Hot flashes

"You tend to kick off the covers when you sleep at night," Xiao Jue reminded him. "Turn the air conditioner up a bit, and don't forget to turn on the humidifier, otherwise your throat will hurt again in the morning."

"I—" Zhou Heng opened his mouth, just about to say "I understand," when Xiao Jue had already seamlessly slid to the next item.

"There's also breakfast." Xiao Jue turned to look at him, his expression suddenly becoming serious. "Your stomach isn't good, probably because you've been skipping breakfast for a long time. Before, you would get up early at the school cafeteria and eat a couple of bites, but during winter break at home, no one was watching you, so you probably skipped it."

You should drink at least a bowl of porridge or a warm cup of milk every morning when you wake up; don't try to fast until noon. Fasting for too long will cause stomach acid to burn the stomach lining, and this can lead to health problems over time.

He grew increasingly uneasy as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the direction of the residential complex entrance ahead: "How about I go back with you for the New Year?"

Zhou Heng walked beside him and glanced at him sideways. Xiao Jue's expression was neither exaggerated nor joking.

Zhou Heng said helplessly, "Xiao Jue, I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

Xiao Jue's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to refute, but he opened his mouth and then closed it again. At that moment, the wheels of the suitcase rolled over a small pebble, making a short, sharp cracking sound, before returning to the steady rumbling sound it had been making.

They had reached the entrance of the residential compound. A dark-colored taxi was parked on the side of the road, its hazard lights flashing rhythmically.

Zhou Heng stopped, and Xiao Jue opened the trunk and put Zhou Heng's suitcase inside. The lid closed with a dull thud.

Zhou Heng walked to the back seat, opened the car door, and glanced at him.

Xiao Jue walked over, his hands hanging at his sides.

"Message me when you get home." His voice sounded somewhat downcast.

Zhou Heng nodded.

"Call me if anything happens," Xiao Jue continued, "I'll definitely come over."

Zhou Heng nodded again.

He bent down and sat in the back seat, and the car door closed behind him.

The car window slowly rolled down, revealing Zhou Heng's face behind it.

The taxi driver stepped on the gas, the car moved forward slightly, and began to slide on the asphalt road.

Xiao Jue stood on the steps at the entrance of the residential area and glanced at the license plate number of the car.

After the taxi had driven a short distance, the driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, a warm smile playing on his lips: "You two brothers have such a good relationship. In all my years of driving, I've never seen anyone with such a close bond."

Zhou Heng sat in the back seat, his gaze shifting from the receding street scene outside the window to the rearview mirror.

His voice came from the back seat: "Not brothers."

The driver smiled warmly, still very enthusiastic: "Oh, not blood brothers, then good friends? Good brothers? That's a rare find; these days, it's not easy to have friends this close."

Zhou Heng sat in the back seat, the light from the window shining in from his side, illuminating half of his face.

His voice came from the shadows: "He's my boyfriend."

The air inside the car went still for a moment.

The driver's face stiffened for a moment, then he chuckled dryly, his voice carrying a forced lightness born of an effort to maintain a semblance of composure: "That's rare indeed."

Zhou Heng did not speak again.

The street scene outside the window kept changing, from the sycamore trees at the entrance of the community to the shop signs along the street, and then to wider roads and taller buildings.

The taxi drove much faster than before. The driver didn't try to strike up a conversation again.

We arrived at our destination quickly.

Zhou Heng opened the car door and got out. He bent down and took two boxes out of the trunk, placing them at his feet.

He straightened up, about to say "thank you," when the taxi let out a low roar of its engine, its tires rolled over the road, and it sped away, its exhaust fumes condensing into a white mist in the cold air before quickly dissipating.

Zhou Heng didn't pay attention. He turned his head, pulled up his suitcase, pushed open the door, and went inside.