Chapter 59

He didn't rush to shake him awake—he couldn't move him without knowing what was wrong.

Being without electricity was a real pain. Chen Jue couldn't find the flint or the candle right away. He hadn't been the last one to bed these past few days, so he had no idea where Huo Jilin had stashed the candle and flint before turning in.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, and Chen Jue frowned. Huo Jilin's face was turning blue—looked like he wasn't getting enough oxygen.

This was a seizure.

Chen Jue quickly grabbed Huo Jilin's jaw, about to shove the pillowcase in his mouth so he wouldn't bite his tongue, when Huo Jilin's body started shaking violently. Then, after the seizure, he just stopped breathing.

It had only been a few seconds.

No—maybe he'd been struggling to breathe for a while now. He'd slipped into a coma while asleep, which was why he couldn't wake up.

Chen Jue knelt before him and began performing CPR.

He'd done this kind of rescue countless times, but never once with this much regret weighing on him.

He should've noticed something was off with Huo Jilin earlier.

He should've caught it when Huo Jilin kept tossing and turning next to him that night, when his breathing got heavier and heavier.

Even if the wind was strong tonight, it wasn't anywhere near typhoon-level like in later years.

Huo Jilin shouldn't have been affected by wind like this...

He'd let his own emotions get in the way and turned a blind eye.

He'd made this mistake before.

Earlier, when Huo Jilin asked why he wasn't worried about him having PTSD, he'd said someone like Huo Jilin couldn't possibly have post-war stress disorder.

His judgment had been clouded by personal grudges—he wasn't a qualified doctor.

Whatever the reason, Huo Jilin's symptoms right now were exactly that.

He wouldn't show his stress symptoms during the day, but on a night like this, he couldn't control it, and it led to coma and shock. This was the most dangerous kind of situation.

Since no one could see his hidden symptoms, he was more dangerous than Zhou Qingshan.

Chen Jue pressed his palm to Huo Jilin's chest and kept doing compressions, over and over. Outside, lightning kept splitting the sky, followed by rumbling thunder that sounded like a painful wail.

The darkness and the lightning seemed locked in a struggle—one desperately tearing through the sky, the other effortlessly swallowing everything.

The lightning was fighting a losing battle.

Sweat dripped from Chen Jue's forehead, and the darkness only made his fear worse.

On a night like this, in his past life, he wouldn't have thought twice. But here, he couldn't help but wonder.

He wondered if the heavens were trying to take someone tonight.

The last time there was a storm this bad was when they set up Huo Lin's cenotaph.

So what was this one for?

He leaned down to give him mouth-to-mouth.

He pressed his lips to Huo Jilin's ice-cold ones, breathing life into him.

In the dark, Huo Jilin opened his eyes, then shut them again when lightning flashed.

His fingers twitched slightly, and the tightness in his chest slowly eased.

Chen Jue's lips were cold too, just like him. But his arms were strong—pressing down on his chest hard enough to hurt. Better than the numbness, anyway—he was awake.

A nightmare had almost taken him out—he hadn't seen that coming.

He lost count of the compressions, but finally, under his palm, he felt a heartbeat. It went from weak to strong, and the lightning outside grew fiercer.

He used the lightning's light to look at Huo Jilin.

Huo Jilin had opened his eyes and was staring at him, gaze blank, like he wasn't really there.

Chen Jue stopped, but didn't say anything.

He wasn't sure what Huo Jilin's exact symptoms were. Huo Jilin used to get annual check-ups, and his reports were always normal. But this was Huo Lin's body—one that had barely survived the battlefield, covered in scars.

Maybe a clap of thunder or a flash of lightning could trigger his PTSD.

Chen Jue slowly leaned back, exhausted himself. His stomach was even starting to feel tight.

Once Huo Jilin turned his head to look at him, eyes clear and body back under control, Chen Jue grabbed the half bowl of water from the kang table and handed it over: "Drink some."

He'd spilled some while fumbling for the flint, but there was still half a bowl left.

Huo Jilin finished the water, set the bowl back on the table, and leaned against the wall. He was sitting pretty close to the window, and every time lightning flashed outside, he'd instinctively squeeze his eyes shut.

Even though Chen Jue had guessed the thunder and lightning had triggered Huo Jilin's stress disorder, he was still a bit stunned to have it confirmed. How could Huo Jilin be scared of thunder?

"You wanna come over here?"

If you're scared, don't sit so close.

But Huo Jilin shook his head, staring out the window like he was punishing himself.

No matter the era, weird weather always gets people's attention. Even if people have built solid houses and put up lightning rods, no longer afraid of wind or rain, they still instinctively watch the sky.

Because man can't beat heaven. If the earth were destroyed, even Superman wouldn't survive.

Chen Jue thought back to his earlier idea about the heavens taking someone and gave a faint smile.

Humans are so tiny compared to nature.

Especially the two of them.

Because the two of them weren't from this world—their bodies weren't even theirs, just borrowed.

And if they could be borrowed, there'd always come a day when they'd have to be returned.

Outside, thunder and lightning kept striking, and Chen Jue watched with a detached look.

Huo Jilin leaned against the wall for a bit to recover, then lit the candle. Turns out he'd put the candle and flint on his side all along.

By the candlelight, Chen Jue checked his expression. His face was still pale, but he'd definitely come back to life.

