BFILWY CH 55

Chapter 55: Falling into a Coma

Outside Ye Qinghe’s room, An Yue heard a faint, weak moan—just one sound—and he immediately pushed the door open, rushing inside.

The moment he stepped in and saw the scene before him, his heart nearly stopped from fright. He finally understood where the thunder from his dream had come from.

The pure titanium insulated cup that Ye Qinghe usually kept on his bedside table had fallen to the floor, rolling far away. Water was spilled everywhere, and that deafening crash must have been the sound of the cup hitting the ground. But An Yue had no time to think about why the cup had fallen—because, along with it, Ye Qinghe had also collapsed onto the floor, partially wrapped in his blanket.

Ye Qinghe had likely taken off his bathrobe before sleeping last night, leaving him dressed only in his underwear. Now, he was half-naked, tangled in a corner of the blanket, curled up in a trembling heap on the wet floor. An Yue rushed to his side, his hands pressing against Ye Qinghe’s exposed skin—cold as ice, drenched in sweat. He had no idea how long Ye Qinghe had been lying there like this.

An Yue yanked the blanket off the bed and tightly wrapped it around him. “Young Master Ye, what’s wrong? Where do you feel unwell?”

If only he had checked on him as soon as he woke up this morning… No, if only he hadn’t thrown a tantrum last night, if only he had stayed in this room, stayed by his side, then Ye Qinghe wouldn’t be lying here, freezing on the floor. Regret burned through An Yue as he gently shook Ye Qinghe, trying to wake him up.

Nestled in An Yue’s arms, Ye Qinghe frowned uncomfortably, struggling to breathe as he forced out his words, “Headache… dizzy… feel like throwing up…”

As soon as he spoke, he clamped his lips shut, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, clearly trying his best to hold back the nausea surging in his stomach.

An Yue helped him sit up against the bed frame and quickly pulled the trash bin over. Aunt Chen had just emptied it yesterday and replaced the liner, so the only thing inside was a few used cotton swabs from the night before. He placed the bin in Ye Qinghe’s arms, then grabbed an old towel, tossed it onto the wet floor, and used his foot to rub it around in an attempt to absorb some of the water. Without wasting another second, he ran back to his room to grab his phone and called for an ambulance.

Just as he finished the call, he heard the sound of Ye Qinghe retching. An Yue hurriedly fetched a cup of warm water and brought it to him so he could rinse his mouth. After rinsing, Ye Qinghe slumped weakly against the bed, panting. An Yue went to the wardrobe, pulled out a set of clothes, and started helping him get dressed.

“I don’t want to move… I feel dizzy…” Ye Qinghe’s face was pale as he feebly resisted An Yue’s attempt to lift him.

“Be good, put on some clothes. I called an ambulance—they’ll be here soon,” An Yue coaxed him softly, though his heart was in turmoil. He moved as gently as possible to minimize Ye Qinghe’s discomfort.

After much effort, he finally got him dressed. Just as he was about to put socks on him, Ye Qinghe suddenly clutched his head, his voice trembling as he murmured, “It hurts… it hurts so much…”

Before An Yue could even respond, Ye Qinghe’s body went limp and collapsed sideways.

An Yue let out a panicked shout, dropping the half-worn sock as he frantically shook Ye Qinghe, calling his name over and over. But Ye Qinghe was completely unresponsive—he had already lost consciousness. No matter how much An Yue yelled, he couldn’t wake him.

He quickly checked Ye Qinghe’s breathing and pulse. Fortunately, he was still alive.

Forcing himself to take deep breaths and stay calm, An Yue finished putting the other sock on Ye Qinghe before dashing out of the room. He grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet, shoving them into his backpack. Ye Qinghe’s identification was inside his own wallet, so he threw that in as well. Slinging the backpack across his chest, An Yue rushed out to press the elevator button, then sprinted back into the room to carry Ye Qinghe out.

By the time he struggled to the elevator with Ye Qinghe on his back, the doors had already opened on the eighth floor. An Yue staggered inside, anxiously jabbing at the close-door button and the ground floor button, praying no one else would need the elevator at this moment.

Ye Qinghe was taller and heavier than An Yue. Normally, with his lack of training, carrying him would have been impossible. But with adrenaline surging through his veins, An Yue somehow managed to haul him onto his back. Even so, Ye Qinghe’s weight nearly crushed him, making it hard to straighten his back. He had to lean against the elevator wall, gritting his teeth to hold himself up.

Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor. The moment the doors slid open, he heard the piercing wail of an ambulance siren approaching. Relief flooded An Yue—help was here! He stumbled forward with Ye Qinghe, barely making it a few steps before the paramedics rushed inside.

“Here! Over here! The patient is here! I’m the one who called for the ambulance!” An Yue shouted at the paramedics.

Two of them hurriedly wheeled a stretcher into the lobby, helping An Yue carefully lay Ye Qinghe down. They immediately checked his vital signs and external condition, moving with practiced efficiency.

An Yue quickly recounted everything that had happened that morning. After a brief hesitation, he also mentioned the head injury Ye Qinghe had sustained the night before.

Within thirty seconds, the paramedics had assessed Ye Qinghe’s condition. Since he didn’t require immediate CPR, they determined it was best to transport him to the hospital right away. They raised the stretcher and rushed out.

