Death Progress Bar

laughter, and it took him a moment to come back to his senses.
Wearing a “what am I going to do with you” expression, he surrendered his fruit pie.

After that breakfast conversation, the distance between the two narrowed a lot.
Shi Jin became bolder and more casual in front of Lian Jun, and Lian Jun tacitly consented.

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That afternoon, everyone gathered to discuss the R&R leave.
Gua One and the others noticed the subtle change but said nothing.
After the meeting, Gua Two grabbed the astonished Gua Six and dragged him aside for a long talk.

So, when Shi Jin went to Gua Six for his pass card, he found the way his new colleague watched him was a bit odd.

Gua Six was gentle and honest-looking.
He was a little older than Gua One, and pretty much watched Lian Jun grow up—he doted on him like a family elder would on a junior he was very fond of.
Now that this cherished junior suddenly found someone special, all sorts of feelings welled in the elder’s heart.

“Xiao Jin, right? You… how old are you?” Gua Six asked.

Shi Jin thought the man’s strange expression was because he looked too young, and lied shamelessly: “Almost twenty.”

Twenty? The age difference is not so big to be unacceptable.

Gua Six nodded and took out a blank pass card.
He extended his hand toward Shi Jin: “Please give me your ID card, I need to enter the information.”

Shi Jin obediently handed it over.
After it left his hand, he remembered his date of birth was on it, and his expression stiffened.
Damn it, the cat’s out of the bag.

Gua Six already noticed the date of birth on the ID card.
He paused then looked at Shi Jin, taken aback.
“Didn’t you round it up a bit too much?” You became an adult just a few months ago.

“It’s my mental age.” Shi Jin refused to admit defeat.

Gua Six entered the relevant information and asked, heart shaking a bit, “About Jun-shao… Do you think he’s old?”

Shi Jin was confused.
“Old? Jun-shao will be twenty-six this month, that’s not old.” He was the same age when he died in his previous life.

Gua Six’s eyes brightened, and he spoke faster.
“You remember Jun-shao’s birthday?”

“I do.
Why are you looking at me like that, is it hard to remember?” His reaction spooked Shi Jin a little.

Gua Six got a grip on himself, smiled, and waved to show it’s nothing.
He said cheerfully, “It’s not hard to remember but to want to remember.
Oh, right, right, this is your pass card, I gave you the highest level of privilege.
Go play and have fun.”

Shi Jin walked away, bemused.

Gua Six smiled with satisfaction.
“He remembered Jun-shao’s birthday offhand—it seems he really has Jun-shao in his heart.
Very good, very good.”

Lian Jun didn’t want to go to the dining hall for dinner, and Shi Jin was also disinclined to move.
So, the teenager called the kitchen and asked them to send food up and set the table on the terrace.

Lian Jun had no objections to his choice and was happy to take his seat.

They ate in pleasant harmony.
Afterward, Shi Jin saw Lian Jun didn’t immediately leave to deal with documents, and his mind moved.
He took the opportunity to say, “Jun-shao, we’re on the island already.
That massage… Would you like to give it a try?”

Lian Jun glanced at him and didn’t answer, but his expression was still tranquil.

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“Come on, try it.
I gambled and lost, you shouldn’t just let me off, or I’ll never learn.” Shi Jin’s words of self-reflection were high-sounding.

Lian Jun’s eyebrows wandered up.
He propped his chin on his hand and asked in a voice lazy as if intoxicated by the sea breeze: “Why are you so dead set on that massage, Shi Jin?”

The morning conversation changed things between them a little.
This time, Shi Jin didn’t evade but replied honestly, “I want to take a look at your legs.
Muscles that aren’t used will atrophy.
Uncle Long said you refuse to take care of your legs, so I’m a bit worried.”

Lian Jun’s expression changed a little.
He looked away and said, “Worrying about it is useless.
I always keep in mind the condition of my body.”

“We don’t call this ‘keeping in mind’ but ‘resigning yourself to it,’” Shi Jin rebuked, a rare serious expression on his face.
“Your legs aren’t disabled.
After conditioning your body, the nerves won’t be as sensitive, and the aftereffects will disappear.
If you rebuild your leg muscles, you’ll be able to walk like a normal person.
You can’t just decide to give up at the beginning.”

“I was born like this—it was what God decided, not I,” Lian Jun answered, as if he had accepted his fate.

“Lian Jun, you can’t think like that.” Shi Jin frowned, feeling an oncoming headache.

As expected, Lian Jun was the epitome of a bad patient—Uncle Long’s occasional grumbles hinted as much already.

He didn’t eat well, and before Shi Jin came, he even drank despite knowing his stomach couldn’t stand it.
He also hated medicine.
Trying to cure someone like that was downright frustrating.

After their earlier conversation, however, Shi Jin thought he could guess why Lian Jun had this kind of attitude.

