Chapter 52
The lights in the room were turned on, and the whole room was brightly lit.
Xia Yang's room was slightly smaller than Xia Wan's, but its furnishings were identical, minus the lovely little touches of a young girl's room. There was a single bed, a wooden desk and chair, a simple wardrobe, and a pot of thriving pothos on the windowsill, adding a touch of life to the room. The air was filled with the clean scent of sun-dried bedding and the faint, youthful air of youth.
Zhou Wenjuan had already changed into clean sheets and quilt covers. Although they were a little worn, they were well-washed and exuded the delicate fragrance of soap nuts. She said to Jiang Yu a little awkwardly, "Xiao Jiang, this room is small and the bed is hard. It's not as good as your usual room... I'll have to bear with you for one night. The bathroom is down the hall, and the water heater will take a while to run. I've put towels and a new toothbrush on the bedside table."
"Auntie, you're so kind. It's nice and quiet here. Thank you." Jiang Yu nodded slightly, his tone sincere, without a trace of reluctance. He glanced at the robot models and basketball star posters on the desk, and the corners of his mouth curled up almost imperceptibly. "Xia Yang has a wide range of interests."
Seeing that he really didn't mind, Zhou Wenjuan felt relieved and gave him a few more instructions before closing the door and leaving.
The room suddenly fell silent. Only the occasional faint sound of bicycle bells drifting in from outside the window and the distant hustle and bustle of the city, which seemed distant and gentle through the glass.
Jiang Yu walked over to the desk and gently brushed his fingers across the surface, finding it dust-free. He noticed a few photos pressed against the glass panel. Besides the family photo he'd seen in the living room, there was also a graduation photo of Xia Yang and his classmates, and a photo of Xia Wan and Xia Yang. In the photo, Xia Wan looked younger, probably from college. She was hugging her younger brother, who was now half a head taller than her. They smiled carefreely at the camera, their bodies radiating sunshine.
His gaze lingered on the photo of his brother and sister for a moment before he slowly walked over to the bed and sat down. After the long journey from Jinzhou to Jincheng, and the emotional turmoil at the cemetery, the dull ache in his injuries gradually became more pronounced. Pains shot through his right shoulder blade and ribs, and a fine layer of cold sweat formed on his forehead. He subconsciously tried to adjust the brace, but the awkward angle strained the injured area. He couldn't help but groan and frown.
Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door.
"Jiang Yu?" It was Xia Wan's voice, with a hint of temptation.
"Hmm? Xia Wan? Come in."
The door opened, and Xia Wan walked in, carrying a light-colored plastic storage box neatly packed with iodine, cotton swabs, gauze, and medical tape. "Did you bring your own ointment? I'll change the dressing for you," she said, her gaze falling on his slightly pale face and the sweat on his forehead. Concern immediately filled her eyes. "Does the wound hurt?"
"It's okay." Jiang Yu tried to hide it out of habit, but his body's reaction couldn't be faked.
Xia Wan placed the medicine box on the desk, turned on the desk lamp, walked to the bedside, and frowned slightly: "Don't force it. The doctor said that post-recovery is very important. It will be very troublesome if it gets infected or doesn't heal well." Her tone was full of unquestionable persistence. It was the kind of calmness and professionalism that belonged to "Xia Gong", but it was also mixed with obvious concern.
Jiang Yu looked at her and didn't refute. He just nodded slightly: "Sorry for the trouble. The ointment is in the coat pocket."
Xia Wan pulled the chair over to the desk, sat down beside the bed, and gestured for him to turn around. "You need to take off your coat and inner clothing, or... at least expose your right shoulder." She tried to keep her tone calm and professional, but her ears couldn't help but blush slightly. Despite their previous intimacy, in this sober moment, even with a touch of "patient and nurse," such direct skin contact still made her feel a little shy and nervous.
Jiang Yu noticed her discomfort, and he felt a bit embarrassed himself. He cooperated silently, first unbuttoning his windbreaker with his left hand, with some difficulty, and then slipping it off beside the bed. Underneath was a soft, dark gray cashmere sweater. He tried to lift his right arm to remove the sweater, but as soon as he moved, a sharp pain in his shoulder blade made his face turn pale and he gasped.
"Don't move! Let me do it!" Xia Wan immediately held down his left arm to stop him from moving.
She stood up, leaned over, and carefully helped him pull the hem of his sweater, trying to avoid touching his injured area. "Try not to use too much force. Go with my strength and take your time." Her voice was close, and her breath gently brushed against his ear, carrying her unique, light fragrance.
