Chapter 39: That’s Called Acting Coy

“Mm, thank you.” A trace of dimness flickered through Yi Qingzhuo’s eyes.

Shen Chaoyi set down the pen in her hand, a low laugh filtering through her mask. “You’ll be discharged soon. Then you won’t have to stay cooped up in the hospital ward reading every day. Congratulations in advance.”

Day after day, the same routine repeated for half a month.

Yi Qingzhuo was about to speak, but Shen Chaoyi’s last sentence made her swallow the words before they could leave her mouth.

“Judging by your expression, you don’t look happy? You’ll be free—aren’t you glad?” Shen Chaoyi slowed her voice, making it sound very pleasant.

Hearing this, Yi Qingzhuo smoothed her expression. “No. Wherever I am, it’s pretty much the same to me.”

After she was discharged, it would be back to the internet café to read, then home at the appointed time.

A life of two fixed points, utterly uneventful—not worth looking forward to returning to.

“Once you’re out, you’ll have a bit more freedom. If you have time, you can go for walks, then take in some scenic spots around here. Even if you’re alone, you’ll gain something from it.” Shen Chaoyi smiled gently, as if she could already picture Yi Qingzhuo wandering by herself—either skimming past sights quickly or stopping for a long time in one place.

Yi Qingzhuo gave a slight nod. She wasn’t particularly interested in sightseeing, but she still responded, “Mm.”

“You…”

Yi Qingzhuo hesitated, as if she wanted to say something.

Hearing her speak, Shen Chaoyi looked up, waiting for her to continue.

But Yi Qingzhuo seemed to start without finishing. Shen Chaoyi watched her for a full half a minute.

Yet Yi Qingzhuo only kept her head slightly lowered, her gaze seemingly dodging something deliberately, almost afraid to meet the eyes of the person before her.

Occasionally she would lift her eyes, only to accidentally collide with Shen Chaoyi’s smiling ones, then quickly look away.

Her hands rested on her knees, the heat in her palms nearly dampening the fabric.

“Mm?” Getting no follow-up from Yi Qingzhuo for a long time, Shen Chaoyi let out a surprised sound.

She seemed to have caught Yi Qingzhuo’s hesitation?

What did Yi Qingzhuo want to say?

“What do you want to say?” Shen Chaoyi looked at the upright Yi Qingzhuo, who sat with her back straight, as if bracing herself.

Shen Chaoyi could tell: Yi Qingzhuo had come to her so late—it couldn’t be just to ask when she could be discharged.

The fact that Yi Qingzhuo had actively sought her out made Shen Chaoyi’s heart tighten.

Yi Qingzhuo’s chest rose and fell heavily. Suddenly she stood up, leaning half her body forward. “Let me see your injury.”

Shen Chaoyi hadn’t expected her to jump up so abruptly. Her gaze followed Yi Qingzhuo’s movement upward, and the sudden motion made her heart skip a beat.

Instinctively she leaned back, stunned for a moment.

Yi Qingzhuo’s tone had been unusually rushed. If the room hadn’t been so quiet, Shen Chaoyi might not have caught what she said when she stood up.

“It’s already fine.” Shen Chaoyi gave a small smile.

Yi Qingzhuo pressed her hands on the table edge. “I want to see.”

She was stubbornly determined to see with her own eyes how the injury looked.

If Shen Chaoyi had put on a mask, there had to be some unpleasant mark.

Shen Chaoyi was silent. From her angle, the light in the room seemed mostly blocked by Yi Qingzhuo, casting a shadow that enveloped her.

Compared to the last time she’d looked at her this way, Yi Qingzhuo seemed to have put on a little flesh.

The line of her jaw was no longer so sharp, but instead filled out just right, making her features look even more three-dimensional and coolly beautiful.

Shen Chaoyi couldn’t argue with her. She hooked a finger behind her ear.

Along with the mask falling came a few unruly strands of hair.

Yi Qingzhuo stared without blinking, her face involuntarily warming.

Taking a deep breath, she saw the ring of deep red around Shen Chaoyi’s mouth.

She had already applied medicine once; it looked much better than at the start.

But Shen Chaoyi’s skin was fair and delicate, and she had taken a full punch.

The mark on her face stood out abruptly, spoiling the original beauty of that face.

Yi Qingzhuo clenched her fists. “Sorry… I dragged you into this.”

Shen Chaoyi tossed the removed mask into the trash bin, her voice soft. “I’ve told you it’s fine. You don’t have to feel burdened. You were my patient; it wouldn’t make sense for me to just look the other way. And the one who should feel guilty isn’t you.”

Yi Qingzhuo didn’t seem comforted. She pulled a tube of ointment from her pocket and handed it to Shen Chaoyi. “Use this. It works better.”

“Why are you so sure?” Shen Chaoyi took the ointment, which still carried Yi Qingzhuo’s body heat.

Holding it in her palm, that faint warmth seemed to penetrate her hand, straight to her heart.

Shen Chaoyi glanced at the ointment’s name—not a common one.

“Because I’ve always used this. Personal experience.” Yi Qingzhuo was frank. “Doctors prescribe medicine, but whether it works or not, only the person using it knows.”

She was covered in injuries every few days; long illness made the patient a doctor.

When it came to which medicine healed bruises fastest, Yi Qingzhuo felt she had more say than most people.

Shen Chaoyi was amused, pressing her lips together as she glanced at the ingredient list on the back.

A soft laugh penetrated Yi Qingzhuo’s eardrums. “You’ve used it for so long—did you know this ointment actually has a flaw?”

