoon-fed?

 “I-I can eat on my own.”

Chu Xuyu looked at him wordlessly, the gentleness in his gaze brooking no refusal.

Jiang Tian had no choice but to yield.
“…Thank you, ge.”

Chu Xuyu: “Mn.”

 “You’re welcome.”

He responded with uncharacteristic politeness.

The two didn’t speak much after that. The only sound in the room was the soft clink of the spoon against the porcelain bowl.

Jiang Tian ate the warm, comforting porridge. Occasionally, he’d glance at Chu Xuyu—who was quiet, thoughtful, and gentle. Yet there was something subtly different about him today.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

So he asked, tentatively, “Did you find me through the message I sent—and the car’s GPS?”

“Mn.”

Chu Xuyu lifted his gaze, eyes sweeping over Jiang Tian’s delicate features, the bruises on his face stark and jarring.

“Your friends are all safe. Or… are you more curious about what happened to the bad guys?”

Jiang Tian pressed his lips together and shook his head lightly. He knew asking would be pointless.

He didn’t need to guess. Chu Xuyu had surely, silently taken care of everything. Including Zeng Jiaxiang and Yang Xiantong—ringleaders who had instigated the whole thing. There was no way he would let them off lightly.

After a pause, Jiang Tian murmured, “Thank you, Chu-Ge… for all the trouble again.”

He looked especially fragile now—already naturally pitiful, but even more so when sick. Chu Xuyu didn’t say much. He wiped Jiang Tian’s face gently with the back of his hand.

“Sleep.”

Jiang Tian was tired—but didn’t want to drift off just yet. He looked up at him.
“Ge… aren’t you going to sleep?”

Chu Xuyu didn’t respond.

Jiang Tian shifted a little—despite the pain—and moved over, making space on the bed.
“Sleep with me.”

Chu Xuyu hesitated.
“…Alright.”

He set the tray aside and, just like that night at home, climbed into the bed—pulling Jiang Tian close.

But strangely enough, Jiang Tian didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable this time. The room was air-conditioned, and wrapped in Chu Xuyu’s embrace, he felt deeply safe despite his weakened state.

By morning—

All their friends came to visit, bringing bags of fruit and milk. They sat nervously in the high-end private hospital’s waiting lounge.

Everyone was tense—even stiff.

After all, this kind of private hospital only took in a certain type of patient. It was an open secret in Ning City.

—There was no way Jiang Tian could afford this kind of place on his own.

Having survived yesterday’s events, their emotions had somewhat settled. Even if no one dared to mention the man who picked Jiang Tian up, everyone silently understood.

That young man was handsome and imposing. The way he took Jiang Tian in his arms—his attitude both ambiguous and doting—made it impossible for anyone to believe they were just superior and subordinate.

“That was the legendary President Chu, wasn’t it?”

Unlike the two boys who tried to play dumb, Zhang Wenxuan tore the veil of silence.

“Don’t you two think… something was definitely going on between him and Jiang Tian?”

Lu Qiao stared at the ceiling.
“…Nope.”

Zhao Yuanhao, holding his juice box:

“I didn’t see anything either.”

Zhang Wenxuan: “…”

“You two are so obviously in on it. Can you at least pretend to act natural?”

Lu Qiao kept his stubborn front: “What are you even talking about? I seriously have no clue what you mean.”

Zhao Yuanhao, legs spread lazily, elbows resting on his knees, guiltily pressed a hand to his temple.

Seeing the way they looked, Zhang Wenxuan didn’t bother pushing further. She simply said to herself, “Looks like you both already know. That’s fine. I more or less figured it out too.”

“Don’t worry—I won’t go around blabbing about Jiang Tian’s private life. He’s an excellent person, and I trust his judgment. If he chooses someone to date, then that person must be just as good.”

“By the way, that car he drove… was it customized for him by his boyfriend or something—”

At that moment.

The elevator doors opened nearby, and the bodyguard they’d seen before stepped out. Stern but polite, he informed them they were invited to visit the patient in the room.

There was no time for idle chatter. They quickly grabbed their things and followed. Zhang Wenxuan in particular was curious—how would Jiang Tian and President Chu interact now that he was awake?

Meanwhile.

In the room, Jiang Tian had just finished his meal. He leaned against the pillows, looking at Chu Xuyu, who was holding his phone.

“Ge, are my friends on their way?”

“Mn.”

Chu Xuyu stood and walked to the cabinet, retrieving a small object.

“Return this to your classmate.”

Jiang Tian took it—it was a keychain with a pink LinaBell charm, definitely belonging to Zhang Wenxuan.

“It’s probably our class key…”

He accepted it and said flatly, “I left it in the car when things got hectic. I’ll give it back to her later. Thanks, Ge.”