Jiang Yu followed her instructions and relaxed, matching her movements. It was a bit clumsy, the collar of his cashmere sweater brushing against his chin and hair. They both held their breath, the air thick with a subtle mixture of tension and intimacy.
Finally, the sweater was successfully removed, leaving only a close-fitting white cotton vest underneath. The bandages and brace were clearly visible, wrapped around his broad, yet significantly thinner, back. A faint yellow stain of medicine could be seen at the edge of the gauze at his right shoulder blade.
Xia Wan's heart sank. She moved around behind him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to better maneuver. Her eyes fell on the bandages, and her movements became gentler.
"I'm going to remove the gauze. It might be a little sticky. Just tell me if it hurts." She whispered, as if giving a preview, or as if cheering herself up.
"Yeah." Jiang Yu murmured, turning his back to her and closing his eyes. He could feel her cool fingers carefully peeling back the medical tape, followed by the subtle clatter of gauze being peeled back layer by layer. The smell of disinfectant filled the air.
When the last layer of gauze was removed and the wound was completely exposed to the air, Xia Wan couldn't help but gasp.
Even though some time had passed and the wound had been cleaned and sutured, the skin was still red and swollen. The stitches lay like a centipede beneath the shoulder blade, surrounded by large, interlaced bruises that extended all the way to the ribs. It was a shocking sight. One could only imagine how heavy and terrifying the impact had been.
Her fingertips trembled slightly, and her nose suddenly felt sore. Although she had seen the wound many times in the hospital, as the nurses had glimpsed it while changing Jiang Yu's dressings, seeing it so directly now still made her heart ache. It seemed as if she replayed that critical moment before her eyes, when he pounced like a cheetah, using his body to block the blow for her. The shock and fear that followed, along with the hideous wound, surged back.
She took a deep breath, forcing down the sob in her throat and the heat in her eyes. Now was not the time to cry; she had come to help him change the dressing.
She used tweezers to pick up a cotton ball soaked in iodine and gently wiped the skin around the wound bit by bit to disinfect it. Her attention was highly focused, and every movement was cautious, for fear of hurting him.
The iodine tincture touched his skin, bringing a slight coolness and irritation. Jiang Yu's body tensed imperceptibly for a moment, and his breathing stagnated, but he made no sound, only silently clenching his left hand on his knee.
Xia Wan noticed it immediately, paused, and said nervously, "Did it hurt you?"
"No." Jiang Yu's voice was a little hoarse, "You continue, it's okay."
Xia Wan moved even more gently, wiping and unconsciously blowing on the wound, as if that could dispel the pain. The warm breath brushed against the sensitive skin around the wound, bringing a strange, slightly itchy shudder.
Jiang Yu's Adam's apple rolled, and his clenched left hand slowly loosened. An indescribable feeling spread from the wound. It wasn't pain, but a warm feeling of being cherished and carefully cared for, slowly seeping into every part of his body, relaxing his tense nerves bit by bit.
The room was silent, the only sounds being the gentle pat of a cotton ball scraping across her skin and her carefully subdued breathing. The warm yellow glow of the desk lamp cast their shadows on the clean wall, interweaving them together.
After disinfecting, Xia Wan picked up the ointment, scooped out a little with her fingertips, and carefully applied it to the sutured wound and the surrounding red and swollen skin. Her fingertips were warm and soft, carrying the ointment's slightly cool touch. She gently rubbed the wound in circles, promoting absorption while also silently smoothing the hideous scars.
Her touch was light and expert, avoiding the sensitive sutures as much as possible. But that delicate, soothing touch was like a silent ignition for the two, who had not experienced intimate physical contact for a long time.
Jiang Yu could clearly feel every movement of her fingertips, the subtle pressure and rotation, like a feather gently scratching his skin, scratching his heart. The lines of his back involuntarily tensed and relaxed, and his breathing gradually became deep and slow. He closed his eyes, and all his senses seemed to focus on the tiny contact of her fingertips.
The air was filled with the faint scent of iodine and ointment, and the sound of each other's breathing became increasingly clear. A silent, dense intimacy slowly flowed through the small space, tightly enveloping the two of them.
Xia Wan was equally overcome with emotion. Beneath her fingertips lay his warm skin, the firm texture of his muscles, the bulging shoulder blade, and the heartbreaking scars he'd sustained for her. Her heartbeat was rapid, her cheeks burning, and she could only force herself to focus completely on the task of "changing the dressing," daring not to allow any distracting thoughts to escape.