An Yue ran alongside them, but just as they reached the ambulance, his legs suddenly gave out, and he collapsed to his knees.

The paramedics had just secured the stretcher inside when they turned back and were startled to see him kneeling on the ground. One of them blinked in surprise. “Uh… there’s no need for such a grand gesture…”

He reached out and pulled An Yue into the ambulance, half amused, half concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” An Yue muttered, rubbing his aching knees in embarrassment. “Just a little weak in the legs.”

“Well, considering you carried him all the way down by yourself, no wonder your legs gave out,” the paramedic remarked. He signaled the driver, and the ambulance sped toward the hospital with sirens blaring.

Inside the ambulance, the paramedics monitored Ye Qinghe while asking An Yue about the patient’s personal details, symptoms, and medical history. One of them was jotting notes on a form when he turned to An Yue and asked,

“What’s your relationship with the patient?”

An Yue had answered all the previous questions smoothly, but this one caught him off guard.

What was his relationship with Ye Qinghe?

He opened his mouth but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

The paramedic finished writing his own name on the form and looked up in confusion when An Yue suddenly went silent. “Are you his family? Or a friend? I’ll need you to sign here.”

An Yue snapped out of his daze. “…Friend.”

He took the pen the paramedic handed him and signed his name on the form.

At the hospital, Ye Qinghe was taken straight to the emergency room. An Yue stayed by his side, answering the doctors’ questions and running around for tests and reports.

When the preliminary results from the CT scan came back, nothing abnormal was found. The ER doctor reviewed Ye Qinghe’s medical history and contacted his neurologist, Dr. Yang, for a consultation. Without hesitation, Dr. Yang arranged for him to be admitted to the hospital.

By the time Ye Qinghe was settled into a private ward, it was already nighttime. He had briefly woken up once, eyes shut, repeatedly murmuring that his head hurt before vomiting a small amount of stomach acid. Dr. Yang prescribed a sedative and medication to reduce intracranial pressure, allowing Ye Qinghe to drift back into sleep.

An Yue was in a daze, unsure why Ye Qinghe had suddenly lost consciousness. He remembered that Ye Qinghe had often mentioned having headaches, but An Yue had never taken further action. Had he delayed treatment and worsened Ye Qinghe’s condition?

Overwhelmed with guilt, he repeatedly explained everything to Dr. Yang, hoping the doctor could figure out the cause based on the details he provided.

Dr. Yang reassured him, “Don’t worry too much. The brain is an extremely delicate and complex organ. Since Ye Qinghe suffered a serious head injury before, it’s not unusual for him to experience headaches, dizziness, or even a second loss of consciousness. These are expected aftereffects, not a result of poor care on your part. Don’t blame yourself.”

He continued, “In fact, based on his CT scan, the blood clot from his previous injury is now gone, and the surrounding brain swelling has subsided. Physically speaking, his recovery has been quite good.”

“Then why did he still pass out so suddenly?” An Yue was still uneasy.

“We’re still investigating. The head trauma from last night could also be a contributing factor,” Dr. Yang explained. “I’ve scheduled an MRI ^[1]for his brain, but the earliest available slot is tomorrow afternoon. For now, we’ll monitor his condition closely. I’ve instructed the nurses to check his vitals every hour. If anything happens, just press the call button. I’m on duty tonight, so I’ll be in the hospital the whole time. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“Alright,” An Yue said gratefully. “Thank you, Doctor. Sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Dr. Yang patted his shoulder. “Ye Qinghe is under Jin Chun’s special care, and I’ve been friends with his Uncle Jin Chun for decades. There’s no need for formalities.”

Once Dr. Yang left, the hospital room fell silent. The mention of “Uncle Jin Chun” reminded An Yue that he needed to notify others.

He first called Auntie Chen. As expected, the moment she heard that Ye Qinghe was hospitalized, she panicked and insisted on coming over immediately.

“Auntie Chen, there’s no need. It’s already very late. You should rest first—I’ll stay with him tonight,” An Yue reassured her. “Come by tomorrow instead, and maybe bring some porridge with you. He hasn’t eaten anything today, and I’m worried he’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

An Yue wasn’t sure if Ye Qinghe would wake up tomorrow or if he’d even be able to eat, but he knew giving Auntie Chen something to do would keep her from feeling helpless.

“Alright, alright. I’ll make some porridge and bring it over in the morning. Thank you for staying with him tonight,” Auntie Chen said.

After hanging up, An Yue called Ye Qinghe’s assistant, Zhang Yongfeng.

Zhang Yongfeng was surprised but remained calm. After listening to An Yue’s explanation, he assured him that he would notify the necessary people and repeatedly thanked An Yue for his help.

An Yue ended the call, feeling a mix of emotions.

From Zhang Yongfeng’s gratitude, to Auntie Chen’s worried “thank you for your hard work,” to the paramedic’s simple question earlier—

“What is your relationship to the patient?”

Each moment served as a constant reminder of An Yue’s place.

“Friend.” At the time, he had hesitated between choosing “family” or “friend” before finally settling on the latter.

But An Yue knew—

They weren’t friends.

He was just someone who had recently appeared in Ye Qinghe’s life.

Someone Ye Qinghe had paid for.

An outsider.

(To be continued…)