Chapter 43
Chapter 43
Ning Xin is indeed quite good-looking, but whether she's beautiful or not is irrelevant in this incident. He would have done the same for any other girl.
"It has nothing to do with beauty. If it were someone else, like Dr. Shen, I would definitely help if you were in this situation."
That's quite an interesting expression. So, he means, Dr. Shen, it has nothing to do with "beauty," right? Shen Qingyuan smiled subtly. "Then I really have to thank you."
Looking back now, Ye Chuyang still feels a bit scared. The new drama is about to start filming in just over ten days. If her back injury flares up again, it will delay the entire crew's schedule and result in huge losses.
Putting your health at such risk is unwise and unprofessional.
With so many security guards on site, even if he didn't intervene, someone would have stopped the pervert immediately; it would have only taken ten or twenty seconds.
Well, I've already helped. Fortunately, there were no serious consequences.
"Sister Chen, is Brother Yang's back alright?" Xiao Chao asked.
He didn't speak, and the two of them almost forgot that there was such a person next to them.
Shen Qingyuan hummed in agreement, "It's alright, just a minor sprain. We need to get some ice and apply it locally for 24 hours, then apply heat, or take a hot bath."
"Oh, oh," Xiao Chao recalled how Ye Chuyang's hand on his shoulder had tightened considerably when Ye Chuyang was going down the steps, "Don't you need to go to the hospital for an MRI or something?"
"That's fine too." Shen Qingyuan threw the gloves into the trash can and said casually, "If he still has the energy to cause trouble." If they act quickly, they might even run into Ning Xin and her group.
Her use of the word "fussing" has a sense of an adult watching a child being naughty and mischievous.
Ye Chuyang immediately admitted defeat, "I didn't, I didn't." Then she coldly shouted at Xiao Chao, "Go get some ice." Why give so many suggestions? He's not a doctor.
There was no ice in the hotel refrigerator. Ye Chuyang doesn't drink cold drinks all year round.
Fortunately, there was a coffee shop nearby, which should have ice on hand, so Xiao Chao happily went there.
After Xiao Chao left, the two of them fell silent in tacit agreement.
Actually, when he got onto the physiotherapy bed earlier, the movement aggravated his injury, and Ye Chuyang let out a suppressed groan.
He said it didn't hurt, so Shen Qingyuan held back from asking. After a while, she couldn't help but say, "If it hurts too much, you can take painkillers."
Damn doctors' compassion!
During the acute phase of his lumbar disc herniation, he took painkillers, but they caused side effects such as dizziness and vomiting. He tried several different medications, but they all had some degree of side effects. Eventually, he became hesitant to take them anymore.
Ye Chuyang: "Forget it, there are side effects, but I'll just bear with it. It's fine. Lying down is much more comfortable than standing."
He looked unwell, and the radiant energy he had shown at the opening ceremony was nowhere to be seen.
"Are you hungry?" Shen Qingyuan asked. "Want me to order some takeout for you?"
It was already one o'clock in the afternoon. After a chaotic morning, Shen Qingyuan only now realized that she was extremely hungry.
"Okay, we have to eat something eventually." People who are not feeling well usually don't have much of an appetite.
"How about lean meat congee?" Shen Qingyuan sat on the round stool next to the physiotherapy bed, took out her phone and browsed the restaurant list on the food delivery app. "I saw one with pretty good reviews. Or fish congee?"
When you're sick and have a poor appetite, you probably crave a bowl of porridge.
"Okay. You can arrange it as you see fit."
When he was healthy, he still had the energy to tease her, but now that he was really feeling unwell, Ye Chuyang realized that he didn't have the energy or mood for it. He just wanted to stay quiet and get better as soon as possible.
Shen Qingyuan glanced at the doorway subconsciously; Xiao Chao hadn't returned yet.
She suddenly felt a little uncomfortable, with only the two of them and no one speaking.
