Chapter 59 Treatment
Shi Yin laughed angrily.
She also discovered today that when people are speechless, they will really laugh for no apparent reason.
She took two deep breaths.
I flipped through the pages and picked out a Cinderella story.
Perhaps she was distracted by his repeated suggestions. After reciting a few sentences, Shi Yin looked up at him. Seeing him lying quietly on the hospital bed, not saying a word like a docile big dog, she continued to read.
The night is like water.
Tenderness flows in every corner of the house.
Frost flakes clung to the windowpanes. Outside, a biting cold wind and swirling snow blew, yet the room was warm and cozy. Shi Yin and Han Zhan were reflected in the window. He would occasionally play with her hair, asking what shampoo she used to keep it looking so good. He would gently touch her fingertips as she held a book, remarking on her delicate, white fingers and saying it was his fault that she hadn't entered the hand modeling industry.
He is very noisy.
Like the sparrows on the telephone poles in spring, chirping non-stop.
Shi Yin was so annoyed by his noise that she would feign a fierce look and he would be quiet for seven or eight minutes. After an unknown amount of time, the room returned to silence. Shi Yin glanced at the medicine bottle above her. The potion inside had a sleep-inducing effect, and Young Master Han finally fell asleep.
She closed the book in her hand.
Set aside.
She stood up from her chair, approached the bed, and tucked in Han Zhan's blanket. She turned off the lights in the room, leaving only the dim light of the bedside lamp. After doing this, Shi Yin turned on her phone and, as usual, browsed through fashion and design news to pass the time. The screen lit up, and the capitalized clock numbers on the main interface caught her eye. Shi Yin was stunned.
Her brows furrowed.
It seems that he doesn't believe this number.
Shi Yin looked up at the digital clock on the wall again. It was the same time as her phone: 12:30 a.m. She had started suffering from insomnia at the beginning of last year, around the time of the Lushan accident, when Song Sinian had held her back and Shi Qinghe had fallen down the mountain, broken her leg, and been declared permanently disabled.
The next day, after a month of insomnia, she went to Beijing Hospital for a consultation. She registered for the neurology department, but the doctor recommended that she go to the psychiatry department next door. The examination results were clear: she was ill, and it was quite serious, and she needed medication to relieve her illness.
She eats on time and in the right amount.
Go for regular checkups.
The problem of insomnia remains unresolved.
She could distract herself during the day with work and socializing, but once night fell, the long, drawn-out nights became a torment. She'd constantly be consuming news to get through the early hours, then force herself to sleep with her eyes closed, using the soothing promise of "sunlight in a few hours," night after night.
Time passed exceptionally quickly tonight.
In the blink of an eye.
Flowing silently.
Before she could even begin to feel the pressure, it was already past midnight. Shi Yin gathered her thoughts, a daze for several seconds before she reacted. She glanced at the actual time on her phone screen again, and her cold eyes fluttered slightly.
The attending physician had told her.
Her illness can be cured.
It's just more difficult.
When her time returns to normal, she no longer feels the nights are long, and can sleep peacefully, she will have hope of recovery. Nothing major has happened recently, except for falling from a high place into the sea during the day.
Shi Yin opened the browser.
Search: "Can falling from a height treat mental illness?"
There are many replies below.
Some say yes, some say no.
One of them caught Shi Yin's attention.
She clicked on it and saw that "stimulating" activities could help relieve stress and, to a certain extent, treat depression. For example, roller coasters and pendulums at amusement parks, or skiing and skydiving for outdoor adventures.
This answer is too long.
Shi Yin only considered the middle method, recording it verbatim in her memo. As she finished typing the project names listed in the article, the alarm on the IV line began beeping. Shi Yin immediately put down her phone, stood up, and went outside to call the nurse on duty to replace the vial.
The woman walked away.
The phone left on the chair was still on.
Hundreds of comments at the end of the article drifted across the center of the screen in the form of barrages. One of them advised: "Don't believe what this poster wrote. These stimulating programs can't treat mental illness at all. Look at the poster's subsequent records. He tried everything he mentioned, but he still committed suicide by jumping off a building! For depression, please seek medical treatment and take medication immediately! Or, like me, who came from a troubled family, find a partner who is like the little sun. The environment can improve the condition, and a good lover will benefit you for a lifetime. I wish you all a speedy recovery."
