Chapter 49 For us You are my everything

"Song Xingran, you're almost there."

Wen Mu held the bowl of porridge and looked helplessly at the man on the hospital bed who was becoming more and more demanding.

The man blinked his beautiful eyes, his black hair spread out on the pillow, and looked at her innocently with eyes as bright as gasoline.

"Honey, my hand hurts." He shook his right leg in a cast. "My leg hurts too."

Wen Mu sighed, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, blew on it, and handed it to his mouth: "The doctor said you can eat on your own."

Song Xingran obediently opened her mouth and took the spoon, but when she was about to pull it back, he suddenly licked her fingertips with the tip of his tongue.

Wen Mu retracted his hand as if he had been scalded, and his ears instantly became hot.

"You." She glared at him, but got a ruffian smile in return.

"Sweet." Song Xingran said meaningfully, his eyes falling on her red earlobe.

This is the third day after Song Xingran woke up.

Although his injuries were still serious, his spirits had improved a lot, and the most obvious manifestation was that he was becoming more and more rogue.

Wen Mu put down the bowl of porridge and picked up the water cup and pills on the bedside: "It's time to take the medicine."

Song Xingran frowned: "Bitter."

"Are you three years old?" Wen Mu couldn't help but complain, but he still took out a strawberry candy from his pocket and said, "I'll give you this after you take the medicine."

Song Xingran's eyes lit up: "Feed me."

"Do you want to give me medicine too?"

"Yeah." He nodded confidently, "It won't be hard if my wife feeds me."

Wen Mu shook her head, but still obeyed. She placed the pill in her palm and held it to his lips. He lowered his head and took the pill in his mouth, his warm lips brushing against her palm, intentionally or unintentionally.

"Water." She quickly handed him the cup, fearing that he would do something else.

Song Xingran swallowed the pill obediently, then opened his mouth and said, "Ah——"

Wen Mu peeled off the candy wrapper and put the strawberry candy into his mouth.

The next second, her wrist was grabbed and she was pulled forward. Song Xingran's lips pressed against hers, and the sweet taste of strawberry spread between their lips and teeth.

"It's sweeter this way," he said proudly as he let her go.

Wen Mu panted, stood up, and straightened the collar of his wrinkled hospital gown: "If you continue like this, I won't feed you."

"Then I'll feed you." He winked. "When I get better, I'll cook noodles for you every day and feed you."

Wen Mu's heart suddenly softened.

She reached out and smoothed the hair off his forehead: "Please."

"Get well soon."

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains onto the bed, adding a touch of life to the man's pale face. Wen Mu's eyes swept over his plastered right leg, the bandage on his chest, and his right arm in a sling, and he felt his throat tighten.

The scene of that day came to my mind again.

The distorted racing car on TV, the flashing lights of the ambulance, the blurry figure on the stretcher...

"Wife?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Wen Mu shook his head, forcing himself to shake off those images: "Nothing. Do you want to wipe yourself off?"

Song Xingran's eyes lit up immediately: "Yes."

"Just wipe your body, don't think of anything wrong." Wen Mu warned him, but still went to the bathroom to get hot water with a red face.

When she returned with the basin, the man had already unbuttoned the top half of his hospital gown. Though bandaged, his sturdy frame was still faintly visible. Wen Mu averted her eyes, wrung out the towel, and carefully avoided the wound as she wiped his neck and shoulders.

"I want the bottom too." Song Xingran said more demandingly.

Wen Mu glared at him: "It's your leg that's injured, not your hand."

"But I can't move." Song Xingran looked at her pitifully.

"Wife~"

The word "wife" was called out in a thousand ways.

Wen Mu never knew that there was a man who was so good at acting like a spoiled child, and he never thought that this man was still so arrogant before getting married.

She surrendered, took a deep breath, lifted a corner of the quilt, and gently wiped his calf. Song Xingran's legs were long and well-defined, and even the plaster cast couldn't hide his athletic physique. Wen Mu moved very gently, afraid to hurt him.

"A little higher." Song Xingran commanded, "A little higher."

Wen Mu's towel moved to his thigh, and he suddenly realized something and retracted his hand: "Song Xingran."

"What's wrong?" He looked innocent. "I'm really upset."

Wen Mu threw the towel into the basin: "Wipe it yourself."

