Chapter 12

But “unlikely” didn’t mean “no hope.”
The psychiatric specialists said Jing Miao had very high intelligence and strong learning ability. With time and stimulation from the outside world, his cognition might slowly grow. Psychologically, it was like an amnesiac finding the key that unlocks memory—once he developed an inner desire to grow, he might gradually move toward adulthood.
At that time, Jing Miao tested as having the perception of a seven-year-old, yet the intelligence to do middle-school math.
Now he could understand English and do higher mathematics.
So what “age” was his perception now?
Xi Siyan didn’t dare think too far.
He had been caring for him as if he were seven, never considering that Jing Miao might already be a teenager.
If so, did he need to change how he treated him?
What kind of “gege” did a teenage boy want?
“Gege?” Jing Miao called him.
Xi Siyan snapped back to himself. Seeing the expectation in Jing Miao’s eyes, he relaxed his stern expression.
“Miaomiao, you got almost everything right. You’re incredible. What reward do you want? What do you want to eat tomorrow? Gege will make it for you.”
Jing Miao’s eyes were wet and shining. “Anything counts as a reward?”
“Mm. Of course.”
Jing Miao climbed onto Xi Siyan’s lap, sat on him, hooked his arms around Xi Siyan’s neck, and pointed at his own lips in a spoiled voice:
“Can I ask for gege… like at night when we sleep… can you kiss me?”
Xi Siyan’s breath caught.
He had never kissed Jing Miao when Jing Miao was awake.
They slept together every night, and Jing Miao clung to him tightly. There were times Xi Siyan couldn’t endure it—and then, when Jing Miao was asleep, he would suppress his breath and desire and kiss him.
At first it was frequent kisses to the crown of his head and his brows.
Later it became the side of his neck and his collarbone, or lifting his hand and kissing each finger.
Later still, it escalated: holding his chin, kissing him until Xi Siyan couldn’t let go—until he would spend a long time locked in the bathroom afterward.
Jing Miao had never woken.
Xi Siyan thought he didn’t know.
“You knew?” Xi Siyan’s voice trembled. He couldn’t be sure what Jing Miao’s mental age was now. If he was still seven, after the terror of what had almost happened before, how would he interpret this?
Xi Siyan held his waist, his gaze dark.
Jing Miao nodded. “I knew, gege.”
“You pretended to sleep? Then why didn’t you push me away?”
“I didn’t pretend,” Jing Miao shook his head. “I was kissed awake. When I’m awake, gege only holds me, only kisses my forehead. When I’m asleep, gege gets close like that. I didn’t dare wake up.”
What did that mean?
What did that mean?
If Jing Miao were a normal twenty-one-year-old, how was that any different from seducing him?
With that face—so beautiful—those innocent eyes, and words that tugged at desire.
Xi Siyan’s throat went dry.
“You… you don’t think there’s a problem? You’re still young. When I do this—are you scared?”
“I’m not young!” Jing Miao argued fiercely, punching Xi Siyan’s chest with his fist. “I’m not young! I’m not scared!”
“Then how old are you?” Xi Siyan grabbed his flailing hand.
How old?
He didn’t know.
Jing Miao fell into confusion. He had no clear sense of age. He couldn’t remember how old he used to be, and he didn’t know how old Xi Siyan was either.
“I don’t know… Gege, how old are you?”
Xi Siyan guided him patiently.
“I’m twenty-seven. Do you know what twenty-seven means?”
“You watch *Despicable Me*, right? Gru and Lucy—they’re married. They kiss. Gege is that age—an age where you can marry and kiss.”
“What about baby? Which one of the three kids are you?”
Jing Miao thought seriously, then answered:
“Then I’m twenty-seven too. I’m not a kid. If I want to marry gege, I have to be the same age as gege, right?”
Xi Siyan laughed.
The atmosphere wasn’t truly romantic. They had just finished a test paper, and now it felt like reasoning with a child.
But then Xi Siyan pinched Jing Miao’s chin and kissed him—decisive, deep, leaving no room for retreat. He held him tightly, urgently, his hand sliding beneath the hem of the loose sleep shirt to brush Jing Miao’s skin.
Kidneys. Stomach. Ribs. Chest.
Then Xi Siyan abruptly released him.
Jing Miao was still dazed from the sudden exchange of heartbeats.
Xi Siyan held him close, eyes and nose burning, as pain rushed too fast into his chest.
Car horns.
Impact.
Screams—
The sounds flooded his ears as if he’d been stripped of breath, and he gasped.
That car crash… Jing Miao had lain in the hospital for over a month. The collision had been so violent that his ribs broke, shattered bone piercing his organs, bleeding without end. Surgery after surgery. Millions upon millions spent. Critical-condition notices issued again and again—only then was Jing Miao’s life dragged back.
Xi Siyan only had to touch him to remember what this fragile body had endured for him, and the pain would make him unable to breathe.
“Gege, don’t cry…” Jing Miao seemed to know what hurt him. He held him and comforted him. “I don’t hurt. It’s all better now, gege.”
That night they held each other. Jing Miao was like a fish stranded on shore, able only to flick its tail.
He exhausted himself and fell asleep.
Xi Siyan felt helpless and tender. Without a doctor’s clear diagnosis, he didn’t dare confirm what “age” Jing Miao truly was now, and he didn’t dare go further.
He wanted to go to the bathroom to deal with his own desire—but Jing Miao, half-asleep, grabbed him unconsciously.
“Gege, don’t go.”
The kind of trouble that came from happiness.
Xi Siyan didn’t need a mirror to know what state he was in.
He had prepared himself to raise a child for life. One door was all it took for him to switch between “Jing Miao’s gege” and “cold Xi Siyan.” He would never be satisfied—yet would also be satisfied forever.
Now it seemed everything was changing again.
Jing Miao couldn’t leave him at all, and he was also slowly growing up.
But if he eventually regained adult perception… would he still refuse to let go even in sleep?
Two days later, Xi Siyan coaxed and tricked Jing Miao into going to the hospital.
Because of what happened before, Jing Miao had developed a new fear of hospitals. Fortunately, his health hadn’t had major problems over the last year, so Xi Siyan avoided hospitals as much as he could—usually asking Gan Zishen or the previous attending physician to visit their home instead.