Chapter 53: She Naturally Knew How to Soothe Her

Luckily, Xia Qinyu never let a question hang in the air. She smiled cheerfully. “We haven’t eaten yet either, but Aunt brought something. We’ll head back in a bit and eat.”

“Mm, well then you two go eat. It’s almost one o’clock.” Shen Chaoyi glanced at her watch. “Oh, right. Yi Qingzhuo, hold on a second.”

Yi Qingzhuo hadn’t moved in the first place. When she heard her name, she looked up.

Their gazes met across the distance, and in Shen Chaoyi’s eyes was carved a deep, lingering attachment.

Shen Chaoyi—just standing there was enough to melt Yi Qingzhuo’s heart.

A flicker of subtle emotion passed through her eyes. “Mm.”

Shen Chaoyi turned and said to the nurse station, “Give me the medical record for Bed 14.”

Once she had Yi Qingzhuo’s file in hand, Shen Chaoyi said, “Your condition has stabilized now. Walking around isn’t a problem. Yesterday… I took a look at your wound. It’s healing nicely. So you can be discharged first. Rest up at home—no strenuous exercise.”

Staying here every day cost money, but on top of that, Yi Qingzhuo was getting restless.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have caught Yi Qingzhuo trying to sneak out this morning.

Though reluctant to part, Shen Chaoyi’s priority was still doing her job as a doctor.

When “yesterday” came up, Yi Qingzhuo recalled the image of Shen Chaoyi’s fingertips deliberately pressing against her ab line.

Her dark pupils glimmered with a faint light. Yi Qingzhuo tucked one hand into her pocket and cleared her throat to cover her awkwardness. “Got it. I’ll come handle the discharge procedures in a bit.”

Shen Chaoyi’s face flushed as well. She closed the medical record folder.

Swallowing, she said, “Can I have a word with you?”

Xia Qinyu, standing between them, darted her gaze back and forth. A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes.

But when she heard Yi Qingzhuo could be discharged, her face lit up. “You can be discharged? That’s great!”

However, she soon realized that once discharged, she wouldn’t get to see Shen Chaoyi anymore. A little regret crept in. “I was hoping I could see the beautiful sister a few more times.”

Yi Qingzhuo felt exactly the same way.

But she didn’t show it. She turned her head slightly and said to Xia Qinyu, “What beautiful sister? Go watch TV when you get home.”

Xia Qinyu, having been put in her place, squinted but couldn’t think of a retort.

Finally, she just said, “Then you two chat. I’ll head back to the ward and tell Aunt to start packing.”

“This isn’t a good place to talk. Let’s go over there.” Shen Chaoyi pointed toward the window at the end of the corridor.

“Haven’t you eaten yet? I’ll go with you to the cafeteria.” Yi Qingzhuo knew at a glance that she’d been busy all morning. If she didn’t eat now, she’d probably get called away by another phone call at any moment and end up skipping another meal.

“Oh? You heard that, huh.” Shen Chaoyi raised an eyebrow. She’d thought Yi Qingzhuo was far enough away that she hadn’t caught her conversation with Xia Qinyu.

Yi Qingzhuo shrugged. “My hearing’s pretty good.”

“Then let’s go to the hospital cafeteria. I still have outpatient duty in the afternoon, so I can’t go too far.” Shen Chaoyi smiled.

Of course Yi Qingzhuo had no objection. She followed behind Shen Chaoyi.

At a leisurely pace, she watched Shen Chaoyi’s gentle profile. For the first time, she actually felt reluctant to leave this hospital.

Not because she was attached to the hospital itself—but because of the person in it.

She was absorbed in watching when Shen Chaoyi suddenly turned back. “Oh, right. Your hand—let me see it.”

Caught staring, Yi Qingzhuo hadn’t had time to hide the emotion in her eyes, and Shen Chaoyi took it all in at once.

Yi Qingzhuo held out her hand. “I’m tough. A bump like that only leaves a mark temporarily. It’ll fade fast.”

Shen Chaoyi naturally took Yi Qingzhuo’s wrist and examined it carefully. Sure enough, the reddish mark had already disappeared.

Her fair hand was clean, with faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.

“Mm, you really are tough.” Shen Chaoyi didn’t let go. “Roll up your sleeve. Let me check the old knife wound.”

Pulled along by her, Yi Qingzhuo glanced at the busy corridor.

Finally, she changed direction and let Shen Chaoyi lead her into the nearby stairwell.

Stopping, she obediently rolled up her sleeve.

The scar from the knife wound on her forearm was still very visible, with stitch marks crisscrossing her pale arm.

Anyone who saw it would frown—some out of fear, some out of shock.

But in Shen Chaoyi’s eyes, there was nothing but pure, unending tenderness.

Before Shen Chaoyi could speak, Yi Qingzhuo volunteered, “I’ll buy some scar cream and take good care of it.”

“Why the sudden concern? You didn’t care before, did you?” Shen Chaoyi lowered her head to closely examine the longest scar.