"Don't." Song Xingran used his uninjured hand to pull the corner of her clothes. "My wife is the best."

Wen Mu had no choice but to continue.

When did she become so unable to resist his temptation?

The towel moved slowly across the man's body, and Song Xingran groaned as he touched something unknown.

"Did it hurt you?" Wen Mu asked nervously.

Song Xingran shook his head, but his eyes darkened: "It's true, I miss you a little bit."

Wen Mu followed his gaze and immediately understood something.

She really didn't understand. Even though she was injured so badly, why was she still so ignorant?

"Why are you like this?" She only asked this question.

"What's wrong?" Song Xingran said confidently, "I'm not injured anywhere."

Wen Mu threw the towel at his face: "Handle it yourself."

The man laughed heartily, but it injured his ribs and he immediately turned into a grinning face: "Hiss——"

"Wife, you are so cruel."

"You deserve it."

Wen Mu scolded him and hurried forward to check if there was any bleeding on his bandage.

Song Xingran took the opportunity to put his left arm around her waist and pull her closer.

"Honey, a kiss will stop the pain."

Wen Mu had no choice but to lean over and touch his lips lightly. Just as he was about to leave, his head was pressed down and the kiss deepened.

The sticky sweetness of strawberry candy spread, and the man's tongue traced the shape of her lips, gently and domineeringly.

Just as the two were kissing passionately, the door was suddenly pushed open.

"Aran!"

A female voice exploded in the ward.

Wen Mu was so frightened that she immediately stood up, Song Xingran's hand still around her waist. They both turned their heads and saw four petrified statues standing at the door - Song Mingshen and Shen Sui, Wen Zhiyuan and Qin Yi. Both sets of parents stared at the scene with wide eyes.

The air froze for a full sixty seconds.

"Oh, I suddenly remembered that I left my phone in the car!" Shen Sui was the first to react and turned around and walked out.

"I'll go with you to get it!" Qin Yi followed immediately.

"Well, I'll go ask the doctor about the situation." Wen Zhiyuan pushed his glasses and fled.

Song Mingshen stood where he was and coughed, "You guys, continue." Then he closed the door considerately.

Wen Mu's face was as red as a boiled shrimp. She slapped away Song Xingran's hand that was still around her waist and said, "It's all your fault."

The usually calm and composed Miss Doctor was unusually shy.

Song Xingran laughed heartlessly. He liked her like this, a look she would only show in front of him.

"Teacher Wen, this is the first time I see you blushing so obviously."

"You!" Wen Mu wanted to scold him, but seeing that he was covered in wounds, he couldn't bear to do so, so he had to tidy up his clothes and hair one by one with great effort.

"Now that's good, how am I going to face my parents in the future?"

"What are you afraid of?" Song Xingran didn't care. "They just want us to have a good relationship."

"You know what my mother told me when we first got married?"

"say what?"

The man grinned: "My mother told me to behave better, get in better shape, read more books and learn more skills when I have nothing to do, so that you won't dislike me."

Wen Mu knew he was talking nonsense and glared at him, but couldn't help laughing.

She walked to the door, took a deep breath, and then opened the door: "Dad, Mom, you can come in."

Four elders filed in, each with a subtle expression, deliberately avoiding looking at each other.

Shen Sui was the first to return to normal. He walked to the bedside and touched his son's forehead: "How do you feel? Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts." Song Xingran immediately pretended to be pitiful, "It will only get better if my wife kisses me."

Wen Mu pinched him hard from behind, and the man cried out.

"Serves you right." Shen Sui said knowingly, but still helped his son adjust his pillow distressedly, "Why are you so careless? Do you know that I almost fainted when I saw the news?"

Song Xingran put away his joking expression: "Sorry, Mom."

"Don't blame him." Wen Mu said softly, "The car suddenly lost control."

Song Mingshen looked at his son seriously. "What did the doctor say? How long will the recovery period be?"

"About three months." Song Xingran replied, "After the bones heal, we still need rehabilitation."

"Over there in the convoy..."

"Dad." Song Xingran interrupted him, "Let's not talk about this now."

The atmosphere was a little solemn for a moment.

Qin Yi took out the thermos box at the right time: "Zhizhi, I made some soup. You must not have eaten well these days."

