Just before Mu Xinrong's consciousness was about to sink into the endless darkness——
"Tick, tick, tick."
The clear and steady sound of footsteps, like the meshing of gears in a precision clock, came from far away and gradually approached, penetrating the dead silence of the clinic corridor and accurately breaking the ice of despair in Mu Xinrong's heart.
Mu Xinrong suddenly raised his head, and his heart pounded violently in his chest, but it was not fear, but a nearly suffocating, ecstatic throbbing!
This footstep! He was so familiar with it! Countless times in the quiet corridor after evening self-study, countless times when he looked up at a difficult problem, he would see that tall figure walking towards him with such steady, clear steps, carrying a power that could calm people's hearts.
He looked in the direction of the sound, his heart beating wildly in his throat.
The light at the door of the observation room was blocked by a tall and straight figure.
——Ye Qingliu.
He wore a perfectly tailored long black woolen coat, which made his figure look even more neat and cool. The collar was meticulously turned up, covering half of his jaw, but it couldn't hide his calm temperament.
His short black hair was neatly combed, not a single mess, just as serious as he was. His signature pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, the lenses reflecting a calm light under the corridor ceiling light.
His eyes, like two high-precision scanners, swept across the entire observation room in an instant.
From the data jumping on the instrument screen, to the astonished face of the nurse on duty behind the nurses' station, and finally, those gray-blue eyes penetrated the lenses, like a searchlight, and fell accurately and directly on Mu Xinrong who was curled up on the cold floor.
At that moment, Mu Xinrong felt all the blood in his body rush to his head! His nerves, which had been stretched to the limit, suddenly relaxed. A huge sourness and grievance suddenly rushed into his nose, and his eyes instantly turned red!
He was like a small boat that had been drifting in the storm for too long and finally saw the lighthouse. All his strength and disguise collapsed the moment he saw the clear night flow!
He didn't need to hold on any longer! Qingliu was coming! He was really coming!
"Qingliu..." Mu Xinrong shouted hoarsely with a heavy nasal tone and uncontrollable sobs, like a young animal that had been lost for a long time and finally saw its owner, full of dependence and grievance.
Ye Qingliu's gaze lingered for about two seconds on Mu Xinrong's wet and messy hair, pale and haggard face, bloodshot eyes, and the ill-fitting, water-stained hospital gown.
Deep in the gray-blue eyes behind the lenses, beneath the absolutely calm surface, there seemed to be an extremely subtle fluctuation, like the cracking of ice - not pity, but more like the cold and disapproving assessment when seeing a precious object being damaged.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly, and this subtle change in expression was particularly clear on his icy face, with a look of disapproval as if to say, "How did you get yourself into this state?"
But this disagreement was only a fleeting expression. Ye Qingliu's gaze passed over Mu Xinrong and fell on Chao Youye, who lay unconscious on the hospital bed.
His gaze was like the most precise probe, quickly sweeping over Chao Youye's gray face, the ventilator, and various tubes, and finally, it stopped at the inside of Chao Youye's pale wrist that was exposed on the edge of the bed - the faded, gray, and complicated record.
Ye Qingliu's gaze lingered on the mark for about three seconds. Deep within his gray-blue eyes, it seemed as if an extremely complex data stream was calculating, analyzing, and colliding at a high speed, too fast to be grasped.
There was no exaggerated change in his expression, and his face was still calm, but Mu Xinrong had a strange feeling that the suffocating sense of despair around him seemed to be dispelled and suppressed by a powerful and rational force under Ye Qingliu's scrutiny.
It seems that no matter how chaotic the situation is, as long as Ye Qingliu starts "analyzing", there will definitely be a possibility of solving it.
Ye Qingliu walked in. His leather shoes made a crisp and steady sound on the tiles, and each step felt like it was stepping on a solid foundation.
He didn't look at Mu Xinrong, but walked straight to the bed, stopping just one step away. He lowered his head slightly and observed Chao Youye's condition more closely.
The slender fingers stretched out from the coat pocket, without directly touching the patient, but just hovering about ten centimeters above Chao Youye's forehead, pausing for a few seconds, as if sensing the invisible temperature field.
Then, he turned his gaze to the ECG monitor, scanned the ventilator's parameters, and his fingertips moved extremely slightly in the air, as if he was calculating some complex life equation in his mind.
The whole action was calm and professional, with a convincing sense of control.
Mu Xinrong's heart strangely came back to reality little by little under Ye Qingliu's silent "scan".
He struggled to get up from the ground, but his hands and feet were stiff and numb from the long period of cold and tension.
Ye Qingliu seemed to have eyes on his back. He slowly turned around and his gaze fell back on Mu Xinrong who was trying to stand up.
Seeing Mu Xinrong stumbling clumsily, the slight wrinkle on his brow seemed to deepen.
"The ground is cold." Ye Qingliu spoke, his voice still cold and steady, like the sound of jade hitting each other, but in this cold clinic, it carried a strange, unquestionable warmth and concern.
He raised his chin towards the row of relatively clean plastic chairs along the wall of the observation room and said, "Go sit over there."
The tone was declarative, with Ye Qingliu's unique sense of self-righteousness that made it impossible for you to refute.
It's not an inquiry, it's an arrangement. It's the care between friends without any formalities.
Mu Xinrong's nose felt sore, and he almost cried again. He stopped trying to be stubborn, and hummed softly, "Hmm," like an obedient child. He held onto the wall and slowly moved to a chair and sat down.
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