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On a sweltering afternoon, the cast on Qi Shuo's leg was finally carefully removed by the doctor.

When the heavy shell that had bound him for nearly two months was removed, revealing his pale, slightly atrophied calves, not only Qi Shuo but also Tan Huaiyu, who had been nervously holding his hand, breathed a barely audible sigh of relief.

The last layer of gauze was removed, revealing the new, pale pink skin beneath. The scar meandered below the left scapula, like a ridge smoothed by time, testifying to the harrowing ordeal and witnessing the tenacious healing process.

"The recovery is going very well, the scar tissue is stable, and you can start doing some gentle stretching and strength training." The doctor nodded in satisfaction and carefully examined Qi Shuo's left leg recovery. "The fracture line is blurred, and the callus is growing well. You can try to gradually remove the crutches, but you still need to proceed step by step and not rush it."

Tan Huaiyu stood to the side, listening even more attentively than Qi Shuo himself, clutching the medical record book so tightly that the pages were almost soaked with sweat.

Only after the doctor confirmed that Qi Shuo was out of danger and only needed follow-up rehabilitation did his nerve, which had been taut for months and almost snapped, finally relax completely.

Stepping out of the hospital building, the late summer sun was no longer scorching, but rather carried a golden, mellow warmth that bathed me, dispelling the last trace of coldness from the disinfectant.

Qi Shuo didn't get into the car immediately. Instead, he stood on the steps, tilted his head back slightly, squinted, and felt the long-lost, unobstructed sunlight falling on his skin. The wind brushed his cheeks, bringing the fragrance of grass and trees and the noise of the city.

It's good to be alive. It's good to be standing healthy.

His wrist was suddenly gently grasped. Tan Huaiyu had appeared beside him without him noticing; her fingers were a little cold and trembling slightly, but her grip was tight.

Qi Shuo turned his head and met his amber eyes. In those eyes, there was no ecstatic joy of surviving a disaster, no excitement of the dust settling down, only a bottomless weariness, as if he had finally swum ashore, and a cautious, almost greedy gaze, as if he wanted to carve the unharmed person in front of him into his very bones.

Qi Shuo turned his hand over and completely enveloped that slightly cool hand in his palm, squeezing it tightly. The dry, warm touch conveyed a silent comfort and reassurance through the skin.

"Go home," Qi Shuo said, his voice not loud, but carrying a heavy, grounded strength.

"Yes, let's go home." Tan Huaiyu nodded heavily, his eyes instantly reddening, but he tried to put on a bright, almost silly smile.

Returning to Yucai Garden, the familiar scents—a blend of sunshine, greenery, and the scents of the two of them—rushed towards them. This place was no longer just a place to recuperate; it was a true refuge for survivors.

The days that followed seemed to be played in slow motion.

The rehabilitation training was meticulously planned by Tan Huaiyu, down to every single moment of every day.

The following week, Qi Shuo's rehabilitation training officially began, and the location was the not-so-spacious living room of Yucaiyuan.

Tan Huaiyu has become the strictest "personal trainer" and "physiotherapist".

He not only watched every professional rehabilitation video he could find, but also consulted a familiar orthopedic doctor and hand-drew a detailed rehabilitation progress chart, which he posted on the refrigerator door. The chart listed the daily training programs, duration, frequency, and precautions, meticulously and systematically.

"Today, let's start with simple joint range of motion and isometric muscle contraction." Tan Huaiyu changed into loose sportswear, his expression as serious as if he were about to go to the operating table.

He helped Qi Shuo sit down on the yoga mat, then knelt beside him, holding a notebook and pen. "Left leg, ankle, slowly, flex your toes, yes, flex to the maximum angle, hold for five seconds... Okay, now point your toes, again..."

Qi Shuo did as instructed. The plaster cast that had been in place for nearly two months made his left calf muscles look thinner than his right, and his skin was also somewhat pale and loose.

When moving his ankle joint, a faint, sluggish "click" sound could be heard, accompanied by a noticeable stiffness. Tan Huaiyu's gaze was fixed on his movements, his brows furrowed slightly, as if the discomfort had also been transmitted to him.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice unconsciously softening.

"It's a little tight, but it doesn't hurt," Qi Shuo replied, his voice steady. But his gaze was fixed on Tan Huaiyu's face, which was inches away from his own.

Sunlight streamed in through the side window, casting a pale golden glow on his drooping eyelashes. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on the tip of his nose from his focused concentration, and his lips were slightly pursed, making him both serious and endearing.

After simple ankle exercises, move on to knee flexion and extension, and then tighten your thigh muscles and hold the position.

These movements seem simple, but for an injured leg that has been inactive for a long time, they require activating the memory and control of every muscle fiber. Qi Shuo performed them slowly and attentively, and sweat gradually seeped from his forehead.

Tan Huaiyu occasionally reached out and gently touched the muscles in his leg with his fingertips, feeling the firmness when they contracted. "Here, yes, the point of force is here... Hold on, ten, nine, eight..."

He counted softly, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet living room. His fingertips were slightly cool, his touch gentle yet carrying a subtle electric current that seemed to seep through Qi Shuo's skin and into his heart.

After completing a training session in just twenty minutes, Qi Shuo's left leg was already feeling sore and swollen, a long-lost feeling of his muscles being used.

Tan Huaiyu was even more tired than him, his forehead covered in fine sweat, whether from nervousness or from exerting himself as well, it was hard to tell.

"Rest for five minutes, then try to stand up and shift your weight." Tan Huaiyu glanced at the progress chart, then at Qi Shuo's face, making sure he wasn't uncomfortable before letting out a sigh of relief and picking up the water glass next to him. "Drink slowly."

