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The smell of disinfectant from the hospital was somewhat diluted by the cool air in the garden. The afternoon sun, carrying a faint warmth, filtered through the sparse sycamore leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

Xiao Jue pushed the wheelchair along the quiet path leading to the small garden behind the hospital building. Sitting in the wheelchair was a slender girl in a loose hospital gown—Qing Ran.

Her long hair was carefully braided into two loose braids that hung over her shoulders. Her face was pale from not seeing the sun for a long time, but her eyes were large, clear and bright, like glass immersed in clear water. At this moment, she was quietly looking at the bare holly bushes and a few remaining chrysanthemum plants around her.

When she heard Xiao Jue whispering something amusing to her, she would gently curve the corners of her mouth and let out a clear, childlike laugh, a laugh as pure as a stream water thoroughly cooled by the sun, rippling out small waves in a quiet garden.

The name "Qingran" was given to her by Xiao Jue.

In order to completely sever her from those bloody and painful past events that might trigger her trauma, he erased all the memory imprints brought about by her real name.

The lush green grass symbolizes endless vitality, and he hopes to bestow upon her this beautiful meaning, along with a brand new, carefully nurtured life.

The wheelchair stopped at the edge of the garden, in front of which was the hospital's rusty low fence.

Outside the fence was an ordinary street corner, with pedestrians and vehicles occasionally hurrying by.

An old man pushing a simple glass cart stopped not far away. The straw targets were full of bright red and shiny candied hawthorns, which looked particularly tempting on the slightly bleak autumn street.

Qingran's gaze was immediately drawn to it.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes fixed on the strings of glistening red beads. Unconsciously, she gently put a finger in her mouth and sucked on it, just like a child who was greedy but afraid of being discovered by adults.

Xiao Jue saw it, and felt a slight pang of sadness mixed with amusement.

He knelt down, gently took her slender wrist, removed her fingers from her mouth, and wiped away the tiny damp spot with his fingertips. His movements were extremely gentle, as if afraid of hurting her.

"Qingran," he looked up at her, his voice low and gentle, as if coaxing a young child, "Do you want to eat that? Candied hawthorn?"

Qingran's eyelashes trembled, and her gaze shifted from the candied hawthorn to Xiao Jue's face. She looked at him for a few seconds, as if confirming his expression, and then nodded very slowly and seriously.

After nodding, she seemed to feel it wasn't enough, so she reached out her soft little hands, hugged Xiao Jue's neck, buried her face in the crook of his neck, rubbed against him like a kitten, and made a muffled, coquettish hum.

Xiao Jue's heart melted instantly. He couldn't help but smile, raising his hand to pat her slender back: "Okay, brother will buy it for you. But,"

He straightened up, holding onto the wheelchair, looked into her eyes, and held up three fingers. His tone was gentle but left no room for negotiation, "You can only have three, okay? Too much candy will hurt your teeth. Qingran doesn't want the doctor to check her teeth, does she?"

Qingran nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling with longing for sweets and complete acceptance of the condition that she could only eat three.

Xiao Jue got up, walked to the fence, and bought the largest and most translucent candied hawthorn skewer from the old man selling candied hawthorns.

He walked back, squatted down in front of Qingran, carefully tore open the glutinous rice paper wrapping, and handed the candied hawthorn to her.

Qingran took it, her eyes curving into crescents. She first stuck out her tongue and carefully licked the glistening sugar coating before opening her mouth and biting off the top hawthorn covered in syrup.

The sweet and sour taste melted in her mouth, and she squinted her eyes contentedly, chewing each bite with great care.

Xiao Jue squatted down in front of her, quietly watching her eat, his gaze filled with an overwhelming tenderness and affection. Sunlight fell on his profile, outlining soft lines and illuminating the deep, almost unseen weariness hidden in his eyes.

The three hawthorns were quickly finished. Qingran looked at the candied hawthorn still more than half left in her hand, a hint of reluctance in her eyes, but she still remembered Xiao Jue's words.

Without hesitation, she obediently held up the candied hawthorn in front of Xiao Jue, tilting her little face up to look at him, as if to say: Brother, I've finished three, you can have the rest.

Xiao Jue felt a warmth in his heart. He took the candied hawthorn and gently cupped her face in his other hand, placing a light and precious kiss on her smooth forehead.

"Good girl, baby." He praised softly, then took out a wet wipe from his pocket and carefully wiped away the sugar stains from the corners of her mouth, and then wiped her sticky little fingers clean one by one.