Chu Xuyu glanced at him with a strange, unreadable look.

Jiang Tian: “Hm?”

Chu Xuyu: “Nothing.”

His expression didn’t seem angry, but he clearly wasn’t saying everything. Jiang Tian thought about it, and feeling it was best to coax him a little, reached over and tugged lightly at Chu Xuyu’s finger.

“Ge… are you upset?”

Chu Xuyu replied in a low voice, “A bit.”

Jiang Tian blinked. Thinking of those jealous-boyfriend scenes from dramas and anime, he hesitated.

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“She lives nearby. I only brought her along to help look for Lu Qiao. That’s all—”

Before he could finish, Chu Xuyu gently pinched his finger to interrupt him. Looking into his sincere eyes, he asked, “Will you tell them?”

Jiang Tian paused. “You mean… about our relationship?”

Chu Xuyu raised a subtle eyebrow.

Jiang Tian thought about it. Lu Qiao and Zhao Yuanhao obviously knew. As for Zhang Wenxuan, they didn’t interact much—telling her or not didn’t really matter.

But if Chu Xuyu cared, then of course Jiang Tian would be honest. Giving someone a sense of security was, after all, part of being a good partner.

Chu Xuyu was unexpectedly touched by that answer. While he was distracted, a noise came from outside the hospital room. He used the moment to softly stroke Jiang Tian’s cheek before turning toward the door.

Knock knock.

After the knock, the bodyguard opened the door. The familiar faces of his classmates appeared—Jiang Tian, cheeks still warm from being touched, greeted them first.
“You’re here.”

Compared to their chaotic state yesterday, they now looked like timid students—politely shuffling in.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Ah-Tian, are you feeling better?”

“……”

Their eyes couldn’t help drifting toward the man inside the room. They were still wondering how to greet him—or how to properly say thank you.

Just then, Jiang Tian smiled faintly and said casually, “I usually call him ‘Chu-Ge.’”

“You can all call him that too, if you want.”

He looked toward Chu Xuyu, who, facing the nervous high school graduates, also offered a slight curve of the lips and said politely, “No need to be so formal.”

“Come on in.”

Hearing that, everyone relaxed immediately. Beaming, they chimed in:

“Hi, Chu-ge!”

“Thank you, Chu-ge!”

“Sorry for the trouble!”

The earlier awkwardness vanished in an instant.

Their youthful energy lifted the room. Seeing Jiang Tian more animated, sitting among them, Chu Xuyu—standing in the hallway—felt at ease.

While discussing some logistics with his bodyguard, however, he remained visibly annoyed.

The bodyguard said, “President Chu, the head office of that bank wants to meet and apologize. Should I arrange it?”

Chu Xuyu, side profile sharp and imposing, replied flatly, “I’m not interested.”

In his dictionary, there was no such thing as ‘three strikes.’ Even one mistake that crossed the line meant all exits were closed.

Last time, he’d deliberately shown some leniency—only because he didn’t want Jiang Tian to see him as someone terrifying or overly ruthless.

But now—

He realized how foolish that had been. Whether it was the brat from the affiliated school or the nephew of the Yang Group’s executive who had sent those emails—neither of them had any future.

Once he was done giving instructions, snacks and drinks he’d ordered for Jiang Tian and his friends were also delivered.

Before leaving, he called out a reminder:
“I’ve got something to handle at the office. I’ll head back now.”

Immediately, everyone—including Jiang Tian—turned to look at him in unison.

Immediately after, Chu Xuyu’s gaze stayed only on Jiang Tian. The latter, sensing both that focus and his friends glancing back at him, lowered his voice:

“Ge, when will you be back?”

Chu Xuyu: “Once I’m done.”

Jiang Tian nodded, the corners of his lips curling softly in a relaxed smile.
“Okay… come back soon.”

The unintentional sweetness in his tone made his friends silently widen their eyes. With some truly awful acting, they forced down their shock and just focused on politely saying goodbye to the CEO who had helped them so much:

“Thank you, Chu-ge!”

“Take care, Chu-ge!”

“We won’t stay too long!”

“……”

Something about all this felt off.

Jiang Tian: “?”

After Chu Xuyu left.

The atmosphere in the hospital room was warm and friendly. Jiang Tian could sense their kindness clearly. He returned the keychain to the class rep, explaining, “Chu-ge found it in the passenger seat.”

“Ah.”

Zhang Wenxuan smiled sheepishly.

“Thanks. I thought I dropped it while we were running. I looked everywhere and still couldn’t find it.”

