Chapter 51: Doctor Shen’s Confession

After saying that, Shen Chaoyi grabbed her hand just as she was about to shove it back into her pocket.

She turned it over, studying the vivid red mark against the pale skin of her fingers, and frowned.

“Doctor Shen, at your age, people really should be calling you ‘Aunt,'” Yi Qingzhuo said, letting her hold her hand as she watched her.

She’d just been standing behind Shen Chaoyi when she heard her refer to herself as “aunt.”

With a face like hers, being called “sister” wouldn’t be out of line.

But she knew her place. She didn’t seem bothered by being called an aunt.

Shen Chaoyi bit her lip lightly. “But you calling me ‘aunt’ doesn’t quite feel right, does it? After all, we’re supposed to be the same generation. You should be calling me ‘sister.'”

The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she got, and she let go of Yi Qingzhuo’s hand with a bit more force than necessary.

The discarded hand was pulled back awkwardly. “I was just mimicking you.”

“Fancy having time today to mimic me.” Shen Chaoyi raised an eyebrow.

Her gaze shifted to Yi Qingzhuo, and only then did she realize she wasn’t wearing her hospital gown.

She had on a pair of black trousers and a light blue button-up shirt, neatly tucked in.

The slim black belt around her waist made her legs look straight and long.

“Where are you going? Changed clothes and showed up in the outpatient hall. You planning to leave? But I didn’t receive your leave request.” Shen Chaoyi squinted her beautiful eyes and walked slowly toward Yi Qingzhuo. “You’re not going to sneak out, are you?”

Had she finally gotten bored of the hospital and couldn’t hold it in anymore, itching to run outside?

But she’d only signed a leave slip for her yesterday. There was no way she’d sign another today.

Without the attending physician’s permission, a patient couldn’t leave the hospital during inpatient treatment.

As Shen Chaoyi got closer, Yi Qingzhuo, who seemed to have been caught, involuntarily started backing away.

After two steps, Yi Qingzhuo raised a hand and pressed it against the wall to steady herself. “I’m not. I was just going downstairs to grab something to eat.”

“Something to eat? Dressed this formally?” Shen Chaoyi thought for a second. “I recall telling you that during your hospital stay, you’re not allowed to leave without permission.”

“Yi Qingzhuo, not listening to your big sister, are you?” Shen Chaoyi’s voice rose at the end, deliberately teasing her.

She remembered well—Yi Qingzhuo had mimicked her and called her “aunt.”

Yi Qingzhuo lowered her eyes and finally let out a silent breath.

The warm air passed through Shen Chaoyi’s neck, like a spark setting the prairie ablaze, igniting the skin below her ears.

A flash of tenderness flickered in Shen Chaoyi’s eyes. She took another step forward, cutting the distance between them to less than half a meter.

Her voice softened. “And you’re wearing so little. There’s air conditioning in the hospital, but not outside.”

“I’m going back.” Caught in the act, Yi Qingzhuo could only abandon her plan to go out.

“Wait.” Shen Chaoyi called out to her.

She pulled a book from her bag. “No need to pull from the blind box today. I brought you a book. I read it and thought it was pretty good, so I wanted to share it with you.”

The cover was rainbow-themed, featuring two women in long dresses holding what seemed to be roses, dancing gracefully.

Only on closer inspection could one make out the artistic English title.

The Lily on Her Lips

Yi Qingzhuo reached out and took the thin book, her expression complex. “Thank you.”

“Consider it a reward for being good and going back.” Shen Chaoyi’s voice was gentle.

Her eyes, when she looked at Yi Qingzhuo, hid a subtle shyness.

“I’ll head back then.” Book in hand, Yi Qingzhuo no longer felt like going out.

Shen Chaoyi watched her hurried retreat.

Her movements were unrestricted.

She should be able to be discharged soon.

……

Yi Qingzhuo clutched the book all the way back to the ward.

Pushing the door open, Yi Changhuan and Xia Qinyu weren’t there.

Knowing that Yi Qingzhuo would step out, Yi Changhuan had taken Xia Qinyu, who insisted on staying, back to pack their luggage and freshen up.

Yi Qingzhuo pressed her back against the door, taking deep breaths several times.

Her focus was entirely on the book—even the dull pain in her hand seemed to vanish.

She’d been trying to control her heartbeat the whole way, but the faster her steps, the more real the flutter in her chest became.

Her back stiff, Yi Qingzhuo moved slowly, carefully opening the book to its title page.

The entire book was in English. She took it and sat by the window.

There weren’t many difficult words. She read slowly, and when she got to the middle section—

On what had been a pristine, ink-free page, at the blank space of page forty-seven, there was a line written in black fountain pen.

