SWTHTC - 38

Chapter 38: “…Thank You”

At 2:30 in the morning, Yu Qing was transferred to the Third Central Hospital of A City.

This was the best tertiary hospital in A City, and beds were always in high demand. Fortunately, Hou Feng, the director of the orthopedics department, had gone through great lengths to secure a bed for Yu Qing.

He wasn’t on duty that night, so he wasn’t at the hospital, which made Zhou Leqi feel somewhat relieved. For some reason, she felt apprehensive about facing Hou Zihao’s family.

She stayed by Yu Qing’s bedside all night, refusing to close her eyes even as it approached three in the morning. Eventually, Hou Zihao persuaded her to leave the room for a little while to eat something.

The hospital was eerily quiet at this hour, the corridor dimly lit. Together, they walked out of the ward into the darkness, finding a bench in the small waiting area on their floor. Hou Zihao went to buy two bowls of instant noodles, returning after adding hot water.

“Here,” he said gently, handing her the familiar packaging. “Eat something.”

In the dark, Zhou Leqi could barely make out Hou Zihao’s face, but his voice was soft and comforting, bringing her a sense of solace.

She took the bowl from him, feeling its warmth in her hands—a warmth that seemed to resist the chill of the autumn night.

She murmured softly, “...Thank you.”

Thank you for saving my mom.

Thank you for staying with me.

Thank you so much.

She didn’t know what else to say. Words felt shallow in the face of everything that had happened. She didn’t know how to repay him or express gratitude to his parents for their generous help.

But he didn’t need her thanks. All he wanted now was for her to eat something.

He set his own bowl down, handed her a plastic fork, and pulled a sausage from the pocket of his school uniform jacket, saying, “Forget the thanks—just eat the meat.”

His tenderness wrapped around her like a quietly burning blue flame, momentarily distracting her. After a while, she came back to herself.

She responded weakly, though she had no appetite. Knowing that if she didn’t eat, he wouldn’t either, she forced herself to start eating. The steam rising from the noodles warmed her, but the food itself held no appeal. Her body seemed to reject the act of eating.

So she pretended. She mimicked the motions of twirling the noodles onto her fork and then returned them untouched to the bowl, repeating the process over and over.

This charade lasted until he finished his meal.

When he asked, “Are you done?” she replied, “Yes,” but when he took her bowl to throw it away, he found it still heavy.

She hadn’t touched a single bite, not even the sausage, which she’d tucked into her pocket.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

She knew he’d noticed and felt awkward and guilty. After a brief silence, she tried to explain.

“I’m sorry,” her voice was barely audible. “…But I really can’t eat right now.”

He didn’t respond. A short while later, she heard him sigh, and his footsteps gradually faded away. Logically, she knew he’d only gone to throw out the trash, but emotionally, she felt a wave of loneliness. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would return.

Would he leave her chaotic, suffocating life just like that?

Suddenly, she began to feel cold—her whole body chilled, especially her hands, as if they were frozen. Only her tears remained warm, falling drop by drop onto her hand, scorching her skin.

But then he returned.

He came back to her, sitting beside her in the dark, pulling her gently into his arms. She felt the warmth of his embrace and heard his faint sigh. “I told you not to cry earlier, but now that I leave for a moment, you start crying. Can’t you listen to me just once?”

He was referring to their time at the Development Zone Hospital.

She hadn’t cried then because she couldn’t. Perhaps people can’t cry when emotions run too high, or maybe his presence had given her the strength to hold on a little longer.

But now, she couldn’t hold on anymore. The floodgates had opened, and the tears kept flowing.

Her crying was silent, like that of a mute child, yet her tears soaked through his shirt, searing his chest with their heat. His heart ached deeply. The girl was so frail, clutching tightly around his waist. This was something he had longed for, yet now that it was happening, he felt no joy.

He didn’t want her to be so sad.

He didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. It was an impossible question, one his usual cleverness couldn’t solve. In the end, all he could offer was a wordless embrace.

The world felt vast and empty.

Life was truly terrible.

And he didn’t know what their future held.

But at least, in this moment… he knew he wanted to stay by her side.

________________________________________

They both skipped school the next day.

After staying up all night, Zhou Leqi urged Hou Zihao to go home and rest, assuring him she could handle things alone at the hospital. But he refused, instead urging her to get some sleep on the fold-out bed provided for caregivers, promising to keep watch over Yu Qing. Zhou Leqi resisted, continuing to sit by Yu Qing’s bedside, refusing to leave even for a moment.

