Chapter 13: Blending with Light and Dust

Suppressing the urge to pull away from Shen Chaoyi’s touch, Yi Qingzhuo stiffened the moment Shen Chaoyi’s hand rested on the gauze over her chest.

Even through a layer of fabric, Yi Qingzhuo could somehow feel the warmth of Shen Chaoyi’s fingertips seeping straight into her heart. A violent tremor ran through her. She lifted her gaze and, without warning, collided with those bright, crystalline eyes.

She froze for two seconds. It was probably Shen Chaoyi’s white coat that snapped her back to reality.

She turned her head away stiffly, refusing to meet Shen Chaoyi’s eyes.

And in her mind, she kept telling herself:

Shen Chaoyi is a doctor. This is just normal contact between a doctor and a patient.

But her heart felt as if a piece had gone missing, leaving her unsettled.

Suddenly, a layer of warmth covered her clenched fist.

“Why are you squeezing so tight? Look, you’re causing a backflow.” Shen Chaoyi tried to pry open Yi Qingzhuo’s clenched hand, but Yi Qingzhuo was gripping too hard—the veins on the back of her hand stood out. Shen Chaoyi couldn’t budge it at all.

She let out a soft sigh, then smiled. “When the anesthesia wore off, you didn’t even flinch from the pain. What’s going on now? Are you scared?”

The words hit like a switch. Yi Qingzhuo loosened her grip, her dark eyes fixed on Shen Chaoyi without blinking. “You’re overthinking it. I’m not a three-year-old.”

Scared? She didn’t have that emotion. She shouldn’t have that emotion.

Shen Chaoyi leaned her left hand on the edge of the bed, cleared her throat lightly, and let out a low, quiet laugh—so faint that the others behind her didn’t notice.

But Yi Qingzhuo, who was close enough to reach out and touch her cheek, caught it.

“What are you laughing at?” Yi Qingzhuo’s voice was crisp.

Shen Chaoyi was laughing at her. Even as oblivious as Yi Qingzhuo was, she could feel it.

What was she laughing at?

Yi Qingzhuo had never been curious about anything, never cared about anyone’s emotions except her mother’s.

But this person, Shen Chaoyi…

Laughing at her—she wanted to know why.

“Laughing is just laughing. Does it have to be at something? We doctors and nurses almost always have smiles on our faces. It’s the fastest way to build rapport with patients.” Shen Chaoyi’s voice was soft. She withdrew her gaze from Yi Qingzhuo’s face and began inspecting the wound seriously.

Yi Qingzhuo’s physique was indeed excellent; judging by the condition, recovery was going well.

But the injury was too severe. She wouldn’t be discharged without at least ten days to half a month in the hospital.

Yi Qingzhuo turned her head slightly, black hair falling across her brow. Compared to the bleakness outside the window, she seemed even more faded, more withered.

She pressed her lips together and stared out the window with a complicated look.

The light outside was harsh, but Yi Qingzhuo didn’t blink.

“You don’t need to build rapport with me.”

Her voice was so faint that Shen Chaoyi, who was listening intently for her heartbeat, didn’t catch it. “Any other sensations? When you talk normally, does your jaw make any sound?”

“No. No sensation.” Yi Qingzhuo was sparing with words.

Shen Chaoyi took off her stethoscope. She wasn’t sure if having a patient who answered like a machine—concise and efficient—was a good thing or a bad thing. “Right now, it looks like you’re on the road to recovery. But in the short term, don’t get out of bed or do any strenuous activity. Bed rest. Take your medicine on time and rest plenty.”

Straightening up, Shen Chaoyi turned to Yi Changhuan. “Auntie, she’ll need to watch her diet for a while—light foods only. A nurse will come by to explain how to care for her wound. She absolutely must not get out of bed. Just lie down and rest. If anything happens, contact me or the nurse assigned to her bed directly.”

Yi Changhuan tucked the blanket around Yi Qingzhuo and replied in a flurry, “Yes, yes, we’ll follow Doctor Shen’s instructions. Thank you for your trouble.”

“It’s my duty.” Shen Chaoyi glanced at Yi Qingzhuo.

Then she took the ward round record from Chen Ya, wrote a line on it, and closed the chart.

She nodded to Yi Changhuan. “I’ll continue my rounds now, Auntie.”

“Yes, yes, Doctor Shen, go ahead.”

This ward was a triple room, but for now, it only housed Yi Qingzhuo.

So after checking on her, Shen Chaoyi turned and led the group out.

As the door clicked shut, Yi Changhuan, who had been standing at the foot of the bed, moved to the chair beside it and sat down.