That one had been stitched by Shen Chaoyi herself in the emergency room. Though it was the deepest and longest, thanks to proper care during hospitalization, it looked far less intimidating than the others.

Yi Qingzhuo watched Shen Chaoyi silently. From this angle, she could see the luminous charm hidden beneath Shen Chaoyi’s long lashes.

She was truly beautiful—breathtakingly so.

This striking face, combined with her ability, was a winning hand.

Yi Qingzhuo barely restrained the urge to grab her hand the other way. In a calm voice, she said, “Isn’t listening to the doctor what a patient is supposed to do?”

Because I’m afraid of scaring you, so I’ve started caring about how I look.

Yi Qingzhuo always buried those heavy emotions deep in her heart, keeping them for herself.

“Mm, you should listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you. Scarring isn’t great to look at, but more importantly, if you don’t take good care of it, there will be aftereffects. In winter when it’s cold, the wound will ache; in rainy weather when it’s damp, it’ll itch.” Shen Chaoyi smiled, her brows curving gently as she slowly released her grip on Yi Qingzhuo’s wrist.

When she let go, the thin red string on her wrist was exposed.

Listen to me.

It was as if Yi Qingzhuo had only heard that one sentence. The corners of her mouth kept lifting.

All trace of aloofness and coldness had vanished from her—only a thin layer of warmth remained.

The warmth on her wrist still lingered. Yi Qingzhuo covered that spot with her other hand. “Don’t I count as one of your more obedient patients?”

Shen Chaoyi gave her a look that said, “What do you think?” and then started walking down the stairs.

“Yi Qingzhuo, I always thought you had a pretty clear understanding of yourself.” Her voice held obvious teasing.

Yi Qingzhuo followed behind her, eyeing the four-centimeter heels she was wearing. She silently moved to her side.

Calmly, she said, “I actively cooperate with treatment, take my medicine on time, insisted on bed rest, and when I had questions, I looked them up online to avoid bothering the doctor whenever possible. Am I not obedient enough?”

At that, Shen Chaoyi’s lips curved. She tilted her head to glance at Yi Qingzhuo and didn’t even try to hide her smile.

“What are you laughing at?” Yi Qingzhuo noticed she had only looked at her without saying anything, just smiled, so she asked seriously.

“I’m laughing at how you can say something so funny with such a straight, cold face.” Shen Chaoyi held onto the railing with one hand—these heels weren’t easy for climbing stairs.

Yi Qingzhuo was speechless for a second and didn’t respond.

She had just been trying to keep the conversation going, not kill it in two sentences.

That was what Shen Chaoyi had told her before.

But it seemed she wasn’t the best student.

At least, this conversation was dying anyway.

After waiting for Yi Qingzhuo to say nothing for a while, Shen Chaoyi, used to it, said, “It’s cute.”

“What?”

“You.”

Yi Qingzhuo’s eyes widened. She doubted her own ears. “Me? Cute?”

Shen Chaoyi actually used “cute” to describe her—wasn’t that the same as when she’d used “scary” to describe Shen Chaoyi?

“Is there a problem?” Shen Chaoyi gave her a half-smile.

Yi Qingzhuo shrank her neck. “No problem.”

It was hard not to agree.

Not to agree with the comment itself—but to agree with Shen Chaoyi.

Seeing her like this, Shen Chaoyi smiled gently. “Seriously, if you have any questions, don’t look them up online. You have my contact info. Send me a message, and I’ll reply when I see it. Information online isn’t reliable. For health matters, it’s better to ask a professional.”

Looking things up online easily led to thinking you had cancer.

Shen Chaoyi often met patients who would hold up their phones and ask why what she said didn’t match what was on the internet.

She found it really helpless when people insisted on self-diagnosing.

“Do you give your contact info to a lot of people?” Yi Qingzhuo’s eyes darkened. She was zeroing in on an odd detail.

Shen Chaoyi thought for a moment and asked in return, “What do you think?”

Yi Qingzhuo seemed very concerned about whether she treated everyone the same.

Shen Chaoyi was perceptive. From Yi Qingzhuo’s few words, she easily caught on.

She wanted clear, exclusive affection.

“I don’t know,” Yi Qingzhuo answered honestly.

Shen Chaoyi stepped down one stair and looked back. “I don’t usually offer my contact info. A lot of people have my phone number because I do follow-up calls after their discharge—it’s part of my job and also for data collection for my papers. But the only person who has my WeChat is you.”

You’re special. Only you.

Shen Chaoyi naturally knew how to soothe Yi Qingzhuo’s sensitive, fragile heart.

The more Yi Qingzhuo acted like she wanted no one to come near, the more Shen Chaoyi could see: she was afraid to give her feelings easily, afraid to form any ties with anyone.

She was terrified of meeting someone insincere. She was terrified of being hurt again.

No ties, no debts, clean sleeves, free and easy—that was absolute safety.