She couldn’t understand why fate had to bestow such an illness on Shaocheng—is this what they call a montary seizure? It was clearly another onset of the disease!
Gu Shaocheng had already weathered the initial panic, now he seed composed, even comforting Chenxing in return, his hand resting on her back, gently stroking down.
Her heart was beating violently; he understood her fear, even though he was actually more afraid than she was.
Bowing his head, he brushed the stray hairs from her face behind her ear, and tenderly caressed her cheek—his slightly cold fingertips gently gliding over her nose, provoking tears to well up in the girl’s eyes.
He shook his head, his voice dreamy and very soft, "Don’t cry, be good."
Chenxing rubbed the corners of her eyes firmly, then the next second, she supported him, "You sit down, sit down, don’t overexert yourself, I will massage you, Doctor Tian ntioned that massage is good for the muscles."
For a mont, neither of them spoke. Gu Shaocheng nodded slightly, took off his shoes, and sat back on the bed. Chenxing wiped the corners of her eyes again, trying to dispel the discomfort in her heart, not wanting to let her mood affect Shaocheng who appeared serene. She even mustered a faint smile, "Shaocheng, I’ll sing for you, what song would you like to hear?"
"Whatever you love to sing, I love to listen to."
In the tranquil air tinged with romantic sentint, Chenxing wanted to sing sothing lighthearted, but couldn’t think of an appropriate song for the life of her, her heart already flooded with sorrow.
Suddenly, her brows furrowed in frustration.
The caring girl had soft hands, yet not without a hint of strength, giving a massage with just the right amount of pressure.
Gu Shaocheng watched her intently, seeing her deep in thought with furrowed brows, he feigned nonchalance and smiled, "Sing that song you sang for on the school playground before, it was pretty nice."
It brought to mind many wonderful mories.
The girl with her head bowed suddenly looked up, having almost entirely concealed the shock in her heart, now revealing a warm smile, "Okay, it’s called ’Warm Warm,’ sung by Liang Jingru, a singer I really like."
"Hmm, sing that one for ."
He rembered a line from the lyrics he particularly loved—"The tender affection like the heaviness of a blanket, the familiar sense of security from basking in the sun, sharing hot soup, our two fingers around one spoon in a bowl, the left atrium warm and satisfyingly full... no difficulty seems insurmountable..."
When the butler entered with the dicine, the scene in the bedroom was harmonious.
The gentleman sat leisurely on the bed, holding a book, casually flipping through the pages, enjoying Chenxing’s personal massage and the lody of her acapella.
This harmonious scene made him reluctant to intrude, as if his entrance was superfluous.
Indeed, the next second, Gu Shaocheng glanced up slightly, saw the butler, eyes dark and deep as the sea at night, a gesture from his hand, and the butler silently nodded, withdrew, and even considerately closed the door behind him.
...........................
Two hours went by, the butler glanced at the ti, and again pushed the door open to enter.
Gu Shaocheng had yet to take the dication prescribed by Doctor He.
After a second knock on the door, there was no answer from inside, so he slowly opened the door, and the scene in the bedroom remained a world exclusive to the two of them, not allowing any disturbance.
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