When I touched the gardenia bracelet on the table.
A faint floral fragrance lingered around my nose.
Pei Yu frowned slightly, and after a long while.
He maneuvered his wheelchair away, choosing to ignore it.
...
The next morning.
Pei Yushen was always a light sleeper. He opened his eyes early in bed, his empty black pupils staring blankly at the ceiling.
After an unknown amount of time, perhaps an hour or two, the boy sat up and struggled to get into his wheelchair, which was then pushed to the toilet to wash up.
At eight o'clock, the nanny pushed open the door and brought breakfast. She was slightly surprised to see the young man who had already dressed and was sitting motionless at the table. Her surprise was quickly replaced by a warm smile: "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Young Master Pei. Breakfast is ready."
After setting down the tray, she didn't leave immediately. Instead, she softened her voice and advised, "You should eat some breakfast, otherwise your stomach will feel uncomfortable. Besides, if you don't eat, Mr. and Mrs. Pei will worry and won't be able to eat either."
The thin boy in the wheelchair remained silent.
Having said that, the nanny didn't want to say anything more to disturb the peace. She noticed that only the lights were on in the room, and the lack of natural light made it feel somewhat oppressive.
The nanny went to the window and pulled back the curtains on both sides.
Looking at the scenery outside the window, a surprised smile appeared on her face, and she exclaimed, "These flowers are blooming so beautifully."
flower?
The boy, who had been motionless like a sculpture, finally reacted and turned his head to look out the glass window.
The first thing you see is a cacophony of colors.
Pots of orange, pink, purple, blue, white, and rose-red flowers clustered outside the cobblestone path.
They were of varying heights and shapes, completely out of order, yet strangely harmonious.
The nanny is new; she didn't know that just yesterday the view outside the glass window was a pale blue.
She only sighed once before leaving the room quite consciously.
Pei Yu's dark eyes were fixed on the view outside the window.
Suddenly, a small, trembling figure entered his field of vision.
It was almost mid-June, and the air was already thick with the heat of early morning.
The little dumpling was wearing a light pink sleeveless vest, milky white cotton and linen pants, and a small straw hat on her head. She held the bottom of the flowerpot with her two little hands, and walked to the glass window with her short legs wobbling outwards. In one last burst of energy, she rushed a few steps and placed the bright blue hydrangea between the two pots.
Before she could even catch her breath, her small body suddenly stopped, as if she had discovered that the curtains in the room had finally been drawn open, and she excitedly waved to Pei Yushen inside.
Judging from her lip movements, she was probably saying good morning.
The boy watched silently, offering no response.
Chaochao outside the window didn't hear anything, but she took it as the older brother already greeting her!
Chaochao excitedly wanted to move the next pot of those little yellow flowers, but as soon as she turned around, her almond-shaped eyes suddenly widened—
A very familiar little bee buzzed its wings and flew toward her.
"Whoa!!!"
Chaochao panicked and tried to run away without thinking.
Then, he crashed headfirst into the glass.
The system cried out in alarm, "Baby, are you alright?!"
Why did you clean this glass so thoroughly? Waaaaah, my poor baby...
Chaochao plopped down on the cobblestone ground, her straw hat falling off and hanging around her neck, the fluffy hair hidden under the brim already damp.
At that moment, she was covering her head, feeling dizzy, and staring at the young man inside the glass.
Pei Yushen: "..."
The Huo family's glass should be of good quality; it shouldn't collapse, right?
The boy maneuvered his wheelchair, keeping it half a meter away from the glass window.
He wanted to die, but he didn't want to die a gruesome death.
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