She was the only one left in the huge apartment. Sitting by the window, she was lost in thought. Her cell phone kept ringing, with Dongya's name on it.
"Ouyang," the other party said, "something happened at my dad's company, so he might not be able to go back for a while. I'd like you to keep an eye on the system."
She turned on her computer. She had already mastered the secret of management. In fact, it was just to ignore the small things and let the big things take their course.
"Um."
After hanging up the phone, she looked out at the night view. The hazy night made everything seem so brilliant, like a photo frozen on the screen, motionless.
She got up and went to the study to read the book that would help her relax. When she came out, she found that the door to the living room was ajar. She didn't remember when she had left, so how did the door open?
As she walked towards the door, she saw a man sitting on the sofa by the window.
Ji Ou leaned on the sofa, glanced at her, and twisted a cigarette in his hand.
Besides the faint smell of cigarette smoke, Ouyang's sharp nose also detected the smell of blood. It was the smell emanating from Ji Ou's shoulder. It was obvious that he was injured.
"What happened to you?" I felt nervous for the first time and leaned over to look at his clothes with a hole in it. "Gunshot wound?" The wound looked very deep. He could no longer lift his right hand, but just hung it down to the side, as if waiting for its owner to decide its next fate.
He blew some tobacco from his mouth, which floated in the air. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. He looked into her eyes and said, "Can you do me a favor?" At his feet was a black bag, which might contain something he needed.
"Let's go to the hospital," she said worriedly. She saw a drop of blood drip from his fingertips onto the carpet and was quickly absorbed. "What if it gets infected?"
He took a final drag of his cigarette and looked at her without a doubt: "It's best not to let anyone know I'm here."
There was no way out, as he was very determined to let her help him treat his wounds.
The music in the room was played loudly, and the room was filled with the smell of disinfectant. Ji Ou, who was lying on the sofa, opened his eyes and saw Ouyang already slumped on the ground, sweating profusely.
When he opened his eyes again, he was still in the same position, but the pain after the anesthetic wore off made him feel a little uncomfortable. The carpet was gone, the window was open a crack, and there were ping-pong sounds in the kitchen.
Ouyang had cooked porridge and was pouring the sticky stuff from the pot into a large bowl. There were already several pre-fried dishes on the table. She didn't notice Ji Ou was behind her. After she finished tidying up everything, she turned around and saw that he was already sitting at the table, staring at her intently.
"Why did you get up?" Ouyang glanced at his hand, as if to make sure it was still safe on his body. "It's just right, you can eat something." She hesitated, but still suggested, "We should take you to the hospital later to avoid any problems later."
Ji Ou picked up the chopsticks with his clumsy left hand: "Based on my experience, there is no problem."
She changed a spoon for him and put more porridge and vegetables in. She remembered that when she treated his wound just now, she found that he had many other wounds on his body, and the scars left by those wounds looked no lighter than this one.
He ate well and was not shy about pointing out the pros and cons of the food. Ouyang didn't have high requirements for food, as long as it was nutritious and healthy, he didn't have too high requirements for the taste.
After eating, Ji Ou returned to his original seat, took a pill, and lay down again.
"There is a room inside. You can sleep in it." Ouyang said when he saw that he had no intention of leaving.
He didn't mind the sofa in the living room and said, "It's nice here, you should go and have some rest." It was almost midnight, and Ji Ou didn't want to trouble her anymore after tormenting her for so long.
She went back to her room, took a shower, blew her hair, lay down and fell asleep quickly.
By the time she got up, it was already past ten in the morning. She went to the living room first to confirm that Ji Ou, who had stayed with her yesterday, had no fever or infection.
But she found that the sofa in the living room was empty. She thought he had gone to the guest room, but there was no one there either. The whole room became quiet again, as if nothing had happened. She thought Ji Ou must have gone to the hospital. Maybe she wanted him to leave so that she could find a good doctor to check if the wound was infected.
These past few days, she'd been free again. When she had free time, she'd go to the courtyard to help Aunt Lin tend to the yard and hang out with the paintings and calligraphy in the house. Zhuo Qiang's company was back on track, and he was spending more time at home. Every day, he'd meet up with a few friends, attending one banquet or another, and always coming home smelling strongly of alcohol.
Aunt Lin said that her young master should find a new wife this time so that he wouldn't come home drunk every day.
"Aunt Lin," Ouyang said jokingly, "This time, let Uncle Zhuo find a celebrity. It would be best if it's your favorite Rong'er, so you don't have to stare at the TV all day long."
Aunt Lin laughed. She was a person who rarely laughed, but she was always happy whenever Ouyang was around.
On several occasions, Grandpa and Grandma Zhuo asked Ouyang to visit them, and the main topic of discussion was Zhuo Qiang's next marriage. What she didn't expect was that Uncle Zhuo was actually in love with an actress under his management, but that person was not Rong Er, and her age was much different from Uncle Zhuo.
"Ouyang," Grandma Zhuo held her hand, "Your Uncle Zhuo doesn't listen to us either. Go and help us persuade him, otherwise he will make the same mistake again."
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