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Liu Sang is dying.
He can feel it, and it goes beyond the physical symptoms of his stomach cramping, the constant shaking and that fact that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be warm again. It’s bigger than all of those things, heavier, and it’s pressing down on him with a certainty that he is not much longer for this world.
Poison. It’s the only explanation. He doesn’t know how, or the precise reason why, but it doesn’t come as a huge surprise. The grave robbing industry is a cut-throat business, quite literally, and what Liu Sang has learned from the various jobs he’s worked was bound to get him into trouble eventually. Someone wants to keep him quiet, or ensure he doesn’t take a job with a rival. It could be any number of things, but the reasons why don’t take away from the fact that he’s dying.
He curls in on himself as another spike of pain stabs through his stomach. He doesn’t know what kind of poison they’ve used, or how they got him to ingest it, but this is without a doubt the worst pain he’s ever been in, and that’s saying something.
He’s already thrown up the entire contents of his stomach, and now he just feels wrung out and drained, with barely enough energy to keep his eyes open.
It would be easier to just close them. He’s so tired. He could just close them right now and if he never opened them again, well, he’d like to say he’d had a good life, but overall it’s been pretty shitty. At least he made a name for himself, earned some respect in the industry, and managed to meet his ouxiang before he died.
He might not have much, or in fact anything, in the way of family or friends but he did the best he could with what he had.
So, yes, closing his eyes and letting himself go would be the easy option. But when has he ever done anything that’s easy? He’s fought hard for every scrap that he has, and as tempting as it might be to let go he really doesn’t want to give whoever poisoned him the satisfaction of completing the job.
It might not be too late. The symptoms had hit him suddenly, pulling him from sleep when his stomach started cramping, but it hasn’t been that long since he woke up and threw himself into the bathroom to empty his stomach. Depending on what kind of poison they used there might still be time.
He fumbles for his phone, cursing when it slips from his trembling fingers and clatters to the floor but thankfully doesn’t break. He’s started opting for a sturdy phone rather than something sleek and pretty ever since he started going into tombs with Wu Xie and he’s never been more grateful for that than he is right now.
He tries again, although it’s difficult to see the screen clearly thanks to how much his eyes are watering from both the pain and the puking.
He finds Huo Daofu’s number. Huo Daofu might be all sharp and prickly with Wu Xie, but he’s always been kind to Liu Sang. And Liu Sang saw how Huo Daofu had kept Wu Xie alive long past where the odds should have allowed. If anyone can help him, it’s Huo Daofu.
“Help me,” he says as soon as he hears the call connect. Time isn’t on his side, and he doesn’t have the energy to say anything but what’s important. “I’m in my apartment.”
Pain stabs through his stomach again, and even though he has nothing left to throw up he groans and hauls himself up off the floor and over the edge of the toilet just in case. His arms are shaking, and he doesn’t know how long he can hold himself up like this.
He glances back down at his phone and sees the call has already disconnected. He hopes that means Huo Daofu is on his way, and that he’ll make it here in time.
The last of the strength leaves him and he lets go of the toilet and crumples back down onto the bathroom floor. He knows he should stay awake until Huo Daofu gets here but it’s getting harder with each passing moment.
He lets his eyes drift closed. He’ll either wake up again or he won’t. His fate is in someone else’s hands now. It’s not something he relishes the thought of. He’s always managed fine on his own before, but that was before Wu Xie. Wu Xie forced him to rely on others, and made him accept that it was an option in the first place. Now he just has to wait and see if that lesson is going to save his life or not.
There’s nothing else for him to do but rest and hope.
He’s surprisingly comfortable when awareness comes back to him, and he wonders if that means he’s dead.
Although if death feels like being warm and comfortable then it’s not so bad.
He allows himself a moment. He doesn’t think he feels dead, but then how is he supposed to know what being dead actually feels like? He also feels suspiciously like he’s in bed, and he’s not sure whether he wants to open his eyes and confirm it or not. If he’s in bed that means Huo Daofu got to him in time, but if he’s not then that means a rather unpleasant alternative.
What he does notice is that his stomach still hurts, although it’s less of a stabbing pain and more of an empty ache now. There’s also a rather unpleasant taste in his mouth. Why would the afterlife feel like this?