After basking in the sun in the garden for a while, until Qingran's face flushed a healthy red and she yawned slightly, Xiao Jue pushed her slowly back home.

Back in the ward, he skillfully bent down and carefully lifted Qingran from the wheelchair. The girl was very light, like a feather.

He placed her on the soft, clean hospital bed, fetched hot water, wiped her face and hands with a warm towel, then brought a foot bath, tested the water temperature, and immersed her icy little feet in the water, gently rubbing and massaging them.

Qingran squinted comfortably, like a cat whose fur had been stroked.

After drying her feet and tucking her into the warm blankets, Xiao Jue sat on the edge of the bed and hummed a tuneless nursery rhyme to her, one he himself had forgotten where he had heard it from, until her breathing became even and long, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Looking at the girl's peaceful sleeping face, Xiao Jue's tense nerves finally relaxed a little. He rubbed his throbbing temples, took out his phone which had been on silent all afternoon, and then discovered that Qi Shuo had called an hour earlier.

He quietly got up, walked to the corridor outside the ward, and called back.

The call was answered quickly, and Qin Zhou's boisterous voice came through the phone, along with the background noise of Sister Jin calling them to dinner. It turned out that Sister Jin had prepared another table full of delicious food and was inviting him and Lin Ye over for dinner.

"Brother Xiao Jue! Come quick! Sister Jin made your favorite braised fish!" Qin Zhou shouted from the other end.

A warm feeling welled up in Xiao Jue's heart, but looking at the closed ward door behind him, he lowered his voice and said apologetically, "Xiao Zhou, please tell Sister Jin that something urgent happened at the law firm today, and I have to work overtime to deal with it. I really can't make it. You guys eat, don't wait for me."

"Oh? Working overtime again?" Qin Zhou's voice was a little disappointed. "Shuo-ge doesn't seem to be in a good mood today either. He went straight to his room when he got back... Well, you should get some rest after you're done!"

"Okay, I understand. Please thank Sister Jin for me." Xiao Jue said a few more words before hanging up the phone.

He leaned against the cold wall and let out a long, silent sigh.

Exhaustion washed over me like a tide, not only because of the hard work of taking care of Qingran, but also because of the unspeakable burden that came day after day.

To Qi Shuo, to Sister Jin, to everyone else, he could only use the pale and habitual excuse of "being busy with work" to cover it up. It wasn't that he didn't want to go back to that warm and noisy home, it's just... he couldn't let go of this place.

After standing there for a while, waiting for the sudden wave of bitterness to subside, Xiao Jue pushed open the ward door again and went inside.

He sat down on the chair beside Qingran's bed, quietly gazing at her sleeping face, his gaze complex. After a long while, he reached out and gently brushed a few strands of hair damp with sweat behind her ear, then slowly leaned down, gently resting his forehead on her arms folded over the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes.

I'll just stay with her like this. For as long as I can.

On the other side.

Qi Shuo hung up the phone, looked at the darkened screen, and frowned almost imperceptibly.

Xiao Jue said he had an urgent matter at the law firm and needed to work overtime. His tone sounded normal, but he had a vague feeling that Xiao Jue was hiding something lately.

The feeling was hard to describe; it was more like an intuition built up over many years of interaction. The background noise on the phone was too quiet, unlike the noisy atmosphere of a law firm.

Moreover, the reason of "working overtime" seems to appear quite frequently.

But he didn't delve into it further, nor did he call back to ask. Everyone has their own space and things they don't want to talk about. Since Xiao Jue didn't want to talk about it, he didn't need to, and shouldn't, force him to.

But a vague, inexplicable worry settled quietly in my heart, like a speck of dust.

After finishing his meal, Qi Shuo cleaned up the dishes and, as usual, picked up his canvas bag and prepared to go to the library.

In the late autumn, the library was well-heated, dispelling the chill outside.

He found the textbooks he needed with practiced ease, and carrying several thick hardcover books, headed towards the reading area. His gaze instinctively swept first towards his usual quiet corner by the window—it was already occupied.

His gaze didn't linger; it continued to move, and then, in another relatively quiet corner, he saw that familiar figure.

Tan Huaiyu.

He seemed to have just arrived as well, taking books out of his bag. The moment he looked up and saw Qi Shuo, he seemed to freeze, his whole body stiffening for a moment. Then, almost instinctively, he straightened his back and smiled in Qi Shuo's direction.

The smile was somewhat awkward, nervous, and even a little ingratiating, but the eyes were clear and bright, without the deliberate feigned obedience or unfathomable gloom of before.