Annihilation’s transformation was rapid and dangerous like mountain rafting: not even the slightest mistake was allowed.
There was no time for Lian Jun to care about his physical condition, he was also probably disgusted with his current, useless body.
It was likely he intended to wait until his brothers were safe, then offer his head to the officials to make a thorough conclusion.
Why would the man who’d already planned for his own death take care of his body?

Lian Jun saw Shi Jin’s expression troubled as if the young man wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what.
Unexpectedly, he smiled.
“You care more about my health than I do, Shi Jin.
Can you tell me why?”

This smile looked very nice, but it frustrated Shi Jin.

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Shi Jin frowned.
He glanced at the progress bars in his mind then took another look at Lian Jun’s seemingly indifferent appearance, and said, “I want you to be healthy and live a long life.
In my current position and identity, isn’t this an obvious wish to have?”

Lian Jun eyed him silently, digesting his answer.

Shi Jin also didn’t speak.
He was thinking about ways to improve Lian Jun’s outlook and spirit.

“All right.” Suddenly, Lian Jun lowered the hand that supported his chin, the rare relaxed appearance replaced by his usual reserved look.
He moved his wheelchair toward the small lounge room connected to the terrace and asked, turning his head, “Didn’t you want to massage my legs? You have all the tools with you, right?”

Shi Jin started, and his eyes lit up.
He rushed to push the wheelchair and enthused, “Now we’re talking! Where there’s life, there’s hope.
Rest assured, I have everything with me, and I’ll do everything to make the massage comfortable.”

The tools Shi Jin mentioned consisted of three things: massage gadgets brought only for appearance, medical massage oil provided by Uncle Long, and a small wireless speaker for music.

The massage venue was set up in Lian Jun’s room.
Shi Jin first prepared a hot bath for Lian Jun to soak in.
Then, following information he’d collected, he asked for a softer than usual massage table to be brought over.

When everything was ready, he connected the speaker with his phone, found the playlist with the soothing instrumental music he’d downloaded earlier, and tapped play.

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The next second, soft and ethereal music filled the room.
Combined with the distant waves, it subsided people’s emotions.

Shi Jin was quite pleased.
He nudged Xiao Si in his mind.
“Gua Two got me this speaker.
With how good the sound quality is, it must’ve been expensive.”

Xiao Si didn’t answer.

A bit uneasy, the teenager stopped fiddling with the speaker.
“What’s the matter, Xiao Si? The success of this massage depends on you, you can’t get cold feet at this time.”

Xiao Si:

What was this strange sound?

Shi Jin frowned and asked anxiously, “What’s the matter with you? Is there really a problem?”

Xiao Si’s voice suddenly calmed and became a bit serious.
Then it blurted at twice the usual speed:

Shi Jin reflexively listened and slammed right into a slightly damp chest.
The mild scent of bath milk filled his nose.

“This music is nice.” Lian Jun took the speaker from Shi Jin’s hand, examined it briefly, and set it on a cabinet.
Then he leaned forward to look at the massage table behind the younger man, nearly embracing him, and asked with a sideways glance, “Should I lie down directly?”

Shi Jin held his breath, his eyes shifting from Lian Jun’s collarbone still beaded with water to his Adam’s apple, then down to his chest, wrapped in a black silk bathrobe.
They shifted further down to the man’s feet on the luxurious carpet.
Finally, he looked back up at Lian Jun’s face, taking in his damp, tousled hair, and took a deep breath.

Damn, was this really Lian Jun? He simply took a bath and messed up his hair, so how come he felt like another person? Does standing or sitting, and a hairstyle, make such a difference?

Thwack.

A flick on his forehead woke Shi Jin and made him look at the only other person in the room.

Lian Jun lowered his hand and bypassed Shi Jin to lie down on the massage table.
The loose hem of the bathrobe spread out, exposing a pair of long, slender legs.
“Let’s get started.”

Both his expression and voice were calm and natural, light years away from his actions a moment ago.

Shi Jin’s eyes were glued to him as he moved.
The impact of his appearance was too great because even though it was the first time Lian Jun let him see his legs, the teenager didn’t pay any attention to them.
Instead, he stared at the hem of Lian Jun’s bathrobe and asked, “You… aren’t going commando, are you?”

“……”

Lian Jun glanced at him and said lightly, “Shi Jin, you’re silly, but I have to praise the way you think.”

Shi Jin was sheepish.

Lapdog – gǒutuǐ (狗腿) = variant of zǒugǒu (走狗), lit.
“dog leg,” often translated as “running dog.” It means an unprincipled person who helps or flatters other, more powerful and often evil people; in use in this sense since the Qing Dynasty.
(Source 1, Source 2 – more extensive)
“Once the birds are all killed, the bows are cast aside.
Once the rabbits are caught, the hounds are eaten too” [鸟尽弓藏，兔死狗烹] – a Chinese idiom, or rather two idioms, meaning casting aside those who have helped someone to achieve a position of power or success after they’ve served their purpose.
(Source)
To board a pirate ship [上了贼船] – lit.
to mistakenly board a pirate ship; to embark on a hopeless adventure (because the pirates won’t let you go, their end won’t be good, and now you’re one of them).