He decides to risk it and cracks one eye open. He immediately regrets it when the light sends a sharp spike of pain through his head. Okay, so he’s probably not dead given how awful everything feels.
Keeping his eyes closed seems like the sensible thing to do for now, given how much opening just one of them hurt. He uses his other senses instead.
Using his hearing causes another flare of pain in his head, but it’s not as bad as it was when he tried to open his eyes, so he endures the discomfort.
Someone is in his kitchen. He can hear the clattering of dishes and cupboards being opened and closed. There’s also the unmistakable sound of a steady heartbeat, and it feels strangely comforting considering there is someone in his home.
It must be Huo Daofu. He might like Liu Sang more than the others, but Liu Sang has no doubt he would also stick around for long enough to scold Liu Sang for doing something as foolish as letting someone poison him.
Given that Liu Sang is still alive to receive such a scolding, he’ll take it with no arguments. Then he’ll find out who it was who poisoned him and make sure they suffer for it. He has resources, even more since word spread about his work in Thunder City. Whoever it was who did this to him had better make sure they’re far away by the time Liu Sang is recovered enough to get out of bed and find them.
Getting out of bed is probably something he should try. The longer he lies here like this, the more time the person who did this to him has to get away.
He opens his eyes, both of them this time, and ignores the way the pain flares in his head again. He can deal with his headache later. Right now, he needs to move.
Once his eyes adjust to the light, he confirms that he is, in fact, in his own bed. Given that the last thing he remembers is lying in agony on his bathroom floor, that means someone - Huo Daofu presumably - had carried him here. Somehow, that’s even more humiliating than the impending scolding for getting poisoned.
He pushes himself up onto his elbows and immediately regrets it. The pain in his head gives way to dizziness. It feels like the whole bed is at sea, rising and falling, dipping and tossing. If there was anything left in his stomach, he thinks he might throw up. Instead, his arms give way, and he crumples back onto the bed, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, which is ridiculous. All he did was sit up. But he can feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones, and his eyes feel so heavy that he couldn’t keep them open even if his life depended on it.
He doesn’t even have time to think about trying to move again before unconsciousness takes him.
Waking up the second time is a little easier. His limbs feel less heavy, and the aching in his head has faded enough that when he opens one of his eyes, it doesn’t immediately feel like someone is stabbing him in the face.
Huo Daofu must still be here, because although the kitchen is now quiet, Liu Sang can hear the muted sounds of the tv coming from the living room. Something with a lot of gunfire and explosions by the sound of it, which Liu Sang wouldn’t have thought was Huo Daofu’s style, but then what does he know? It’s not like he and Huo Daofu are friends. Liu Sang doesn’t have friends, he has people he works with, and he doesn’t like to get close to them in case, well, in case something like this happens. Getting close to people you work with means they have the chance to do things like poison him.
Wu Xie had tried to push the whole friendship thing after Thunder City, but the dinner invitations eventually stopped after Liu Sang had turned enough of them down. It’s for the best.
He should try getting out of bed again. The desire to find whoever tried to kill him hasn’t waned while he was asleep, and although he doesn’t know how much time has passed between the first time he woke up and now, it’s clearly enough that whoever his would-be assassin was is likely long gone. The sooner he moves, the better.
He’s not going to let something like a lack of a name or the passage of time stop him. He needs to make it clear to this person, and anyone else who might be having similar ideas, that trying to kill Liu Sang is not to be recommended.
He pushes himself up onto his elbows and is grateful when this time he doesn’t immediately collapse again. His stomach does let out a loud noise, which might have been embarrassing if anyone else was around to hear it. He’ll deal with his unhappy stomach later, depending on what Huo Daofu recommends. Liu Sang freely admits he’s not the best about heeding medical advice, but he will this time if it gets him back on his feet more quickly.
Well, unless Huo Daofu tells him to rest. He doesn’t have time for that.
Speaking of being on his feet, that’s what he needs to try next.
His head spins a little as he sits fully upright, but it’s nothing he can’t cope with. He’s been more dizzy than this after being in a noisy room for a few hours.
He needs to wash his hair, he thinks as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and then brushes his hair out of his face. He has no idea how long he’s been in bed for but his hair feels greasy and he’s pretty sure it stinks of vomit.
His head spins more intensely when he finally makes it to his feet, but he refuses to allow himself to collapse again. He locks his knees and takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes until the dizziness passes.