"You... you're Huo... Jilin?"

Huo Jilin looked at him, his gaze soft, and as Chen Jue's face darkened, he smiled at him, "It's me, Doctor Chen."

Chen Jue was silent for a moment. He truly wasn't a materialist anymore—for a doctor, that was a devastating blow.

Huo Jilin was also looking at Chen Jue. Was Chen Jue worried about him?

Had he been afraid that someone else had taken over the body just now?

If Chen Jue hated him so much, why did he still hope he'd come back to life?

If the one who came back was Huo Lin, wouldn't Chen Jue be less tormented?

He had no answer, and he didn't dare ask. For the first time, he didn't dare ask what was going on in Chen Jue's heart.

Huo Jilin fell silent too. The candle, as if tired of their silence, let out a soft 'pop' as a spark burst.

Huo Jilin looked at Chen Jue again. Chen Jue was resting his hands on his stomach, leaning back slightly, the dim candlelight casting a shadow across his face, making it look pale.

His lips were so pale—no wonder they'd been so cold to the touch.

He was exhausted.

This man, who yesterday had seemed ready to strangle him and cut all ties, had gone all out to save him tonight.

He'd even given him mouth-to-mouth.

Doctor Chen had a kind heart.

Huo Jilin looked at him, "Why did you save me? I don't want to hear any of that medical ethics and compassion stuff."

So overbearing right after waking up.

Chen Jue was speechless. What else would it be?

Chen Jue shot back, "You have post-traumatic stress disorder. Did you know that?"

Huo Jilin was silent for a moment, then said, "It's nothing."

Chen Jue scoffed, "I only woke up tonight because I went to bed early. If I hadn't woken up, you'd be dead."

Huo Jilin smiled, "Then thank you for saving my life. Let me figure out how to repay you."

Chen Jue simply said, "No need. I don't want a dead man lying next to me."

Huo Jilin said in a flat tone, "Maybe that person will come back."

Chen Jue opened his mouth, then went quiet.

So even Huo Jilin thought that way? So he wasn't the only one who'd turned to superstition.

After a long moment, he looked at Huo Jilin. "How did you die?"

The question had finally been asked.

Since Huo Jilin wasn't the culprit who killed Jiang Xinhe, and was someone so important, always surrounded by attendants—how could he have died?

This was something Chen Jue had never been able to figure out, but he'd kept it bottled up and never asked.

Huo Jilin was silent for a moment at that. Just as Chen Jue was about to say 'if you don't want to talk about it, forget it,' Huo Jilin spoke, his voice light, "A plane crash. I ran into a thunderstorm."

Chen Jue paused. "Struck by lightning... killed?"

A bolt of lightning struck right on cue. In the flash, he saw Huo Jilin close his eyes, his face twisting slightly. Had he really guessed right?

Huo Jilin's mouth twitched, and he couldn't help but glare at Chen Jue. Would you watch what you say?! What do you mean, killed by lightning!

Isn't it normal for a plane to crash in a thunderstorm?! But Huo Jilin only seethed inwardly.

Because Chen Jue had hit the nail on the head.

He was pretty upset about it too. He never thought he could die in such an absurd way.

A plane crash—he'd flown so many years, even flown himself several times, and never encountered anything so ridiculous.

He'd deliberately picked a clear, sunny day for the flight, but halfway through, the weather turned—in an instant, dark clouds rolled in, thunder and rain crashing down.

That thunder... when it struck, the private plane nosedived.

That rapid descent... he'd relived it tonight, so it was still vivid in his mind.

Huo Jilin gritted his teeth, thinking, damn it all, Chen Jue had hit the nail on the head—he was killed by lightning.

Chen Jue was focused on something else: "Was it a private jet or a commercial airliner? Did the whole plane go down? How many people were on board?!"

He'd rather worry about those people than comfort him.

Huo Jilin gritted his teeth. "Private jet! Including me, only four people!"

Chen Jue said, "Oh. That's not too bad."

"Chen Jue, can you watch what you say? Isn't my life a life?"

Chen Jue looked at him. That wasn't what he meant. Every life matters—those three lives too. He'd also made the mistake God makes, thinking fewer deaths meant luck. That was wrong, and he acknowledged it.

When it comes to human life, everyone is equal.

But Chen Jue refused to admit fault, and said to him, "Don't you check the weather before flying a private jet? Don't you have a control tower? In such a thunderstorm, you still insisted on flying—what was so important that you had to fly in that?"

Huo Jilin stared at him gloomily. "It was something very important, had to be done that day. I asked the abbot of Baiyun Temple to pick the date—couldn't be off by even a single minute."

Chen Jue was speechless. Rich people were getting more and more superstitious. The problem was, Huo Jilin was the CEO of a pharmaceutical company—he should be a firm believer in materialism, and he was even a Party member!

Huo Jilin was still looking at him. "Aren't you going to ask what it was?"

Chen Jue asked, "What was it?"

Huo Jilin looked at him and said softly, "To scatter your ashes."

A bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating his face. For a moment, Chen Jue thought he saw sorrow on his face.

The sorrow was so heavy that his face was so calm it looked empty, drained of all color.

Chen Jue's chest tightened. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. He blurted out instinctively, "You... cremated me and scattered my ashes?"