"Then you should rest well. I'll go back to my room first. Call me anytime if you feel unwell." Shen Qingyuan stood up. "If you apply a cold compress, 3-5 minutes each time is enough. Will that help..."
Before she could finish speaking, Ye Chuyang reached out and grabbed her, first placing his hand on her wrist, but not firmly, and it slid down to her fingertips before finally stopping.
It refers to the tail end of the finger bone; you need to use a little force to grip it firmly.
"Could you stay with me a little longer? I'm not feeling well, I feel terrible, and I want someone to be with me." The tone was unlike anything she had ever used before, even carrying a hint of pleading and childish whining.
He's not very strong right now, so it would be easy for him to break free if the other person struggled.
Shen Qingyuan was stunned.
Is his behavior regressive? When he's sick and weak, he wants someone to be with him, preferably nestled in a warm embrace.
Soothing the patient's emotions is also part of a doctor's job.
"Okay, I won't leave. You can lie down for a while." Her voice was soft. She didn't know why she had suddenly become so tender; Shen Qingyuan felt it was due to an overflow of maternal instincts.
Ye Chuyang, not wanting to push things too far, withdrew his hand.
It's fine to stay here quietly like this, just the two of us, in our own space. He knows he's safe.
I was on edge for most of the day, knowing that most of the tens of thousands of fans had come for me, traveling thousands of miles. Every move I made was under their watchful eyes. It was the sweet burden of being loved and noticed; although I'd seen many such gatherings before, I was still nervous facing them again.
I gradually calmed down and relaxed.
Ye Chuyang pointed to the table, "Dr. Chen, since you're just idling around anyway, why don't you read the script to me?"
"Okay," she said good-naturedly. "I'll read it to you. Which page should we start from?" Shen Qingyuan felt that her work ethic deserved a substantial year-end bonus. A three-month project would at least warrant a quarterly bonus.
She got up to get the script, a thick A4 sheet of paper with a simple binding. She randomly flipped to a page, which was densely covered with markings in various colors of pen, and handwritten footnotes in the margins.
His handwriting is much prettier than it was in his student days; it doesn't look like that of an elementary school student anymore.
Shen Qingyuan casually asked, "Have you practiced your handwriting?"
"Can you tell?" Ye Chuyang raised an eyebrow. "Back in college, I was thinking about becoming a star and signing autographs and giving messages to fans. It would be embarrassing if my handwriting was too ugly, so I practiced hard for a few years and it's much better than it was in high school, right?"
Shen Qingyuan hummed in response, sat down lightly, and casually flipped through the script.
He really worked very hard. Shen Qingyuan remembered that the script was still quite new when they were on the train, but in just half a month, it became worn out. He must have read it more than once, and thoroughly understood it, paying attention to the meaning between the lines. He put in a lot of effort.
Wouldn't it have been even better if this kind of hard work had been present in high school?
But then I thought about it and realized that didn't make sense. A bookworm wouldn't be thinking about singing and dancing; those are just fancy skills. Working-class kids don't grow up in an environment that encourages boys to pursue artistic careers.
Therefore, it all comes down to the times and circumstances. Times change, and people value different things.
Most people who achieve great success are those who truly have their own opinions and insights, clearly know the path they want to take, and have foresight that surpasses everyone around them.
Unconsciously, you connect with people you've known since childhood to that time and space. Ye Chuyang felt a surge of pride, then pondered for a moment, realizing that something about that statement didn't quite make sense.
"Shen Qingyuan, do you still remember the words I wrote back then?"
Shen Qingyuan's gaze remained fixed on the script, her head still on the page. "Hmm, it's pretty ugly, like a primary school student's handwriting. But... some primary school students can write quite well. To be precise, it's the handwriting of primary school students who aren't very good."
She criticized his handwriting with a serious expression, as if reciting a tongue twister. Ye Chuyang's gaze fell on her profile, and he smiled.