Getting to his feet is the hardest part, though, and he’s managed that. Now all he needs to do is walk.
He puts one foot in front of the other and it’s like stepping onto rubber. He half expects to see his foot sinking into the floor; it feels that unsteady. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Sang-bei? What are you doing out of bed?”
Liu Sang’s head jerks up at the sound of a voice that is definitely not Huo Daofu’s. In fact it’s not a voice he ever expected to hear in his home, given that the owner of it doesn’t actually like him.
Unfortunately, the sudden movement of his head does not combine well with his dizziness and shaky legs. He feels his legs crumple first, then hears Pangzi make a startled noise, and the last thing he feels before his vision fades away completely is strong arms wrapped around him.
As though this situation isn’t already humiliating enough.
There’s something on his face, tickling his cheeks first and then his forehead. He swats it away, only for it to come back a moment later.
“That’s it, Sang-bei. I know you’re awake. Come on, open your eyes for Pang-ye.”
That just makes him screw his eyes more tightly shut, because if he opens them, then that means he has to deal with the fact that Pangzi is in his home and caught him when he fainted like something from one of those terribly dramas Wu Xie has tried to inflict on him as a way to pass the time when they’re travelling together for a job.
“I’ve got soup,” Pangzi says and Liu Sang can smell it now. It’s not an overpowering scent, but it feels warm and comforting. And considering Liu Sang spent most of the previous evening throwing up he’s surprised at how hungry the smell of the food is making him feel.
It’s that, more than anything, that makes him open his eyes.
“There you are,” Pangzi says with a warm smile that Liu Sang finds suspicious. Is this another prank? He’s really not in the mood for it right now. “No one can resist my soup. I make this for Xiaoge whenever he’s sick or tired. Come on, sit up and you can have some. It’ll have you back on your feet in no time.”
“I can manage,” Liu Sang snaps when Pangzi leans over to help him. He’s not actually sure he can manage, but he’s definitely not going to give Pangzi the satisfaction of seeing him even more pathetic than he already has.
It’s probably not dignified but Liu Sang manages to shuffle himself into a sitting position and adjust his pillows so that his back is supported. Just that small amount of effort leaves him feeling dizzy and exhausted but at least he managed it without help.
“Here,” Pangzi says, holding out a spoonful of soup just in front of Liu Sang’s mouth. “Open wide.”
Absolutely not. There is no way he is going to sit here and let Pangzi feed him like a child.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to—” he splutters when Pangzi uses Liu Sang’s talking as an opportunity to shove the spoon of soup into his mouth while it’s open. He swallows instinctively and the moment it hits his stomach he wants more.
It must show on his face because Pangzi grins at him in a way that Liu Sang would find more infuriating if he wasn’t so hungry.
“Good, right?” Pangzi beams. “Come on, let me give you some more. No, none of that.” He swats Liu Sang’s hand away when he reaches for the spoon. “There’s no shame in letting me feed you. Tianzhen and Xiaoge let me do it all the time. Unless you think you’re better than your Ouxiang, of course…”
It’s a dirty trick and Liu Sang scowls at Pangzi for even trying it. But he’s more annoyed at himself because it’s working. If his ouxiang will let Pangzi feed him then why shouldn’t he? No one has ever taken care of him like this before and it makes him feel weird. Like he wants to crawl out of his own skin.
“Has Huo Daofu gone?” he asks between spoons of soup, which is warm and filling and he’s trying not to think about how comforting it feels or he might do something even more humiliating and cry in front of Pangzi.
“Huo Daofu? Was he here earlier? Before you called me? I haven’t seen him.”
Before he called…? Last night is mostly a blur but he definitely remembers calling Huo Daofu and asking for help. But Huo Daofu isn’t here and Pangzi is, and something is curdling in his stomach that has nothing to do with his recent bout of vomiting.
“Did I…” he clears his throat. “Did I call you last night?”
He’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.
Pangzi sighs. “You know I expect Tianzhen and Xiaoge to cause my hair to turn grey prematurely, but getting a call at 2am from you sounding barely alive and asking for help definitely contributed as well.”
Pangzi holds up a lock of his hair that’s a mixture of black and strands of silver. “This was black yesterday, you know?”
