"The wound needs to be treated." She said succinctly, her eyes sweeping over his injury, before adding with her characteristic, unyielding assertiveness.
"Now."
Howard looked at the medicine box in his hand, then at Mingzhao's face, which was filled with the expression "orders must be carried out," and was speechless for a moment.
He understood Mingzhao's personality; once she decided his wound needed treatment, she would never let him go.
Moreover... the pure, unadulterated attention in her eyes, though expressed in a very direct and hardcore way, strangely calmed down the irritation he felt because of Zhao Xiaoxiao.
"I..." Howard was about to explain that Wang Caifeng couldn't wait.
Mingzhao, however, seemed to see through his thoughts and interrupted him directly: "Wang Caifeng. She's faking illness. She won't die."
Her tone was as certain as if she were announcing a scientific conclusion: "Your injury is more important."
Howard: "..."
He was speechless at this straightforward and forceful concern.
Looking into Mingzhao's unquestionable gaze and feeling the increasingly sharp pain in his shoulder, he finally had no choice but to give in.
Never mind, Zhao Xiaoxiao has already gone back. He can send someone over a few minutes later; nothing serious should happen.
If the old lady is really faking illness, it won't make a difference if she stays sick for a little while longer.
"Okay." Howard sighed, picked up the medicine box, and turned to walk towards the bedroom. Mingzhao followed behind him like a supervisor.
Howard sat on the edge of the bed, unbuttoned his clothes, revealing the bandages wrapped around his neck.
Sure enough, a patch of glaring bright red had seeped into the white bandage, covering a larger area than before.
Zhao Xiaoxiao's shove just now, coupled with his own emotional outburst, did indeed cause the wound to reopen.
Mingzhao stood in front of him, not kneeling down to help him as she had done last time, but her gaze was fixed on Howard's wound, her brows furrowed as if assessing the extent of the injury.
Her gaze was focused and calm, as if what she saw was not a bloody, mangled wound, but a delicate component that needed repair.
Howard unwrapped the bandages himself, his movements clumsy due to the pain.
Mingzhao watched, her brows furrowing even more, seemingly very dissatisfied with his "operation".
She stepped forward, and although she didn't make a direct move, the silent pressure made Howard subconsciously lower his movements.
The air was filled with the smell of iodine and a faint odor of blood. Howard lowered his head, carefully cleaning the wound and reapplying the medication.
Mingzhao stood to the side, watching silently.
Her gaze moved from the wound to Howard's taut neck, strained from the pain, then to his tightly pursed lips, and finally to his profile as he focused on treating the wound.
The bedroom was quiet, with only Howard's occasional soft gasps of pain and the faint sound of cotton swabs being wiped on his skin.
A silent, warm current, carrying the scent of medicine and blood, flowed quietly between the two.
Howard could clearly feel Mingzhao's gaze on him. That gaze was not as cold and distant as before, but carried an indescribable...presence.
It made him inexplicably uneasy, and his heart seemed to beat a little faster.
Finally, Howard re-bandaged his wound. Although his movements were not as swift as Mingzhao's, they were still quite proper.
He buttoned up his clothes, breathed a sigh of relief, and prepared to get up.
"Sit down," Mingzhao's voice rang out, carrying a command.
Howard paused, looking at her with a puzzled expression.
Mingzhao didn't explain, and turned to walk out.
Soon, she came in with a glass of warm water, handed it to Howard, and said succinctly, "Drink some water. Take a rest."
Howard looked at the glass of water, then at Mingzhao's calm yet unyielding face, and the strange feeling in his heart became even more pronounced.
He took the water glass and drank a few sips as instructed.
The water temperature is just right.
“Alright,” Howard put down his water glass and stood up, “I need to take care of this…”
"Ten minutes," Mingzhao interrupted him, pointing to the small stool by the bed. "Sit down. Rest for ten minutes."
Her tone left no room for negotiation, as if she were setting a forced cooling time for an overheated machine.
Howard looked into her clear yet unusually stubborn eyes and knew that further argument would be futile.
He sighed helplessly and sat back down on the edge of the bed as instructed, instead of sitting on the small stool.
His tall figure sat there, exuding a soldier's unique uprightness; even his injuries couldn't conceal his ruggedness.
Mingzhao pulled over the small stool and sat down a step away from the bed.
She didn't look at Howard, but took out her small notebook and pencil and quickly wrote something on it, as if she was recording data or calculating formulas.
Howard looked at her downcast profile, at her slender fingers moving the pencil swiftly across the paper, at the few stray strands of hair falling across her forehead…
The bedroom fell silent again, but no longer with the awkwardness or heaviness of before; instead, there was a strange, tacit peace.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm dappled patterns on the two of them.
Howard suddenly realized: this scene could be stored in his mind for a very long time... a very long time...
Time passed second by second.
Howard leaned against the headboard, closed his eyes to rest, and the pain in his shoulder was relieved a lot by the medication and the short rest.
He could hear the rustling sound of Mingzhao's pen tip gliding across the paper, a sound that had a strangely soothing effect.
Ten minutes have passed.
Howard suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze sharpening again. He stood up, his movements much more agile.
Mingzhao also stopped writing at almost the same time and looked up at him. She didn't speak, but just nodded slightly, as if to say: The cooldown is over, you can work now.
Howard gave her a deep look, his eyes filled with gratitude, complexity, and an indescribable sense of being touched.
He didn't say anything more, and strode towards the door with steady and powerful steps, displaying the decisiveness unique to soldiers.
He had to deal with Wang Caifeng's mess immediately.
Howard's figure disappeared outside the courtyard gate. Mingzhao withdrew her gaze and looked down again at the small notebook on her lap.
The above is not a formula, but a few lines of extremely concise symbols that only she could understand:
Observation target: HH
Status: Secondary wound dehiscence (moderate), mood swings (low-moderate), compliance (good).
Behavioral pattern supplement: There is a tendency to invest in unnecessary emotions for non-essential external interference (such as blood disputes), and it is necessary to continuously guide their resources (time/energy) to focus on core objectives (recovery/technical output).
Note: The "ten-minute forced cooling" strategy is effective.
She closed her notebook, stood up, and looked toward the courtyard gate.
Howard's departing figure flashed through her mind, but was quickly replaced by something more important.
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