The sickly one in F4 was the group's darling.

A short while later, Ji Huaizhou returned with a white medicine box in his hand.

"How are you feeling now?" Ji Huaizhou asked.

Bai Ci spoke frankly: "It's cold, like cold air seeping into my bones."

Ji Huaizhou nodded, took out a tiny dark blue pill from the medicine box, and held it to his lips: "Hold it in your mouth, let it dissolve before swallowing. Your second brother brought it this afternoon. It's to dispel cold and stabilize the heart. It won't interfere with your usual medication."

Bai Ci did not speak immediately.

He stared at the pill on Ji Huaizhou's fingertip, which gleamed with a thin, cold light under the lamp. He suddenly wondered, why was it his second brother who sent it? Why now? Why did Ji Huaizhou know so naturally how to use this medicine?

How many other things have they secretly planned behind his back?

"Bai Ci?" Ji Huaizhou called out to him softly.

Bai Ci snapped out of his daze, opened his mouth, and put the medicine in. An extremely bitter and cold taste exploded on his tongue, making his whole face scrunch up and his temples throb. But he didn't say it was bitter, nor did he complain "It tastes awful" like he had that day.

He just held it in his mouth, lowered his eyes, and slowly clenched his fingers around the edge of the blanket.

Seeing his expression, Ji Huaizhou paused for a moment and said, "Bear with it, don't bite it off prematurely."

Bai Ci's cheeks puffed out slightly, he dared not bite down hard, the taste of the medicine making his tongue numb. He mumbled, "What kind of medicine is this? Does my second brother know about medicine?"

Bai Ci, with the medicine in his mouth, remained silent for a short while.

He truly didn't understand. A few days ago, he would have thought it was normal; his second brother was aloof, busy, and rarely seen, so it was understandable that he didn't know him. But now he suddenly realized that this so-called "lack of understanding" could have been genuine from beginning to end. The person was right in front of him, calling him "Bai Ci," bringing him medicine, and telling him not to tough it out, but what lay hidden beneath that thin layer of appearance? He knew nothing. His understanding of Bai Luochen mostly came from snippets of conversation from others: engrossed in research, aloof, rarely home, and keeping a snake that was more sensible than a human.

"I...I'm usually too quiet, so I never had a chance to ask," Bai Ci said, his voice hoarse from the medicine. "I only know that he's doing deep-sea geology, and he's quite capable."

After he finished speaking, he himself found his words laughably light. Pretty impressive. Everyone around him was impressive. Any one of them could easily fill a resume with achievements that most people could never attain in a lifetime. But beneath this "impressiveness" lay layers upon layers of hidden secrets, which he didn't know, and no one intended to tell him.

Ji Huaizhou glanced at him, his gaze lingering briefly on his face, as if assessing how much information he could handle at that moment.

"Deep-sea geology is just his public project," Ji Huaizhou said, his tone restrained. "He's the one who makes the final decisions on all of the Bai family's cutting-edge research and development lines. Biomedicine, special materials, environmental remediation—every reputable laboratory under the Bai family bears your second brother's approval stamp. In the Bai family's research and development system, your second brother's word is law. If he wants to inquire about any line of research, he can get the most crucial data at any time."

Bai Ci remained silent. The pill slowly dissolved on his tongue, the bitterness spreading down the back of his tongue, intertwining with the dull thumping of his heart. He suddenly felt that the deep blue bitterness of the pill was more direct than the hidden truths.

"But it wouldn't be entirely true to say he's just someone who buries himself in research," Ji Huaizhou said.

Bai Ci slowly raised her eyes: "What do you mean?"

"Your second brother isn't as scholarly as he looks," Ji Huaizhou said, then paused, before stopping himself, "But these things shouldn't be said by me. They should be told to you by someone from the Bai family."

Bai Ci felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

It's always like this. Shen Tinglan is like this, his second brother is like this, and Ji Huaizhou is like this. Everyone stops at crucial points, saying things like, "It's not my place to say this," "You'll understand later," or "You don't need to think about it now." Everyone seems to hold the key, but no one is willing to hand it to him. He doesn't dare to ask, and even if he does, he'll only ever get a half-answer. He can only remain trapped in darkness, waiting for others to judge him as "qualified enough" before they'll offer a few vague words.

"So, was this medicine... developed by the Bai family?" he asked softly, still without looking up.

Ji Huaizhou touched the white medicine box beside him with his fingertips and slowly shook his head: "It's hard to make a direct judgment. There's no serial number on the bottom of the box, nor any standard markings from the Bai family's laboratory, so it doesn't seem like a product from a regular R&D line. I've done a quick check of the ingredients, and the main ingredients inside are specially formulated versions. I can't find any records of them in the Bai family's publicly available materials database."

"There are two possibilities," he continued. "Either your second brother secretly developed this private formula through other channels, or it's a highly confidential project within the Bai family, the data of which wouldn't be entered into ordinary files."

Bai Ci's gaze fell on the white medicine box. It was very clean, excessively clean, without a single word on it. He suddenly realized that he was much like this medicine box now—placed in its proper place, arranged to receive things of unknown origin, repeatedly told "this is for your own good," but he had no idea what was printed on the bottom of the box.

"But whichever it is," Ji Huaizhou seemed to sense his low spirits and softened his tone slightly, "since he took the initiative to handle it, it means he has verified it and trusts it. Given your second brother's style of doing things, if he lets you use him, he must be confident."

Bai Ci didn't reply. A chill, indescribable and bitter, welled up inside him. He knew Ji Huaizhou meant no harm, that his second brother brought the medicine out of genuine concern, and that Shen Tinglan had put him to sleep tonight out of genuine care. But when every act of kindness was veiled in something else he didn't know, even saying "thank you" made his throat tighten.

He was so useless. He knew everyone had secrets, he knew even Xiao Qi might not be entirely innocent. Yet he still called Ji Huaizhou. Because he was unbearably cold, because his heart was pounding so hard his vision was blurring. When a person is at their most vulnerable, reason often gives in first. He hated himself for being like this, yet he couldn't help it.

Ji Huaizhou picked up a light gray card from the bedside table and handed it to him: "He included a handwritten instruction sheet with the medicine."

Bai Ci took it. The handwriting was slender and sharp, its strength penetrating the paper. The medication time, dosage, side effects, and contraindications were listed clearly, one by one. At the end, there was a small note:

"The medicine is bitter, so dissolve it in your mouth. Don't endure it for too long; if it's hard to swallow, take it in two doses, but don't drink water. It's best to take it under your tongue after nightfall. Please keep an eye on it, and notify me immediately if there are any abnormalities."

Bai Ci stared at the four characters "Trouble Young Master Ji" for a long time.

During the midday video call, his second brother had clearly reminded him, and he promised to let him know he was alright after taking his medicine. Yet, he immediately wrote this memo, dragging Ji Huaizhou into it as well. Did his brother distrust him and believe he would report the situation truthfully, or did he simply think that even something as small as taking medicine required supervision?