"Hello there?"
Tang Zeyan's voice was lazy, smooth, and deep enough to pull anyone out of a daydream. He waved a large hand in front of Ning Wen's face, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes.
"You seem lost in thought... or maybe—" he tilted his head, lips curving— "lost in my eyes?"
"Excuse me?" Ning Wen blinked hard, finally regaining his composure.
Tang Zeyan chuckled, the sound low and confident. "Just kidding. Nice to meet you. You're Doctor Ning Wen, right?"
Ning Wen hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod.
"Good," Tang Zeyan said, smiling like he already knew he had the upper hand. "I'm Tang Zeyan. I'll be in your care from now on. Please take care of me… Big Brother Ning."
His eyes didn't leave Ning Wen for even a second.
Before Ning Wen could say anything back, another voice broke in.
"I didn't expect Dad to assign us such cute caretakers."
A second man approached, just as striking, though where Tang Zeyan was all black polish and sleek charm, this one carried easy warmth. Tang Ruihan—brown leather jacket, lazy grin, and an air that said he never rushed for anyone—slung a bag over his shoulder and let his gaze wander. It lingered on Liang Yue a little too long.
"...Tang Ruihan," he introduced casually, dimple showing when he smiled.
Under the daylight, the two men looked like opposites cut from the same luxury cloth—Tang Zeyan all sharp edges and allure, Tang Ruihan the soft kind of danger that snuck up on you. Together, they made the quiet hospital ground feel like the start of trouble Ning Wen didn't sign up for.
"You two are the guests?" Liang Yue asked, perfectly composed—though his pulse had other ideas. "Why are you both late?" His tone was professional, clipped, almost too calm.
"Our car had some trouble on the way," Tang Ruihan replied. His voice was smooth, low, the kind that left a faint echo behind.
Ning Wen and Liang Yue exchanged a quick look, silently confirming neither of them was ready for this level of gorgeousness.
"Which one of you is the son, and which is the nephew?" Liang Yue asked, just to be sure.
"I'm the son. Tang Ruihan."
"And I'm the nephew. Tang Zeyan." Both smiled with the kind of ease that could end wars—or start them. The bus stop suddenly felt too small for their beauty. Even Ning Wen, who prided himself on composure, felt his heart skip once before he shoved it back into rhythm.
"Our caretakers seem to have gone all out for us," Tang Ruihan said, his gaze drifting to the little black-and-white cat faces printed on Ning Wen's and Liang Yue's shirts. "I feel bad for keeping them waiting, don't you?"
Tang Zeyan nodded, fighting a grin. "Terribly guilty."
Ning Wen shot Liang Yue a sharp look.
Liang Yue replied wordlessly with a pointed glare that clearly meant, 'How was I supposed to know they'd be walking jawlines? I would've dressed better.'
Ning Wen exhaled, quietly defeated. "Alright, enough. You've already wasted enough time—let's get moving." He gestured toward the bus.
The two newcomers followed them inside, and Liang Yue introduced them to the rest of the team. The chatter in the bus dropped to a hush, only to rise again in a storm of whispers. The girls, especially, were barely holding it together—half the seats looked one gasp away from fainting.
"Are you two models by any chance?" someone teased from the back.
"We could be, if you want us to," Tang Ruihan said with a wink that made half the bus combust into quiet giggles.
Tang Zeyan only smiled politely, more professional than playful. His gaze found Ning Wen. "Doctor Ning, where should I sit?"
"You two can take that empty spot over there," Ning Wen said casually, pointing.
The two cousins looked at the empty seats, then at Ning Wen.
"But, doctor," Tang Ruihan said smoothly, "aren't we supposed to be under your care?"
"Exactly," Tang Zeyan added, still looking at Ning Wen. "Wouldn't it make sense to sit with you?"
Ning Wen and Liang Yue shared the exact same look—somewhere between panic and resignation.
Liang Yue reacted first. "Ah, no way! I already promised my darling here a cozy trip." He wrapped his arm dramatically around Ning Wen's.
Ning Wen gave him a deadpan stare.
Tang Zeyan didn't react. His eyes never left Ning Wen. "Doctor Ning, maybe you should sit with me."
Tang Ruihan joined in, voice low and velvety. "And Doctor Yue can sit with me. That sounds fair, doesn't it?"
The bus went silent for a beat. Then someone yelled for them to hurry up. The driver revved the engine impatiently.
Ning Wen sighed, glaring at Liang Yue as if blaming him for everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. In the end, they had no choice but to agree.
"Come on, let's take the back," Tang Ruihan said, already pulling Liang Yue toward the last empty seat.
Ning Wen watched them go, then turned to find Tang Zeyan still standing there—expression calm, almost innocent.
"You don't mind sitting in the front, do you?" Ning Wen asked with a small sigh.
"Not at all. You can have the window seat," Tang Zeyan replied smoothly, clearly catching the hint beneath Ning Wen's words.
The bus jolted forward before Ning Wen could sit properly. He stumbled, losing balance—until a firm hand caught his wrist.
"Careful, doctor," Tang Zeyan murmured, his voice low and edged with warmth.
His fingers were long, steady, and too gentle for Ning Wen's sanity. The touch burned faintly even after he pulled away.
