Xia Xiaonuan nodded vigorously, wiped away her tears, and trembled as she said, "Thank you... Thank you..."
The young nurse patted her head, handed her a tissue, and turned to leave.
Staring at the door of the operating room, Xia Xiaonuan’s sorrow instantly turned to joy. She wiped her tears hard with the tissue, though they kept flowing. She didn’t know whether she was happy or sad.
She paced back and forth outside the operating room, smiling through her tears. Like a child, she was a bit at a loss for what to do.
Nan Mo, you’re alright... You’re alright now, that’s wonderful... It’s truly wonderful!
As long as you’re alright, I’ll do anything... As long as you’re alright, I’ll be fine no matter what...
****
Outside the special care ward.
Xia Xiaonuan, dressed in blue scrubs, pushed the door open.
This was an intensive care unit. The doctor said that although the patient was temporarily out of danger and the intracranial bleeding had been cleared, observation was still needed for so ti.
Beside her were several cold machines. His bed was by the window. He lay in bed wearing a hospital gown, with bandages wrapped around his head.
The sound of machines beeping "beep-beep" mixed with the "hiss-hiss" of the purifier and humidifier filling the air.
She felt as if a string was pulling her forward, guiding her steps slowly towards him.
His face was pale and thin, his lips drained of color.
Looking at him now, she suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity.
The Nan Mo in her mory wasn’t like this. Whenever she was sick in bed with a cold or a fever, Nan Mo would stay by her side, taking care of her, bringing her tea, and telling her jokes.
She always thought Nan Mo was like a superhero. Whenever she needed him, he would be there by her side.
She never imagined that one day he would also fall, lying in bed like this, needing her to visit him.
But ti has passed, and neither she nor he were those carefree kids anymore. They had grown up, and ti had changed their appearances, as well as so many other things.
She sat by the bed, quietly watching him, her gaze sweeping over his cheeks, his eyebrows, his eyes, his nose, and even his lips and chin with a hint of greed.
At this mont, she could finally look at him without restraint.
Since eting again, they had drifted from strangers to friends, then close confidants, and finally to enemies.
All because of Qiqi, because of Qiqi, the one he couldn’t forget, day and night.
She reached out her hand, placing it on his furrowed brow. Even in a coma, he still looked unhappy. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but she could vaguely guess.
Nangong Yaoling had left. She received a call from Zhong Li, thinking he had co to the hospital. Now it seed that Nangong Yaoling didn’t know about Shaochen’s accident.
That being the case, Nangong Yaoling was likely off to find Jiang Xue.
Jiang Xue finally made her move. She hurt Nan Mo viciously, then turned to embrace another, exacting her revenge on him thoroughly.
Xia Xiaonuan reached out and held Liang Shaochen’s hand.
His palm was warm. With her fingertips, she traced patterns in his palm playfully, just like when she was little. She loved drawing in his palm.
Sotis she would draw a smiley face with a pen, stubbornly making him promise not to wash it off; other tis, she would draw a watch on his wrist, and sotis stars on his fingertips.
Nan Mo, unwilling to let his delicate, pretty hands be used as a canvas, would also take a pen and draw on her.
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