Chapter 12: Sick
When Mu Mu turned around, his eyes met Fu Heqing’s.
The painter in front of him still wore that calm, composed expression, holding the umbrella at a slant. Even though he knew Mu Mu couldn’t get wet in the rain, he still made sure to completely include him under the umbrella.
“Mr. Painter!”
Mu Mu was overjoyed. His eyes sparkled as he quickly stood up, wanting to give Fu Heqing a big hug.
But he still couldn’t touch anything, only able to vaguely wrap his arms around him.
“Mr. Painter hasn’t left the villa for four years, right? Now that you’re out… is something wrong?” Mu Mu immediately asked, worried.
Fu Heqing didn’t answer. He just lowered his gaze, staring at Mu Mu’s face. His voice carried an inexplicable sharpness, with a barely perceptible quiver: “What happened?”
Mu Mu shrank his neck, paused for two seconds, and after carefully thinking, found it strange. “What do you mean, what happened?”
Fu Heqing reached out his hand, as if wanting to touch Mu Mu, his voice very soft—soft enough that it seemed he didn’t want to admit it. “Faded.”
“Faded?” Mu Mu looked down, holding out his hand to examine himself, and his eyes widened instantly.
“Ah! Oh my God! How did I become even more transparent?!” His expression was full of panic; this was obviously the first time he had ever experienced something like this.
Fu Heqing’s expression immediately darkened. He took the skeleton toy from his coat pocket and said to Mu Mu, “Come in. We’ll talk later.”
Mu Mu didn’t fully understand what “faded” meant, but seeing the look on Fu Heqing’s face, a guilty feeling of having messed up arose in him. He obediently floated into the small skeleton’s body.
Stretching out in the small skeleton, Mu Mu sat on Fu Heqing’s hand, watching the painter bend down to pick up the canvas from the ground. He obediently reached out to receive the rolled-up canvas and held it, while Fu Heqing cradled the small skeleton and walked toward the villa.
The forest outside the villa was vast. Mu Mu had noticed as he floated over—Fu Heqing’s villa nearly occupied the entire hilltop.
At this time, it was still raining in the forest, and the path was difficult. It took the two of them twice as long to return to the villa as it had on the way there.
Once they were back in the warm, temperature-controlled villa, the many gemstone decorations on the small skeleton immediately became covered with a layer of mist.
Mu Mu didn’t have a sense of hot or cold, but he could now belatedly compare and realize that it really was very cold outside.
“Mr. Painter, is it very cold out there?” Mu Mu asked worriedly.
“Not really.”
After Fu Heqing returned, the villa’s smart system activated. He took the small skeleton upstairs, placed Mu Mu on the sofa in the room, handed him a towel, and then went to change his half-wet coat nearby.
“Tell me, what happened?”
Mu Mu politely took the towel, dried himself off, and then draped it over his head to block his view and prevent his eyes from wandering around while Fu Heqing changed.
“I think I touched something!”
Mu Mu recalled for a moment and said excitedly, “It was a soul body!”
“At that moment, I was in a hurry to grab the canvas, and I felt my fingertips getting warm. I think I touched the canvas—it felt cool, not very soft, and not very smooth.”
“But it seemed to last only for a second. I’m not sure if I really touched it.”
“Then I felt extremely tired, too tired to float. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like that.”
Mu Mu’s voice was full of curiosity, but Fu Heqing could clearly tell that it no longer carried the same energetic tone as before.
“How do you recover?”
“I’m not sure either.”
Mu Mu shook his head. The next moment, he felt the towel on his head being pulled away. When he looked up, his eyes met Fu Heqing’s.
The painter guessed, “Maybe it got consumed.”
“Take care when using this body. Don’t float around recklessly.”
Mu Mu quickly nodded.
From then on, Mu Mu was extremely cautious in everything he did. What he didn’t expect, however, was that the painter would be the one to run into trouble the next day.
That night, Mu Mu felt utterly exhausted. Once he closed his eyes, he lost consciousness, instinctively learning how to sleep and rest.
When he opened his eyes again, a sudden loud noise and the spinning of the room threw him off—the small skeleton that had been lying on Fu Heqing’s blanket was abruptly flipped onto the floor.
“Mr. Painter?”
Mu Mu sat on the floor, momentarily stunned. He hadn’t yet fully absorbed the good news that he could now rest. When he looked toward the painter, whose behavior seemed abnormal, he realized something was seriously wrong.