…
The next day.
The housekeeper brought breakfast.
Han Zhan had a scrape on the back of his left hand, which was covered with medicine and bandaged with white gauze, making it difficult for him to move. Shi Yin accompanied him for dinner, helping him with soup, picking up dishes, and passing cutlery.
The two sat facing each other.
There is a square table in the middle that is neither wide nor narrow.
Seeing that she had picked up a mouthful of noodles three times but still didn't put it into her mouth, Han Zhan placed the oatmeal porridge that he had blown on the side of his hand to cool it down a little in front of her. Shi Yin paused for a moment, looked up at him, and heard his soft voice: "Wife, the noodles are hot, drink the porridge first."
Shi Yin pursed her lips, "Thank you."
She picked up the spoon, scooped a few times, and drank a small sip.
They had gotten married at the beginning of last month. Han Zhan returned to Beishan Villa not often, but not infrequently. He often dined with her. He'd noticed she wasn't eating much, and after dinner, he'd asked the housekeeper. Uncle Han said, "Madam said the food tasted good, but she's afraid of the cold. Winter has made her appetite weak, so she hasn't eaten much."
Out of husband's responsibility.
He asked someone to contact the servants at the Shi residence to inquire about her preferences. He never expected that among so many people in the Shi family, no one knew what she liked or disliked. This was clearly her home, but there was no trace of her life there. She was like a transparent person, forgotten by everyone.
then.
He instructed the people at Beishan Villa to keep an eye on her every move.
If she ate two extra cherries from a fruit plate, the next time she was served, the cherries would be larger. If she dropped her chopsticks once more from a dish on the table, the chef at the villa would learn from her mistake and make the same decision.
The days go by.
I also got to know some of her preferences.
She likes light porridge in the morning, preferring oatmeal and soft-cooked white fungus soup. For dinner, she likes scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and she will eat more if the soup is poured over rice.
Thinking of this, Han Zhan glanced at the butler next to him.
Uncle Han nodded.
Left the ward.
Shi Yin drank her porridge seriously. Ten minutes later, she heard the door of the ward open again. She thought it was the doctor who came to check on her. Just as she was about to stand up and tell him about Han Zhan's physical condition, she saw the figure of the housekeeper and her lips closed again.
The housekeeper was carrying an insulated box.
Han Zhan took the box.
In the brief moment Shi Yin regained consciousness, Han Zhan had already poured the fragrant, hot tomato and egg soup from the box into her bowl of noodles. He looked up at her and said with a smile, "Wife, try the noodles and see if they're still hot."
Shi Yin didn't say anything.
He glanced at the handmade noodles in the bowl, then glanced at Han Zhan in front of him.
She picked up her chopsticks, picked up a few noodles from the thick tomato broth, and lowered her head to eat two mouthfuls. It was sour and sweet, just the way she liked it. Shi Yin was actually full, but the housekeeper was kind enough to go downstairs and buy her favorite dishes. She pinched her chopsticks and ate half a bowl even though she had no appetite.
Another ten minutes passed.
Looking at the remaining noodles in the bowl, Shi Yin felt a little guilty.
In the past, no one paid any attention to her at the Shi residence, let alone her preferences. When she was sick and couldn't eat, the leftovers were just there. After moving into Beishan Villa, the housekeeper treated her very well. The fruit bowl was always filled with cherries, and of the five dishes on the table, three were always her favorites or had similar tastes.
Maybe I'm used to being indifferent and ignored.
If someone suddenly treats her well, she will be touched, but also feel guilty for not finishing her meal.
Shi Yin's slender fingers held the chopsticks for a while. Just as she was thinking of making an excuse that she had eaten too much last night and was a little hungry, Han Zhan's voice suddenly rang out: "That's amazing, wife."
Shi Yin blinked.
Han Zhan stared at her pretty face, put half a cup of warm milk in her palm, and coaxed her, "You're drinking porridge and eating noodles. It's been a long time since I saw a girl who eats so seriously."
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