Xia Yang never expected Han Yi to actively participate in their “performance,” nor did he anticipate Han Yi would craft a script.
But it wasn’t the kind of “bed play” he had imagined.
“What? You want me to play dead in bed the whole time!” After hearing Director Han’s plan, Xia Yang felt utterly confused. This was the most literal, raw, and unembellished “bed” scene imaginable.
There were no lines, just sleep!
Although he questioned the script, Director Han was taking the reins for the first time, so Xia Yang felt obliged to support him fully.
If playing dead was the role, then he’d play dead. He was curious to see how the director’s solo performance would unfold.
Xia Yang removed his shoes and climbed onto the bed, carefully lying beside Han Yi, making sure not to touch his freshly operated leg.
“Do I really have to lie like this? Won’t it seem odd?” he asked, seeking guidance from the director.
Han Yi glanced at him. “If you don’t want to lie down, you can try lying on your stomach.”
Xia Yang: “…”
Never mind, lying on his stomach would be even weirder.
Just as they confirmed the script, Han Yi’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID—it was Mrs. Tang.
Xia Yang immediately assumed the professionalism of an actor. Before the director even called “action,” he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Director Han pulled the blanket up over them and raised his arm to start the video call.
The screen flickered, and Mrs. Tang appeared.
“Xiaoyi.” She looked closely at his face, frowning slightly after a few seconds. “It’s so early, why are you lying down already? You look a bit tired.”
Han Yi: “…”
“Is the honeymoon tiring you out?”
Han Yi: “…”
Lying beside him, pretending to be asleep, Xia Yang suddenly had to stifle a laugh.
Tired from the honeymoon… Grandma clearly understood what that meant.
Han Yi took a deep breath and said to the camera, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“You have dark circles under your eyes. You need to rest more,” Mrs. Tang advised, her tone full of concern.
Han Yi said nothing, just nodded slightly.
Mrs. Tang paused, scanning the room through the camera. “Where’s Xia Yang? Isn’t he with you?”
Xia Yang’s heart sank: What? He’d been pretending to be a corpse all this time and wasn’t even in the frame.
Clearly, Director Han’s camera skills needed work.
As Xia Yang silently criticized, he heard Han Yi’s calm voice. “He’s beside me, exhausted, already asleep.”
Xia Yang: “…”
Wow, he never expected Director Han would assign him this kind of role!
“I won’t wake him then. Let him sleep,” Han Yi added.
Mrs. Tang wanted to see her grandson-in-law, so Han Yi shifted the phone slightly. Xia Yang’s sleeping face came into view, breathing steadily, eyelashes trembling.
Professional level, acting at its best.
Mrs. Tang looked at him, a touch of sympathy in her eyes. “Young people should pace themselves in everything.”
She then glanced at her eldest grandson, a hint of reproach on her face.
Han Yi lowered his gaze, saying nothing, and the room fell silent.
After a moment, he said, “I should rest too. Is there anything else?”
“No, no, I just wanted to check on you two,” Mrs. Tang waved off.
“Okay, then I’ll hang up—”
“Wait,” Mrs. Tang interrupted just as Han Yi was about to end the call, seemingly noticing something. “Xiaoyi, what kind of hotel are you staying in? This place looks a bit… unusual.”
“…” Han Yi hesitated, unable to immediately respond.
Oh no!
Even great men can be stumped. Xia Yang thought to himself.
It seemed that Director Han, in his first directing attempt, hadn’t thoroughly considered set design and costume. No matter how upscale, a hospital room is starkly white, incomparable to a five-star hotel.
Given Han Yi’s limited knowledge in certain areas, he probably wouldn’t come up with a plausible explanation.
This clearly required some subtle assistance.
With this in mind, Xia Yang continued his act of playing dead, subtly moving his arm under the blanket, inching closer to Han Yi.
As their bodies touched, it was easy to reach Han Yi’s hand, causing him to stiffen.
Finding the back of Han Yi’s hand, Xia Yang gave a gentle squeeze for reassurance. He then opened Han Yi’s palm and began to write with his finger.
R-o-m-a-n-t-i-c.
It took a bit longer to write these words carefully. He didn’t want to rush, fearing Han Yi might not understand due to his limited cultural knowledge.
And somehow, the more he wrote, the hotter his fingertip felt, as if the surrounding air was warming up—he wasn’t sure if it was one of them getting flustered.
It took over a minute to finish the word. He squeezed Han Yi’s hand to signal, “Over.”
Han Yi still felt tense. Ever since Xia Yang had started writing in his palm, this awkward tension had been building.
Now that the answer was clear, Han Yi coughed lightly, pursed his lips, but couldn’t bring himself to say “romantic hotel.”
“We’re staying at a… bed and breakfast,” Han Yi finally said, after a slight hesitation, lowering his eyes. “It’s designed in a minimalist style with abstract elements, which is currently very popular…”
Pfft!
“Bed and breakfast,” “currently very popular,” indeed!
Xia Yang struggled to hold back laughter, clenching his stomach.
Whether or not he provided hints, Han Yi could smoothly cover things up.
Director Han was truly versatile, capable of both directing and scriptwriting. He could lie as convincingly as Xia Yang.
Mrs. Tang listened to Han Yi’s explanation, stunned into silence for several seconds. Fortunately, despite her skepticism, she didn’t press further.
The topic was swiftly dropped, and after a few more words, the video call ended.