This stalemate persisted until Hou Feng arrived.

As the director of the orthopedics department, Hou Feng was well-known by the doctors and nurses in the hospital. When he entered the ward, several greeted him warmly, and he responded kindly to each.

Zhou Leqi had been sitting with her back to the door and hadn’t noticed Hou Feng’s arrival. It was only when she saw Hou Zihao stand up that she realized someone had entered and quickly followed suit.

She wanted to thank Hou Feng, but exhaustion and hunger left her lightheaded. As soon as she stood, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed if not for Hou Zihao catching her in time.

Hou Feng frowned at her condition but didn’t immediately urge her to rest. Instead, he began updating her on Yu Qing’s status: “I spoke with the attending doctor. Your mother’s condition has improved, and the dialysis is working well. She’s expected to regain consciousness this afternoon. There’s no need to worry too much.”

Zhou Leqi was overwhelmed with gratitude, bowing repeatedly and thanking him profusely. Hou Feng smiled gently and said, “You’re welcome, child. But Uncle hopes you’ll get some rest. Your health matters too.”

It was hard to refuse the advice of an elder, so Zhou Leqi nodded hesitantly. At that moment, Hou Feng noticed his son gesturing behind her, mimicking the action of eating rice. Sighing inwardly, he added, “Eat something before you sleep, or you might get hypoglycemic.”

Zhou Leqi nodded again.

With that, Hou Zihao took his father’s cafeteria card and led Zhou Leqi to the hospital staff canteen for breakfast.

The morning sunlight was bright, and the early autumn sky was clear and vast. The canteen bustled with doctors and nurses, some of whom recognized Hou Zihao as Director Hou’s son and greeted him warmly. He returned their greetings politely.

He nearly maxed out his father’s card, grabbing an assortment of items: wontons, fried dough sticks, small buns, tofu pudding, soy milk, tea eggs, flower rolls… practically every breakfast item imaginable.

Zhou Leqi intervened, convincing him to put a few things back. They finally found seats, but the table was still piled high with food. Zhou Leqi frowned, scolding him, “Why did you take so much? We can’t possibly eat all this… And what if your dad finds out?”

Without looking up, Hou Zihao was busy unwrapping chopsticks for her. Casually, he replied, “The hospital deposits a monthly food allowance into this card as a subsidy. The money can’t be withdrawn—it stays in the card forever. Your Uncle Hou is probably losing sleep over how to use it up. If you can help him finish it, he’ll thank you.”

Zhou Leqi: “….”

She was speechless for a moment, but Hou Zihao handed her the chopsticks. Silently accepting them, she heard him ask, “Wontons or tofu pudding?”

Looking at the sizes of the bowls, she answered, “Tofu pudding.”

He smiled slightly, saying, “Alright,” and placed the smaller bowl in front of her.

Such meticulous care.

Zhou Leqi was deeply moved. Everything that had happened since yesterday had deepened her feelings for the person before her. Simply seeing him filled her with warmth.

But she wasn’t good at expressing emotions and often said the opposite of what she meant. For instance, she now urged him to leave.

“After breakfast, you should go,” she said, looking at him. “I can manage alone. Besides, you didn’t go home last night. Will your parents allow it?”

Her reasoning was sound.

Yesterday, he’d been lucky—Su Ruini was on a business trip, and Hou Feng had covered for him. Su Ruini still didn’t know her son had spent the night away. But today, she was returning, so Hou Zihao had to go home.

After thinking for a moment, he said, “Alright. I’ll go back during the day and come back tonight to relieve you.”

Zhou Leqi was startled. “You’re coming back?”

“What else?” he countered. “How can you handle this alone?”

Before she could persuade him, he cut her off sternly. “And whether I leave depends on your behavior.”

Zhou Leqi: ?

“I’ll leave only after you’ve fallen asleep,” he said, peeling an egg for her. “If you don’t sleep, I’ll stay here indefinitely.”

Zhou Leqi: “….”

His words made her both exasperated and amused. But more than anything, she was touched. Her heart raced, and her affection for him grew stronger.

Yet she muttered, “You’re so annoying.”

He chuckled, not offended in the slightest. Perhaps he understood her well enough to see past her tough exterior to the tender heart within.

“I am annoying,” he said, wiping his hands with a napkin, completely unbothered. “So just do as I say.”

Zhou Leqi snorted, pursing her lips. Then she picked up the tea egg he’d peeled for her and took a small bite.

…Delicious.