As the only person who knows that Xu Zhuohua comes from the future, Xu Shinong understands Xu Zhuohua's inner struggles and knows how difficult it is for the two of them to be together.
But separating is like a slow death, and being together means being separated again. What is the way to ensure that both people can live a normal life?
Xu Shinong knew that Xu Zhuohua was trying to find a way to survive without Cheng Muyun, but she hadn't found one yet, and the process was too painful for her.
Otherwise, Xu Zhuohua wouldn't have willingly hidden here, away from Cheng Muyun. Xu Shinong knew in his heart how much she loved Cheng Muyun.
The kitchen still smelled of cooking after the meal, so Xu Shinong kept Doctor Liu behind alone.
His thin fingers gently caressed the edge of the octagonal table, his fingertips tracing a tiny crack on the surface, before he spoke in a hoarse voice: "Doctor Liu, what exactly is wrong with Zhuohua?"
Doctor Liu stroked his gray beard, his brows furrowed into a deep frown, and after a long while shook his head heavily: "Master, to be honest, this child has been weak since childhood. At the very time when he was growing and developing his strength and blood, how much hardship did he endure by eating and sleeping outdoors? Now his foundation has been damaged again. It is already an incredible stroke of luck that he was able to be snatched from the jaws of death."
He paused, his voice deepening, "There's no other way right now but to rest and slowly endure it, and see if we can catch our breath."
Xu Shi Nong's brows furrowed even more instantly, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes looked as if someone had ripped them out hard.
Those six years in the temple...
At an age when she should be living a life of luxury and elegance, Zhuohua instead ate cold, hard cornbread by the ancient temple and the dim light of the lamp, enduring one cold winter after another by the sound of the morning bell and evening drum.
Those six years of suffering were etched into my very bones.
He closed his eyes and forced back the bitter taste rising in his throat.
Oh well, it's all fate.
“Let her rest quietly then.” When he opened his eyes, there was a hint of determination in them. “Whatever tonics or medicinal herbs she needs, ginseng, bird’s nest, snow lotus… just write down the prescription, and I’ll have someone send them from the city tonight. We can’t let her suffer any more.”
Doctor Liu waved his hand: "The last few times Chen Hede came, he sent over tonics like water. He had everything from deer antler and donkey-hide gelatin to Western tonics. There are still plenty in the warehouse. He really doesn't need anything."
"Chen Hede?" Xu Shinong's eyebrows furrowed again, and his knuckles tapped the edge of the table with a dull sound.
He knew Chen Hede would come often, but he didn't expect him to be this attentive.
What's this kid up to?
Everyone in Xinhai City knows that Police Chief Zhu Zhishui has been instrumental in Chen Hede's rise from a street thug to a rising star in the business world.
Not to mention that the Zhu family also has a precious daughter who is about to reach the age of marriage—it is already common knowledge in the city that Zhu Zhishui wants to recruit Chen Hede as his son-in-law, and even the newspaper boy on the street can talk about it.
Chen Hede is currently at the height of his career; it would be too slow to call him a rising star in Xinhai City, as he is clearly poised to soar to great heights.
Zhu Zhishui has put so much effort into promoting him, how could she just stand by and watch him waste his time on other women?
We absolutely cannot let the news that Xu Zhuohua is still alive get out.
Xu Shi Nong's gaze fell on the crooked willow tree by the kitchen door, her voice tinged with inquiry: "What is Zhuo Hua's attitude towards Chen He De?"
Dr. Liu, who had practiced medicine for many years, disliked getting involved in such trivial matters, but at this moment, looking at the bowl of cold medicine soup on the stove, he sighed softly.
"Don't you know how the young master is? She's indifferent to everyone, not even bothering to lift her eyelids. Let alone Chen Hede, even if a gold ingot fell from the sky, she probably wouldn't give it a second glance."
He paused, as if remembering something, and added, "But every time Mr. Chen comes, after delivering the things, he stands at the gate for a while, and his eyes... seem to be like he owes the young master something, and he has to do something to feel at ease."
Xu Shi Nong then slowly loosened her clenched hand, and blood slowly seeped from the white spots on her knuckles.
He gazed out the window at the apricot grove rustling in the wind, and the tangled mess in his heart that had been there for so long finally began to unravel a little.
As long as Zhuohua doesn't have this person in her heart, that's fine.
After finishing her conversation with Dr. Liu, Xu Shinong moved heavily up to the second floor.
The wooden door was ajar, and the paper windowpanes trembled slightly in the draft. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. "Zhuohua, it's Father."
There was no response from inside, so he pushed the door open and went in.
The house was simpler than I had imagined, with almost no furnishings—just a bed, a table, a chair, and a cabinet.
What really caught my eye were the newspapers scattered all over the table and the floor.
The smell of ink mixed with the dust seeping in through the window cracks, creating a stuffy atmosphere in the air.
Every corner of the newspaper was carefully cut out, and without exception, Cheng Muyun's photo was printed on it.
Xu Shih-nong squatted down and gently brushed her fingertips across a newspaper stained with tears.
Cheng Muyun's eyebrows and eyes were mostly blurred, but some sharp features could still be seen.
He could almost picture countless late nights when Xu Zhuohua sat in this chair, using the dim light of the oil lamp to trace the people in the photographs with his fingertips, from their eyebrows to their chins, from their straight noses to their tightly pursed lips.
The tenderness and resentment hidden deep in her heart, the sobs churning in her throat, the countless impulses to rush out the door—all of these were ultimately suppressed within this small space.
Xu Zhuohua opened the paper and took out a fountain pen.
Xu Shi Nong snapped back to reality and looked up to see her sitting on that rickety chair.
Her gaze had just returned from the window to a pond in the dry season, where withered lotus leaves clung crookedly to the ice, like countless hands reaching towards the sky.
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