Sun Guixiang was stunned for a moment, then she waved her hands repeatedly, a smile on her face: "Eat it, eat it! I've eaten it! Watching you eat is more delicious than anything I eat myself!"
She rubbed her skinny hands subconsciously, as if to rub off the cake flour on her hands, or as if to hide her inner excitement.
She looked at Ye Qingliu's hand placed on the white sheets - pale, slender, with distinct knuckles, but due to blood loss and weakness, there was an lingering chill, and even the fingernails were a faint bluish-white.
A feeling of heartache suddenly gripped Sun Guixiang's heart.
This child, why are his hands so cold? The heating in the ward is clearly sufficient!
She didn't even think about it, her body almost moving faster than her brain.
The hand that had just been rubbed, with her body temperature and rough palm lines, reached out very naturally, and gently, with an unquestionable sense of care, covered the back of Ye Qingliu's hand that was resting outside the quilt.
"Why are your hands so cold?" She frowned and spoke with a thick accent, her tone full of genuine worry.
"Is the heating not enough? Or is it too cold?"
As she spoke, she very naturally wrapped her warm and rough palms around Ye Qingliu's cold fingers, rubbing them carefully and gently, trying to transfer her warmth to them.
His movements were so familiar that it seemed as if he had done them a thousand times, just like when he was in the fields, holding his hands to warm his little grandson's frozen hands and feet.
The warm, calloused, rough feeling on the palm of my hand came over me unexpectedly and without any obstruction.
Ye Qingliu's whole body suddenly froze.
That withered, warm hand, like a warm stone with the scent of the countryside, tightly wrapped around his cold fingers.
The rough texture of the skin rubbed against his slightly cool, sensitive knuckles, bringing an extremely strange, extremely direct, and even somewhat brutal touch.
The heat, the roughness, the contact without any distance, was like a surging warm current, or a blinding bright light, instantly penetrating his habitual barrier of alienation.
The gray-blue eyes behind the lenses suddenly contracted, and a clear look of surprise and shock flashed across the depths of the pupils.
He almost reflexively wanted to pull his hand back - that was the body's instinctive defense against unknown close contact.
However, just as his fingertips moved slightly and his muscles tensed, he saw Sun Guixiang's face.
There was no trace of calculation or flattery on that deeply wrinkled face, only complete and pure worry and heartache.
Her cloudy eyes stared intently at his wrapped hands, her brows furrowed, as if the coldness of his fingertips was her biggest enemy at the moment.
Her kneading movements were so careful, yet with a clumsy, instinctive gentle strength, as if she was holding not a young boy's hand, but a piece of easily broken ice.
The faint twitching of his fingertips froze in mid-motion.
The habitual ice wall of rejection that suddenly emerged in my heart strangely and silently melted a corner under the gaze of those turbid eyes filled with pure concern.
The movement of pulling away was suppressed by a more complex emotion that he himself had not yet clearly understood.
He stiffly let the rough, warm hand wrap around his fingers, feeling the strange, continuous warmth coming from him.
The body still maintained the original posture, neither responding nor trying to break free.
But after the shock, a deep, incomprehensible undercurrent surged in those gray-blue eyes, like a turbulent undercurrent beneath the calm ice surface.
His long eyelashes trembled slightly, revealing that his heart was not completely calm.
His thin lips were pressed into a straight line, and his jawline seemed to be stretched even tighter, as if he was silently enduring this overly direct and overly hot warmth.
The air in the ward seemed to freeze for a moment, and the dust particles flying in the sunlight stopped.
Only Sun Guixiang was completely oblivious. She continued to rub the back of his hands and knuckles intently, muttering softly, "Warm them up...Warm them up and they'll be warm... Your hands are so cold, it hurts just looking at them..."
Just then—
"Bang!"
The ward door was pushed open with great force, hitting the wall with a dull thud.
"elder brother--!"
A sweet voice, like ice-hardened pink crystal, suddenly broke the strange warm current flowing silently in the ward.
Hua Jinyue stood at the door.
She was wearing an intricate dark blue Gothic Lolita dress today, with layers of lace and ribbons making her look like an exquisite doll.
Her pink twintails were still swaying slightly from her hurried movements, but her face, as pretty as a porcelain doll, was now covered in frost.
Those big eyes that always burned with complex emotions now only contained raging rage and incredible astonishment, fixed on the glaring scene in front of the bed.
Her brother, the one who was always distant, always pure, with even his fingertips showing the coldness of jade, actually... actually let that dirty old woman in shabby old clothes... hold his hand?!
"What are you doing?!" she demanded, rushing to the bedside in a few steps, her pink skirt drawing a sharp arc.
She didn't even look at Sun Guixiang. Her big eyes burning with anger only stared at Ye Qingliu, and her voice rose and trembled with anger and grievance.
"Brother! Who is she?! Why did she touch you?! Take your hand away!"
She yelled the last sentence at Sun Guixiang with undisguised disgust.
The huge shock made Sun Guixiang tremble all over, as if she was burned by a hot iron. She suddenly retracted her hand that was holding Ye Qingliu.
His skinny palms turned cold in an instant, and he hid them behind his back awkwardly and panickily, his knuckles turning white from the force.
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