He always felt that in Shen Qingyuan's heart ten years ago, he was only a faint shadow, so blurry that it could shatter at any moment.
So, she remembered. She had always remembered.
-
"Shen Qingyuan, please don't leave after evening self-study. I need to talk to you about something."
The words “classmate” and “please” were added later, squeezed in and cramped together, with the revision mark on top of them.
This was the first note he gave him. The elementary school student's handwriting was crooked and messy, and the owner could only try his best to arrange them neatly.
There was no signature, but there was a flat pattern resembling a leaf.
What's going on? That was Shen Qingyuan's first reaction upon receiving the note.
There was a group run during evening self-study, and when I came back, I found this note under my books.
Who put it there?
It couldn't be the teacher. A teacher wouldn't use such a roundabout method. If you need to find her, it would be more convenient to come to the classroom directly or have a classmate pass on the message.
Shen Qingyuan looked around. Song Ting was chatting with the boy at the table behind her. Everyone else was busy with their own things, and no one was looking in her direction at the moment.
If it's a classmate you know well, you can just talk to her directly if you need something. Making it all so secretive suggests that what you're talking about isn't something you can discuss openly.
Shen Qingyuan frowned and casually put the note into her pocket. She didn't like anything that disrupted her study rhythm.
After evening self-study, she tidied up her desk briefly and put the books she would need for the next day on a large stack of books.
She didn't deliberately wait for the mysterious person. This was her habit; it allowed her to travel during off-peak hours, or come early the next morning to pick up her books and start studying. As expected, she lagged behind after getting ready.
"Shen Qingyuan." Shen Qingyuan heard a voice calling her from behind.
There weren't many people left in the classroom at this point. As far as the eye could see, there were two students in the back row, one in front of the other, walking towards the classroom door.
She turned her head and looked in the direction of the sound with a puzzled expression.
It was that boy who dragged her into the relay race.
What was her name again? She searched her memory but couldn't recall.
Actually, it's been two or three months since the start of the senior year. It's normal not to know each other's names at first, but by now, most students should be familiar with their names. Anyway, there are over fifty students, and they've been repeatedly asked questions by teachers from various subjects.
However, when the teacher asked questions, Shen Qingyuan was mostly busy with her own things, and for her, there was no point in listening to her stammering answers again.
The two people made eye contact. They were about five or six meters apart, roughly the distance of three rows of tables.
Shen Qingyuan subconsciously stopped what she was doing and stood still.
The other person moved forward a few more steps, but the steps were noticeably smaller, a tentative move, somewhat like a cat's gait.
"Is there something you need,... classmate?"
-
In the blink of an eye, the classroom was empty.
Ye Chuyang admitted that he was a little nervous. He lowered his eyes and stared at her intently.
She was very thin, but her proportions were excellent. Boys and girls going through puberty often develop a sudden, rapid roughness in their appearance, lacking refinement. Some are as thin as sticks, while others have large heads and small bodies, or vice versa.
She is not.
She has fair skin, an oval face, and almost flawless skin. Her lips are full and rosy, and she looks very healthy.
Her eyebrows were delicately defined. Her eyes were large, bright, almond-shaped. She had double eyelids with upturned corners, and when she looked at people, her expression was indifferent, yet unconsciously exuded arrogance.
Her nose was very high, and its proportions to her eyebrows, eyes, and mouth were just right.
There's nothing else to it, it's just beautiful. I want to see it more, preferably by myself. Close the door and look at it carefully.
She had rehearsed what she wanted to say in her mind dozens of times. Now, Ye Chuyang felt her heart pounding, her whole body stiff and hot. Her face was burning. Her mouth, well, it was useless. At this crucial moment, it failed her.
At eighteen, with hormones raging and having grown to 180 centimeters tall three years ago, Ye Chuyang, a high school boy, suddenly felt very insecure when he tried to make a declaration of "claiming territory".
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