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A bitter chill had settled over Shanghai. Snow was usually a rare occurrence, but it had been three days since the freezing snowfall had started, and only now abating into lighter flakes.
The bad weather also led to an all-time low crime rate, so Qiao Chusheng used the opportunity to hold a training camp of sorts with the policemen, much to their despair. It was grueling, yet to Qiao Chusheng it was a rewarding challenge to endure such punishment and hone his body.
Finally on the third day he decided to have mercy on his poor underlings, ending the hellish training and letting most go home to rest. At first, he was planning to stay behind and lead the skeleton crew. Yet out of nowhere, Lu Yao came to mind. They hadn’t had any contact since the training started, so he couldn’t help but think about how the lanky detective was coping with this frigid temperature.
‘He’s probably cocooned in blankets in front of the fireplace,’ he assured himself while walking just a little bit faster. ‘Surely he wouldn’t freeze to death without Bai Youning around…’
Soon enough, he reached the apartment. It was a relief to see a warm glow coming through the windows, but it was eerily quiet inside. Qiao Chusheng knocked on the door firmly as he brushed off some snow from his shoulders.
“Lu Yao? It’s me,” he called out. When no response came, he frowned and knocked again. “I know you’re in there, I can see the fire lit. Let me in, please? I won’t let much cold air in.”
Silence still. The inkling of worry returned, but Lu Yao might have gone to bed already and had merely left the fire going. Not wanting to disturb him or the neighbours anymore, he pulled out the key given to him ‘for emergencies only’ and used it to unlock the door.
A wall of heat enveloped him as he stepped inside, so much so that he stripped his coat off immediately and hung it up before looking around. He zeroed in on the fireplace, the fire hidden behind the couch. Standing at the entranceway, Qiao Chusheng could just see a flop of backlit hair on the armrest.
The inspector sighed and shook his head. ‘Such a simple life of luxury, falling asleep in front of a crackling fireplace.’ It was not a statement out of envy, but more like a resolution. It wasn’t Qiao Chusheng’s fate to live that kind of life. His place was in the dark, the underworld. Lu Yao was different, he could only survive if he stayed in the light, where Qiao Chisheng would do anything to keep him safe.
With soft steps, he drifted over, intending to convince the sleepyhead to go to bed. As he got closer, the orange fire danced into view, oddly with no protective grating. And then, with an ice-cold dread, he registered an arm laying on the edge of a footrest, so close to the scorching flames that the delicate skin where the tendrils flickered over burned vermillion red.
Qiao Chusheng must have let out an undignified yelp as he dived over the backrest in alarm, stretching out to the limit trying to reach the burning limb. Even in those few seconds, he could already feel the searing heat on his fingertips. Qiao Chusheng’s hand was suddenly caught instead, pulling it urgently away from saving the arm. He looked downwards with agitation, where Lu Yao’s startled expression stared back up at him. The detective’s face was ashen, glistened with sweat, and pinched in pain. And his arm was still lying there, still burning.
“Move your arm!” Qiao Chusheng ordered, but it came out more like a desperate plea. “What are you doing?”
Lu Yao grimaced and glanced at the limb in question for a beat, before with an unmistakable reluctance the inspector couldn't yet fathom, slowly lifted the trembling arm onto his chest.
Not many things could scare Qiao Chusheng, but there was something about the idea of Lu Yao intentionally burning himself that sent waves of terror through his whole body. With Lu Yao’s other hand still latched onto his wrist, Qiao Chusheng grabbed onto the couch and heaved backward, sliding it unceremoniously over the wood floor and away from the dangerous flames.
“Stay,” Qiao Chusheng mumbled, moved out of the loosened hold, and headed to the kitchen. He found a clean cloth and filled a bowl with freezing cold water. By the time he returned, Lu Yao had sat up, his increasingly shaking arm cradled against himself. Qiao Chusheng knelt in front of him and carefully met his gaze.
Lu Yao averted his eyes. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Qiao Chusheng frowned. “We can talk about that later. I need to treat the burns first.”
But Lu Yao shook his head, eying the submerged cloth with trepidation. “No, it’s too cold,” he whispered.
“It has to be cold to help, Lu Yao.”
The detective shook his head again frantically, tears of pain and panic welling up. “You don’t understand! My arm feels so cold. So cold I can’t bear it. The fire was helping! I know my skin was getting burned, but I need the heat. I can hardly feel the burns, I promise, but the cold really, really hurts.”
Qiao Chusheng hesitated, conflicted. He could see how unnaturally the limb shook, experiencing intense muscle spasms completely different from normal shivering and isolated to the arm only. The burned skin was red as if it had been scrubbed raw, but there weren’t any visible blisters. He took a deep breath and nudged the bowl of freezing water away. It would only make Lu Yao suffer too much if he attempted to treat the burns right now.
“Is that the only way? Using fire?”
Lu Yao bit his lip, eyelids squeezed shut. “That’s the only thing that helps. The cold will last another hour or so, I just need to be close to the fire for a bit longer. The burns can be treated after.”
The last thing Qiao Chusheng wanted to do was let Lu Yao get close to the fireplace. But Lu Yao was visibly getting worse, hunched over and panting in agony. The inspector swiftly got up and pushed a separate two-seater couch in front of the fireplace, judging a distance that was near but definitely not near enough to touch the fire. He held onto Lu Yao as they sat together on the new seat, a firm hand stopping Lu Yao from moving closer to the fire.
Qiao Chusheng lifted the arm in both hands towards the heat, and gently squeezed with his fingers. “Does that hurt?”
“A little, but it also feels nice,” Lu Yao breathed, calming down slightly now that they were next to the fire.
The inspector nodded, concentrating on slowly kneading. “I won’t let you burn your skin even more. If you say the cold will go away soon, then hold on until then. I’ll massage the muscles to try ease the pain some, okay?”
The detective nodded, leaning heavily on the other and tilting his head into the nape of Chusheng’s neck for comfort. Quick puffs of warm air tickled his throat.
“Okay. It’s helping, I think. Even though it doesn’t feel warm enough, it’s not so painful anymore.”
Qiao Chusheng shuffled his body to accommodate the other snuggling against him. His calloused fingertips tentatively pressed into Lu Yao’s soft palm, and the long fingers curled instinctively closed.
“Rest now,” Chusheng murmured. “I’ll stay here with you until the snow melts.”
End