Finally, the ointment was evenly applied. She picked up a new gauze, carefully covered the wound, and then secured it with medical tape. Every step was done with care and concentration.
"Alright." She breathed out softly, as if she had completed an extremely important task. A fine layer of sweat oozed from her forehead. She helped him pull up his vest to avoid touching the wound that had just been bandaged. Then she took the soft cashmere sweater and said, "Raise your hand...slowly."
This time, Jiang Yu matched her movements and put the sweater back on. The process was still slow, but much smoother than when he took it off.
After finishing all this, Xia Wan packed up her medicine box but didn't leave immediately. She looked at Jiang Yu's still pale face and asked softly, "How do you feel? Is it still painful?"
Jiang Yu slowly turned around and faced her. His eyes were deep, filled with complex emotions: exhaustion after the pain, tenderness after being carefully cared for by her, and a deep, almost drowning concentration.
"Much better." He whispered, his eyes falling on her cheeks that were flushed with nervousness and concentration. "Thank you, Xia Wan."
His thanks were very serious, not just for the dressing change.
Xia Wan shook her head, avoiding his overly scorching gaze, and lowered her head to organize the medicine box: "It's my duty. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't..."
"Xia Wan." Jiang Yu interrupted her, his voice low and firm, "That was my own choice. I would make the same choice at any time."
Xia Wan raised her head and met his bottomless eyes. The seriousness and determination in them shook her heart, and all the words were stuck in her throat.
The two of them stared at each other silently. The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a shadowy hue on his face, softening his stern features. A silent tension permeated the air once again.
Suddenly, Jiang Yu gently raised his left hand, crossed the short distance between the two of them, and his warm fingertips touched Xia Wan's cheek very gently - there was a very tiny trace of ointment there, which had been applied at some unknown time.
His fingertips were slightly cool from having the medicine applied, but they felt extremely hot to the touch.
Xia Wan's body suddenly stiffened, as if struck by a tiny electric current, and her heart skipped a beat. She stared at him blankly, forgetting to dodge.
Jiang Yu's fingertips gently wiped the small spot on her cheek, his movements filled with an almost pious tenderness. His gaze remained fixed on hers, as if he wanted to see through her pupils into the depths of her soul.
The brief touch was fleeting, but he seemed to be reluctant to leave. His fingertips lingered on her cheek for a moment before slowly withdrawing.
"It got stained with a little ointment." He explained in a low voice, his voice a little hoarse.
"...Oh." Xia Wan came back to her senses, her cheeks instantly flushed, as if on fire. She subconsciously raised her hand to rub the spot, her heart pounding like a drum. She looked away in panic, not daring to look at him again.
The ambiguous atmosphere lingers and ferments in the air like a substance.
"You...you should rest." Xia Wan stood up suddenly, picked up the medicine box, and spoke quickly, "Call me if you need anything. I'm in the room across the street."
After saying that, he left the room almost as if he was fleeing, closing the door gently.
Jiang Yu sat alone by the bed, watching her hurriedly leave and disappear behind the door. The air seemed to still linger with her fragrance and the warmth of her fingertips. He slowly raised his left hand and rubbed his fingertips together, as if he could still feel the delicate and warm touch of her cheek skin.
His deep gaze turned toward the window. The low roofs of Jincheng's old town rose and fell, the lights of countless houses shone in a tranquil and distant light. The wounds on his shoulders and back still ached dully, but deep within a cold and lonely corner of his heart, a warm current seemed to flow from those gentle, attentive hands, healing the old rifts.
He slowly lay down, careful not to press on his right shoulder. The single bed was indeed a bit hard, and the pillow exuded the clean scent of sunshine and soap nuts, as well as a very faint, warm and stable atmosphere that belonged to this home.
He closed his eyes, and what came to his mind was Xia Wan kneeling behind him, holding her breath and concentrating on changing the dressing for him, her drooping, slightly trembling eyelashes, and her fingertips so gentle as if afraid of breaking anything.
And her red cheeks and flashing eyes when she finally ran away in panic.
A very faint, almost imperceptible arc crept up the corners of his tightly pursed lips.
On the other side of the door, Xia Wan leaned against the cold wall, her hands covering her still-burning cheeks, her heart still beating violently in her chest. Her fingertips seemed to still retain the warmth of his skin and the texture of his muscles.
She looked down at her fingers, which seemed to still smell of ointment. A complex mixture of heartache, shyness, and some indescribable throbbing emotions overwhelmed her like a tide.
Outside the window, the night is deep, and the lights of thousands of homes in Jincheng illuminate the dark night.
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