Liu Sang has no idea what he’s supposed to say to that. Mostly, he’s surprised Pangzi showed up at all and didn’t just leave him to die.
No, that’s not fair. Pangzi might not like him, but he wouldn’t just leave Liu Sang to die. Mostly because Wu Xie would do those sad eyes that wrap Pangzi around his finger.
“I meant to call Huo Daofu,” Liu Sang mutters. “You didn’t need to come.”
Pangzi snorts. “Huo Daofu? He might be handy when it comes to dealing with life-threatening illnesses, but this is something I can easily deal with. Plus, my bedside manner is considerably better than his.”
None of this explains why Pangzi is here, though. Why didn’t he call Huo Daofu? Or any other sort of doctor. Xie Yuchen has medical training and so does Hei Xiazi. Surely any of them would be in a better position to help than Pangzi. Pangzi doesn’t even like him!
“You know how to treat poison?” Liu Sang asks, sceptically. It’s not totally outside the realms of possibility, he supposes. They’ve all dealt with all kinds of things on their various tomb adventures. But how did Pangzi even know what sort of poison it was?
“You said you needed help so I came,” Pangzi says and he’s looking at Liu Sang like he’s some sort of idiot now and it makes him bristle.
“You could have sent someone else,” Liu Sang replies. “Anyone else. I know you don’t like me.”
“I don’t—” Pangzi frowns at him. “Wait, is that what you think?”
“You don’t need to pretend just because someone tried to kill me,” Liu Sang huffs. He’s tired, and this conversation is just making him feel even more so. “No one else is here.”
“And yet here I am,” Pangzi points out. “You think I cleaned up your puke, tucked you into bed and made you my special soup because I don’t like you? And what’s all this about someone trying to kill you?”
“I know the symptoms of poison,” Liu Sang replies. “I don’t know how they did it, or who did it, but as soon as I can get out of this stupid bed I’m going to find them and—”
Pangzi walks out of the room while Liu Sang is in the middle of talking, and that really isn’t doing much to reassure him that he doesn’t dislike him.
“I know who poisoned you,” Pangzi says as he re-enters the room. “He’s still here, actually.”
Okay, that Liu Sang wasn’t expecting. “You caught him? Who is it? Can I talk to him?”
Pangzi shrugs. “I mean if you want, but I don’t think you’ll get much out of him.”
Pangzi clearly doesn’t know how persuasive Liu Sang can be when he puts his mind to it. “Just let me talk to him and—”
Pangzi produces something from behind his back which makes the words die in Liu Sang’s throat. It’s clearly the empty packet of oysters that he used in his dinner the previous night.
“Don’t you check the dates on things before you cook them?” Pangzi asks.
Liu Sang frowns. Usually he does, but last night he was tired so maybe he didn’t pay as much attention as he usually does. But those hadn’t been in the fridge that long, surely.
Pangzi sighs and sits back down next to Liu Sang’s bed again, leaning over and pressing the back of his hand to Liu Sang’s forehead. “Well, your fever has broken at least. And I think you’ve got it all out of your system now. Soup and rest, that’s what Doctor Pang-ye prescribes.”
Liu Sang’s mind is still whirling. So no one poisoned him? And Pangzi came just because Liu Sang asked him to, and stayed to take care of him. It’s all a bit much to take in and the exhaustion is starting to weigh on him again.
“Okay, time for you to lie down and sleep some more,” Pangzi says, helping Liu Sang to settle back down in his bed. He hates feeling this helpless, and he hates that Pangzi of all people is the one helping him, but most of all he hates how good it feels to have someone take care of him while he’s sick.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says once he’s lying down in his bed. “I’m okay now.”
Pangzi smiles down at him, and brushes his hair back from his face. There’s no teasing or humour in his eyes now. He just looks fond, and it makes Liu Sang’s stomach feel weird in a way that he doesn’t think has anything to do with bad seafood.
“I don’t hate you, you know?” Pangzi says as Liu Sang’s eyes start to drift shut. “Quite the opposite actually.”
He tugs the covers up over Liu Sang’s shoulders and Liu Sang almost wants to cry from how comforting it feels.
“Get some rest,” Pangzi says. “We can talk about it when you wake up.”
Weirdly Liu Sang finds that he’s actually looking forward to that and he drifts off with a smile on his face.