Qinghuan's ears turned red: "What time is it, you are still joking with me." She turned to look at Nanyang's horrific hands, "Your hands are already like this, how do you still take a shower?"
"It's on the back of my hand, I just need to be careful." Nanyang walked into the bathroom and turned on the light.
Qinghuan frowned: "The back of your hand? You broke the cup, how could you hurt the back of your hand?"
Nanyang raised his hand to take the shower gel.
"I… "
She froze, her fingertips resting on the curved gold mark of the shower gel bottle, just looking at the back, she could feel the tension in her hair.
Qing Huan felt her abnormality and frowned.
She didn't ask any further, just walked over and hugged Nanyang's waist from behind, burying her face in her white shirt.
"It doesn't matter, you don't have to say it if you don't want to. Although I really want to know, if you don't want to tell me, I can pretend that I don't want to know."
What a humble sentence to the dust.
The more you love, the more humble you become. This humbleness has nothing to do with whether the other party loves you as much. This is a sweet compromise.
"Qing Huan," Nan Yang's fingers tremblingly touched her hand in front of his belly, "I won't tell you the truth, it's not that I let you down. I won't tell you, it's for your own good."
"I understand," Qing Huan smiled softly, "I understand that whatever you do is for my own good. I understand it all."
Nanyang's eyes froze when he heard her trusting him without bottom line.
"I'm just afraid that if you wash it yourself, you will wet the wound. I'm afraid that the wound will fester tomorrow and you will be in great pain, so I want to help you." Qing Huan tightened her arms, her face slightly to one side, and Nanyang's shoulder rested. Looking at the cold face, "Can I help you take a bath?"
Nanyang was silent for a long time, until Qing Huan thought she was using silence to express her refusal. Qing Huan pursed her lips and slowly let go of her waist. When her hand had dropped to the side of her leg, she suddenly heard the woman in front say softly:
"Help me unbutton."
The simple five words were uttered by Nanyang in a dull voice, but they were like a boulder smashing into the vast sea of heart, causing thousands of ripples in an instant.
Qing Huan took a deep breath, held Nan Yang's shoulder, closed her eyes hard, and stabilized her heartbeat. Then she guided her to turn around slowly, her eyes lowered, not daring to raise her eyes, she put her fingers on the first button of the white shirt, and slowly pushed it out of the button seam.
It wasn't the first time she saw Nanyang's body, but she couldn't restrain her heart throbbing when she unbuttoned it. Just like the little girl who opened the express, she clearly knew what was in the small box, but she still couldn't suppress the anxiety and expectation when she opened the box.
The shirt was unbuttoned as much as possible, and the woman on the opposite side sunk her shoulders and took off the shirt.
Well-proportioned proportions, thin back, thin underwear, hideous scars.
There is one on the left chest and the heart, five long and short on the abdomen, two slender ones on the waist, and one on the splash-shaped scar on the wrist. This beautiful body seemed to be torn apart alive, and then scrambled back together. The cracks were so obvious and terrifying that just by looking at it shallowly, one could imagine its blood-soaked appearance.
When Qing Huan saw these scars for the first time, she was more curious than distressed, perhaps because the relationship between her and Nanyang was not too deep at that time, and she didn't know what it was like to love someone. But now, every time she sees these scars, she is like sinking into an ice cellar, her whole body hurts so much that she can't breathe.
How can she not feel distressed when her beloved thing is broken like this
Her fingertips carefully stroked the long and wide scars on her abdomen. Her nose was sore and painful, and tears streamed down the corners of her eyes, "... Who is it? Who is so fierce to make you look like this?"
Nanyang curled the corner of his lips, raised his hand, and stroked Qinghuan's hair, "It's okay, not fierce."
"Since I was a child, no matter how others bullied me, I never hated anyone." Qing Huan gritted her teeth and held back her tears, "This is the first time I hate someone so much, you are so nice, that person How can I bear to treat you…”
"Qing Huan," Nan Yang interrupted her warmly, "I don't hate her, so don't hate her either."
Qinghuan looked into Nanyang's eyes with tears in her eyes.
Nanyang lowered his eyes and said in a softer voice, "You remember my words, and you must always remember them. I don't hate her, I never hate her."
Suddenly my heart was empty.
An inexplicable feeling came to her heart, and it was fleeting. Before she could capture the taste, the strangeness quickly slipped away. She frowned, blinked several times, and a moment of confusion passed through her eyes.
There seemed to be a voice in her heart that said to her deeply:
I do not hate you.
Nanyang looked at Qing Huan suddenly in a trance, tilted his head, and reminded her aloud, "Don't you continue to take it off?"
Qing Huan quickly pulled her thoughts back, shook her head vigorously, and shook off the dizziness in her mind. She helped Nan Yang to take off the rest of the clothes on her body without any distractions. Under the bright light of the bathroom, she only looked at the terrifying scars on her body, temporarily forgetting the ambiguous aspect of this body to her. absorb.
After filling the bathtub with water, Nan Yang sat in it, his hands wrapped in gauze hanging out, and his chin resting on his forearms. Qing Huan helped her to wash her body carefully. When the body was almost washed, she took a small cup and scooped up warm water and poured it on her long black hair, rubbing it carefully, section by section.
"Light joy."
Nanyang suddenly called her.
Qing Huan said "Huh?" and turned her head to look at her face.
Nan Yang suppressed forbearance in his eyes, and after a long while, he cautiously asked, "Would you be surprised if I suddenly vomited blood?"