The lily on the windowsill has bloomed. It’s beautiful.

Yi Qingzhuo stopped, staring at the line in shock.

The handwriting was neat and refreshing, the strokes clean. It looked just like something Shen Chaoyi would write.

Caught off guard, Yi Qingzhuo gazed at the words, her eyes flickering. The emotions she’d been holding back surged forth.

The lily on the windowsill has bloomed. It’s beautiful.

Like you. I like it very much.

Was it what she thought?

Yi Qingzhuo raised a hand, her thoughts swirling. She brushed her thumb over the ink, trying to gauge Shen Chaoyi’s mood when she wrote it.

What did Shen Chaoyi mean?

Her fingertip traced the end of the strokes—not hard, not soft—and when she lifted her finger, a thin layer of ink stained it.

The line felt like an open-ended question with many possibilities, but Yi Qingzhuo had already settled on one answer.

The answer she subconsciously trusted most.

Yet the inferiority that lurked beneath her distant demeanor made her afraid to believe it.

Shen Chaoyi was so dazzling that people looked up to her. The distance between them felt insurmountable. They were from completely different worlds.

The one her heart yearned for might be someone with no future, whose past was shrouded in darkness.

Shen Chaoyi was too wonderful. Yi Qingzhuo felt as though her presence in Shen Chaoyi’s world was like a drop of black ink staining a clean sheet of white paper.

A stain that couldn’t be wiped clean, an awkward blot that couldn’t be shown.

She couldn’t turn another page. She slammed the book shut.

Her mind was in unprecedented turmoil, and before she could sort through her thoughts—

The ward door was pushed open from outside. Without thinking, Yi Qingzhuo hid the book behind her back.

Yi Changhuan and Xia Qinyu entered, surprised to see her still there when she’d said she was going out.

Xia Qinyu set down the empty suitcase. “Back already?”

“I didn’t go.” Yi Qingzhuo quickly masked her unease, stepping down from the windowsill, keeping the book behind her back.

“Huh? Why not?” Xia Qinyu tilted her head. “What are you hiding? You look guilty. That’s not like you—you’re usually so straightforward.”

Yi Qingzhuo took a step back, quickly shoved the book into the drawer, then blocked the drawer with her body. “Nothing.”

“Hiding it? It’s just a book, isn’t it? I saw it.” Once Xia Qinyu realized it was a book, she lost interest.

She plopped down onto a chair and eagerly opened the insulated cup Yi Changhuan had brought back.

Seeing it was full of apple juice—she was just thirsty—she said, “Aunt, Big Sis definitely wouldn’t like this sweet stuff, so I’ll do her a favor and take care of it.”

“Alright, you little glutton. I’ve also got some steamed bass here. Want some?” Yi Changhuan opened her canvas bag, full of food she’d brought for Yi Qingzhuo.

She pulled a book from the very bottom—the one she’d brought for her today.

Xia Qinyu nodded happily and was about to down the drink in one go.

Suddenly, a hand reached over, snatched the cup back swiftly, while another hand grabbed her chin.

Xia Qinyu winced and glared at the culprit, Yi Qingzhuo.

“What’s your problem?”

With her chin held, her words came out garbled.

Yi Qingzhuo recapped the cup calmly. “Go eat your fish.”

Xia Qinyu’s mouth was contorted. She slapped Yi Qingzhuo’s hand away.

“What are you, a kid? Fighting me over a drink. You don’t even like it, but you won’t share it. How annoying.”

She turned to Yi Changhuan to tattle. “Aunt, look! Big Sis is bullying me again.”

Yi Changhuan gave a helpless smile and opened another cup of lychee juice. “Here, don’t fight with her. She won’t even let me touch that cup. Qinyu, have this one.”

“But I want the apple juice!” Xia Qinyu’s temper flared, and she tried to grab the cup from Yi Qingzhuo.

But Yi Qingzhuo dodged, evading her reach.

Then she found a mug, poured the apple juice into it, and handed it to Xia Qinyu. “Here you go.”

She never fought with her younger sister over anything she could give up.

Xia Qinyu stared at the mug of apple juice shoved into her hands, stunned.

What was that about?

She glanced at the insulated cup Yi Qingzhuo still held. It was just an ordinary one—green on the bottom, white on top—the kind you could buy at any supermarket.

Taking a sip of the apple juice, Xia Qinyu couldn’t figure her out at all. “Why, though? Isn’t that just extra trouble?”

Yi Qingzhuo held the cup, expressionless, saying nothing.

She hadn’t told anyone: this was the same cup she’d used to bring chicken soup to Shen Chaoyi before.

Shen Chaoyi had washed it and returned it, and after that, Yi Qingzhuo wouldn’t let anyone else touch it.