"Thank you, Mom." Wen Mu took the thermos box and was indeed hungry. She had been staying with Song Xingran almost all the time these past few days and hadn't really had a proper meal.

Shen Sui took Wen Mu's hand and said, "Good boy, you've worked hard. We'll be on guard tonight, so go back and have a good rest."

Wen Mu was about to refuse, but Song Xingran said, "Mom is right, you should rest."

She looked at the man on the hospital bed. His eyes were full of tenderness.

Finally, she nodded: "Well, I'll go back and take a shower, change clothes and come back."

"No need to rush back." Song Xingran squeezed her hand, "Have a good sleep."

Bad boy, now you know how to pretend.

Wen Mu was furious.

She leaned over, thought for a moment, and whispered in his ear, "I can't sleep without you."

Song Xingran's eyes darkened, and he said in a voice that only she could hear: "Wait until I'm better, and then I'll let you sleep enough."

Wen Mu stood up with a red face and said goodbye hurriedly under the inquiring gazes of the four elders.

*

Two weeks later, Song Xingran was finally allowed to be discharged from the hospital.

Wen Mu helped him put on his coat, being careful to avoid the sling on his right arm. After two weeks of recovery, the man looked much better and was able to stand briefly with support.

"Let's go home." Song Xingran was as excited as a child, and put his left hand around Wen Mu's shoulders for support.

Wen Mu helped him slowly walk towards the wheelchair - the doctor insisted that he must use a wheelchair when discharged to prevent secondary injuries caused by falls. Song Xingran was quite dissatisfied with this, but finally compromised under Wen Mu's insistence.

"Mr. Song's residence in London is ready," the hospital administrator said respectfully. "The rehabilitation team will visit him every day for physical therapy and examinations."

"Thank you." Wen Mu nodded and helped Song Xingran adjust the cushion on the wheelchair.

The Song family's car drove directly to the hospital entrance.

The driver and bodyguard helped Song Xingran into the car, while Wen Mu carefully put away all the medicines and medical instructions.

The car drove to a mansion in London's West End. Although Wen Mu knew that the Song family had properties in major cities around the world, he was still secretly amazed when he saw this five-story villa near Kensington Gardens with his own eyes.

There’s no elevator installed on the fifth floor. Will this old lady be exhausted to death?

"Do you like it?" Song Xingran asked, leaning on her shoulder. "We'll stay here when we come to London for competitions."

Wen Mu hummed softly, but his mind was elsewhere.

Honestly, she wished he would stop competing.

She never thought of interfering in Song Xingran's career, but this accident did leave a deep shadow on her.

Find some time to talk to him.

The villa's interior is elegant yet modern. The first floor houses a spacious living room and dining room, the second floor houses the master bedroom and study, the third floor houses guest rooms, and the top floor even has a small observatory with a telescope—apparently designed specifically for Wen Mu.

"Surprised?" Song Xingran asked proudly, "I asked my dad to buy it last year and modify it specially for you."

"It's a pity that I didn't have the chance to tell you..." He shrugged, then grimaced because of the pain in his wound.

Wen Mu quickly helped him sit down: "Don't move."

The rehabilitation therapist and nurse arrived quickly and helped Song Xingran with basic examinations.

Wen Mu familiarized himself with the layout of the villa, especially the location of the emergency call equipment.

In the evening, she helped Song Xingran take a bath - this had become a daily routine, although it would make both of them blush every time - and then carefully helped him to bed.

"I can finally sleep in a bed today." Song Xingran sighed contentedly, "The beds in the hospital are so hard."

"Squeamish." Wen Mu turned off the main light, leaving only a night light on.

As soon as she lay down, the man came over and hugged her with his uninjured hand.

"Wife."

"Um?"

"Thank you." His voice was particularly gentle in the darkness. "You've worked hard during this period."

Wen Mu turned to face him, tracing his outline in the dim light: "It's not hard."

Song Xingran stroked the corner of her eye with his thumb: "You're lying, you've lost weight."

"It's a good time to lose weight." Wen Mu said casually, but couldn't help but move closer to listen to his strong heartbeat.

This was the first time since the accident that she felt truly at ease. The smell of disinfectant in the hospital was replaced by the familiar scent of lavender at home, and the sound of the cold instruments was replaced by the sound of each other's breathing.

