Meng Qingluan walked to the door, seemingly ignoring what she had heard, and placed her hand on the door.
When the boy on the bed saw that she still ignored him, he became so anxious that his crying changed tone.
"Sister, please don't go!"
"..."
Meng Qingluan paused her hand on the door, but without turning around, she pulled hard and opened the door.
"thump--"
Startled by the sound of something falling behind her, Meng Qingluan turned around and saw Little Radish Head running towards her.
Ignoring the pain of falling to the ground, Little Carrot Head dragged his weak steps over and hugged her waist without saying a word.
He buried his face in Meng Qingluan's arms, his back trembling as he cried.
"Sister, I was wrong... I shouldn't have talked nonsense. Please don't go!"
"..."
Meng Qingluan was at a loss for what to do. She raised her hand to touch his back but then stopped.
Should we offer fleeting warmth?
She was struggling internally.
She turned away not only because she was touched and angry at being met with indifference, but also because she realized that the little boy seemed to be lacking in love, and that even a short time with her could make him dependent on her.
He felt like a passerby in the dream, and the few days he was away felt like months or even years to him.
this…
Seeing that she didn't speak or comfort him, Little Carrot Head bit his lower lip tightly, holding back his sobs.
He can't cry, he can't be so weak.
His sister must be fed up with his weak and pathetic appearance. Please, hold back, don't shed any more tears.
He clenched his fist, his neatly trimmed nails digging into the flesh of his palm, the force causing the wound on his wrist to reopen.
After a long while, he raised his head, tears still welling in his eyes, and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Sister, I'm not crying anymore. Can you stay with me a little longer?"
"I was just confused. I was so happy to see you. Please forgive me."
“I won’t be immature anymore. I shouldn’t make you stay with me all the time. Just stay with me for a little while. Even if you only say one word to me, I will learn to be strong.”
Meng Qingluan wavered; all her defenses crumbled at that moment. She bent down slightly and effortlessly lifted him up with both hands.
He looks so much like the original owner of this body.
Meng Qingluan felt bewildered. Did Little Radish Head's parents really love him?
If he loves him, why would he be so humble because of a lack of love? If he were sensible, he shouldn't be saying this at such a carefree age.
The little boy was not very young, but he was very thin and light, and she could easily pick him up.
His bones were even a little hard to the touch, like a rag doll that could be manipulated at will.
Meng Qingluan held him in her arms.
Little Radish Head wanted to hug her neck, but after a moment's hesitation, he timidly shrank back.
He stiffened his body, not daring to touch her even an inch more.
Meng Qingluan put him back on the bed, pulled the blanket over him, and suddenly stopped, staring intently at his wrist.
Noticing Meng Qingluan's gaze, Little Radish Head instinctively tried to hide his wrist.
"Don't move!"
Meng Qingluan stopped him from doing that.
Little Radish Head immediately dared not move, his arm retracted halfway, and he remained frozen in place, maintaining the posture.
Meng Qingluan gently grabbed his arm and saw that the wound on his wrist had indeed reopened, and blood was seeping through the white cloth, flowing down his wrist onto the bed.
She turned her head and saw that there were blood droplets all along the way.
Meng Qingluan dared not delay; there were still the remaining white cloth and hemostatic powder left over from bandaging him on the bedside table.
Meng Qingluan carefully lifted the blood-soaked cloth, threw it aside, opened the hemostatic powder, and reminded him.
Meng Qingluan frowned when she saw the wound on his wrist. She had expected the wound to be deep, but she never imagined he would be so cruel to himself.
The scar on my wrist was very deep; it almost touched the carotid artery by a tiny bit.
Even if the Heavenly King himself came, let alone her, the medical level of ancient times would be powerless to save him.
"It hurts a little, just bear with it."
"Um."
Little Radish looked at her nervously, seeing that she didn't blame him but instead wanted to apply medicine to him.
Tears welled up in her eyes again, almost bursting forth uncontrollably. She bit her tongue to suppress the urge to cry and nodded heavily.
Meng Qingluan concentrated intently, pouring out the medicine little by little, the powder landing on the wound.
The wound hurt terribly, and Little Radish Head's hands trembled uncontrollably as he tried his best to endure it.