He quickly stood and looked at Fu Heqing sitting at the edge of the bed.
Fu Heqing seemed to have heard the sound as well. He turned his head in Mu Mu’s direction. Though he “looked” at him, his eyes appeared empty and lifeless.
“Sorry, I accidentally knocked you off,” Fu Heqing said slowly.
“Mr. Painter, what’s wrong?” Mu Mu cautiously approached, climbing onto Fu Heqing’s lap and waving his tiny skeletal hand in front of him.
“Mr. Painter… can’t see?”
Compared to Mu Mu’s careful worry, Fu Heqing remained remarkably calm, even reassuring him: “An old issue. Doesn’t affect anything.”
With that, Fu Heqing got up and went to the bathroom.
Mu Mu didn’t fully understand human illnesses, but he could tell that suddenly losing sight was a serious matter. Watching from the side, he was both anxious and fearful, too nervous to speak, afraid of startling Fu Heqing or distracting him.
Yet Fu Heqing moved perfectly around every obstacle, grabbing towels and other items with effortless precision—never missing, never fumbling.
Seeing this, Mu Mu almost doubted himself. If Fu Heqing hadn’t admitted it was an “old issue,” he might have thought he had misjudged the situation entirely.
Fu Heqing finished washing up under Mu Mu’s watchful eyes and then left the bathroom.
As Fu Heqing left the bathroom, he was finally a little different from usual. His pace had slowed, each step measured and careful, making sure he wouldn’t slip.
Mu Mu understood immediately.
The painter could remember exactly where everything was placed, but he couldn’t predict where the splashes of water from washing up might land.
“Walk slowly… there’s still a little water ahead,” Mu Mu whispered.
Once Fu Heqing safely made it out of the bathroom, he had to head to the kitchen to make his breakfast.
Mu Mu felt like his nonexistent heart was about to leap out of his chest.
The kitchen!
It was an even scarier place than the bathroom, with both water and fire.
When Fu Heqing stepped out of the elevator and into the kitchen on the first floor, Mu Mu quickly spoke up: “How about you just direct me from the doorway?”
“I’ve seen you do this so many times, you definitely know how!” Mu Mu declared confidently. “Humans always say, ‘You may not have eaten pork, but you’ve seen a pig run, right?’”
Fu Heqing hesitated for a long moment, but after Mu Mu’s repeated assurances and encouragement, he reluctantly agreed to a shared effort.
The villa’s kitchen was semi-open, and fortunately, breakfast wasn’t too difficult to handle. Fu Heqing opened the fridge and first took out some ground coffee. After a moment of thought, he put it back.
“What’s that?” Mu Mu asked.
“Coffee grounds. Hand-brewing coffee might be a bit tricky for you,” Fu Heqing said, replacing it with slices of bread.
“Just toast two slices. Remember, don’t touch the gas, and stay away from open flames.”
The painter repeated his warning.
“Got it, got it!” Mu Mu replied repeatedly. Then, proudly lifting the bread, he marched toward the kitchen, ready to conquer it.
This was Mu Mu’s first time cooking. After opening the bag of bread, he first wrapped his entire skeleton in a disposable plastic bag to serve as an apron, protecting the food. Then he lifted the bread and threw it into the automatic toaster.
“Next, press the switch.”
Mu Mu followed Fu Heqing’s previous steps, pressing the switch on the side. When the light on the toaster lit up, Mu Mu felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
He climbed onto the toaster to watch the bread being toasted for a while, then moved on to the spice rack.
To Mu Mu, the painter’s spice rack was like a human supermarket shelf. Some had three layers, some only two. Some were cylindrical and rotated, others were arranged in small square boxes with individual compartments.
“Honey…”
“Butter… seems like there’s no butter. If it has to be made fresh, then there’s no way.”
Mu Mu had also secretly brought his “cheat tool”—his phone. Whenever he encountered something unfamiliar, he quickly searched online, determined to make a delicious breakfast for the painter.
If he had a bit of culinary talent, he thought, maybe he could even make a cake later as a gift for Fu Heqing!
“And apple jam!”
Mu Mu picked through the jars as if he were wandering around a supermarket where he didn’t need to pay.
“Ding!”
With a light ding, Mu Mu quickly took the bread out of the toaster and placed it on a white jade plate. Then, he opened the jars of honey and jam, spreading the sauces evenly across both slices of bread.
“Then just put them together.”