Yi Qingzhuo was blank for a second. “No. What flaw?”

Even if there was, it was just a small tube of ointment—the flaw couldn’t be big.

Yi Qingzhuo didn’t care much.

“It doesn’t contain scar-reducing ingredients, so wounds will still scar. It’s not the first choice when doctors prescribe, but if you buy it at a pharmacy, it really does work fast,” Shen Chaoyi explained.

Hearing this, Yi Qingzhuo raised her hand as if to take the ointment back.

But Shen Chaoyi pulled her hand away, her fingertip brushing against Yi Qingzhuo’s middle finger.

She raised an eyebrow. “But I don’t have any open wounds, so this is very useful for me. Thank you, Yi Qingzhuo.”

At the final three words, Shen Chaoyi enunciated each one clearly, yet gently.

Yi Qingzhuo’s fingertip twitched. Though her expression remained calm and collected, the curve at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do.”

Yi Qingzhuo sat down, her gaze falling on the corner of Shen Chaoyi’s mouth.

But Shen Chaoyi rose and walked unhurriedly toward Yi Qingzhuo.

Calm and composed, with an airy grace.

Seeing this, Yi Qingzhuo pressed her straight back firmly against the chair.

As the distance between them kept shrinking, Shen Chaoyi showed no sign of stopping.

Swallowing, Yi Qingzhuo forced herself to stay composed.

She maintained her usual flat expression, but her hands gripped the armrests tightly, the dark green veins on them standing out.

One second…

Two seconds…

Shen Chaoyi stopped. One hand braced on the table as she leaned slightly against the edge.

“Yi Qingzhuo, you’re acting very strange tonight.”

“No, I’m not.” Yi Qingzhuo denied it immediately.

“Yes, you are.” Shen Chaoyi stressed her tone, very certain.

Yi Qingzhuo pressed herself against the chair back, feeling her heart leap into her throat. Watching Shen Chaoyi’s graceful figure so close, her inner self melted into a puddle, yet the words that came out were harsh: “This incident was because of me. I’m concerned about your injury, that’s all. I just don’t want to owe anyone anything.”

Yi Qingzhuo refused to admit that she had actually confirmed Shen Chaoyi had nothing to do with Han Yecheng, and that was why she could not help but come to care for her.

Her stubbornness was enough to push away anyone who wasn’t genuinely sincere.

But Shen Chaoyi seemed to have grasped some of Yi Qingzhuo’s temperament. She tilted her head, her eyes clear and moving. “But I didn’t say your strangeness was about being concerned for my injury.”

Yi Qingzhuo was momentarily speechless, pausing for two seconds.

Her voice was as cold as jade and frost. “Then what’s strange about me?”

“I can’t put it into words.” Shen Chaoyi couldn’t articulate that feeling.

It was probably that the sense of boundaries around Yi Qingzhuo had faded quite a bit.

“Then there’s nothing.” Yi Qingzhuo seized on the phrase, concise.

Her mind quickly replayed every moment just now, trying to find what had struck Shen Chaoyi as strange.

But after searching, she found nothing, so she spoke firmly.

Trying to convince Shen Chaoyi—and herself.

Shen Chaoyi was gentle as jade, her soft laugh musical. “You say there isn’t, so there isn’t.”

“You’re just being overly sensitive as a doctor.” Yi Qingzhuo added another line, like a guilty person protesting too much.

This only deepened the smile in Shen Chaoyi’s eyes. She nodded compliantly. “Right, I’m just too perceptive.”

Yi Qingzhuo was sharp enough to immediately sense Shen Chaoyi’s acquiescence—seeing through but not pointing out.

Suddenly feeling like a kindergarten kid whose little secret had been exposed, she turned her head away awkwardly. “You don’t believe me.”

“Are you sulking?” Shen Chaoyi lowered her body slightly, getting a clearer view of Yi Qingzhuo’s expression.

The unfamiliar aura washed over her, and a storm surged in Yi Qingzhuo’s heart.

From the corner of her eye, Shen Chaoyi’s distinct silhouette was so close that Yi Qingzhuo felt her oxygen thinning.

With nowhere to retreat, she simply turned her head and met Shen Chaoyi’s gaze directly. “I’m not.”

“Mm, then you’re acting coy.” Shen Chaoyi smiled faintly, looking delighted.

Those two words were so incongruous with Yi Qingzhuo—almost completely unrelated. They made Yi Qingzhuo’s face flush bright red, especially with the smile on Shen Chaoyi’s face.

So bold, so radiant, like a warm spring breeze.

And it was only because Yi Qingzhuo had repeatedly asked that Shen Chaoyi had taken off her mask, allowing her to see so clearly from such close range.

Yi Qingzhuo took a deep breath, nearly losing her composure under Shen Chaoyi’s teasing.

She abruptly stood up. “I am not.”

Her movement was quick and urgent. Shen Chaoyi was still waiting to watch Yi Qingzhuo flounder, not expecting her to stand up so suddenly—and Shen Chaoyi happened to be leaning so close, her upper body tilted into Yi Qingzhuo’s space.

Before she could pull back, a fleeting coolness brushed Shen Chaoyi’s lips.

In the next second, Shen Chaoyi, who had instinctively closed her eyes at Yi Qingzhuo’s sudden movement, opened them again to meet Yi Qingzhuo’s startled gaze.

Probably even Yi Qingzhuo hadn’t expected this.

Their eyes locked. No matter how fast their reaction times, they both froze for a moment.

Clearly, it had indeed been Yi Qingzhuo’s lips.