Ning Wen quickly sat by the window, putting on his earphones like armor, pretending the world didn't just tilt sideways. Music filled his ears, but it didn't drown out the faint sound of his own heartbeat—or the awareness of the man beside him.
Tang Zeyan sat next to him, back straight, one arm resting casually on his bag. The playful glint from earlier was gone; his expression now quiet, unreadable. Still, his eyes flickered once toward Ning Wen's reflection in the glass—soft, thoughtful, almost too gentle for someone who had teased so easily moments ago.
Settling comfortably into his seat and fixing his expression, Tang Zeyan stretched his long legs and said casually, "So, Doctor Ning, I've got a few questions. Hope you don't mind answering."
The bus hummed steadily along the road, sunlight flickering through the windows.
Ning Wen pulled out one earpiece, assuming it'd be something work or camp related. "Sure. What do you want to know?"
"How old are you?"
Ning Wen blinked, taken off guard. "And how exactly is that related to the camp?"
Tang Zeyan tilted his head with mock innocence. "When did I say it was about the camp?"
"Then I'm not answering that."
"Why not? I just want to know my caretaker better. You're my senior, after all."
Ning Wen sighed inwardly. The boy was persistent.
"Come on, doctor," Tang Zeyan pressed, voice smooth and teasing. "What's your age?"
"Something in two digits—and older than you," Ning Wen said dryly.
"Ooh... 26 then?"
Ning Wen glanced at him, faintly surprised by the accuracy. Maybe it wasn't hard to guess. He gave a reluctant nod.
Tang Zeyan grinned, leaning just a little closer. Their arms brushed. "Three years apart. Not bad."
Then, with a soft hum, his tone shifted. "Another question, Doctor Ning Wen... are you single?"
The air between them suddenly changed—lighter no more. There was something sharp, deliberate, in Tang Zeyan's gaze.
"I don't think that concerns you," Ning Wen replied, frowning.
Tang Zeyan shrugged, lips curving lazily. "You don't have to tell me. I can guess." His voice dropped lower, quiet enough that only Ning Wen could hear. "With your looks and your age... I'd bet you're not single. Am I right, or am I right?"
Ning Wen didn't answer. He just leaned his head back against the seat, closed his eyes, and let his silence speak.
Tang Zeyan only smiled wider—like he'd won something.
Tang Zeyan chuckled under his breath, breaking the silence again.
"So, what are you listening to, Brother Ning? Hip-hop? Classical? Jazz? Maybe bass? Any favorite bands? Oh wait—don't tell me you're into sad ballads?"
His tone was easy, curious, the kind of chatter that could go on forever.
Ning Wen felt his temples throb. The boy talked too much. But still, he answered evenly, "I listen to whatever sounds good. Depends on my mood."
And that was true—he had no favorite genre or band. If the melody felt right, it stayed with him.
He didn't look at Tang Zeyan. His gaze stayed fixed outside the window, earphones back in place. The soft music faded into the hum of the bus, cold wind brushing over his pale face. His silky hair moved lightly in rhythm with the breeze, a few strands falling across his eyes. His lips curved faintly upward, relaxed for the first time that morning, simply enjoying the quiet view and the clean air.
Tang Zeyan didn't say another word.
From beside him, Ning Wen could sense stillness—a different kind of silence, thick and heavy. He assumed the boy had finally grown bored.
He didn't know that Tang Zeyan, half-leaned against his seat, wasn't sleeping or relaxed at all. His long fingers fidgeted on his knee, and his jaw had gone tight. Those sharp hazel eyes stayed fixed on Ning Wen's side profile, the faint smile, the soft calm.
For once, there was no tease in his expression—only something quiet, unreadable, and dangerously close to fascination.
Ning Wen calmly unlocked his phone, carefully keeping his gaze away from Tang Zeyan. He opened his messages and texted Liang Yue, hoping his friend was faring better with the other young man.
Ning Wen: You alive? How's the situation there?
A reply came instantly—dozens of crying emojis.
Liang Yue: Wen Wen, darling, help me!
Ning Wen frowned. What now? he typed.
Liang Yue's next messages came rapid-fire:
Liang Yue: I don't know what's happening! My heart's acting weird! This guy beside me—he's too… too charming. He keeps staring at me with that faint smile. He barely talks, just hums whenever I try to start a conversation! Why didn't cardiology ever cover THIS type of heart issue?!
Followed by another wave of crying faces.
Ning Wen chuckled quietly, shaking his head. At least Tang Ruihan wasn't the talkative type. But apparently, he had mastered the silent torture technique—killing people softly with his stares and hums.
Still smiling, Ning Wen tucked his phone away—only to freeze.
That prickling feeling again. The sense of being watched.
He turned his head, and sure enough, Tang Zeyan was staring right at him. Their eyes met. Tang Zeyan blinked once, slow and deliberate, before smiling like the world's most harmless creature—innocent, relaxed, and absolutely unbothered by being caught.
Ning Wen swallowed, forcing himself to look away and press play on his music again. The song wasn't helping much when his pulse had decided to start its own rhythm.
He sighed inwardly. Both cousins share the same brain cell… and it's chaos.