The two exchanged a look. When Zhao Yuanhao and Lu Qiao went to get water, Zhang Wenxuan leaned closer and asked in a whisper: “Jiang Tian.”

“That story we talked about in class—the one about ‘the person who made you realize you were born gay’… that was Chu-ge, wasn’t it?”

Even though he hadn’t officially come out to anyone, in that moment, it felt like an unspoken secret. Even when directly asked, Jiang Tian didn’t feel offended.

He nodded and admitted,

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

Zhang Wenxuan beamed, her smile sincere.

“I really wish you two happiness.”

Jiang Tian: “Thanks.”

The smile on his lips was subtle but noticeably lighter than usual—like a weight had been lifted.

Maybe it was the support from those around him, the kindness they showed. It gave him a sense of security he hadn’t expected. He realized that the day he eventually came out to his sister… might turn out better than he once feared.

By evening.

Everyone had dinner with Jiang Tian before heading home. As for Lu Qiao, he and Jiang Tian had come to an agreement.

Until Lu Yang’s sister finished recording her variety show, they’d keep what happened under wraps. Tomorrow, they’d let her and everyone else know, along with updates on everyone’s injuries.

That task was given to Lu Qiao—after all, Jiang Tian was the one most seriously injured and recovering from heatstroke. He needed to rest.

And with that, things were settled.

The three friends went home. Not long after, Chu Xuyu returned—not from work, but from a quick trip home. He brought back a suitcase with two sets of clothes and personal items.

Seeing him wheeling in a small suitcase and organizing Jiang Tian’s things, Jiang Tian felt guilty for lying around all day. He tried to get up and help.

“Lie down. Be good.”

Chu Xuyu’s tone was harsh, but his eyes were filled with concern. And finally, the emotion he’d been holding back from earlier—the one sparked by that email—could no longer be hidden.

“Did you know Yang Xiantong emailed me?”

Jiang Tian froze.

“…What?!”

Chu Xuyu hadn’t meant to frighten him, but his presence was naturally imposing as he walked over, still holding something in his hand.

“I’m not showing you the photos, though.”

“…”

Jiang Tian looked up in surprise—only to see Chu Xuyu leaning over him, casting a shadow that fell over his face. A kiss landed beside his ear, ticklish and hot.

“They were all pictures of you and that girl from today.”

Jiang Tian immediately grabbed the bedsheet and turned his face away, seriously explaining,  “She’s just a classmate.”

“I know.”

Chu Xuyu let out a low chuckle—quiet, almost mocking of himself.

“Do I really seem that dumb? As if one photo could shake my faith in us.”

“Then why are you acting jealous?”

Chu Xuyu didn’t deny it. He was jealous. He just wanted to tease Jiang Tian, to hear him say it out loud.

“I didn’t want you to overthink it,” Jiang Tian said softly.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever liked.”

Chu Xuyu’s breath caught fire.
“….”

The youth said it without even realizing it was a full-on love confession.

And Chu Xuyu reveled in it.

Still in his formal attire, he slipped off his polished shoes and climbed onto the white hospital bed, drawing closer to the boy.

“If we hadn’t met online… if you hadn’t realized you only liked men because of me… would you have tried dating girls?”

The air turned thick, charged.

Jiang Tian didn’t feel wronged or falsely accused. His cheeks flushed, heart pounding. He understood—Chu Xuyu was only trying to confirm his place in his heart.

But this man, despite his high status and mature face, was blushing too. His deep, wine-like voice was full of heat.

“Answer me.”

Jiang Tian’s eyelashes trembled. He didn’t know how to answer.

“I never thought about anyone else.”

“Really?”

Chu Xuyu’s gaze brushed over Jiang Tian’s hospital gown. His fingers were cool as he gently touched his hand.

“You really are such a good boy.”

Jiang Tian didn’t dare blink.
“….”

The next moment—

The sound of the curtain swaying filled the air.

It veiled the scene: a man leaning in to kiss the boy. Someone’s desire to express love was too strong—their Adam’s apple moved, and a name was whispered.

Jiang Tian, too weak to move, could only tilt his head back. In his periphery, he saw the man’s firm waistline—full of athletic strength—and how beautiful his skin looked under the moonlight.

The air conditioning was on… yet the breeze from the window was strangely warm.

“….”

Jiang Tian shut his eyes. He didn’t dare look. At that moment, he didn’t even know who the patient really was.

“Ge…”

“Are you okay?”

Chu Xuyu didn’t reply.

That slow-burning desire and possessiveness only deepened. Feeling Jiang Tian’s concern—nothing, nothing felt more intimate than that.

Right then—

Chu Xuyu lowered himself, couldn’t help but smile against his ear, and whispered:

“Baby.”

“You’re already mine. Forever.”