He bit his lower lip, but fearing that Meng Qingluan would see his weakness, he let go, enduring the excruciating pain.
Meng Qingluan moved as gently and quickly as possible, and after wrapping the cloth properly, she let go, her back already covered in a layer of sweat.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to ask.
Would you like some water?
Little Carrot Head was very cautious about every question she asked, observing her expression and nodding gently.
Meng Qingluan got out of bed, poured two glasses of water, gulped down one herself, and then fed it to him.
"I can do it myself, thank you, sister."
Meng Qingluan dodged his hand that was trying to take the water glass, and glanced sideways at his other hand, which was also weak from pain.
Are you sure?
"...Thank you for your trouble, sister."
He answered uneasily, but Meng Qingluan's sharp gaze seemed to see through everything, leaving him nowhere to hide, and all his lies seemed pale and powerless.
He really didn't have the strength.
Not only does my injured hand hurt, but my other hand also hurts.
He could have cut deeper; if he had cut deeper, he wouldn't have felt any pain anymore.
But he still held onto a sliver of hope.
What if, what if my sister suddenly shows up? I'll definitely regret it.
So he slowed his pace, and she appeared. He survived, but the pain engulfed him, plunging him into a sea of agony, making it hard to breathe.
After feeding him water, Meng Qingluan began rummaging through drawers and cabinets.
He just sat on the bed, neither asking nor stopping her, his gaze following her movements, fixed on her body.
If it weren't for the necessity of his physical functions, he wouldn't even blink.
Meng Qingluan finally stopped what she was doing, holding the same package of oil paper from last time. She opened it, and sure enough, the amount of candied fruit inside had only increased, now piled up into a small mountain, almost bursting out of the oil paper.
Meng Qingluan carried the candied fruit to the bedside, took one out, and fed it to him.
The little radish head was still bewildered, his lips closed.
Meng Qingluan said, "Open your mouth."
He instinctively obeyed her command and opened his mouth. The sweet taste instantly filled his mouth, and he chewed.
The candied fruit was sweet, which diluted the bitterness remaining in the pills.
He thought.
Meng Qingluan also put one in her mouth, her delicate eyebrows furrowing slightly.
It's very sweet, almost cloying, and because it's been sitting out for too long, the sweetness of the candied fruit is astonishing.
Seeing that he had finished eating, Meng Qingluan raised the candied fruit in her hand and asked, "Would you like some more?"
"No, I won't eat it." He shook his head and whispered, "This is for my sister, you eat it."
Meng Qingluan placed the candied fruit on the bedside table, saying, "You are a patient now, you should keep these for yourself."
"..."
Little Radish Head lowered his eyes, not daring to respond casually.
He was afraid that if he accepted, Meng Qingluan would stop eating, but he was also afraid that refusing would upset her.
Keeping quiet might help.
He doesn't often answer his parents' questions, and they treat him better.
Seeing that he had become even more silent, Meng Qingluan felt a little uneasy. She sat down on the edge of the bed and took the initiative to ask him.
Are you still taking medication?
He gave a soft "hmm," then quickly added.
"The medicine doesn't taste bitter to me anymore, it's just right."
He has grown up; he has learned to be strong.
She'll probably praise herself...
Meng Qingluan then asked, "What about acupuncture? Is it still being used?"
When acupuncture was mentioned, his expression became noticeably unpleasant, vaguely revealing fear.
He nodded obediently.
Meng Qingluan's expression grew even more serious.
How could he have been taking medicine for so long and still not recovered? And with such a big incident happening in the yard, she didn't even see his parents look at him once.
What kind of parents are they?
Meng Qingluan not only connected the two matters, but also lowered her voice further.
"You...why would you suddenly try to take your own life? Don't you know it's very dangerous?"
He became even more frightened, tears welling up in his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall, suppressing his sobs and trying his best to sound normal.
"I know. I...I, I wanted to get better quickly, that's why I did this, not for any other reason."
Meng Qingluan could tell that he hadn't finished speaking, so she patiently guided him.
"Now even I don't want to tell the truth? Be good, tell me, I won't blame you. Tell me, and I'll help you figure something out, okay? You're still young, you don't need to grit your teeth and bear these things by yourself."
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