Chapter 167; Even if it’s forever
Yueyao’s lashes fluttered as her cheek rested against his shoulder, her breathing uneven but no longer strained. The long silence between them felt heavier than words, pressing into the quiet hum of the machines that still lingered around them.
Fang Lin watched from the side, torn between relief and worry. Yueyao was awake, but the fragility of her voice, the way her body seemed to shrink back from the sterile world around her, unsettled her deeply.
"Uncle," Fang Lin’s voice broke the stillness, low and careful. "Shouldn’t we let the doctors take another look? Just to be sure...."
"No." Yueyao’s hoarse murmur cut across her, surprising them both. Her fingers tightened in Jin Shuren’s sleeve as if afraid he might let go. Her eyes, still clouded with weakness, glinted with an old fear. "No more doctors. No more tests. I don’t want them touching me. I don’t want to be here...."
Her words trembled, but the firmness in them was unmistakable.
Jin Shuren’s jaw flexed almost imperceptibly. He smoothed a hand along her back, steady, grounding. "Alright," he said, voice quiet but resolute. "No more doctors. Not unless you want them. I will take care of everything here. You don’t need to be afraid."
Her grip loosened slightly, the rigid tension in her frame ebbing as she sagged against him.
Fang Lin’s throat tightened at the sight. She bit her lip, unsure if stepping closer would soothe or unsettle her auntie/friend further. Instead, she turned away slightly, blinking back the sting in her eyes.
’She’s awake and that’s what matters. That’s enough. For now, that’s enough.’
The hours that followed blurred together in hushed movements. Jin Shuren arranged for Yueyao’s transfer back home, bypassing the protests of the medical staff with quiet authority.
By nightfall, she was settled once again in the familiar quiet of her bedroom, away from the antiseptic chill of the hospital.
As Jin Shuren put her to bed, she noticed the familiar, not-so-familiar portraits around the bedroom; she had even noticed others hanging around the sitting room walls.
"Woow! I never thought I took those pictures there, but they look beautiful!" These images were what Jin Shuren had snapped secretly, but they were really beautiful and from a good angle.
Yueyao’s lips curved faintly, the wonder in her voice carrying a fragile warmth that had been absent for so long.
She lifted a trembling hand, pointing toward the nearest portrait where her smile was caught mid-laugh, sunlight scattering across her hair.
"I... I don’t even remember smiling like that." Her eyes softened, glassy under the glow of the bedside lamp. "It feels like someone else... not me."
Jin Shuren paused, tucking the blanket securely around her. His gaze followed hers to the photograph, and something unspoken flickered in his eyes. "It is you," he said, his tone steady, firm yet low. "Those are not just pictures. They are yours, when you are happy and smiling, no matter what!" Yes, he had taken most of the pictures when she was in her happy era.
Her breath hitched faintly, a fragile thread of silence stretching between them. Slowly, her gaze returned to him, uncertainty warring with something more tender.
"Did you... Take all of them?" she asked, though she already suspected the answer.
"Yes," Jin Shuren replied simply. "Every single one. Look at how beautiful you were, and even now, you are so beautiful..."
For a moment, Yueyao didn’t know what to say. The realization that he had captured her so carefully, from angles she didn’t even know she had, left her both shy and strangely comforted. She lowered her gaze, whispering almost to herself, "I didn’t think you would be taking pictures of me so secretly! I thought I ain’t worth that!"
At that, Jin Shuren’s hand halted on the blanket. He leaned forward slightly, his shadow falling over her, his voice quiet but unyielding. "You are wrong about that!"
Yes, one man’s poison is another man’s meat... Her husband might not have cherished her, but he has always...
Her lashes slightly trembled. His words sank into her, warm but almost unbearable against the coldness she had long carried.
"Shuren..." Her voice was small, threaded with hesitation. "What if I fall unconscious again? What if... I don’t wake up next time?"
His eyes darkened, a storm of unspoken emotion flashing through them. Without a word, he reached for her hand, pressing it firmly against his chest where his heartbeat thudded steady and strong.
"Then I will wait again," he said, unwavering. "As long as it takes. Even if it’s forever."
Tears welled in her eyes at the quiet finality of his vow. She tried to speak, but the words broke, dissolving into a choked sound as her hand lingered over the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Jin Shuren said nothing more as he didn’t need to. Instead, he stayed by her side, holding her hand against him, a silent promise written not in grand gestures but in the constancy of his presence.
Outside the window, the night deepened. Within the quiet room, surrounded by portraits that captured fragments of her lost joy, Yueyao allowed herself, to close her eyes not in fear, but in the fragile safety of knowing she was seen.
The door suddenly creaked softly, and Fang Lin stepped in with careful steps, balancing a porcelain bowl of steaming porridge in her hands.
The gentle aroma of rice and broth floated into the quiet room, grounding the sterile weight of Yueyao’s recent days in the hospital.
She paused at the threshold, her gaze catching on the scene before her, Yueyao resting against the pillows, her frail form half-curled into Jin Shuren’s presence, his hand still wrapped firmly over hers.
Fang Lin didn’t say a word. She simply stood there, her heart swelling and twisting at once.
Jin Shuren looked up, his eyes acknowledging her silently before he rose. He crossed the room with measured calm, taking the bowl carefully from Fang Lin’s hands. She lingered in the doorway, hesitant, but his quiet glance made it clear: stay, but watch silently.