When the entire pair of glasses finally left Ye Qingliu's face and was firmly held by Sun Guixiang's skinny fingers, she breathed a long, silent sigh of relief as if she had completed an extremely sacred and arduous task.
There was even a layer of fine beads of sweat on his forehead.
She held the lightweight yet priceless pair of glasses in both hands, as if they were some rare treasure, and carefully placed them on the small wooden stool next to him, next to his folded dark blue school uniform.
The silver frame still glowed coldly under the dim light, but at this moment, it was no longer an isolating barrier.
Sun Guixiang's gaze immediately returned to the young man sleeping in the chair.
Without the obstruction of the glasses, the face leaning back in the chair and sleeping was completely and unreservedly revealed to her.
Without the cold light reflected by the lenses and the hard lines of the metal frame, the face appeared astonishingly, defenselessly pure and childish under the dim warm light.
His gray-blue eyes were gently covered by his eyelids, and his long, thick eyelashes were like small fans, casting a clearer shadow under his eyes. His nose was still high, but it was less sharp and more gentle, a characteristic of youth.
After the glasses were removed, the furrowed brows seemed to relax a little, and the lines of his entire face relaxed. His lips parted slightly, exhaling warm breaths.
Sun Guixiang's cloudy eyes lit up instantly, as if she had discovered some rare treasure.
She couldn't help but move closer to take a closer look.
"Ouch..." She let out a very light sigh full of amazement, her cracked lips slightly opened, and the wrinkles on her face stretched out with great joy.
"Look...how handsome...even more handsome than the fairy boy in the painting...just fell asleep like this..." Her voice was very low, with a thick accent and undisguised pride.
The dim light streamed across his cool, pale skin, as if coated with a layer of warm jade. A few strands of his long, black hair, slightly damp with sweat, stuck to his smooth, full forehead.
As Sun Guixiang watched, she couldn't help but reach out her hand again and very gently and carefully brushed away the few strands of hair on his forehead that were wet with sweat.
Inevitably, her fingertips touched his slightly cool skin for a very brief moment.
Ye Qingliu's breathing remained steady, without any sign of being disturbed.
She just stood quietly beside the chair, and the bamboo stool made a very slight creaking sound.
The air in the hut seemed thick and warm. Time lost its meaning, leaving only the steady breathing of the young man in the chair and the silent watchful eyes of the old man under the lamp.
After a while, Sun Guixiang's eyes fell on his hand that was still loosely resting on the edge of the coarse porcelain bowl.
The hand was slender, pale, and bony, and even under the warm yellow light it gave off a fragile coldness.
"My hands are still so cold..." Sun Guixiang muttered to herself softly, her brows wrinkled habitually with a look of heartache.
Sun Guixiang remembered the time in the hospital when she held his cold hand in the same way, wanting to transfer her warmth to him.
Her skinny hand, extremely naturally and with unquestionable tenderness, gently covered the hand on the edge of the bowl, carefully moved it away from the cold coarse porcelain bowl, and then carefully wrapped it with her own hands.
Sun Guixiang's skinny fingers, with calloused fingertips, carefully and gently stroked Ye Qingliu's cold back of the hand and slightly cool fingertips, as if this could dispel the chill that penetrated deep into his bones.
She felt the slightly cool touch under her palm, her cloudy eyes filled with worry.
"This child... is still weak..." She muttered softly, as if she was talking to the sleeping boy, or as if she was talking to herself, "Just drinking some mung bean soup is not enough to nourish him... He needs to be taken care of..."
She gently rubbed his hand, trying to convey more warmth, and began to think, her voice slow and chatty, full of the flavor of life:
"Tomorrow... tomorrow morning I'll go to Old Liu's place. His hens are the fattest, and the soup they make is the most nourishing... I'll also add some astragalus and codonopsis... they're all good things, they replenish qi..."
"Oh, by the way, Aunt Zhang's free-range eggs at the Dongtou Vegetable Market have really yellow yolks. I'll buy some too...and steamed egg custard. They're so tender, the kids will definitely love them..."
"This chair... is too hard. My neck will hurt if I sleep on it for too long..." Her eyes swept over his tilted neck, and her brows furrowed again.
"I need to find a softer cushion... I need to save some money and see if I can buy a reclining chair with a backrest..."
Her voice was soft and slow, with a strong rural accent and a peculiar sense of rhythm.
Those trivial matters, about food, clothing, housing and transportation, and plans on how to raise a "child", flowed in this quiet little house, weaving into a warm and solid net, gently enveloping the boy sleeping on the chair.
Ye Qingliu was still sleeping, breathing evenly.
But deep down, where he was unaware, at the edge of the frozen core of his consciousness that was strictly guarded by rules, this nagging, worldly whisper seeped in silently like the gentlest stream.
It was as if some stubborn ice was softening extremely slightly under the continuous, warm sound wave vibrations, so slightly that even the most sophisticated instruments could not detect it.
As Sun Guixiang spoke, her gaze fell back on Ye Qingliu's defenseless sleeping face.
"It feels so good to fall asleep..." She sighed softly, her voice filled with complete relief and an almost pious sense of guardianship.
"He's much better behaved than when he's awake... When he's awake, he always has a sullen face, like a little old man..."
Sun Guixiang couldn't help but stretch out her finger and very gently touched the corners of his relaxed lips with her fingertips, as if trying to smooth out the tense lines that didn't exist at all and only appeared when he was awake.
Her skinny hands still stubbornly and gently wrapped around his slightly cold hands, conveying her constant warmth.
"Go to sleep... Sleep well..." Sun Guixiang's voice became softer and gentler, like the oldest lullaby, "Grandma will stay with you... She won't go anywhere..."
Her cloudy eyes reflected the dim light and the silhouette of the boy sleeping on the chair, filled with complete tenderness and a tranquility that came from experiencing vicissitudes of life.
Outside, the hustle and bustle of the summer night continues.
Inside the house, time seemed to stand still.
There was only the dim light, the old man's murmuring, the boy's even breathing, and the pair of rough hands, stubbornly and gently covering a slightly cold hand.
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