Qing Huan was stunned, and looked at Nan Yang for unknown reasons, "Spit, vomit blood?"
"Yeah." Nan Yang nodded, his voice very deep, "I'm sorry, I want to endure it, but I..."
Although Qing Huan was full of doubts, she subconsciously replied, "It's not surprising when Nan Yang said this."
"That's good," Nanyang pursed his lips and raised his eyes to look at Qinghuan, "Help me get the trash can over there."
Qing Huan immediately stretched out her hand, reached the trash can not far away, and placed it beside Nan Yang.
Nanyang bowed his head, frowned, and suddenly coughed out a mouthful of blood. The blood dripped down her chin, smeared with the sticky saliva in her mouth, and hung precariously on her lips. At the end of the long thread that was pulled out, the plump blood droplets sank rhythmically. It was so heavy that it broke the last trace of connection and landed on the plastic bag of the trash can with a clatter.
Qing Huan hurriedly took out some toilet paper and carefully wiped Nan Yang's lips, hesitating to speak, she wanted to ask something but didn't dare.
Nanyang vomited out the accumulated blood, and the pain that had lasted for several hours finally eased a little. She could see Qing Huan's doubts, and only said: "It's nothing major, don't worry."
Qing Huan hesitated for a long time, then tentatively asked, "Stomach problem?"
"No," Nanyang thought for a while, then picked a lie casually, "It's just bleeding from the throat, just take some anti-inflammatories."
Qing Huan listened and breathed a sigh of relief, "Fortunately, it's not a serious illness."
"It's almost there, help me dry."
After Nanyang finished speaking, he stood up on the edge of the bathtub, bringing a splash of water, and the thin warm water dripped down her skin. Qing Huan took a bath towel to help her wipe, and after wiping, she put on a bathrobe for her.
In the bathroom, she helped Nanyang blow her hair for a while, but Nanyang's hair was long and thick, and it was still a little damp after blowing. So she pulled Nanyang to sit on the edge of the bed for a while, waiting for her hair to dry by itself.
While waiting, Qing Huan dragged over the big bag of toys he bought during the day, and took them out one by one and handed them to Nanyang.
"What is this?" Nanyang asked.
"The souvenirs I bought from the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, I don't know which one you like, so I just bought them all."
"This is a rattle." Qing Huan handed a red rattle painted with a New Year's picture doll and stuffed it into Nanyang's hand.
Nan Yang took it over, stared at the rattle for a while, and rubbed his fingertips slightly, and the rattle rang loudly.
The corners of her lips twitched, revealing a faint smile.
"And this, little bird whistle."
Nanyang changed his hand to hold the rattle, took the bird-shaped water whistle, and looked at it in his hand. Qing Huan motioned for her to blow the bird's tail, she licked her upper lip, held the long bird's tail, her cheeks bulged, and she blew a gentle bird song.
"This may not be very easy to play," Qing Huan took out a Tao Xun, "You must be someone who knows music theory to play it."
Nanyang nodded, "Indeed."
Qing Huan put Tao Xun aside, "I knew earlier if I didn't buy this, we are all people who don't understand music theory."
"Xun, I really can't," Nan Yang paused, "but I can play the piano."
"You know how to play the piano?" Qing Huan looked at her in surprise. They had known each other for so long, but she had never heard Nanyang say this, "Piano?"
"No, it's a guqin." Nanyang raised his chin slightly, as if recalling, "But I haven't played it for many years. I remember that a long time ago, I played a qin called Jiuxiao Huanpei."
"Jiuxiao Huanpei?" Qing Huan's eyes widened in surprise, "Isn't that a guqin from the Tang Dynasty, which is now in the collection of the Palace Museum. You Mei are so powerful, how can you borrow things from the Palace Museum?"
"It turned out to be in the Forbidden City now." Nanyang was noncommittal, only smiled.
"But, it's just your hand..." Qing Huan glanced at her right hand, "Are you still learning to play the guqin?"
Nanyang did not speak.
Perhaps in modern times, learning the guqin is a hobby, but in ancient times, qin, chess, calligraphy and painting were compulsory courses for girls from birth. She never regarded her ability to play the guqin as a specialty, because playing the guqin was something that ancient women could do, just as common as modern children learn English lessons.
The fingertips turned unconsciously, and the rattle made a crisp thumping sound again.
Qing Huan was silent for a while, and then said in a low voice, "Suddenly I feel... you seem to have a lot of things that I don't know."
I don't know who the girl she used to be, the source of her scars, or how well she can play the guqin.
"One day, you will know it all."
Nan Yang said so.
Qing Huan's heart softened, and she smiled softly: "Well then, you must tell me all about it in the future."
"Qing Huan, there are some things I won't tell you, it's not that I don't want to, but I can't." Nan Yang sighed softly from his nose, "However, I can try to tell you some other things."
"...?" Qing Huan blinked.
"For example, I like this very much," Nanyang raised his hand and shook the rattle in his hand, "I also like other toys, grasshoppers, shadow puppets, I like them all. Thank you for giving I, because of these things, don't seem to have such a hard time tonight."
Qing Huan pursed her lips, looked at Nan Yang for a long time, and asked softly, "Are you suffering tonight?"
Nanyang endured the burning pain in his heart that lasted for several hours.
"Don't suffer."
She answered very lightly.
With you by my side, no matter how difficult the pain is, it is not called "torture".