Wen Mu closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

She returned to the corridor.

She held the Crystal Nebula in her arms and walked briskly down the corridor.

She saw the TV screen at the end of the corridor, and her legs felt like they were tied up, unable to move.

No, she wanted to go, she wanted to watch his game.

Why not let her go?

She was scared, as if there was something scary on TV.

Then she saw the car.

The silver-black race car twisted its body and spun towards the guardrail, sending carbon fiber fragments exploding like fireworks. Flames engulfed the cockpit, and the figure inside struggled, unable to escape.

Who is that?

Who is trapped inside?

Is he coming out?

Is he injured?

Why does it feel so familiar?

No.

Not him.

It must not be him.

"Wife!"

"Wife!"

“Wake up!”

Wen Mu suddenly opened his eyes, already covered in cold sweat, his tears soaking the front of his pajamas.

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm fine." Song Xingran kept kissing the top of her head and patting her back with his left hand, "It's just a nightmare."

Wen Mu was speechless and could only bury his face in his chest, biting his lower lip hard to hold back the tears that were already welling up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"I promise I won't make you worry again."

Wen Mu shook his head, but hugged her tighter.

She couldn't imagine what would happen if the accident that day was more serious, if he didn't wake up, if...

"Shh, don't think about it." Song Xingran seemed to be able to read her thoughts, "I'm here and not going anywhere."

Moonlight shone through the gaps in the curtains onto the bed, outlining the silhouettes of the two people hugging each other.

"Would you like some water?" he asked.

Wen Mu shook his head and just clung to him tighter: "Just like that, don't move."

Song Xingran kissed her forehead: "Okay, don't move."

The night wind gently blew the curtains, and the sound of the London clock tower chiming in the distance came.

The moonlight flowed quietly like water on the bedroom floor.

Wen Mu curled up in Song Xingran's arms, listening to his strong heartbeat, her fingers unconsciously stroking the buttons of his pajamas. Song Xingran's left arm gently wrapped around her, and his injured right arm rested on the pillow.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly, her fingertips carefully avoiding the bandages on his chest.

Song Xingran shook his head and rubbed his chin against the top of her head: "It doesn't hurt anymore."

He was lying. She remembered every time he turned over, the imperceptible pause, the occasional muffled groan at night, and the slight frown on his brow when he took medicine.

But she didn't expose him, she just pressed closer to him.

"What are you thinking about?" Song Xingran's lips pressed against her forehead, his voice low and gentle.

Wen Mu didn't answer immediately.

Ever since the accident, she had forced herself to remain calm and strong, dealing with every emergency as rationally as if it were astronomical data. But now, on this quiet night, in this space that belonged only to them, she felt something that had been tense for a long time begin to loosen.

"I was wondering," she said, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "what I would do if you didn't wake up."

Song Xingran's body stiffened noticeably. He tried to lift her face, but Wen Mu stubbornly buried her head in his chest, preventing him from seeing her expression.

"Wen Mu." He called her.

Wen Mu ignored him, his eyes dull as he continued, as if talking to himself: "I saw the news on TV the other day that your car was completely deformed, and the front wing was shattered like a piece of paper. I kept calling you, but I couldn't get through."

"I kept thinking on the plane, if something really happened to you, what would I do? What would I do? I would have to claim your body, arrange a funeral, go back to a home without you, take care of the gasoline by myself, and fall asleep with those painful memories..."

The man's breathing became rapid. He hugged her tightly, as if he wanted to rub her into his bones and blood. "Don't say anything. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Do you know what's the scariest thing?" Wen Mu raised his head, tears glistening in the moonlight. "I discovered it. I can't even imagine it."

"Life without you is like, without air, to me."

"That's scary, I'm really in love with you."

Before she finished speaking, Song Xingran had already tremblingly kissed away the tears on her face. The salty liquid wet his lips, but he didn't care, as if this could take away some of the pain of the person in his arms.

"I won't leave you, ever."

"You promise?" Wen Mu looked at him in a daze.

Song Xingran held her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers: "I promise. Even if the god of death comes, I will beat him up and run back to find you."

Wen Mu burst into laughter, but the smile was soon drowned out by sorrow: "You know what? During this period, I woke up in the middle of the night every day. I had to hear your heartbeat before I could fall asleep again."