Qi Shuo paused almost imperceptibly, then nodded very slightly in that direction. Without any further expression or hesitation, he held the book and scanned the reading room—almost all the seats were occupied, except for one empty seat opposite Tan Huaiyu.

He walked straight over without hesitation and sat down opposite Tan Huaiyu. The sound of pulling out the chair was very soft, but it was still somewhat clear in the excessively quiet atmosphere between the two.

Tan Huaiyu seemed to even slow his breathing. He lowered his head, pretending to tidy up the books on the table, but his ears were secretly turning red.

Qi Shuo didn't look at him. Instead, he spread out the books and notebooks he had brought, took out a pen, and prepared to start reading.

However, his gaze inadvertently swept over the book open in front of Tan Huaiyu and paused slightly.

It was no longer those heavy and obscure psychology monographs, but a set of brightly colored and exquisitely illustrated comic books.

He was familiar with the people and titles on the cover—it was a series he would occasionally sneak a few pages of during breaks from his studies in high school.

Unexpectedly, after so many years, the comic is still being serialized, and Tan Huaiyu... is reading it too.

This discovery stirred a subtle ripple in Qi Shuo's heart, a feeling he couldn't quite describe. But he quickly regained his composure and drew his attention back to the complex texts of translation theory before him.

He turned the pages of the book, took a bookmark from his pencil case, and prepared to insert it into the spot he saw.

The bookmark was made of wood, with a delicate texture, carefully polished, and rounded edges, gleaming with a warm luster. A simple rose was carved on it, its lines flowing and beautiful, next to a line of small, cursive English text—a short poem about the starry sky and waiting. It was the very bookmark that Xiao Jue had given him earlier, the one Tan Huaiyu had made by hand.

Qi Shuo's expression remained unchanged, as if it were just an ordinary bookmark.

He calmly clipped the bookmark in place, then lowered his head and began reading, occasionally jotting down key points in his notebook.

Tan Huaiyu, on the other hand, froze in place the moment he saw the bookmark.

He stared intently at the familiar bookmark between Qi Shuo's fingers, a bookmark he had painstakingly carved and polished over countless nights, watching it being used so naturally and casually, nestled between the pages of the book Qi Shuo was reading.

A huge, overwhelming feeling of bitterness and indescribable throbbing surged up to his head and into his eyes.

He abruptly lowered his head, frantically grabbed the comic book on the table, and held it up so high it almost completely obscured his face. Behind the pages, where no one could see, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably turned upwards, higher and higher, until they formed a fully blossoming, silly, yet incredibly genuine and radiant smile.

That smile contained unbelievable surprise, the ecstasy of being cherished, the immense satisfaction of receiving a response after a cautious attempt, and an almost pious, humble joy.

This wasn't the perfect yet empty, obedient smile he'd practiced countless times to achieve his goal, nor was it the twisted and obsessive sneer that surfaced when the dark side of his heart was churning. This was a genuine, heartfelt smile, blossoming from the smallest bit of affirmation.

Although he knew that Qi Shuo might not have any special meaning in accepting and using the bookmark, perhaps he just thought it was useful, or... simply didn't want to waste a reasonably well-made item.

Qi Shuo's heart was filled with the heavy past, with Sister Jin, Qin Zhou, Xiao Jue, and Ning Wan who suddenly disappeared and then reappeared, and perhaps even with any book in the library that he could immerse himself in... but it would never be with him, Tan Huaiyu.

Even so, the mere fact that he was "accepted" and "used" was like a faint yet intense beam of light that pierced through his long-standing, cold, and dark shell of self-imposed confinement, illuminating the deep-seated soul that huddled within, yearning for a sliver of recognition.

This beam of light is very small and weak; it may vanish in an instant.

But for Tan Huaiyu, that was enough.

That's enough for him to hold on a little longer in this suffocating darkness called "original sin," to barely cling to life.

He clutched the comic book tightly, trying to hide his out-of-control expression and his rapidly reddening, tear-filled eyes. His heart pounded like a drum, crashing wildly in his chest, bringing waves of bittersweet pain.

The reading room remained quiet, with only the rustling of turning pages and the low hum of the air conditioner.

Sunlight streamed in through the high window, casting warm dappled patterns on the two desks facing each other. Qi Shuo was engrossed in his book, occasionally scribbling a few lines, his expression serene.

Tan Huaiyu kept his face hidden behind a comic book, with only the slightly trembling edges of the pages revealing the turmoil in his heart.