“Yay! All done! That was so simple!” Mu Mu exclaimed, then immediately carried the plate over to Fu Heqing.
Fu Heqing was sitting at the bar counter on the side of the kitchen—the closest spot for the small skeleton—so Mu Mu didn’t have to climb up and down to deliver the breakfast.
“Try it!”
“Guess what spreads are on the bread~”
“Spreads too?” Fu Heqing sounded a little surprised. He didn’t ask too many questions or doubt it, simply said thank you, and took a bite directly.
The slices of bread had cooled, the inside likely filled with jam—sweet and tangy—completely covering the bread with not a single gap. It was clear that the “chef” had taken the task seriously, meticulous and precise in every step.
The taste was quite good—just a bit slow to prepare.
Fu Heqing finished the last bite just as the large clock in the living room struck nine. What had started as breakfast at 7:30 had stretched nearly to nine o’clock.
“How is it? Is it good?” Mu Mu asked eagerly.
“Delicious.” Fu Heqing reached out, intending to touch Mu Mu, but paused midair, hesitating slightly. Mu Mu didn’t wait—he nuzzled forward on his own.
Fu Heqing felt the small skeleton’s touch: cool and firm. He laughed and patted Mu Mu’s head.
“Honey and apple jam,” he added, answering the first question Mu Mu had asked him long ago.
Mu Mu was thrilled that the painter remembered. “You guessed right!”
“Reward: Mr. Painter doesn’t have to work today!” Mu Mu said, and then, following the moment, asked the question that had been on his mind for a long time.
“Mr. Painter, can you now explain what’s going on?” Mu Mu sat on the bar counter, looking at Fu Heqing with concern.
Fu Heqing hadn’t expected the small skeleton to still be thinking about it. He explained, “A little shock… that’s what happens.”
“When will it get better?”
“Could be a day, could be a month. There’s no fixed time.”
Mu Mu tried to understand, hugging his phone and frantically searching for tips on caring for patients.
“So… Mr. Painter, you don’t need to work for now? Should you go rest?” Mu Mu asked, reading from the screen like a textbook.
“Rest?”
“Yes, yes… then I’ll pour you some hot water, and add a bit more blanket…”
Before Mu Mu could finish speaking, the “cheat” tool in his hand was snatched away.
“Rest is fine, but I don’t need the hot water or extra blanket,” Fu Heqing said, carrying the small skeleton toy. He skillfully maneuvered around the furniture in the living room and reached the elevator.
Mu Mu sat on Fu Heqing’s hand, looking up at him. Even though he couldn’t see anything, he remained calm, composed, and completely in control—without a hint of fluster or hesitation. Mu Mu suddenly felt that the painter was truly remarkable.
It was as if he had experienced everything, as if nothing could ever stop him.
Instead of returning to the bedroom, Fu Heqing went to the sunroom.
Although the weather was a bit cool today, around nine o’clock the sun was out, a rare treat. Sitting in that sunlight, Mu Mu inexplicably felt a bit drowsy.
Determined to watch over Fu Heqing, Mu Mu forced himself to stay alert. But by around ten-thirty, he began to feel the same exhaustion he had felt yesterday in the forest.
He glanced at Fu Heqing, who had a Braille novel prepared beside him, and suddenly felt as if the whole house was filled with the elderly, weak, or infirm.
This wouldn’t do.
Mu Mu stood up, grabbed the phone Fu Heqing had left nearby, and opened the chat with Five Cats.
[Kitty, Mr. Painter is sick, and I feel like I don’t have any energy left either. What should I do?]
Five Cats replied quickly.
[What?! Brother Fu is sick?! What happened?!]
[He said he was shocked and can’t see…]
[!!!!]
A flood of exclamation marks immediately appeared on the screen.
[Don’t panic! Wait for us!]
After sending this message, Five Cats went offline.
“Why go offline before answering my question?” Mu Mu wondered. He switched to another online friend to ask for help.
Just as Mu Mu was carefully jotting down the advice from his online friend, a rapid ringing came from the front door. Before the first chime had finished, another immediately followed.
“What’s going on?!”
Startled, Mu Mu felt Fu Heqing pick him up.
“…A friend, I suppose.”
Mu Mu immediately perked up. “A friend of Mr. Painter is visiting?”
Fu Heqing paused for a moment, then simply instructed, “Don’t make a sound later.”
Mu Mu immediately made an “OK” gesture—but unfortunately, Fu Heqing didn’t notice.