The performance was complete, and both men breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well done, Director Han!” Xia Yang lifted his head from the pillow, propping himself on an elbow to give a thumbs up. “If you ever get tired of the cruise business, we can team up and conquer the entertainment world!”
Han Yi: “…”
Thanks, but no thanks.
…
For the next two days, Xia Yang stayed close by in the hospital room, monitoring Han Yi’s condition. All the indicators on the monitors were normal, and the antibiotics were administered on schedule.
One evening, a doctor came in for a routine check-up.
“Mr. Han, you’re recovering well. In a few days, you can try standing, but take it easy.”
Han Yi nodded. “Alright.”
“Continue to monitor the readings on the devices, and let us know immediately if anything unusual happens.”
Xia Yang nodded enthusiastically. “Got it.”
After the doctor left, the head nurse spoke up.
“If Mr. Han needs, we can arrange for a senior male nurse to assist with body cleansing. Our caregivers are highly qualified, with impeccable reputations and professional skills.”
Before Han Yi could speak, Xia Yang intervened.
“No need, no need. My husband is a very modest man and doesn’t like strangers touching his body.”
Head Nurse: “Uh…”
“Likewise, I don’t like it either. So, I’ll personally take care of it,” Xia Yang insisted.
Head Nurse: “Oh.”
Once the doctor and nurse had left, Xia Yang returned to the room, heading straight for the bathroom.
Han Yi’s gaze followed his back, recalling the document Aaron had asked him to pass to Xia Yang, titled “How to Provide Body Cleansing for Male Post-Surgery Patients – A Step-by-Step Guide with Illustrations.”
Of course, he hadn’t handed it over, thinking Xia Yang wasn’t serious about it.
As he pondered, Xia Yang emerged from the bathroom carrying a large basin filled with water, with a white towel floating inside.
Han Yi stared, puzzled. “What are you doing?”
“Of course, I’m going to help you clean up. Didn’t you hear what I said to the nurse?” Xia Yang said, a bit annoyed, as he clumsily placed the basin on a chair.
As the towel floated on the water like a white cloud, Han Yi watched him wring it out and asked, “Do you have any training in nursing?”
“Nope,” Xia Yang replied with a grin, flicking water droplets from his hands. “I asked Aaron for some resources, but he ghosted me. Not sure why.”
Han Yi: “…”
“But it’s just wiping your body. I don’t need training for that,” Xia Yang continued, spreading the damp towel. He sprayed some disinfectant on it before dipping it back into the water. “When I was little, we had a golden retriever. I always bathed and dried him.”
Han Yi: “…”
“I’m not a golden retriever, and I think there’s a significant difference between humans and dogs.”
“No worries, it’s not a big deal. The principles are the same!” Xia Yang patted his chest confidently.
Wringing out the towel again, he folded it neatly into a small square.
He gave a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. We have a contract; this is an added service. We’ll settle it all up later. Think of it as your contractor doing it for the money.”
Han Yi’s dark eyes lingered on his face for a moment before he lowered his gaze and softly agreed, “Okay.”
“Alright then, lie down. Let me know if I’m too rough.”
Xia Yang wasn’t completely unprepared. A quick search online brought up countless guides on patient care, including specific techniques for cleaning different body parts and the special attention required for male patients.
He felt proud of his excellent reputation as a caregiver. Where else could one find such a dedicated contractor?
Lying calmly in bed, Han Yi looked aloof and handsome, his expression stoic. The sterile white hospital gown he wore only intensified his air of restrained desire.
Xia Yang started by gently wiping Han Yi’s face, then his neck. Han Yi’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he reached for the remote to turn on the wall-mounted TV.
On the screen, a summer romance drama was playing.
The male and female leads were staring deeply into each other’s eyes, exchanging awkward lines:
“Don’t you think you’re being too much?”
“I do.”
“But… I really like your ‘too much.'”
Han Yi: “…”
He closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, and changed the channel, landing on a ballet duet—something he had never been interested in.
Xia Yang kept his head down, working diligently. After wiping Han Yi’s neck twice, he left to get fresh water and continued his task.
Han Yi, ever modest, wouldn’t want anyone else touching him, so Xia Yang only unbuttoned the top three buttons of the hospital gown.
“…Mr. Han, you have a great physique!” Even through the towel, he could feel the firmness of the body underneath. Xia Yang swallowed hard, trying not to drool from envy.
“These pecs could crush rocks.”
Han Yi: “…”
After wiping his chest twice, Xia Yang rinsed the towel again.
Sitting back down by the bed, he looked up. “Okay, I can’t clean below the knees because of the bandages. I’ll just clean above the knees and below the waist, alright?”
The man on the bed hesitated. Above the knees and below the waist…
Before he could say anything, Xia Yang reached for his waistband.
“!!” Han Yi’s heart raced as he immediately grabbed Xia Yang’s hand. “No, there’s no need.”
“Huh?” Xia Yang looked at him, puzzled. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No.” Han Yi swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact.
Xia Yang was about to say something when he noticed something unusual.
“Oh my! It’s about to explode!” He gasped, eyes wide, covering his mouth. “Han Yi, you… you… you’re…”
“?”
“The monitor! Your heart rate!” Xia Yang pointed to the monitor above the bed, shouting.
“Click”—he hit the emergency call button.
“Doctor! Doctor! My husband’s heart rate just spiked to 140! Come quickly and check if something’s wrong!”
Author’s Note:
“A Rapid Heart Rate Caused by a Simple Body Cleansing”
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Ummm…….
I honestly don’t know what to say here
Especially Xia Yang’s reaction