"I hate this."

“I’m no longer myself.”

"Wen Mu," Song Xingran's voice was hoarse, "look at me."

She raised her head as he held her face, but she didn't want to look at him again.

"I swear," the man said word by word, "I will never make you worry like this again."

Wen Mu shook his head. "You can't control it. Racing is just that dangerous."

The air froze.

Song Xingran's brow furrowed slightly, as if realizing something. Wen Mu felt a pang of anxiety, but she couldn't turn back anymore—the words that had been suppressed in her heart for so long finally found an outlet.

"Song Xingran," she said calmly, "Can you..."

"Give up racing?"

These words were like a stone, hitting the two of them hard.

The man's pupils dilated slightly, and his lips pressed into a straight line. But Wen Mu knew that since he had started talking, he couldn't stop.

"I know this request is selfish, but I still have to say it." Her fingers tightly grasped the man's collar.

"I really, really can't go through this again. Not only me, but mom and dad, your boss, your teammates, everyone around you, they can't go through this again."

"Wen Mu." Song Xingran interrupted her softly, stroking her trembling lips with his thumb, "Look at me."

She raised her head, with a hint of red at the corners of her eyes.

"I understand your fear," he said in a remarkably calm voice, "but it's not that simple."

"What's the meaning?"

Song Xingran took a deep breath and chose his words carefully: "My contract with the team still has six months left, and..."

He hesitated, "There's something I need to take care of."

"What is more important than your life?"

"More important than our marriage, our lives?"

"Of course not." The man immediately denied it, and stroked her cheek with his left hand. "But please believe me, I need some time. I will arrange everything, okay?"

Wen Mu broke free from his hand and sat up. The moonlight shone on her pale face, and tear marks shimmered. "Time? You might not have time next time! Do you know how serious your injuries are? Broken bones, three broken ribs, a concussion! The doctor said that if you get hurt in the head again..."

She choked and could not continue.

Song Xingran struggled to stand up, endured the pain and sat up, then used his uninjured hand to pull her: "Wife."

"Don't call me wife." Wen Mu suddenly shook off his hand, and then felt ashamed of his loss of control.

How could she become like this, so distraught, unable to control her emotions at all, the kind of reckless person that he hated the most.

Why is this happening?

"Song Xingran, if you really regard me as your wife, you should not ignore our future."

Don't consider me.

She seemed unable to continue speaking, covering her face with her hands and her shoulders shaking violently.

Regardless of the pain, the man forcefully pulled her into his arms and refused to let go despite her struggles.

"I'm sorry," he repeated over and over in her ear, "I'm sorry for making you so scared."

Wen Mu finally stopped struggling and broke down in his arms, crying. All her suppressed emotions were like a flood that broke through the dam, sweeping away her usual rationality and restraint. She cried like a lost child, her tears soaking the man's pajamas.

She was truly terrified, more so than she'd ever been. She knew her life had been smooth sailing, with few setbacks. But she had never imagined that falling in love could be so painful.

Wen Mu belatedly realized the fear. She didn't like the feeling of losing herself like this. She forced herself to catch her breath, wiped away the tears from her eyes, and spoke again, her voice regaining its usual calmness.

"I don't want to lose you." That was all she said at last.

Song Xingran's heart seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand.

He had never seen Wen Mu like this before - the Dr. Wen who debated calmly at academic conferences, the teacher Wen who never lost his composure in the face of provocation, now as fragile as a candle in the wind in his arms.

"Listen to me," he cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "I love you more than anything in this world. Racing is just, just a part of my life."

"And you, you are everything to me."

Tears hung on the woman's eyelashes, looking like tiny diamonds in the moonlight.

She didn't say anything, but just stared at him with indifferent eyes, silently accusing him of her dissatisfaction.

"There are some things I must finish." Song Xingran's eyes became firm. "Give me three months, no, two months. I promise you, I will give you a satisfactory answer."

He kissed her brow: "Trust me, okay?"

Wen Mu wanted to say no, wanted to protest loudly, wanted to threaten him with divorce if he didn't give up racing. But when she saw the pleading and determination in Song Xingran's eyes, all the harsh words got stuck in her throat.

"But I'm afraid."

"I'm old, and I'm afraid."

She rarely joked with him about her age, hoping that he could understand her heart a little.