Her calloused hands wrapped around Yi Qingzhuo’s. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay now. Just focus on recovering. I’ve got Little Li watching the internet cafe.”

“The surgery cost…” Yi Qingzhuo knew their family’s finances well.

When she opened the internet cafe, Yi Changhuan had contributed some money. She probably didn’t have much left.

The cost of this surgery, plus the ICU stay, had to be six figures.

Yi Changhuan didn’t have that kind of money.

“Don’t worry about the money. Getting well is the top priority. Don’t let anything else bother you.” Yi Changhuan paused, a complex flicker passing through her eyes.

Yi Qingzhuo frowned, thought for two seconds, and her face darkened. “Where did the money come from?”

She knew her mother—she wouldn’t touch the internet cafe, which was their family’s livelihood and the closest thing to a “job” Yi Qingzhuo had.

And there was nothing else valuable at home to sell. The only possibility…

“You sold the house?” Yi Qingzhuo effortlessly guessed what her mother had been hesitating to say.

She moved her neck, trying to sit up, but her whole body was too weak.

She could only look at Yi Changhuan, watching the tears pool in her mother’s eyes again.

Yi Changhuan pressed Yi Qingzhuo down, her voice choked. “I sold it. But it was your father’s… that man’s house.”

That man—Yi Qingzhuo’s father.

Back then, he had been a drunk and a wife-beater. But because he was the only man in the family, Yi Qingzhuo’s grandmother had used her life’s savings to buy him a house before she died, putting it in his name.

Later, he died.

As his spouse, Yi Changhuan naturally became the first heir.

Yi Qingzhuo’s father’s parents were both gone, leaving only his two sisters.

And it was because of that house that his two sisters, under the pretense of seeking justice for the family, had been harassing Yi Qingzhuo and her mother, their real goal being the property.

Now, Yi Changhuan had sold it. Sold it to pay for the injuries from their beating.

A truly ironic outcome.

“It sold for over eight hundred thousand.” Yi Changhuan spoke again.

The house had originally cost just over a hundred thousand. But with urban development, its value had appreciated to nearly a million.

A considerable sum—enough to make any ordinary family green with envy.

“Mom.” Yi Qingzhuo turned her hand over and gripped Yi Changhuan’s. “I’m sorry.”

Once, even being near that house had made Yi Changhuan physically ill. She hadn’t looked at it once in the past decade.

Just holding the deed made her feel disgusted.

She didn’t want to revisit those memories, yet she’d stubbornly held onto the house, only because it was what Yi Qingzhuo deserved.

Financial compensation couldn’t console Yi Qingzhuo, couldn’t make up for anything.

But it ensured a backup plan in an emergency, a way for Yi Qingzhuo to live a little better even after Yi Changhuan was gone. That was enough.

“It’s what you deserve. Why are you apologizing? I was planning to wait until you’d been back for a while, then hand it over to you when the time was right—let you buy something you liked. But now… after you’re discharged, I’ll give you the money. The more your aunts want it, the more you should spend it without guilt.”

“This time, we have to sue them.”

Yi Changhuan’s face was set with determination, the wrinkles deepening.

“You keep it. Don’t give it to me. I used so much of your money for the internet cafe. Keep it for yourself—it’ll give you a stronger backbone.” Yi Qingzhuo lowered her lashes, her thoughts elsewhere.

Yi Changhuan sensed her distraction, gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and wisely steered away from the heavy topic.

She exhaled and shifted her tone. “Oh, by the way, that Doctor Shen—she’s a good doctor, and your lifesaver. Don’t be so cold to her in the future. It’s embarrassing for her in front of so many people, and it breaks her heart.”

“When you were still in the ICU, not out of danger yet, Doctor Shen had already worked a full shift. But she still came by after work to keep me company and watch over you, worried there might be an emergency.”

Yi Changhuan finished speaking, glanced back at the closed door, lowered her voice, and leaned closer to Yi Qingzhuo. “I heard that when she was resuscitating you, she was so anxious to save you that she made a mistake in the procedure and got chewed out by her boss. What a good doctor. And she’s so gentle and polite. Every time we meet, before I even get a word out, she’s already calling me ‘Auntie’ with a smile. No airs at all. I don’t even know how to thank her. I know it’s her job, but she really went above and beyond.”

Yi Qingzhuo listened quietly, remembering the words Shen Chaoyi had said in the ICU: “Yi Qingzhuo, live well.”

When she said that, she was one with the light and dust, her eyes bright and spirited.

In that moment, she descended like a deity, warm as the sun.