Qi Shuo took the water glass, but his gaze never left Tan Huaiyu. He watched Tan Huaiyu's brows relax because of his perfect movement, watched him carefully write "Good muscle strength recovery" in his notebook, watched his slightly slumped waist and slightly reddened ears as he got up to wring out a hot towel for himself.

Some things, quietly growing and poised to take shape, emerge from the silent sweat and breath, from those careful touches and focused gazes.

Standing training was an even greater challenge. Tan Huaiyu practically used his own body as a human support for Qi Shuo, standing beside him, one hand tightly wrapped around his waist, the other hand firmly gripping his arm, using his own body as a support for Qi Shuo's center of gravity.

"Come on, take it slow. Shift your weight to your right leg first... Okay, now, try putting a little bit of weight, I mean just a little bit, on your left leg... Yes, like that, with your foot firmly on the ground, feel the support... Don't rush, we're just going to feel it, don't worry about doing too much..."

Qi Shuo did as instructed, shifting his weight very slowly and tentatively to his left leg. The moment his injured leg touched the ground, bearing even the slightest weight, a strange sensation arose, a mixture of soreness and a slight stinging. His calf muscles trembled uncontrollably. He could feel how tightly Tan Huaiyu's arms were wrapped around his waist, smell his clean, slightly sweaty scent, feel his almost held breath, and hear his rapid heartbeat through the thin fabric.

It wasn't a comfortable position; it was even somewhat awkward and strenuous. But a strange sense of intimacy and dependence, far exceeding physical contact, quietly rose within this close embrace. It was as if they weren't just undergoing rehabilitation training, but facing a perilous challenge together, sharing every subtle step forward and every trace of uncertainty and trepidation.

"Very good, very good..." Tan Huaiyu's voice was right next to his ear, filled with undisguised encouragement and joy, his warm breath brushing against his earlobe, "Hold on for five seconds... four, three, two, one! Okay, slowly pull back!"

When Qi Shuo shifted his weight back to his right leg and sat back down in his chair with Tan Huaiyu's help, both of them let out a soft sigh of relief, as if they had accomplished a great feat together. Tan Huaiyu rested his forehead on Qi Shuo's shoulder, paused for a couple of seconds, and then looked up at him with bright, sparkling eyes filled with pure, unreserved pride and joy.

"You did it!" he said, his voice brimming with barely suppressed joy.

Looking at his flushed cheeks and incredibly bright eyes, Qi Shuo felt a soft spot in his heart. He raised his hand and gently wiped the sweat from the tip of his nose with the pad of his thumb.

"Yes, I did it." He replied softly, his gaze deep, fixed on his lips, which opened and closed with a smile.

Some desires, through daily closeness, touching, and mutual support, grow quietly like vines, entwining the dam of reason.

Those primal desires for intimacy between lovers, suppressed by pain and a long recovery period, sprout quietly and grow silently like seeds nourished by spring rain, with every breath they take, every touch of their bodies, and every exchange of glances.

From initially walking slowly with crutches, to being able to move independently indoors, and then attempting to go up and down stairs, Qi Shuo took each step slowly but firmly. Every small step forward ignited a bright, pure joy in Tan Huaiyu's eyes.

The body is recovering, and those things that have been suppressed for months by pain and careful restraint are beginning to thaw slowly and tentatively under the warm spring sun, like a frozen river.

It started with his gaze. Qi Shuo's eyes no longer lingered solely on Tan Huaiyu's busy figure, but began to linger more and longer on the lines of his profile, his lips as he spoke, and... certain more private parts.

His gaze was deep and quiet, yet it carried a gradually warming, undeniable focus, like an awakening volcano, its surface calm, but its inner magma surging.

Tan Huaiyu wasn't completely oblivious. He could feel the subtle burning sensation from that gaze, and his heart would skip a beat. But he chose silence, even... indulgence.

He also longed for confirmation, and longed to dispel the last trace of fear of loss deep in his heart caused by that accident through the most primal and intimate means.

Nighttime is the stage for probing and tacit approval.

At first, they simply slept in each other's arms. Tan Huaiyu would carefully avoid Qi Shuo's healed areas, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder and gently wrapping her arms around his waist.

Qi Shuo would use his intact arm to encircle him completely, resting his chin on the top of his head. The simple exchange of body heat and the sound of each other's heartbeats were enough to comfort him.

Later, the kisses became more frequent and deeper. They were no longer just light, fleeting goodnight kisses, but tender, lingering caresses filled with warmth and soft whispers.

Between watching TV on the sofa, during a moment of fresh air on the balcony, in the darkness before falling asleep. Lips and teeth touching, breaths mingling, as if repeatedly tracing and confirming each other's outlines and scents.

Outside the window, the night breeze is gentle. Inside, spring tides are surging.

Tan Huaiyu was so tired that she couldn't even lift her fingers, but she stubbornly pressed her face against Qi Shuo's chest, listening to his steady and powerful heartbeat, with a satisfied and reassuring smile on her lips.

Qi Shuo's fingers absently combed through his sweaty bangs, his gaze fixed on the hazy night outside the window.

"Qi Shuo." Tan Huaiyu suddenly called his name softly.

"Um?"

"From now on..." Tan Huaiyu's voice carried a languid tone and a barely perceptible tremor, "Let's never have another accident like that again, okay?"

Qi Shuo's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. He looked down at the tightly closed eyes and slightly trembling eyelashes of the person in his arms, and tightened his arms around them.

"Okay." He whispered his promise, kissing the top of his head. "It won't happen again."

This promise may not be able to completely withstand the unpredictability of fate.

But at least for this moment, in their deepest possession and affirmation of each other, they are willing to believe, and will strive to live well together for this promise.

Scars are marks of the past.

Love is the only destination leading to the future.