The man held her in his arms again, his chin resting on the top of her head: "I know, I know."

"You know what? I've been having nightmares every time you compete since a long time ago." Wen Mu's voice was muffled in his chest. "I've been looking up information, calculating the angle and speed of impact, and studying the limits of the safety system."

"The data tells me you're safe, but my heart won't obey."

My heart was gripped tightly.

His wife, an astronomer, actually used scientific methods to relieve her anxiety, but still couldn't get rid of her fear.

"sorry."

"Ever since we got married, I've been telling you not to interfere with my work. I've always put work before you. But now, I'm asking you to give up racing, which you've loved for over a decade, for no reason."

"I think I'm the most selfish person in the world."

"No."

Wen Mu's face was gently held up by the man.

"Wen Mu, you are not selfish at all."

"You just love me."

like.

This simple word seems so heavy at this moment.

Wen Mu raised her head and stared at her husband's face in the moonlight - the scar that she had kissed countless times was across his brow, his amber eyes were still bright even in the dark, and his lips were a little chapped due to lack of water, but still the shape she loved most.

She leaned forward and kissed him hard.

This kiss was filled with salty tears and unspeakable fear, like a drowning man grasping at the last piece of driftwood. Song Xingran responded to her, his left hand inserted into her hair, gently but firmly.

When they broke apart, both of them were breathing erratically.

Wen Mu rested his forehead against his and whispered, "Am I terrible?"

"You're already thirty years old, yet you're so fragile and can't withstand any setbacks. I even..."

"Not even as good as you."

I can't compare to you who are so strong, tough and confident.

"Oh no?" The man chuckled. "Teacher Wen, you are the bravest person I have ever met."

"The first time we met, you told me to go back and marry you. That was so cool."

"But a brave man won't cry like a baby in the middle of the night."

"Being brave isn't about not being afraid," Song Xingran kissed the tip of her nose, "but being afraid yet still moving forward."

"Just like you, even though you were so scared, you still supported me in the competition until now."

Wen Mu lowered his eyes: "Maybe I won't be able to support it in the future."

She wasn't going to lie, and was indeed slowly showing her concern for his career.

Song Xingran was silent for a while, then said, "Can you play a song for me?"

"Now?" Wen Mu looked up in confusion.

"Yeah." Song Xingran pointed to the piano in the corner—it was specially prepared for her when he moved in. "Play your favorite, Debussy's 'Moonlight.'"

Wen Mu hesitated for a moment, then stood up and walked towards the piano. Moonlight shone through the French windows onto the black and white keys. She gently stroked the cool surface and then sat down.

Song Xingran closed his eyes as the first note sounded. Wen Mu's playing wasn't professional, but it was full of emotion. The clear sound of the piano flowed through the room like moonlight, soothing the intense emotions that had just been surging.

When the last note dissipated in the air, he opened his eyes and saw his wife Mu sitting on the piano stool looking at him, as beautiful as a fairy on the moon.

"Come here." He held out his hand.

Wen Mu walked back to the bed and was pulled into his arms. Song Xingran's lips were pressed against her ear: "No matter what happens, we will be together. I promise."

This was not the answer she wanted.

But at this moment, on this moonlit night, in his warm embrace, Wen Mu decided to believe this promise for the time being.

"I love you," she whispered, and that was the only certainty of the night.

Song Xingran tightened his arms and hugged her tighter: "I love you more."

"impossible."

"Bet a hundred bucks."

Wen Mu smiled, tears still hanging in the corners of his eyes: "Master Song is so stingy."

"You owe me more than a hundred dollars now."

"Then I'll pay you back with my whole life." The man kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep. I'm right here."

Wen Mu leaned on his chest, listened to the familiar heartbeat, and slowly closed his eyes.

The moonlight moved quietly, casting the figures of the two people embracing on the wall, like an inseparable whole.

Outside the window, the night sky of London is dotted with stars.

Wen Mu suddenly felt that the stars she had studied for ten years were not as real and precious as the heartbeat of the person in her arms.

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The author has something to say: Love makes people lose their minds [chin]

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Eight thousand words per chapter! Did you enjoy reading it?

Thank you for your baby's nutrition solution and comments! Some of them can't see their IDs, so I thank them all here! [Kiss]